#especially the part at the end about X possibly handling it's women the best

[littlestarofthewest]

Title: You’re Mine | Word Count: 4466 | Pairing: Arthur Morgan x male reader

Tags: alcohol cw, work in progress | Rating: Explicit (18+)!!!

Summary: You’re hanging around the saloon, waiting for someone to finally pop your cherry, when you suddenly run into a lot more cowboy than you can handle.

Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11 - coming asap]

You crouch in the high grass, looking for signs of the dear you've been stalking. It's nowhere to be seen, but the grass behind you rustles, letting you know that something bigger and heavier is coming your way.

"Hey," a soft voice says behind you.

There must be a good reason why Charles is coming over to you, risking startling the animals you're trying to hunt.

"What is it?" you ask as you turn around.

"There's a wagon coming along the road. If they keep going, they'll end up right in camp."

You close your eyes, taking in the sounds all around you. A soft wind makes the leaves rustle and birds sing. Far away, you can even hear a nearby stream. And in between, tires hit little twigs on the ground as they rough up the already beaten path.

"What do we do?"

Charles is looking through the trees. "We have to stop them, make them go the other way."

"How?" you ask, your heart beating faster.

You can't imagine why the people on that wagon might turn around. Still, you can't let them get to the camp. After weeks with the Van der Linde Gang, you picked up on the most important rules. Not being detected is one of them. Even if it's just civilians, they might tell local police what they saw.

"Follow me," Charles says and gets to his feet, no longer hiding. "We'll make it look like it's too dangerous to be in these woods."

You follow Charles, trying your best to swallow a snarky comment. The most danger in these woods comes from a group of thieves and murderers, but you highly doubt that Charles wants to tell them that, especially since he's one of them.

Charles walks out right into the street, holding both his shoulders and rifle low. He's trying to look as unthreatening as possible. You step out next to him just as the wagon comes rattling along the street, clearing the trees.

The driver stops with a curse and Charles gives you a look before he hangs his rifle over his shoulder and lifts his hands.

"Excuse me," he says, his voice calm. "I suggest you don't come any closer. These woods aren't safe."

The man driving eyes him with suspicion. Next to him sits a woman and when the wagon holds, two younger women sit up to look forward and see what's the hold-up.

"Wie bitte?" the man says, a quiver in his voice. "Wieso halten Sie uns auf?"

Charles looks over at you. "Was that German?"

"Yes," you say. "You speak it?"

"Not enough for a conversation."

"I'll try," you say, taking a step forward and smiling at the driver. "You're German?"

"Yes," the man says, looking even more uncomfortable than before.

"Any English?"

The man shakes his head. "Not … not good."

You think about what Charles said about the dangerous forest, so you point to the trees. "Wald … gefährlich."

"Why?" the man says, and judging by his demeanor, you wonder how they even got this far. 

"Bären," you say, lifting your hands like claws and growling before you point at yourself and mimic to shoot. "Wir Jäger. Hunting them."

The man nods, not eager to meet any bears, but he still gestures to the treeline. "Wir suchen die nächste Stadt. City. Food."

"Oh, you're going the wrong way," you say and when that only gets you a puzzled look, you point behind the wagon. "Die Richtung. City. Not … Nicht hier. Da."

The man shares a look with his wife and they have a quick conversation you can't follow before the man nods at you again. "Back there?"

"Yes. Kreuzung," you say, spreading your arms apart to show the two possible ways. "You go left. Links. City. Links."

With a smile, the man nods even more. "Dann fahren wir da entlang. Vielen Dank. Thank you."

You only nod, the conversation already hard enough without empty phrases. When they turn around, both you and Charles wave at them and they take off along the road.

"You speak German?" Charles asks.

You shrug your shoulders. "My uncle knew a German hunter. I picked up a few basic words."

"You're full of surprises," Charles says with a smile and claps your shoulder. "Let's go. Any game is long gone by now anyway. At least we can tell Dutch that you kept us hidden."

------

Although you mentioned that Dutch doesn't have to know, Charles tells Hosea, so soon everybody knows. Dutch ends up thanking you while most of the gang fetch their food and you get a few appreciative words or nods. Only Sean acts completely unimpressed and brings forward the rumor that you've been born in another country, insisting on calling you German from now on.

You laugh with the others about it over your dinner until Charles sits down next to you. "I'd say they are ready. What do you think?"

He's holding a pair of crutches that the two of you made together for Arthur. They look great and are most definitely done. 

"What do we have here?" Hosea asks from the other side of the table.

Charles holds up the crutches for him to see. "We thought we should be prepared for when Arthur gets restless."

Hosea laughs. "I'm surprised you kept him in that bed for so long. He'll be happy about these. Have you checked on him today?"

"We were out the whole morning," you say, shoveling some stew into your mouth. Hosea's eyes are resting on you. You know you can't bullshit the man, though, so you swallow the mouthful as quickly as you can. "I'll do it now, give him the crutches. He should be on his feet in no time."

"That's good to hear."

Hosea smiles and so does Charles. They're happy to get Arthur back. You force a smile on your face while feeling the opposite. Of course, you want Arthur to get better and you know that your time is limited, but you never anticipated enjoying life with the gang so much.

Many times, you've been out hunting with Charles or fishing with Javier. When you find something more exotic to eat, Pearson lets you help prepare it. You love spending time with the girls and even Miss Grimshaw doesn't ride you as hard as some of the others since you try your best to help out wherever you can.

You remember a lot of evenings and nights at the fire, hearing stories from Hosea or Uncle, and how some of the gang members open up about their past. Most of them didn't just wake up one morning and decided to be bad and live as outlaws. At their core, they're good people. Once you have to go, you'll miss them.

Holding in a sigh, you put away your dish and take the crutches over to Arthur's tent. He's sitting up and reading, and the second you enter the tent, he looks up. After weeks of being tied to the bed, he must be dying to get out of here.

"Hey," you say, holding up the crutches. "I've got something for you. Charles made them."

Arthur's eyes grow wide. You can see the hope growing inside of him. "Does that mean-?"

"You still have to take it slow," you say, cutting him off, "but yes, you can get up. If you overdo it, you risk the leg."

"I won't!"

Arthur looks at you like a child that promises to be good and puts the book away. You hold up the crutches while he turns on the cot to reach for them. With a grunt, he tries to push himself up but immediately falls back down. 

"Goddammit!"

"I can get Charles," you say, "he can help you."

"You can do it," Arthur says. His voice sounds sure but he doesn't look at you.

"Oh, yeah. Sure," you say, your heart racing.

Although you constantly checked on Arthur's wound, the two of you barely spoke and you tried your best to touch Arthur as little as possible. The idea of helping him up makes you nervous.

Still, you bend down to let Arthur rest his arm on your shoulder and help him to stand up. You hold on to him as he wavers a little bit, and Arthur groans, leaning heavily on the crutches.

"It will still take a while until you'll get your strength back," you say and Arthur nods.

While you still hold your arms out to catch him if need be, Arthur takes his first careful steps. He's doing pretty well and while you're relieved that you contributed a lot to his health, your heart grows heavy. You don't have much time left.

"Alright, I'll just-" you say, ready to run away, but Arthur gives you a hopeful look.

"Can you come along? I want to make sure I can handle these."

He doesn't say it outright, but you know what he means. Arthur hates to be helpless and he has more pride than is good for him. He'd never recover if he fell in front of everybody.

"Sure," you say, trying to sound lighthearted. "We can get you some food."

As soon as you leave the tent, people are coming your way, congratulating Arthur on being back on his feet. He uses the group around him as an excuse to move as slowly as possible. 

It all looks good until there's a tiny bump on the ground. Before Arthur can lose his footing, you grab him by the arms and steady him, but for everybody looking you make it seem as if you're holding Arthur to push past him and leave the group.

You head over to the fire to fetch dinner for Arthur and the others get back to work. Only Charles stays behind to see the crutches in action. He walks with Arthur to the nearby table to sit down. "Seems like you're doing alright with them," he says.

"Yeah, thank you for making them," Arthur says. "I'm glad to be out of that bloody tent."

You put the plate in front of Arthur and Charles points at you. "Thank your friend here. He had the idea and gave me the measurements. I couldn't have done it without him."

Charles claps Arthur's shoulder and walks away. You mean to go as well, but Arthur's eyes rest on you in a way they haven't in a while and you can't help but bathe in the glory of it.

"Guess I have to thank you then," Arthur says, and for once, his voice is devoid of anger and accusation. "I was going crazy in there."

"I know," you say without meaning to and the words burn a hole in your chest. Of course, you know, because you know Arthur. In the short time you had together, you learned so much about him. He's an old friend you grew apart from, and it hurts.

Arthur moves the food around on his plate, clearing his throat. "Hosea will be pleased."

"Yeah, I guess," you say with a dry throat. "Not much longer now."

"Look," Arthur says, pushing the plate away and focusing on you. "I never…"

"Look who it is," John interrupts him. "Guess the good times are over."

You didn't hear him coming, but you're almost glad he stopped Arthur. Whatever he was about to say would have probably hurt you even more.

Arthur grunts. "Shut up, Marston."

"Keep that attitude for when you need it," John says, way more gleeful than you have seen him in a while. "We'll have a nice game of poker going on later. You in?"

His eyes wander from Arthur to you and back. Arthur's jaw is working as if he's biting back an answer, then he nods. "Sure, why not."

"Somebody has to take your money," you say, clapping John's shoulder. "So I guess, I'm in."

John beams. "I'll have to find Javier. He still owes me from last time."

He walks away and you feel Arthur's eyes resting on you again. As much as you enjoyed it moments ago, it begins to annoy you, knowing that it doesn't mean the same thing anymore.

"What?" you ask, the word sounding harsher than you intended.

"You seem to get along with everybody," Arthur simply states, taking the wind out of your sails. You can't fight with him when he's not being mean.

"Yeah, well, I had a lot of time to get to know everybody. They're good people."

"Except Micah."

Arthur grimaces and spits out the name, making you wonder once again why Arthur hates Micah so much.

"He has his merits," you say, although you don't particularly like Micah yourself.

Unlike with others, he's not outright unfriendly to you, more the opposite, but there's still something about him that makes you uneasy. Micah is a sweet talker if he wants to be, especially with Dutch. It doesn't take him much effort to find a person's buttons and he's all too willing to push them. Still, he's a little bit too slippery for your taste. He might be a great outlaw, but you don't trust him an inch.

"Should have shot him on sight," Arthur grunts. 

"Not too late to make another decision," you say. You're talking about Micah and Arthur shooting him, but Arthur looks grim. 

Your words must have reminded him of other decisions he made, you included, so you change the subject.

"If you're done eating, we could make another stop," you say, looking over to the horses.

"Sure," Arthur says. "You just have to-"

He doesn't finish the sentence when you already help him up. You only let go of him when he's standing upright. Together, you make your way over to Arthur's horse. 

Galahad is grazing right next to your stallion, coming a few steps closer as you arrive. You hold out a little treat and both horses happily eat out of your hands.

Arthur moves closer and Galahad almost pushes him over by throwing his whole head against him. Laughing, Arthur pats the horse's neck, looking over at you. "He doesn't really like other people."

"Ah well, I told him that I saved your life and he immediately adored me."

Arthur huffs. "How many?"

"Treats?" you ask, thinking back to the first few days when nobody could even go near Galahad. "So, so many. I tried everything from carrots to sugar cubes. You have quite the horse there."

"I know," Arthur says, still patting the horse. "Any chance I could-?"

"I wouldn't," you say, already prepared for that question. "Walking around is one thing, but riding-"

Lucky for you, Arthur just nods, for once not arguing with you. To make him feel better, you nod to the woods. "I took him out a few times, first just walks and then a few short rides. He got nasty when he didn't get out much. I think he has a few things in common with his owner."

Arthur tries to hide a smile but fails, so he shrugs. "I guess."

You end up brushing the two horses while Arthur sits on a haybale nearby and after a while, Arthur breaks the silence. "Does that poor horse of yours at least have a name yet?"

You rub your neck, not quite sure if you want to give out that information. "Uhm, actually, yes."

"And?" Arthur says, stretching the word.

"It's Meny."

"Many?" Arthur draws his brows together, doubting your answer.

"Well, it's not Many with an A but with an E. Men-y. The girls came up with it."

"Why?"

"It's men and Y. Because I like to ride men," you say after clearing your throat. "There might have been some whiskey involved."

Arthur laughs. "That much I understand. But what did you do that you had to let them name the poor horse?"

"It's not what I did. They did a lot for me when I first started here. It was sort of a thank you. When I go away from here, I'll take their kindness with me."

You regret saying all that in the end, but Arthur nods. "It's a good name."

After spending a little more time with the horses, you take Arthur back to his tent. It's the first time he doesn't scold you for leaving him there. You should be happy, but Arthur being friendly just reminds you of the early days and the times you won't get back. Maybe it's a good idea to leave here soon.

—------

You spend the afternoon in the woods, pretending to hunt. Pearson's probably not buying it when you come back with only one rabbit, but at least you wasted enough time for the poker game to start. 

John asks you to fetch Arthur, so you find yourself in Arthur's embrace again when you help him up from his cot. You walk with him for a few more steps, but then you give him room. After all, you don't want the others to make fun of him before arriving at the game.

Charles and Javier are already sitting at the table and John brings over a box of beer bottles. You notice that the girls aren't around. Karen joins in quite often and Tilly likes to swoop in whenever she's low on cash to unburden the guys of a few extra dollars. 

You grab a chair, about to ask John about the girls, when you see the reason for their absence. Micah. The girls tend to give him a wide berth and from the way he talks to even you, it's pretty clear why.

"Well, look at you," he says, running his eyes all over your body. "Always nice to catch a glimpse of the prettiest boy in camp. You don't mind, right?"

Micah points at the chair next to you, making you shrug your shoulders. "You got to sit somewhere."

Sitting down, Micah winks at you while licking his lips. You only roll your eyes and turn away from him. Meanwhile, Arthur looks at Micah as if he's about to beat him to a pulp with his crutches. After a few loaded seconds, his common sense pulls through, and he sits down next to you.

"Everybody ready?" John says, opening his beer bottle. You have a feeling that he'll soon be an easy target.

After confirming nods and grunts around the table, Charles is the first one to deal. You take turns after that, and you take your time during the first rounds, only betting low or folding. You've played with most of the gang members by now, and know a little about their ways. 

Javier has a little tell here and there, but he mixes having a good hand and bluffing so well that you're never quite sure about his cards. 

Charles has a near-perfect poker face, and like you, he likes to concentrate more on the other players than the cards. He'll find your weakness and is not afraid to use it.

Finding out about John was tricky at first, but now you know that he's complete chaos. His play changes based on his moods and his alcohol intake. He manages to win 50 cents with a straight but also takes out two players with a pair of threes. At least until he's drunk. Then he might as well just hand the cash over.

Sitting next to Micah, you find out even more about him. He likes to fake his reactions and seems to have a new tell every time you play. All about him is a lie, so it's never easy to see his bluff.

You've never played with Arthur before, but it's not hard to see what he's doing. Most of the time, he's honest about his cards. He folds early when he has nothing and only raises when there's something to back it up with. The problem is that you never know how much he has. Arthur likes betting on a pair just as much as betting on a full house.

It's interesting to see the guys interact like this, teasing each other and trying to make somebody slip up. Once in a while, you feel their eyes on you, but after all, it's only natural for them to size you up as well.

After you win a couple of times, they grow more careful about betting against you, and Micah runs out of patience. He focuses less on the game and more on going on everybody's nerves. The boys grind their teeth and tell him to shut up, but you have to wonder how much standing Micah has. They let him get away with things others might get a fist to the face for.

"How about the two of us cash out and have a beer in the woods?" Micah asks you in the middle of the round.

"How about you shut up and just play the damn game?" Arthur growls before you can say anything.

It becomes dead quiet and you hate the tingling feeling in your chest. You want Arthur to protect you, you want him to get jealous and shut Micah up, but it's not his business anymore, not after what he said to you.

"What's it to you?" Micah asks with a satisfied grin. "You want to make a claim or something?"

It becomes clear to you then that Micah has no interest in you at all. He might fool around as a nice byproduct of his scheme, but the goal has always been to hurt Arthur. They must hate each other even more than you thought, and you just got caught in the middle. That's why Arthur just stepped in. To scold Micah. Not because of you.

"Two pair," you say, leaning forward to break up the staring contest between Arthur and Micah. "Aces and kings."

The seconds tick by with all of them either staring at you and your cards until John throws his cards on the table. "Shit, not again!"

He's got a pair of queens, and while he sulks leaning back against his chair, the others put their cards down as well. Javier comes closest to you with Jacks and nines, but you still win.

"Still waiting for an answer," Micah says, still looking at you.

You pull the winnings over to your side of the table, not even looking at him. "Sorry, pal, I like it here for now."

Micah huffs and takes his money before leaving. Nobody tries to stop him, and you could have sworn that Arthur is hiding a smile. It's your turn to deal, though, so you can't be sure if you saw it right.

You win two more times before hitting a dry spell where you mostly fold. The others are more cheerful by now. You're not sure if it's the booze or because of Micah leaving, but pretty soon, John is basically giving away his money until he's left with only a fresh bottle of beer.

At some point, Charles decides to go to bed, and there are talks about ending the game, but then Micah comes back, about as drunk as John. Javier and Arthur take turns cleaning him out bit by bit while he flirts with you even more.

You think about leaving when Micah changes his tactics, obviously angry that he's getting nowhere with you.

"You know what?" he says while leaning over, the smell of him almost too hard for you to handle. "You're probably not even man enough for me. Playing coy like a girl."

"He's playing you," Javier says with a grin, but Micah keeps looking at you. 

"You can't handle me."

"Wanna bet?" you ask, anger rising in you as well.

"Let's go then," Micah says with a lewd smile, nodding over to the nearby trees.

"The game," you say, throwing a coin in the middle.

Micah does so as well, but looking at your cards, you fear that you might soon eat your words. All you have is an ace and a whole lot of nothing. You're about to fold, but when Micah looks at his cards, you notice a little twitch under his beard. 

You've never seen that before as it seems too small to be done on purpose. Although it's an idiotic move, you raise a little, bit by bit. Javier folds soon, and Arthur goes along until Micah keeps raising more and more. 

It looks like he has a good hand, but you can't forget his face. There's no way he's not bluffing.

"This is too rich for me," Arthur grunts when he folds, and you know you should do the same, but you're unwilling to hand Micah the win.

Instead, you raise again, and after Micah goes all-in, it's time to face the music. You both put your cards down, and everybody leans over to see who won. 

"You have nothing," Javier says, surprise in his voice. "Both of you."

"He's got the Ace," Arthur says, nodding at you.

Micah stares at you. "But you never raise on nothing."

Your heart beats as if you've been caught doing something illegal. It's true that you rarely bluff, at least not with that much money involved. 

"People change," you say, trying hard to keep your voice steady.

"He's got you," Javier laughs and Arthur does nothing to hide a big grin.

Micah scoffs, but the truth is that you just won a big pile of money, simply for holding an ace when he didn't. You lean over to collect the money, smiling like an idiot. 

"You're lucky you're pretty," Micah says, leaving the table without looking back.

Javier gets up and claps your shoulder. "That, my friend, was a pleasure to watch."

He walks over to lie down next to Charles, and you turn to Arthur. "You want to play it out?"

"No. You take that money and you spend it on something stupid. Micah worked for that."

You both laugh, unable to hold in the joy of sticking it to Micah. He probably won't be as nice to you anymore, but seeing Arthur in a good mood is worth a thousand angry Micahs.

Without him asking, you help Arthur up again. He's getting better with the crutches and won't need your help anymore. After walking back to his tent, you make good use of the last chance you might ever get. 

When Arthur has his arm around you, you let him sink on his cot as slowly as you possibly can, feeling his warm body against yours and breathing in his scent. He lets go, his fingers dragging along the skin on your neck for just a second, waking a million memories in your mind.

You have to get away from him, from here, from all of this - as fast as possible.

[wroteclassicaly]

May I Taste Your Sin

(Michael Langdon x Female Reader)

Pairings : Michael Langdon x Female Reader

Warnings : Language, smut, blood, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blood play, & period sex.

A/N : This fic has been a loooong time coming! I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, but now that I have inspo I wanted get this out for y’all! The warnings are obviously self-explanatory, so skip this if you don’t like the contents it’s gonna contain! Michael Langdon eats human hearts, and he’s a demon, before anyone starts to fuss over this, lol. I’m sure menstrual cycles with his partner would be a dessert to him!

Enjoy! This one is pretty intense, so I’m nervous about it! I also have more installments with different characters coming in the next few days! :)

Check out where I first posted the teaser for this fic, and check out these period sex headcanons I wrote for Michael!

~*~

He keeps staring at you. You try to move about, do your tasks, even attempt conversation with people you’d tried so hard to avoid these past several years. Your abilities to function like the human being that you are, seemingly vanish whenever the tall honey blond is within your exhausted proximities. You aren’t sure if you’d like to let out the loudest echoing scream and see where it ends up in this place, or let your wildest carnal urges guide your hormones into a literal sticky situation. Or, at the very least, let yourself fantasize about seducing him in your own self-created version of reality.

You’ll have to settle on the latter, unfortunately. Pocketing the cream colored dish rag, you place the last row of finely printed novels on the book shelve. Your fingertips linger, attempting to find a portal through their leather cover tops. Your tongue slicks your parched lips, neck stretching to crack out the tension. You aren’t trying to do anything but stealing some relaxation, when a largely hot hand is pressing a knot-out in a knead on your shoulder - clasping, settling a risky purchase.

You don’t have to make an educated guess to know whose hand that belongs to. He practically spews out his control and ownership of this place every chance that he gets. Biting down a venomous sigh, you coerce yourself into a turn around - gathering an eyeful of Langdon’s fancy black vest. That’s not good enough for the King, apparently, as he fits his pointer finger underneath your chin in a tuck, thumb pressing against your jaw to tilt your gaze to his own.

“Did you forget your manners, Miss Y/L/N?”

The way his shining eyes are sizing your attention, captivating your unwillingness to comply to how Langdon makes you feel - it can’t be humanly possible, can it? There’s that possessive ache that begs you to launch ownership over him and his entire body. Why is everything so widely dramatic whenever he’s around? Is he just full of himself or is it something way more than you’re aware? A crackling parch winds its pathway around your throat, sealing your breath in.

Nothing comes from between your lips. You’re frozen solid, legs a weightless press. Each touch this... man brings upon your body is like a bass thump - pumping you towards his secretive rhythm. All you can do is sway with the beat. Langdon smirks coyly, his other hand resting behind his back in an idle grace.

Neither of you dare utter a word. However, Langdon is seemingly content in making you squirm and you try to focus on everything but his perfectly crafted jawline, and how eagerly you’d suck on it if asked. You swear you can hear your heartbeat galloping off, so strong that it can tear your heart right out of your chest along with it. His colorful eyes glance over you in a brief stamping sweep, lingering at your sore breasts and your waistline.

What is he even doing...?

“Excuse me, but Ms. Venable did not authorize any private conferences with the help.” A cold and steel - grasped voice chills your bones down, dusting your cheeks with a reddening humiliation.

You haven’t even so much as spoken to Langdon, yet it feels like you two have been clawing and scratching at each other all over this fucking outpost, riding one another until you can’t fathom walking upright. You still can’t speak, but Langdon takes care of that for you.

“Interesting, and did Ms. Venable give you permission to waltz in here when you weren’t requested or required, just to give a meaningless order?” Langdon is mildly amused in his question, his hand still paused on your chin, thumb now swiping in a tickling drop with his fingertip - along your jaw.

Ms. Mead looks comical in her brief attempt at forming a snappy comeback, only to go silent in defeat. You take this tension as your escape line - quickly edging from the sacred confines Langdon has built for you two, and you all but run out the door. You’re clutching your shirt collar, punching a two pounce path up the staircase and to the help’s quarters.

Chores now, panic later.

~*~

Five minutes. Five fucking minutes in this place that you’ve served without question, complaint, for nearly two years - is all you want. But as the heavy handed rasps of Mead’s knuckle bones beat on your bathroom door, you know that is a simple pipe dream. Her low voice is harsh with you, making your headache unfold into a full blown migraine. You shift uncomfortably, knees knocking together, thighs sore against the cool porcelain seat below you.

Langdon must’ve massively pissed her off... Good.

Your palms collect purchase to your cradle your face, your eyes glistening with tears, throat burning with frustration. It hurts too much to stand upright this time. Normally women would lose this in stressful situations. Add the apocalypse and barely eating, you’d peg it normal to receive nothing. However, your predicament is much worse, fucking you over once more.

Your body welcomes Mother Nature each month. Unpredictable, yet there. Heavy, excruciating. You could list on and on reasons that don’t amount to much. You’re stuck with a part of you that won’t ever come to fruition.

Not in your former life, especially not in this one. Another reminder that carries an award winning irony. Sighing, you peer down at the red dish rag you were given. Literally on the rag, what a joyous harmony. The elites of course, are given the tampons and pads.

You have to use scraps of fabric you’re forced to wash in the bathtub if you move too fast or sneeze. And on your heavy days when you haven’t the time to stop your duties to wash and air out the towels, things are much harder. At least before the apocalypse you had chocolate, feminine products, a warm shower to take your time in, movies to curl up with, and a place of your own to cry where no one could hear you. You sniffle, hormones locking down your heart.

Most recently the outpost had welcomed the cooperative leader Langdon. He had interviewed everyone but you, uninterested, only flustering you a few times. Him being here just makes your period a more unwelcome storm. This morning as you were passing him on the landing of the staircase, delivering the bath towels to elite rooms, he stared at you. Right into you, nostrils flaring, tongue rolling out to slick his plump lips, blue eyes darkening.

Then there was this afternoon. How could I forget...?

The encounters were over quicker than they took place. Still, his acknowledgment of you didn’t bring your interview, nor did it promise your application for the sanctuary he preaches about. Forcing your tears to bank, you stand with your dress skirt and apron held up, staring at the stained rag in your panties. You turn and flush the toilet, eating back around to the shock of your fucking life. There, just feet in the from the doorway, is Langdon in all his glory.

It makes you swallow harshly, stomach drawing off the butterflies that have grown claws. You feel winded. His ring covered fingers bring an object to your sights. A thinly wrapped stick. You don’t answer, you don’t move, you don’t protest him approaching until he’s directly in front of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You try, a mere whisper betraying your bravery.

“Helping you,” He answers simply, a heated slide crossing his mouth. You can practically taste him, damn near swaying forward.

You start to snap back into your senses, ready to cover your remembered modesty back up. He grasps your wrist, a hungry look soft in his features. “Will you let me?”

You’re shaking, body on fire at him touching you, you try to keep your legs from clenching, that want. You know what will occur if you let yourself. He is gentle with you, admiration clear. Why? You don’t understand this.

“You’re bleeding, I know.”

Jaw unhinged, you stand upright, his fingers still ghosting your skin. An unlucky movement on your part, the warmth spills from you and you look down between your thighs in horror at the red lines running down your legs, pattering against the floor. Langdon is breathing heavily, practically panting, stunning you once more. His other hand grips your cheek, thumb swiping your lip, eyes not breaking contact from yours.

“Do you know how good your cunt smells? Every pathetic person in this outpost is starving and you have the best meal between your fucking legs.”

When your silence stretches on, Michael nudges forward, careful with you. “May I feast?”

It’s all too much to handle. Having him talk to you, you speaking to him. And now this? How? You begin to grow dizzy, hands trembling as you try to pull your clothing back up. Langdon’s hands grip your wrists.

“Please don’t do that.”

You want to stun him incredulously, backhand him. None of that is happening, not even the urge. Instead, your want for him is magnifying beyond any feigned ignorance. Your tongue slides out across your lips, teeth biting down on your bottom lip in a brisk chew. Langdon hooks his middle finger between your teeth, releasing your lip and combing the blood across in a coppery gloss.

Your chest is startled, rising and falling in quivering quakes, ears hearing a static rush. Everything inside of you is alive and crying out in need to be sated. Langdon grips you around the waist, lowering his forehead to rest atop your own, his middle finger - still doused in your blood - slithers past his own lips, which close in a sticky suckle. A vibrating moan pummels his throat, causing a constricting swallow that showcases his Adam’s apple.

If I could only just lick that...

Langdon is sly and devilishly cunning to a fault - fast in his next movements. He presses a designer boot down over your skirts, successfully preventing them from being made up. “Leave them here for someone else.”

“I... I can’t. This is too much, Langdon —“ He chuckles at the formality.

“Since I can see your womanhood running from between your legs, I suppose it’s only fair that we skip some formalities, don’t you agree, Y/N?” Your eyes are probably wider than necessary - a cartoon like sight. He’s used your full name in an authoritative command, leaving no room for question. “And you may call me Michael.”

It’s all a little more frantic from this point. He gives the slightest of information, and you see your skirts and panties gliding across the floor in a winded push. Michael brings that wrapped item back into your eye-line. “We won’t be needing this for a while.”

“I didn’t say yes.” You try, swallowing a weak, whimpering stifle.

“But you didn’t say no, did you?” That shit eating grin. He has you and he is all too aware - elated to the brimming brimstone of hellfire you’re about to bestow upon yourself.

Your insides melt into the trenches of red hot, raw ravishment. Michael drops his left arm down, hand palming his hardening cock through black slacks, eyes encouraging you in a chained bind. “Let’s go and make a mess in my room.”

Now or never. No more of this, back to reality, maybe some place better. You’re spinning in a foiling encasement, precipice wide and open - hungry to pull you under. And you dive in, you let it all go. Michael looks satisfied, sharing something with himself that you don’t know... yet.

Taking Michael Langdon’s hand, you’re led into the unknown.

~*~

Langdon leads you down his own separate corridor, your free hand scolded for trying to hold yourself over your uniform.

“I want you to make a mess.” Michael says.

You hope that you’re not the one who will be paying the cost for your own said mess, or cleaning it up. If it’s up to Venable - you’ll be licking it, all the way to her high heeled boots.

Once inside the confines of Michael Langdon’s bedroom, you take the time to look around, enjoying the perks this situation is bringing. The room isn’t any different than what the purple elites get here, it is bordering on a more... lived in feel, which is ironic when you consider that Langdon hasn’t been here like everyone else has for the past three years.

Guess he’s just more comfortable? He does look like an English vampire half the time..

On that note, a particularly harsh cramp antagonizes your uterus, causing you to clench your abdomen, choking out a acidic slice. “Fucking demonic cramps.”

Michael - now clad in his all black ensemble, minus the overcoat - chortles, knotting his fingers together behind his back and strolls forward, wetting his lips as the firelight crackles a sparking soundtrack. “It’s ironic how you refer to it as “demonic”, when Satan really has nothing to do with this. I mean, it’s not on him that humanity failed their pitiful guidelines for sobering temptation. Wasn’t it your lord and savior that bestowed this curse upon you?” He finishes, giving a head tilt to your unhinged stun.

“Are you religious?” Is all you can come up with.

Michael sneers, looking slightly offended. It fades seconds later. “Depends on your definition of religious, and then there is what one believes in. But I guess you can say that I’m devoted to... a certain cause.”

“Were you this mysterious before the apocalypse, or is that why the cooperative gave you the job?” You try, a discomfort crackling at your inner thighs.

They’re probably smeared... And not just with blood.

“I bet you’re uncomfortable.” Michael teases, snapping his fingers at the fireplace. Did your eyes betray you, or did the flames flicker?

You want to give a snappy comeback, but it feels unwise. You nod like the sap that you are, nails biting your palms. Your heartbeat has begun to accelerate, a visible sight beneath your apron. Langdon guides himself to step in front of you, leather shoes drumming across the floor beneath. Every sound in this forsaken room is flowing through your eardrums - Michael’s scent on the tip of your tongue.

You need him. More than your body has to have the air that filters underneath this mausoleum. You’re so unsteady, eyes brimming with the smoking arousal, blocking common sense. Michael catches you as you collide with his chest, wrapping your fists into his vest. His blue irises are disappearing to a canyon of night sky - lavish black so sinful that it steals the breath from your lungs.

Drizzling off your tongue is a hesitation. “Won’t we get into trouble...? Venable -“ Those rough fingertips hold a softness that hushes your lips, denting.

“Can watch me with my face buried into your cunt. The humiliation will arouse her.” Michael answers in his own finish.

You aren’t sure why, but that grates your mouth into a sneaky grin, shared with Michael’s, sensing that slapping throb at his phrases. He pinches your chin, nuzzling your head to the side, his lips sloping a map across your neck. His towering physique backs you by knocking his knees into your thighs, delivering you to the edge of his bed. You drop like wild weights, looking towards the ceiling, trying to take a deep inhalation. Langdon crouches, pants rustling as they tighten around his temptingly thick thighs.

He tuts in a scold, chiding you furthermore. “You will watch what I’m getting ready to do to you! Is that clear, Y/N?”

You don’t answer fast enough, Michael’s hand wrapping around your throat, eyes burning hellfire through you - dusting your bones to ash. Your throat is wet with the clingy, unshed tears. Fuck, you have to be filled up until you’re hollowed out. Michael is languid in grace, hand toppling into your lap, joining his other.

“Take down your hair, Y/N.”

Like a puppet, you obey your new owner. Unwrapping the pointed bun, you shake your locks free, sighing in an eased tickle.

“What a good and obedient girl that you are. Those who obey, shall reap the riches.”

“Why are you doing this?” An ignorant question on your part.

“Because,” As if it’s the most simple answer in this broken world, Michael let’s his hands start to unbutton his vest, carelessly sending it, his attention not wavering off you in the slightest. “I’m hungry.”

A literal moan comes from you, making Langdon hiss through his through his milky white teeth. He resumes his former position, hovering.

“Spread.” Michael says, a quaint wonder adorning him, his palms sliding up and down your legs to feel you part them. The blood is mixing some fucked out potion with your creamy arousal for him, and he knows it, has it right into your tremble from the exposure.

Your skin is steaming in scrapes, responding so vulgarly to Michael, that he is hooking his wrists under your knees, bouncing the flesh into his awaiting hands, and claiming. He hoists your legs over his shoulders to arch you to his idea of perfection. You should be protesting, in a shambled shyness. That is gone, no place here. Michael let’s his nose rest in the crease of your thigh, crudely sniffing like some beast.

His sopping tongue finds a striking stroke along your ruby red, damp thigh.

Closer... He’s getting closer...

When you can’t feel that warm and snide air he possesses, you lock to load a question. Michael is shedding himself of his remaining clothing in a cocky crawl. His hair curtains his face as he sees you seek out his cock - thick and heavy, weighted and wet with pre-cum.

“Finish taking off your clothing.” You’ve never done something so fast in your years alive.

You have to admit, being so vulnerable like this - naked and bleeding, it has you buzzing.

Michael outstretches a veined forearm, the back of his rings swirling in desiring dances across your breasts. “Do these hurt?”

Your lashes are slicked in perspiring tears, the tired soreness harassing your chest. He has his truth. His trim form bows to you once more, placing your legs back where they belong. He knuckles a pressing push into your abdomen. “Bear down.”

It isn’t an accident this time, it’s not a discreet secrecy. Michael wants you this way. All of you. Finding a confidence, you give yourself a high and sink your fingers into his hair, toes tickling his shoulder blades in a forwarding nudge, doubling down on your muscles. That warmth spills out of you and Langdon takes you, tongue parting your swollen folds. He regulates his tongue in wet paints, licking and sucking everything you give him.

“Please—“ You’re already begging. It’s so fucking intense and intimate that you can’t formulate your own damned name.

“Are you really going to ask, or would you just like to feel good?” Michael vibrates, his mouth visible and shining crimson as he seeks you out between your slippery thighs.

It’s outright feral. His irises are coal black, blue lost in some combing canyon that’s crumbled around sin. His digits prod at your sensitive opening, being accepted moments later. His lips close over your clit, tongue slithering back and forth to assist his beckoning fingers. He gathers more from you - his purpose.

That quenched fold starts to seize you early on, your pattering breaths signaling the orgasm that is about to tear the screams from your fucking diaphragm. Michael’s hand smacks and rolls your swollen breast - permission granted. That’s all it takes and you’re falling back onto the mattress, back arching in a lined drag, pussy flattening against his mouth. He jerks you impossibly closer, your vision whiting out into dark spots. You tangle your fingers further into his luscious strands, holding, pulling.

In the midst of close recovery, Michael is plowing you with a short lived let down, his mouth leaving your pussy. You can’t complain, no time available, as his hips slot in a frazzled fit between your legs. His pelvis is tense, sheathed in sweat. His chest smashes your breasts, his hand reaching down to guide his cock inside you. You can’t speak, but cling tightly to his back. He growls a sound that you’ll never forget, the fire bursting behind him, flames licking the rocked cove that houses them.

His mouth is covered in your essence, your cunt bathing his dick with each violent thrust. It’s pouring in drenches, salty perspiration, pooling blood - both of you losing yourselves in the mess. Michael props himself up, digging into a dipping slam, meeting your mouth in an ending kiss. His hair tickles your shoulders, nose nudges your now blood caked mouth, and he gives the warning.

“Spill your fucking curse all over me!” And you come undone, glued to him in puzzled entrapment.

Your thighs are wrecked, his bedsheets useless, and then there’s Michael, who forces you to look at him and really see him. There’s only black in his eyes. You sputter a disbelief, bracing. His mouth parts, tongue flicks across to gather more, leveling off into his jagged movements. He swells inside your cunt, dousing your walls in his warm cum.

He doesn’t leave you, not even when it’s over. He simply takes you with him. You aren’t sure where you get the courage to speak - body shaking and shivering.

“What... Michael, who are you?”

He cups a hand over your cunt, rolling onto his side, keeping you held to him. He lightly blows away a pesky lock of your hair, then maneuvers another behind your ear.

“I’m the man who’s going to save your wretched existence.”

Tag list : @littledemondani @dark-mei-rose @fckinsupreme @angelicmichael @icylangdon @ritualmichael @sojournmichael @celestialrequiem @instinctsxbaby @infernwetrust @ferndolan @9layerdevilfoodcake @bloodcoatedeclipse @wormycircumstance @antichristsxbox @xavierplympton @xavierplymptons @ramona-thorns @lovelylangdonx @langdxn @codyarchives @dailylangdon @codyfernuk @langdonsjoyy @7-wonders @blakescoven @holylangdon @bitchchatter @suspiriva @taskmastter @kitty4860 @ladynuwanda @langdonsexual @sammythankyou

[fernweh-writes]

hiya! can you do HCs for the slashers with a male s/o? i usually always see them geared towards women so itd be fun to switch it up! (it could be their first m/m relationship or not, doesnt matter!)

Of course hun! Usually I try to keep my writing pretty gender neutral and as inclusive as possible. Hope you enjoy! Also I’m trying to get better with adding warnings… it’s a work in progress

Slashers x Male S/O

Warning: slight nsfw content in all of these and it’s slashers so mentions of murder, kidnapping, etc

Michael Meyers

Michael isn’t good with feelings, usually his feelings towards others are anything but positive, he’s sure of that. But something about you was different, he wasn’t a fan of the feeling honestly. But Michael is a curious person, so he ends up stalking you for a decent amount of time. Eventually, he’s able to predict your every move, he knows your schedule, has figured out all your favorite things. He knows everything about you.

Michael eventually comes to terms with the fact he has a crush on you. After stalking you for some time, he was able to figure out the feeling. But at first he was honestly contemplating making you his next victim just so the feeling would go away. Now he recognizes it as a good feeling though, he needs to keep you and make you his.

His go to is knocking you out on your way home from work one evening. When you wake up you’re arms are tied to the bed, but he was kind enough to leave your feet unrestrained. At first, he just stares at you, unsure of what to do now that he has you. His favorite thing is watching you while you sleep, you just look so content and happy.

Eventually, Michael lets you wander around the house. He knows you can’t leave him, he’ll simply find you again. After all, he’s stalked you for so long he would be able to find you easily. Even if you do alert the cops it’s not like it’s his first time dealing with them. It’s best if you don’t run away, he isn’t against teaching you not to leave him again if you try.

If you make attempts to be kind to him he absolutely adores it! Massaging his shoulders, rubbing patterns across his skin, baking and cooking for him are all gestures that he loves. But, it also proves to him that you care which makes him more possessive over you.

Speaking of possessive, Michael also has the strong urge to always prove to you that he’s the dominant one. He both needs and craves control and feels the need to prove that he’s bigger and stronger than you are. Expect some rough treatment from time to time, he likes to remind you of your place.

He’s a virgin and the only knowledge he really has about sex comes from what he’s caught his victims doing. While he does do a lot of stalking, he really hasn’t learned much. Besides, most of what he’s seen has been between girls and guys, very rarely has it been anything else. But once you show him? He’s insatiable. While he’s never thought much about his sexual desires before, you’ve completely changed that. You can expect him to be pressing against your ass at any time of the day.

Loves joining you in the shower. One, it’s just an easy way for him to see you naked. Two, he usually gets you to wash his hair and all for him and he loves the feeling. You running your hands all over his body to bathe him leads to three, he usually forces you to your knees and gets you to wrap those pretty lips around him. Loves the sight of you looking up at him with water on you eyelashes and lust in your eyes. Some times you’re gonna need a second shower.

Bo Sinclair

Bo is the one most likely to deny to himself that he finds you attractive. He grew up in the Deep South with a religious family in a religious town. Anything that isn’t between a guy and a girl was always frowned upon so it takes him a minute to come to terms with his feelings.

Once he does expect him to be a big flirt. Turns out, Bo can smooth talk guys and girls all the same. It’s easy for him though considering that there’s so much about you he likes that he never seems to run out of compliments. Quickly decides that he loves the sight of you blushing and flustered by the things he says.

Once again, feels the need to prove that he’s the dominant one. Bo has never given up control to anyone, you’re not going to be any different. Often makes a show of his strength to prove he’s stronger than you. Bo also just loves to manhandle you in general, especially during sex. You just look so cute when you get all flustered about him moving you around like you weigh nothing.

Lots of ass grabbing and lewd comments once he gets comfortable with you. He’s a major pervert, so expect him to be handsy with you all of the time.

Eventually gets to the point where he likes to flaunt you. You spend a lot of time with him down at the station and he occasionally gives you small, easy chores to do, but mostly he keeps you there to chat with and keep him company. This also means that you see a lot more of the victims than you might like to and Bo isn’t afraid to let them know the two of you are together. If anyone says anything rude to you then he makes sure they get turned to wax a lot faster than he normally would. If he deems the comment to offensive then there wont be much left of them to make into wax, sorry Vincent.

Bo likes to make you believe that he would never let you top him. But if your able to hold out long enough, you can make him so needy for you that he’ll relent and allow it, but only just the once. Okay, maybe more than once but it’s still a rare occasion. He still won’t let anyone believe that he would ever bottom though. Like I said before, Bo needs to feel in control and that extends to being in control of you as well.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent wasn’t as well versed in relationships as Bo or even Lester. While he would know that he’s attracted to guys, he wouldn’t have much experience at all. He would be very surprised if you showed any interest in him at all honestly, but when you do he knows he has to keep you.

He’s very shy and nervous at first. You’re most likely the first person he’s ever had a romantic relationship with so he’s very unsure of what to do at first. It’ll take a lot of reassurance from you to get him to open up to you and even longer for him to feel confident around you. Since he doesn’t talk and is pretty socially awkward, you can expect small gifts to be his go to way of wooing you. Like a penguin giving you pebbles, he is a large man bringing you wax figures.

Vincent would definitely play a big care taker role honestly. He’s both your protector and your provider. You depend upon him to survive in Ambrose and he enjoys feeling in control for once. Vincent does a good job of making sure you’re taken care of as well. Always makes sure that you eat until your full, gives you only the best of clothes from victims suitcases, and you get first pick of the items left behind by the victims.

Likes keeping you close by. Not down in his workshop of course, he doesn’t want you to see him as a monster and witness the cruel things he does. Besides, he sees you as to precious, to pure and innocent to be able to handle witnessing such things. Of course, you’re aware of the wax figures, but you’re not aware of how they’re made and he wants to keep it that way.

Vincent prefers to have you tied up beneath him with your cheeks flushed and skin covered in sweat. Also thinks your skin looks great when it’s covered in wax. Also loves the way you look so needy for him to give you some sort of relief with your pupils blown wide, lips parted, as your hips attempt buck against his.

However, Vincent does occasionally enjoy letting you take the ropes. This usually happens when he’s stressed out and has to much on his mind. Being able to let go and let you be in charge of his pleasure gives him the freedom and comfort that he needs.

Brahms Heelshire

His parents would be surprised at him requesting a male nanny but so many women had failed that he was curious to try something else. When you came along, he decided that you were perfect for him!

Unlike most of the other slashers, Brahms is more than okay with you topping him, He secretly enjoys being forced into submission and only occasionally likes to take up the dominant role in the bedroom. Goes absolutely feral for the way you discipline him and get him to submit and be good, especially since you never fail to tell him what a good boy he is and how much you enjoy him being well behaved just for you.

At the start though, he simply watches you through the walls. Especially enjoys watching you while you’re in your room or taking a shower. He’s a dirty little wall pervert what do you expect. Once he watches you jerk off for the first time, he quickly decides that he’s 100% attracted to you. Like I said, he’s a dirty wall man.

Enjoys that you still follow the schedule and do such a good job of filling the domestic roles he craves. You provide him with more structure and stability than anyone else previously had. You’re not scared to discipline him when he steps out of line and you do such a good job of taking care of him. Especially loves when you indulge him and spoil him, it drives him crazy.

He’s needy and clingy and loves to cuddle up to you. Brahms is practically glued to your hip 24/7, following you around the mansion like a lost puppy. He’s lucky you find him cute otherwise you would grow annoyed with him quite easily. He enjoys laying his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat, it’s really soothing to him.

Please read to him while he cuddles up against you. It’s his favorite thing ever, especially if you give him attention while you do so like playing with his hair or simply running your free hand up and down his back soothingly.

Will purposefully find ways to get dirty so that you have to bathe him. Refuses to get into the tub or shower unless you join him. Really just wants to be pressed up against the shower wall and fucked. If he needs an excuse to see you naked, he’ll steal your clothes and hide them. Then he watches from the walls as you have to go up to your room to get more clothes. The clothes he stole will remain in his room within the walls to curl up with whenever he pleases.

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher

Honestly these two would compete over you. Might even have a bet over who can woo you first. They get jealous of the other very easily.

Billy is intimidating and plenty of people are scared of him, for good reason of course. So with him you don’t really have to worry about anyone being rude or saying anything offensive. If they do then you’ll see them on the news within the next few days. If you mention it to Billy he basically says “wow, that’s unfortunate, whatever will the world do without them.”

Stu is more likely to get physical with the person as soon as anything offensive leaves their mouth. Usually he’s less affected than Billy but he’s just so protective over you that he can’t manage to keep his cool. Sadly this means he can’t kill the person since he would be more likely to be a suspect after a physical altercation like that. They’ll still have a broken nose.

Billy is more likely to be a top, Stu is more likely to bottom but he is a switch so he likes to top occasionally to. Billy is also more rough with you in bed and enjoys running the blade of his knife across your skin while he has his other hand wrapped tightly around your throat. He degrades you while he fucks you, even the praise is degrading, telling you how good you look getting fucked like the slut you are. Stu is a lot sweeter and needier when it comes to sex. He likes to praise and compliment you, telling you how good you make him feel and how good you look just for him.

Both of them are very proud of you. They aren’t afraid to show you off or be seen with you. We all know that Stu is handsy but Billy isn’t afraid to sweet talk you in front of anyone and everyone. Claims he’s classier than Stu for not basically shoving his hand down your pants in public like he hasn’t grinded against you multiple times already. He’s just more discreet about being handsy in public.

Jesse Cromeans

You get to live lavishly with Jesse, that’s for sure. He makes sure to absolutely spoil you, anything you want is yours. The movies confirmed multiple times that he’s rich and it turns out when it comes to you, Jesse is very generous with his money.

Although, he does love choosing what you wear. Of course all of the clothes in your large closet are designer, he can’t have his boyfriend looking poor. Jesse prefers to dress you up in expensive dress shirts, slacks, and ties, something about it just gets him going. Some times he’ll allow you to wear sweatpants or whatever comfy clothes you want but it’s still going to be name brand stuff.

Also likes to shower with you. Picks out expensive and high end products so that you always smell good. Of course Jesse always smells good, his favorite colognes are never less than $100 for even a small bottle. Sometimes when he comes home late at night and crawls into bed next to you, you can still smell the slight metallic scent of blood on him. It’s usually hard to notice though since the sheets smell strongly of him that it can mask it.

He’s perverted and loves to show you off. Once you find out what he does, he won’t hesitate to take you with him on his “business trips” to different warehouses. Jesse keeps you safely tucked away in his office though, he can’t risk putting you in harms way and certainly doesn’t want you to witness the carnage. Prefers you to sit in his lap during meetings and he isn’t afraid to feel you up during them either.

If he ever gets you to blow him under his desk one day don’t expect him to let you stop just because Spann or Preston walks in. Jesse won’t hesitate to force your head back down if you try and pull away. In fact, having you choke on his cock while someone else in the room does nothing but make him feel even more aroused. Luckily for you, it’ll definitely deter Spann from trying to make any more moves on your boyfriend.

Asa Emory

Asa is a sadist and he absolutely loves to see you squirm. You can expect constant teasing and degrading from him at all times, very rarely does he compliment you. When he does compliment you though, just know he truly means them. Asa doesn’t really do feelings, his best way of showing he cares for you is by keeping you locked in his home rather than in his demented hotel.

Honestly, he probably does his best to keep you from knowing about the extent of his nightly activities. Of course you know about the hotel, you spent a few months there. You also know Asa is sadistic and enjoys hurting other people, even you that he cares so much about. But your stay at the hotel was luxurious compared to what happens to the other people in there. And while he inflicted some pain and left small cuts on you with his knife, it was nothing compared to the way he tortured the other people.

Again, Asa needs control and enjoys being in charge of everything you do. He picks out your clothes, plans out your day for you, he’s into the whole dumbification thing. You have a list of responsibilities like cooking for him and keeping the already neat house clean and tidy. Your not just his boyfriend, you’re his pet. Anything he instructs you to do, you do, otherwise you’ll be punished.

Makes sure you have your own guard dog. He hates having to leave you alone and so he leaves his best trained German Shepherd with you to keep you safe. But on the bright side at least you have well trained company that also happens to be very cuddly and friendly with you. Just don’t let Asa know you let the dog on the couch…

[wizkiddx]

hiiiii !!! if you are accepting requests at the moment, can i ask something about reader and tom expecting a baby, one day while he’s drunk she sees him flirting with another women and when she confronts him he snaps at her and tells her he’s not ready for this “shit”. So they broke up and broke contact for months, until he shows in her apartment regretting his words and they talk but she suddenly at that moment gets into labor?!? I remember seeing a concept similar in a movie but I would love if you couldn’t bring it to life! Thank you so much in advance, appreciate your work a lot 🧸🤎

right so I loved this so much it has become a multiple parter and im not even going to apologise. so thanku so so much anon for getting me out a little rut!!!

summary: when toms caught out all hope looks lost - probs part 1 of 3 but it could get a bit longer too lol

warnings: serious angst, reference to abortion, cheating, a whole lot of swearing (im British sorry not sorry)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hi babe, just to let you know Yamna’s invited me out for dinner this evening so don’t worry if you get home early and im not back! I love you x”

It was a spur of the moment plan, which was a rarity recently. The past 5 months since you’d found out, you could name barely 5 occasions you’d been out past 8 oclock- trading your heels for fuzzy slippers and dresses for massively oversized tops and joggers. It wasn’t how you had expected to be spending the summer before your 25th birthday but it was now your life. The rooftop bars, the wild nights, the get aways had all sort of been cancelled for… for the rest of your life.

Because an 8 month pregnant belly isn’t something you can ignore.

Sure…. it wasn’t the plan. Not the plan to be pregnant with your boyfriend of only 6 months, who at the time you didn’t even live with. But you were making it work. And now, you were just excited. It was the start of a new story with Tom, and you’d got past the phase of being sad and mourning your youth. Because the little bubba inside of you, she was pretty awesome and you really couldn’t wait to meet her.

So yes, you had been home alone eating ice cream from a tub when Yamna knocked on the door. She’d been one of your best mates for as long as you could remember so when she’d turned up unannounced with mascara smeared under her eyes you’d cancelled your plans of a pathetic alone evening. Her boss had just given her the sack - which was no surprise. He was a backwards tory old git who couldn’t handle the fact Yamna was a woman doing the job better than he could ever dream of.

So yes, you’d suggested going out to the fancy new bar down the road - to celebrate the fact she no longer had to put up with the arsehole. Obviously you couldn’t drink and neither did Yamna, but you go to a bar for the atmosphere - and the selection of mocktails they had was insane.

Your boyfriend Tom was already out, he said he had a meeting and then dinner with some execs he needed to shmoosh. Of course you didn’t mind, but he had been working a lot recently, in order to be able to have the time off when your baby girl arrives.

So after sending a little text and giving Yamna another hug to try and turn the evening from disappointment to celebration you walked out the door with a smile on your face. Maybe you could pretend, just for an evening to not be pregnant and whale-like?

///////////////////////////

The bar was just a 10 minute walk so it wasn’t long before the two of you were soaking up the atmosphere. It was all decorated in a rustic fashion, with old exposed wood and dangling lightbulbs from the ceiling and the drinks were incredible. The type that have dry ice or flames or some other sort of fantastical display of edible decorations. Even Yamna had perked up, especially when a guy from the table across had bought you both a round of drinks.

“I’m just gonna pop to the loo.”

“Do you really need the toilet or do you just want to parade infornt of the fit rich man who keeps looking at you?”

“ Is both an option?” You laughed as Yamna slipped off her stool, winking rather dramatically as she did so. She was unbelievable - but at least this way she wasn’t thinking about her work, or lack thereof, anymore.

Happily you sat scrolling though your phone, seeing that tom had messaged you with an okay, before flicking through instagram.

And that was where the happiness ended.

For in a hurried manner, with a face looking a lot more ghosted than when she left, Yamna took her seat again.

“Are you okay?” Immediately your worry took over, the way she was biting her lip and not meeting your eyes not helping.

“I um yeh-yeh. Just I think I saw Tom.”

“Tom as in my Tom?” Her almost guilty looking nod had your scrunching your eyebrows, why was it such a big deal Tom was inside?

“He didn’t see me I don’t think but er… he just looked pretty close to a girl and I-“

To be honest you stopped listening at that point, heart dropping out the bottom of your chest. Because it made sense, he had been so distant recently and even if you’d been lying to yourself that it were work - this seemed much more likely. Whilst nodding along, pretending to listen to Yamna, instead your attention was solely focused on fiddling with the promise ring he’d got you after the two of you decided to keep the baby. He’d been so committed, so ready for this unexpected news. He’d said he was in for the long haul.

“Y/n?”

“sorry I um… it’s probably just a work colleague he needs to sweet talk. I’ll um-I’ll just go say hello.”

“I’m coming with you.” She spoke astutely, very much forcing herself into the situation.

“No no I’ll… I’ll come back if I need you, just wait here.”

Her face was so grim and destitute, as much as you were pretending it was okay - you knew it wasn’t. Before Yamna could protest further, you slipped off your seat ( clumsily thanks to the elephant belly) and walked with fake confidence back inside.

It took you barely 3 seconds to hone in on Tom, call it mothers intuition. He was on a booth in the corner with 5 others on his table but none of whom you recognised. It was 2 other guys and 3 girls - the six all paired off in mathcingly initimate conversations. Apart from that you payed almost zero attention to the others, attention solely focused on your boyfriend and the girl he had his arm round.

She was everything you weren’t. She was skinny - you, as previously mentioned, looked like you had a beachball stuffed under your top. She was blonde with sleek and perfectly styled waves at the tips of her long her - yours was thrown into a messy bun due to the last minute plans.

Most importantly - right now she was wrapped in Toms arms, whilst you stood alone watching.

God knows what came over you, but with confidence you never normally had you marched up to the table, just waiting at the end. One of the men you didn’t recognised, arrogantly asked you ‘can I help you’ - but you completely disregarded it, eyes solely fixed on Tom. He took a moment more to look away from the leggy girl, but as soon as he did his eyes grew massively wide.

“Y/n I-I-“

“Fancy bumping into you, I thought you were out with work executives?” Frantically casting his gaze across the table, you could see the cogs whirring to try and come up with an explanation.

“No I-I was but then Charlie here came over, we used to be mates at school and-“

“Oh fuck off Tom., I cant deal with this right now.”

You didn’t even have the energy to listen to his clearly fake excuses as to why he’d landed himself in that situation. You also certainly did not have it in you to maintain the strong face, you could feel everything shattering inside of you.

Because it was so blindingly obvious by how he had acted. You’d caught him out and you both knew it.

And it fucking hurt like hell.

So you exited the bar as fast as physically possible, hearing the shouts of both Yamna and Tom behind you. You didn’t know what you needed in that moment - except that neither of them were the answer. Tom though, presumably the faster of the two, managed to catch up - grabbing your arm to make you halt in the road.

There was this moment between the two of you that time almost seemed to freeze. The two of you, in an otherwise pretty empty residential street, at 9:30 at night, in a moment that you would never have again. From your point of view, you saw the slightly bloodshot and bleary eyes, widened with panic and fear. For Tom he saw the floods of tears down your cheeks, which you hadn’t even noticed were freely streaming.

But in that moment there was, at least, the slightest bit of peace. The slightest bit of hope - that he could explain, that he had some ludicrous but valid reason for the situation you had walked in on. Just a smidgen of hope that this were recoverable.

But then he had to open his bloody mouth.

“Y/n I swear nothing-“

“That didn’t look like fucking nothing!”

“It was I swear! We just-“

“Tom this is your one and only chance. I don’t care if your off your face, if you don’t give my a miracle of a reason as to what the fuck THAT was - then I’m gone.”

“Don’t say that Y/n, you don’t mean th-“ He tried to grab your hand which you snatched away, like you had just scalded it on a hot plate. Like he had hurt you.

“I swear to god I’ve never meant anything more. So cut the shit.”

“FIne-fine! Um so we were at the meeting and then on the way out I bumped into George and hes been a good mate of mine for years.” All you did was hum, arms crossed and making sure you had a metre of distance between the two of you.

“So he said god you look like you need a drink and I agreed because its been stressful as hell recently.”

“Oh its been stressful; for YOU has it? I’m so sorry Thomas, has it been hard for you while i’ve been throwing my lungs up with morning sickness? Has it been stressful that I’ve been running on zero hours sleep because she kicks me all bloody night? ” Your words were laced in a posioned sarcasm, to which Tom just stammered to.

“Please just let me.” Given he was supposed to be fighting for you, he sounded pretty darn defeated already.

“I said yes to the drink.” He skipped out the bit that had angered you, to which you rolled your eyes at. “And one turned into two and more and then I don’t know-“

“Your going to have to try a lot harder than that.” You deadpanned, taking a small step further back still.

“I mean it! The girls were all his friends and we were just talking.”

“Just talking? All pressed up and arms round her?”

“Yes!” As indignant as he retorted, it didn’t not make up for what you had seen with your own eyes.

“Your such a bullshitter Tom!”

“God why wont you just listen to me?” He cried, wobbly doing a little 360 on the spot, in what appeared to be exasperation.

“Because your just spouting fucking lies! And you try and blame it all on poor little tommo being stressed which is-“

“I HAVE BEEN! Running round after you! I’m just tired of this shit!!! So kill me, for having one night of freedom!”

Tom was too deep in his angry lecture to take any notice of you. Which is why, once finished, he waitied, breath heavy and nose flaring. He was waiting for you to scream back at him. To give it back. He was too drunk to notice the change in your demeanor.

“I’m tired of this shit.”

It was just reverberating round your head. Again and again and again. He was tired of your relationship and you hadn’t even become parents yet. He was at his wits-end and the baby was still unborn. What the fuck was going to happen when baby arrived? Clearly there was no hope. It was dead. Your relationship was dead with no chance of revival.

Because he’d said it. Your relationship was shit, and nobody can put up with something they hate for that long. Not 18 years. Not while bringing up a child.

So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.

“Don’t follow me.”

Not now, not ever.

?to be continued?

~~~~~~~~~~gahhhh I hope u enjoyed! I also REALLY CANNOT THINK OF A NAME FOR THIS MINISERIES --> if anyone can think of something pls inbox me!!! ~~~~~~~~

tom taglist: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @Ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Two (Harry Styles)

a/n: you guys thank you so much for all the love you’ve showed part one!! 🥺 im so happy you like the story! i wanted to post part two a little later, in the weekend but i got so happy for all the reactions that i decided to move it earlier so here it is! i’ll try to update soon, the longest it will take is one week probably. im working on my thesis and have a lot of school work so please be patient with me! feedback is very much welcomed, as always, your reactions and comments mean so much to me!!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 10.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

Pulling Izzy out of daycare dramatically lessened the amount of time she could spend with her friends, so the situation needs extra attention on her socializing. You’ve been trying to take her to the park as much as possible so she could meet with kids her age and Harry has been arranging a lot of playdates for her with her friends from daycare.

When you come back from meeting your brother for lunch on a Sunday, you are greeted with not two, but eight little feet running around the living room, many of Izzy’s toys have been brought downstairs and the coffee table is filled with fruits, snacks and drinks for the kids. You know the two little guests, it’s Yara and Zac, the three of them were like a little gang back when Izzy was attending daycare. Yara’s moms and Zac’s mom are sitting on the terrace, letting the kids roam around freely, Harry is in the kitchen preparing some sandwiches for the guests when you arrive back.

“Hi, do you need help with anything?” you ask, catching his attention.

“Oh, hi! No I’m fine, thank you. How was lunch with your brother?”

“Great,” you smile at him before leaving him to do whatever he has to do.

“Miss Y/N!” Yara greets you, waving in your way while munching on an apple slice.

“Hello Yara, Zac,” you smile at them before walking out to the terrace to greet the parents. “Hi! Ava, Saige, it’s nice to see you again. And Linda, hello!”

“Y/N, hi! Harry told us you might return soon, so good to see you!” Ava greets you as you join them at the table. They’ve been the nicest parents while you were working at the daycare, though you weren’t the only victim of the closed-minded cowards that got you fired. Ava and Saige have faced quite a lot of backlash for basically daring to be a same-sex couple out in the open. You’ve heard many complaints from other parents about how they don’t want them to pick up their daughter together. Apparently, it’s confusing for the kids to see two women to be the mothers of the same child. Ridiculous.

“I was out having lunch with my brother. How have you been?”

“Things are the same, you know,” Saige shrugs with a scowl. “But your firing has got us thinking about pulling Yara out as well.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, it’s starting to get really ridiculous. I mean it’s one thing that we get weird looks, but firing you was kind of the last straw,” Ava nods.

“And how have you been here, Y/N? How is working for Harry?” Linda asks.

“Oh, it’s amazing, really. I love taking care of Izzy, she is so easy to handle and I love seeing her learn and grow. And Harry is a great boss, I got really lucky.”

“Lucky indeed!” Ava smirks, making them all laugh as you feel yourself blushing. “Even I sometimes dream about the man,” she adds, keeping her tone down.

“How do you keep your cool?” Linda sighs. “If I had to live with this man, I would go nuts.”

“Well, Izzy keeps me pretty busy, and he is my boss, so…”

“It’s not like HR would be up your ass if you got involved,” Saige shrugs, taking a sip from her iced tea.

You don’t get to react, the kids run out, taking over the playground, Harry arriving right behind them with a plate filled with sandwiches for the guests.

“Ladies, sorry for the wait,” he smiles, placing the food to the table as he joins your little circle.

“Oh Harry, thank you so much!” Ava sighs, grabbing one already. “We were just talking to Y/N about how big of an upgrade it is for her to work here.”

“Is it?” he asks, slightly surprised as he glances over at you.

“I mean, the paycheck is better and it’s clearly a better environment,” you chuckle shrugging.

“I just don’t know why Claire lets those assholes control the place. She is the boss there, she should stand up against them,” Linda scowls.

“She is just trying to avoid confrontation.”

“No, she is afraid they would stop paying the daycare the money, so she is an ass-kisser,” Saige scoffs, making you laugh.

“Well, at least I have Y/N now to take good care of Izzy,” Harry smiles, his eyes meeting yours and you swear your heart skips a beat when he says that he has you.

“Lucky bastard!” Ava throws her hands into the air, making everyone laugh.

Enjoying the company, you stay outside instead of locking yourself up in your room. It’s nice to see the moms occasionally pick on Harry, they surely like to joke about him being a hot single dad, but he usually just blushes and smiles at the compliments. Linda and Zac leave first, then Ava, Saige and Yara head home as well when it’s nearing five in the afternoon. Though Harry tells you to just leave the cleanup for him, you insist on helping.

“Now I feel bad you are working on your day off,” he huffs as you help him around in the kitchen.

“It’s not working,” you roll your eyes. “I live here too, of course I’m gonna help keeping it clean.”

“You know, if your brother ever wants to come over, feel free to invite him.”

“Might take your word, because he is very curious about the place,” you chuckle. Harry smiles as he starts washing the dishes.

“He is welcomed anytime.”

“Thank you.” Putting away the snacks that was left you start drying the dishes while he is washing them, working next to each other in silence. Unlike his usual attire, he is now wearing just a plain white t-shirt with light-washed jeans. “You’re quite the moms’ favorite,” you tease him, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Saige and Ava like to pull my leg, but I know they mean well.”

“They are great people, I always liked them,” you smile glancing at him.

“I remember when I first met them at a parents’ meeting, they spotted how lost I was among all the moms and asked if I wanted to sit with them. Then Izzy became friends with Yara so we met quite a few times.”

“I find it a little funny we never met while I was working at the daycare. Izzy was in my group for almost a year and we just never ran into each other.”

Harry licks his lips before turning his gaze to you, finishing up the dishes and turning the water off.

“I saw you.” Your eyebrows shoot up. How did you not see him?

“Really?”

“Yeah, just a few times. Mostly it was Ruth who picked up Izzy these past few months. I had a huge project that ended just before you started here, so I didn’t have the chance to pick her up that much. But I saw you a few times. You were just always busy with the kids, I guess… you didn’t notice me,” he shrugs, holding his arms on his chest as he leans against the counter.

“It could get pretty intense sometimes even though it was just a daycare,” you chuckle, remembering to all the tantrums and fussy dramas that happened between the kids. Sometimes it felt more like a high school than a daycare, especially when friends were taken and lovestories happened through lunchtimes.

“Daddy! What are we having for dinner?” Izzy runs into the kitchen, tippy-tapping her hands on the counter that she can barely reach.

“Macaroni and cheese.”

“Yes! Maccy cheese!” Izzy cheers throwing her hands into the air. Harry smiles down at her, ruffling her hair and you can’t push down a smile at what she just called mac and cheese.

Harry starts prepping for dinner, he puts on some music that Izzy dances to and though you try to leave them be and enjoy their alone time, Izzy insists you stay and help as well.

“Izzy, let Y/N do what she wants, this is her day off,” Harry warns her, making her pout her lips at you. Not that you would have said no to her, but now you definitely can’t leave.

“It’s alright. I’m happy to help.”

Izzy sits on the counter in a safe distance from the stove, her duty is to watch the pasta cook while Harry takes care of the sauce and you set the table, knowing it won’t take long for the food to be ready.

“Daddy?” Izzy speaks up, tilting her head to the side.

“Yes, baby?”

“I love Maccy cheese. Does mom like it too?”

Harry’s eyes flicker over to you, as if he is embarrassed you caught a moment that shouldn’t have been revealed and you can tell he is still kind of torn how to handle the mentioning of his late wife. You keep a straight face, making yourself busy with cleaning off the counter top. You wouldn’t want to make him think he can’t talk about Maggie in your presence.

“Um, yeah. Mommy loves mac and cheese,” he nods, giving her knees a little squeeze before moving her off the counter to take care of the pasta.

Your eyes meet Harry’s gaze when you bring some water to the table and you can tell he is still thinking about the slip you just heard, but you give him a soft smile, trying your best to assure him nothing bad happened.

Izzy babbles through dinner about everything she did with Yara and Zac today, excited to see them as soon as possible and Harry promises her to arrange a meeting for them in the park sometime next week. You try to help with cleaning up, but Harry doesn’t let you, so pouring yourself a nice glass of wine you sit in the living room to watch some TV before going to bed. After dinner, Harry takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath and once that’s done she is allowed to play some more in her room.

Harry joins you soon on the couch with a glass of wine as well, seemingly tired from all the socializing he did. Peeking at him while the evening news is playing on the screen, you notice that he is not even paying attention, deep in his thoughts he is pulling on his bottom lip like he always does whenever he is deep in focus. You have a guess what he is thinking about, but you want to give him the time and space to figure out if he is ready to share or not.

“I, uhh—I never really told you why it’s just Izzy and I,” he speaks up and you turn to him with patience, knowing the importance of him bringing it up. “My wife… Maggie, she… We got married about six years ago and then two years later we had Izzy. She was six months old when Maggie…”

He is struggling to find the words, or to just even think about it and you don’t want him to feel like he has to tell you about any of it.

“Harry, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to. I always feel bad that I don’t talk about her, makes it look like I’m trying to forget about her, but that’s not at all the case, it’s just… hard to think about how long it’s been and I still feel like it was just… last week.”

Harry sniffles and you’re not sure if it’s because he is getting emotional to the point where he is going to start crying or it’s nothing significant, but you feel the urge to assure him about your support. Reaching over you put your hand to his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes first fall to your hand and then to you, a sense of softness shining back from his green irises as he lets out a shaky breath.

“It was a car accident. She was driving home late night from her sister’s and a drunk driver ran the red light, crashed right into her car. They both were rushed into hospital, but Maggie’s lungs collapsed and she… they couldn’t help her. The guy had surgery and though he broke quite a few bones and had a serious concussion, he survived.”

You have to bite into your bottom lip, already feeling the tears welling in your eyes, but you quickly blink them away. You can only imagine what it’s like to be called and find out your wife was killed because of the dumb mistake of someone else. And to think that Izzy was still so small, Harry was left with a baby and the immense grief so suddenly, it must have been the toughest time he had to go through.

“I’m really sorry, Harry,” you quietly tell him, his eyes flickering up to meet yours and they are glistening from the tears. He just nods, blinking a few times before drinking up his wine.

Before anything else could be said, you hear Izzy running down the stairs, soon throwing herself to the couch, cuddling to Harry’s side.

“Hey baby, want to go to sleep already?” he asks, softly brushing through her hair with his fingers. Izzy nods, blinking sleepily. Harry scoops her into his arms standing up from the couch and he is reaching for his empty glass, but you take it before he could.

“I’ll wash it, don’t worry about it,” you smile at him.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, holding Izzy tight before the two of them disappear upstairs.

You don’t stay out too long yourself either, washing the glasses you let a single tear run down your cheek before quickly wiping it away and heading up to your room.

The past two years you’ve been taking gigs as a photographer more and more, going to weddings, birthday parties, baby showers or anniversaries to snap photos of others’ most precious moments. You are not a professional, nor do you treat yourself as one, but the more events you attended and the more work you put out, the more popular you started to get. Now you have about two bookings every month and you are able to ask for a quite impressive amount of money for a session that people are willing to pay for your pictures.

You’ve been putting off your gigs since you moved into the Styles mansion, wanting to focus on all the changes in your lives, but now that you’ve gotten quite used to your new life one month into it, you are getting back to your usual. This Saturday you’re doing a photoshoot of a soon-to-be-wedded pair who also booked you for their upcoming wedding in a few weeks. It’s kind of an engagement photoshoot since they couldn’t do one when they got engaged months ago, but they didn’t want to miss out on the chance to do one before they official tie the knot.

Harry and Izzy are planning to go to the zoo today, something she’s been begging to do for weeks now and Harry finally gave in, so all three of you are going to be quite busy today. The photoshoot takes place at this fancy, mid-century styled café the couple chose, so you decide to dress up yourself a little too. Putting on a maroon colored pencil skirt that hugs your hips and waist tight, you tuck into it a white silky blouse, making you appear like some kind of eyecandy assistant straight out of a Hollywood movie, especially with your low bun, which is less for the look but more for practicality, since you don’t like it when your hair gets caught in the straps of your camera.

Swinging your camera bag to one shoulder and your handbag to the other one, your camera hanging from your neck, you head downstairs, rushing a little because you’re short on time already. Izzy is sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen island while Harry is packing them some lunch and snacks for the day.

“Oh! Y/N, you look so pretty!” Izzy beams at you when you near the corner. She is dangling her legs playfully, her piggy tails curling adorably on each sides of her head. Harry’s head snaps up and his lips part upon spotting you.

“Thank you, Sunshine,” you smile at her, caressing her cheek, tickling her a little that makes her giggle.

“Where are you going?” she asks curiously.

“Izzy, don’t question her all the time, that’s not too nice,” Harry warns her, but you just shake your head.

“It’s alright. I have a photoshoot today. I have to take pictures of a couple that’s going to get married soon,” you explain to her and Harry’s ears perk up, eyeing the camera that’s hanging from your neck.

“I didn’t know you are a photographer,” Harry hums, closing the cooler.

“Well, I’m not a professional, but I’ve been doing photoshoots here and there.”

“That’s amazing!” he smiles warmly.

“Thanks. Well, I gotta go because I’m running a little late. Have fun at the zoo!” you smile, at them before walking out. You reach the front door but stop for a moment to read the text the bride has sent you letting you know they are running a little late as well. That’s when you hear the conversation between Harry and Izzy coming from the kitchen.

“She looked so pretty!” Izzy sighs. You expect Harry to just hum or ignore her words, but for your surprise, he answers her.

“Yeah, she really does.”

You blush like a teenage girl, feeling your heart fluttering in your chest as you smile, walking out of the house.

The father-daughter duo is still out when you get home later. You make yourself a tea and sit out to the terrace with your computer, starting to edit the photos right away so you can send then over to the couple as soon as possible. They turned out pretty good, you love the colorful vibe the café had and it went well with the pair’s outfits.

You get so into editing that you don’t even notice Harry and Izzy arriving home, just when the sliding door opens and Izzy runs up to you, holding a stuffed animal that appears to be an otter.

“Y/N, look what daddy got me!” she cheers holding up the toy.

“Oh my god, it’s really cute!” You pull her to sit on your lap as she hugs the toy, clearly happy to have a new addition to her already existing army. Harry walks out with a bottle of water and a glass. Joining the two of you at the table, he pours some water for Izzy and makes her drink it.

“We spent an entire hour watching the otters,” he chuckles, brushing Izzy’s hair out of her face as she chugs the water down.

“Can’t blame you, they are really cute,” you chuckle. Izzy puts the empty glass down and hops off your lap before announcing that she is gonna show her new toy around in the backyard before running away from you.

“Are those… the pictures from today?” Harry shyly asks, eyeing your laptop’s screen.

“Oh, yeah. Wanted to get a headstart on editing,” you nod turning it so he can have a better look. “Want to see what I got so far?”

“Of course!” he nods smiling.

You click through the photos you’ve already edited, there are about ten in total and you’re quite satisfied with how they turned out to be.

“Wow, they look… really good, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you smile blushing a little.

“What events do you usually do?”

“Mostly weddings and engagement shoots, birthdays, these kinds of stuff.”

“It’s really amazing,” he nods smiling.

“I… Hope you won’t be mad but I’ve shot a few pictures of Izzy too these past weeks,” you admit, hoping he won’t get upset for you, doing it without his permission. “I didn’t use them anywhere, I wasn’t planning to, I just thought they were nice moments.”

“Oh, can I see them?”

“Of course!”

Opening up the folder you put her pictures into, you start clicking through the few photos you took of her. There’s one of her during her swimming lesson, laughing happily as she holds onto the edge of the pool, her wet locks sticking to her head. Then there’s one when the two of you were baking cupcakes and she got icing all over her face and tried to lick it off, her tongue sticking out on the picture. There are some of her just roaming around the backyard, exploring the bugs hiding in the grass, some of her napping with her favorite stuffed animals on the couch and then the last one was taken when she was jumping in her bed, you caught her up in the air, the widest smile on her face as she was laughing straight into the camera.

“Y/N, these are… wow. They are all so good, I love them!”

“Really?” Your smile grows wide, happy that he likes them.

“Yeah! Do you think… do you think you can send them to me?”

“Of course! I can get them printed for you, if you’d like. There’s a place where I go to get my photos printed, they make them look like they were taken on an analog, old school camera, I love that little extra touch on the pictures.”

“That would be fantastic,” he smiles, clearly in awe of your work.

You spend the rest of the afternoon editing while Harry and Izzy take over the kitchen as usual. When you’re on your way up to your room with your laptop after you decided to call it a day, you catch them in there, Izzy making Harry dance around with her while they are chopping the veggies. Harry is swaying his lips to the rhythm, humming to the song as Izzy is jumping and twirling around, singing from the top of her lungs. Despite the terrible loss of her mother, there’s no doubt Izzy is having the best possible childhood, getting all the love she deserves from her dad and you feel happy you are here to witness them grow together.

You did not see your parents’ divorce coming, probably because it’s been over six years since you’ve moved out and you only saw them every other week at best. You always tried to come around as often as possible, wanting to spend time with Trevor and of course, them as well, but you had to focus on building your own life. You had to worry about your work, your own living space and not much later you started dating Keith so you were pretty busy to say the least. You weren’t there when things started to go downhill, but Trevor was. He had to suffer through every fight and screaming match they had without any support and you’ve always felt guilty about it, but you couldn’t just move back home. However you’ve always tried to do everything you could to support him through these hard times. He knew he could call you anytime he had enough of the spiteful atmosphere at home and you were quick to come to his rescue.

You were mad at your parents, there’s no need to lie about it. But not because of getting a divorce, you knew better than to expect them to suffer in a marriage they weren’t happy in, but the way they handled has always been just… unacceptable. Especially because in the midst of their anger and hatred towards each other they started to forget that they still had a kid living home who had to listen to everything they threw at each other, things no son should ever hear about his parents, no matter if they were true or not.

Being a teenager in high school is stressful enough as it is, but having to deal with your parents’ nasty divorce is just something no teenager should have to go through. Trevor has been dealing with it for a while now and he is trying his best to just shut them out whenever they are going at it, but sometimes it’s not that easy. That’s when he seeks comfort at you.

It’s a Thursday evening when your parents decide to drive Trevor up the wall with their screaming and fighting again. You’re watching a movie with Izzy and Harry in the entertainment room, working on your laptop simultaneously, confirming some photoshoots for the upcoming weekends. Harry has let Izzy play with his hair while watching the movie, so now she is all over her daddy, decorating his hair with little hairclips and hair ties while the man is just sitting there without a complaint.

Your phone starts buzzing on the couch and Trevor’s photo is flashing on the screen. Putting the laptop aside, you grab your phone and walk out of the room not to disturb them with your call.

“Hey!” you greet him happily, but your stomach immediately drops when you hear him draw a shaky breath on the other end of the line. “Trev? What’s wrong?”

“Can I please spend the night at yours?” he pleads weakly.

“What happened, are you alright?” you perk up right away.

“It’s just… dad came over this afternoon and they went at it again and now they are doing it over the phone, mom is like really out of her mind right now. I have a math test tomorrow and I don’t think I can sleep here like this. She is still screaming at him over the phone.”

“I’m leaving right now, pack a bag, alright?”

“Thanks,” he breathes out and ends the call. Rushing back into the entertainment room Harry turns to you while Izzy is still busy with his hair.

“Uh, I know it’s really sudden and all, but my brother just called, would it be fine if he spent the night over here?” Even though Harry himself told you it’s fine to have people over, you still feel like you need to ask for his permission, especially if your guest is planning to stay the night.

“Is he alright? Of course he can come over.” Sitting straight up he asks Izzy to sit down a little which she gladly does, turning her attention towards the movie.

“It’s just, um, our parents are having another scream match. They are… They are in the middle of getting a divorce and they are not handling it right,” you let out a bitter chuckle.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. Do you need me to come with you? You seem very upset, you sure you can drive?”

“No, it’s alright, but thanks. I’m fine. I’ll be back soon with him and thank you so much for letting him stay,” you breathe out. He just nods with a sympathetic smile before you turn around and leave.

Through the drive over to the house where you grew up your anger just grows with each turn you take. You love your parents to death, they raised you in a quite unusual and hard situation, they had to grow up with you when they had you so young, but they always made sure to give you everything you needed. And you know they have the same kind of love towards Trevor, but their hatred for each other is blinding them and they probably don’t even realize how much it affects him, but you are not letting them ruin everything because they fell out of love. Trevor deserves the same kind of supportive and loving environment to grow up in just like the one you had and there’s nothing that could change that.

Pulling up to the driveway you take a deep breath as you march up to the front porch and use your keys to let yourself in. The shouting hits your ears right away, it’s coming from the kitchen, but Trevor is the first one you spot on the top of the stairs. His hood is on and he has a backpack in his hands as he comes down the stairs with a pained and tired face.

“Hey! Left the car open, go get in there, I’ll be out in a minute,” you softly tell him as you give him a quick hug.

“Thanks,” he mumbles before walking out.

Following your mother’s voice to the kitchen you find her with a half empty bottle of wine, cussing your father out through the phone.

“Go and fuck that bitch you went out to have dinner with last weekend! Yes I know about that!” she spats and you wince at her words.

“Mom!” you call out, but she doesn’t even register your voice.

“Fuck you, Fred! Fuck you!” she continues, so you raise your voice a little more.

“Mom!” This time she finally hears it and turning around she looks at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? You didn’t say you were coming,” she adds, her voice soft and weak this time, the anger long gone from it.

“I’m here to pick Trevor up. Put dad on speaker, I want to have a word with you two,” you tell her firmly and she gulps hard, nodding as she sets the phone to the counter, putting your dad on speaker.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” you hear him question from the other end of the line.

“I could ask the same thing!” you snap back, fed up with the way they have been acting. They might have lost a good chunk of their youth because they were busy taking care of you after having at just nineteen, but that doesn’t give them the right to act like literal cavemen in front of your brother.

“Trevor called me all upset, begging me to come and get him. What is wrong with you two? You have been at each other’s throats all the damn time, it is not healthy not just for Trevor but to either of you!”

“Y/N, sweetie, there’s just a lot going on—“ your mother tries to explain, but you cut her off.

“I don’t fucking care! Whatever is going on between the two of you, Trevor should be first! No matter what! He needs you both, he needs the support and love, but he is only getting the screaming and fighting. This is not right!”

“It’s a hard situation, you have to be patient with us, Y/N,” your father sighs over the phone and you can’t hold your ironic laughter back.

“Patient? I’ve been patient with you these past about five months since you’ve been literally tearing each other to pieces. Do yourselves and everyone else a favor and just get it over with. Dad, pick up all your stuff and don’t come here for mom’s sake. Mom, don’t snoop around dad’s life, because it’s not your business anymore. Stop being ignorant and maybe start to think about the kid you still have living near you.”

Your words might have been harsh, but it needed to be said. You can tell by your mother’s shocked expression and from the way your dad is dead silent in the call that your message finally hit them in the head and you hope they are willing to get their shit together so Trevor doesn’t lose his mind.

“Trevor is staying with me tonight, we’ll see when he wants to come back, but you better think about what I just told you,” you warn them before walking out and leaving them to think about their actions finally.

Trevor stays silent on the road back to Harry’s and you don’t try to force him to talk, it’s clear he has had enough for today. Arriving back home you park your car next to Harry’s Range Rover and the two of you walk inside in silence.

It’s past Izzy’s bedtime so you’re not surprised to find only Harry in the kitchen when you walk into the house. Harry seems cautious, almost worried as he spots you and Trevor in the hallway.

“Trevor, this is my boss, Harry. Harry, this is my brother, Trevor,” you introduce them to each other quickly. They shake hands with a manly nod.

“Thanks for letting me stay here tonight,” Trevor clears his throat, feeling a little out of place.

“No worries. Feel free to use any of the guest bedrooms,” Harry smiles softly.

“Oh, we’ll be fine sleeping in my room,” you assure him but Harry shakes his head at your words.

“We have plenty of space. Please, use them!”

“Thank you,” Trevor mumbles and you shoot Harry a thankful look before walking your brother upstairs.

You opt for the room next to yours, Help Trevor get comfortable, making sure he has everything he needs for the night.

“Did you get into a fight with mom and dad?” he asks, when you are sitting on the edge of his bed, about to leave him alone.

“I just told them to get their shit together,” you chuckle, giving his leg a squeeze under the covers. He cracks a smile at you, but it’s not as genuine as it should be. “I’ll drive you to school in the morning. My room is right next to this one, come over if you need anything, alright?”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, pulling the covers up to his chin.

“Good night, Trev,”you tell him switching the lights off and walking towards the door.

“Good night, Y/N,” he calls after you before you close the door, letting out a long breath.

As you make your way down to the kitchen you see that Harry is still there, his eyes snap up to you, filled with concern and worry.

“Everything alright?” he asks as you make yourself a tea.

“Yeah, he was just fed up with the constant screaming. I can’t blame him, my mother didn’t even realize I was there until I raised my voice at her.”

“I’m sorry about that. Must be hard dealing with high school and a nasty divorce.”

“It is,” you sigh. “But thank you for letting him stay, really.” “I meant it when I said it’s just as much your home as it is ours. He can come over anytime, don’t worry about that,” he shrugs.

“Thank you. I’ll drive him to school in the morning, but I’ll be back by the time you leave, is that alright?”

“Of course,” he smiles warmly. “You two look a lot alike.”

“We get that a lot,” you chuckle. “It’s the eyes and nose shape, I think. We got those from our mother.”

“People say I look like my sister too, but I don’t really see it, if I’m being honest,” he chuckles lightly.

“Yeah? Why?”

“No idea,” he shakes his head laughing. “I just don’t see it, but I couldn’t tell you really.”

Sipping on your tea you stay in the kitchen with Harry, the light conversation about his sister and eventually his mother eases the stress that has been gripping on your chest from the encounter you had with your parents earlier. You’re not sure if he tried to talk you through it because he saw how much you needed the distraction or if it’s just how he is, but either way, he really helped you to relax.

Cleaning after yourself the two of you head to bed, saying good night to each other before disappearing in your rooms.

“This place is like… really huge,” Trevor sighs in awe when the two of you are eating breakfast together the next morning.

“I told you, it’s a mansion,” you chuckle, digging into your oatmeal. “I’ll show you around next time you’re here.”

“T’was nice of Harry to let me stay,” he hums.

“Mhm, he is a cool boss,” you smile at him.

“And kinda handsome…” Glancing at Trevor you see the sly smirk on his lips and you give him a stern look.

“Stop right there, alright? No funny thoughts!”

“Funny thoughts?” he laughs leaning back in his seat. “I just made a statement that he is a nice looking man, that’s it. Do you not agree?”

“I’m not commenting on the topic,” you diplomatically answer.

“On what topic?” Harry appears from the stairs, making you both turn his way. “Good morning,” he smiles warmly.

“Morning!” Trevor nods his way before he turns back to you, still smirking. You narrow your eyes at him before answering Harry.

“The topic doesn’t matter. Morning, Harry!”

He pours himself some coffee that you brew earlier before joining the two of you at the dining table. He strikes up a conversation with Trevor, asking him about school and his future plans once he graduates and luckily, Trevor is on his best behavior despite the comment he made earlier, he is not trying to put you into an uncomfortable situation. He knows better, because if he upsets you now, he will not be returning to the mansion, that’s for sure.

“Alright, get your stuff, we are leaving in five,” you tell him when both of you are done eating. Nodding he disappears upstairs as you take care of the dishes quickly.

“Is he staying tonight as well?” Harry asks, following you into the kitchen.

“Oh, no. I’m sure mom wants to talk to him after last night, so it’s better if he goes home.”

“Hope things will get easier for him,” he smiles and you return it, thankful that he let him stay here when he really needed a place for himself.

“Thanks for everything, Harry” Trevor smiles at him when he arrives with his backpack.

“Of course, come back soon, but under more peaceful conditions,” he chuckles nodding in his way.

“I’ll be back soon!” you call out before walking out of the house with your brother.

“So how long have you been crushing on your boss?” Trevor asks in the car and your eyes widen as you try to keep the car straight in the lane.

“Excuse you?”

“Come on, Y/N. It’s kinda obvious, you swoon at everything the man says, haven’t seen you this soft since your high school graduation,” he chuckles, finding your reaction quite entertaining, but you’re not enjoying the situation that much.

“I do not have a crush on Harry,” you shake your head laughing, but you can’t ignore the knot in your stomach at your own words. Was this that big of a lie?

“That’s too bad because I think he has a thing for you too,” he shrugs, carelessly staring out the window, like it’s that casual to discuss you and your boss having possible feelings for each other.

“When did you become an expert on these stuff?” you huff, glancing at him shortly before turning back to face the road.

“I’m not an expert, but I’m not blind either. And I saw the way he looked at you.”

“What way?” you scoff.

“Like he is thankful you are walking this Earth.”

“Did you take this from a rom-com on Netflix?” you tease him, but he just shrugs. “Of course he is thankful, I’m helping him with his daughter. It’s not easy being a single parent and I’m helping him immensely. But there’s nothing else behind that.”

“Sure, good luck convincing yourself,” he sighs when you park the car down at his school. “Thanks for the ride and the night too. I’ll call you later.”

Leaning over the console he gives you a quick hug before hopping out of the car and walking towards the main building.

Arriving back home you find Izzy sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal on her lap, watching her favorite morning cartoon, but no sign of Harry and for a moment you get scared you got back too late, but then you realize he wouldn’t leave Izzy home alone.

“Hey Sunshine, did you sleep well?” you ask, caressing her rosy cheek as you join her on the couch.

“Mhm, what are we doing today?” she asks, showing a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

“You have French class today with Lyon and in the afternoon I thought we could learn about otters. You seemed to like them a lot at the zoo.”

“Yes! They are so cute!” she cheers happily just when you hear footsteps coming from the stairs. Turning around you spot Harry walking towards the living room, but your lips part immediately when you see that he is putting on another shirt, his naked chest on display since he hasn’t buttoned it fully. What you saw not long ago from your balcony is now so much closer, the swallows peeking out from under the shirt and you see the little cross pendant hanging between his pecs, something you’ve only seen if he pulled it out of his shirts which didn’t happen that often.

Harry stops in his tracks when he sees you on the couch with Izzy and a blush paints his cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know you were back,” he breathes out, his fingers working fast on the buttons to get himself presentable again though you wish he would just get rid of the whole thing… “Izzy spilled some juice on me so I had to change quickly,” he explains, finishing with the buttons and he quickly fixes it so he looks just as spotless as always.

“You poured too much into my cup!” Izzy defends herself furrowing her eyebrows at her dad.

“Of course it was my fault, who else’s would have it been?” Harry huffs as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Y/N, I have something to ask you.”

“Go ahead.”

“I know it’s pretty sudden and on a very short notice but could you maybe look after Izzy tonight? Niall called me and begged to meet up with him for a few drinks. I would call Ruth, but she is out of town this week.”

“Oh sure! No problem,” you smile at him.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything to do? Don’t feel pressured to say yes, I should have asked in advance, it’s just—“ “Harry, it’s fine. I’m okay looking after her tonight,” you assure him before he talks himself down from letting you do it. “Go have fun, you barely get out of the house without Izzy.” If you’re being honest the only place he goes to without his daughter is work and it’s a little saddening, he deserves some time out from his daddy duties.

“Thank you,” he smiles at you with gratitude. “I won’t be out too long, I promise.”

“No worries, have fun with Niall,” you wave in dismiss.

“Thanks. Have a great day. Be good, baby. I’ll see you in the afternoon.” Harry kisses Izzy’s forehead before grabbing his suit jacket, wallet, keys and phone and heads out to start his day.

“Alright, daddy is off to work and we also have a day ahead of us. Come on, let’s get started,” you smile at Izzy who nods in agreement.

Harry swears he didn’t come home earlier than his usual because he feels bad for asking you to cover the evening, but you know that’s a blatant lie. He is home by three and frees you for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you with about two extra hours. He informs you that he would be leaving around seven, so dinner time will still be his duty, but you’ll have to put Izzy to bed at her usual time, which works perfectly for you.

A little before seven Harry disappears to take a quick shower and get changed before heading out, while you sit out in the living room with Izzy, reading her from a book she chose after dinner.

When Harry returns, he is dressed more casually than he usually does for work, wearing a pair of beige slacks and a black shirt tucked into it, the first three buttons left undone, showing just a hint of his tattooed chest for the viewers.

“Okay, I just called a car, it’ll be here any minute. Please call me if anything happens, I could come home anytime.”

“Harry, I take care of her all day, I’m sure we’ll be fine for one evening as well,” you chuckle, trying to ease his nervousness about leaving his daughter home at a time he is not used to.

“Right,” he lets out a soft chuckle. “Thank you again. And Izzy, be good. Y/N will put you to bed tonight, but I’ll be here in the morning, okay?”

“Okay!” she sings, completely fine with the new arrangement.

“Alright, see you soon, good night!” he calls out on his way out of the house.

Sitting at the rooftop bar, Harry and Niall take up a small table for two near the railing so they have a nice view of the city below them. The waitress brings their order, tequila on the rocks for Harry and a good pint for Niall, and the latter man can’t ignore the fact how pretty she is in her tight white shirt and short black skirt, smiling coyly at the men as she asks if they want anything else.

“We’re good for now, Darling. Thank yeh,” Niall smirks and even winks at the woman, who is seemingly enjoying the attention from him, but deep down she would be happier if it was Harry who was trying to flirt with him. However he is busy on his phone, typing out an email even at this ungodly hour, which pisses his friend off.

“Would you stop being a workaholic prick and maybe glance at the woman that wants to fuck the shit out of you?” Niall snaps at him, grabbing his attention, but he just rolls his eyes.

“That would require my interest as well, which is not there.”

“That’s fucking sad. Really, mate. How long are you going to act like a crybaby? I’m getting tired of your long face. I get it, shit happened, but you eventually have to move on.”

Harry tries to ignore his words, eyes glued to the screen of his phone hoping his friend would just drop it, but that’s not what Niall is like. So instead of leaving him to be, he grabs his phone, snaps it right out of his hands and then shoves it into his pocket.

“Hey! What the fuck?!” he growls at his friend who just gives him a hard look.

“Harry, I’m worried about you. You do nothing, just work and be with Izzy.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t spend time with my daughter?” he asks twisting his words.

“You know that’s not what I mean. Spend as much time with her as possible, but don’t forget to take care of yourself.”

“I’m taking care of myself. I sleep and eat well and I workout regularly. I don’t see what else I might need.” “Fuck. You need to fuck,” he points out, making Harry roll his eyes again.

“You know, sometimes I question why we are even friends…” Harry grumbles under his breath as he takes a sip from his drink, feeling like he definitely needs the alcohol if Niall is gonna pick on him all night.

“Because I’m the one who pushes you out of your pit of sorrow, m’friend. And right now I feel like I need to step in, because you are turning into a bitter old man.”

“I’m not bitter,” Harry narrows his eyes at him.

“And neither are you old, so why are you acting like you are?”

“Look, I know that you are a fan of the bachelor life, going to parties, sleeping around with any woman you can get, but that’s just not for me, it never was, not even a long time ago.”

“I’m not trying to get you to act like a frat boy, Har. I know you are too soft for that, but I think it might be time for you to, I don’t know, open up a bit.”

“Open up?”

“Yeah! Go out, meet new people, preferably women,” he adds with a knowing look. “It’s been more than three years, Harry. You can’t stay at home and mope around forever.”

“I really don’t think we should be having this conversation right now.”

“If not now, then when? I tried to talk to you about it many times, but you always just dodged it, so I gave you more time to adjust to the situation, but I think we are over that,” Niall sighs, leaning onto the table. “We both know time flies by. Soon Izzy will go to school, she’ll have her own little life and before you could even blink twice, she is gonna be a teenager, barely talking to you, only caring about some boyband, her friends and shows. The time will come when you’ll have to step back a little and I don’t want you to stay alone.”

“First of all, Izzy is 4 and she won’t be allowed to even think about being independent until she is twenty,” Harry starts off as Niall rolls his eyes at him.

“Yeah, sure. You’ll have an amazing time when she becomes a teenager.”

“Don’t even talk about her being a teenager.”

“It’s going to happen!” Niall snaps and Harry narrows his eyes at him. “Okay, let’s just calm down.” He takes a deep breath even though he is the only one getting mad right now. Harry might feel uncomfortable, but he is not one to lose his temper that easily. Niall on the other hand is known to be a little too passionate at times.

“Alright. Please know that I’m just trying to be a good friend. What happened is tragic and I can’t even imagine what you went through, though I was here all along so I have a slight guess. I’m happy that you are doing vehemently better now, it’s amazing, but I know that you’ll be miserable if you stay single forever.”

“I’m not gonna start dating, Niall. It’s just… too soon. I can’t get into a relationship now.” Harry shakes his head, gulping from his drink again, the alcohol burns down his throat as he grimaces shortly.

“I get it that you don’t want a relationship, but dating might not be that bad. I’m pretty sure there are some hot single moms you know who would love to go out with you for dinner or some shit.”

“I’m not interested in any of them,” he shrugs.

“Then what about Y/N?” Harry’s eyes snap up at his friend, flexing his jaw out of instinct.

“What about her?”

“She is pretty, nice and funny, completely your type. Why don’t you try it with her?”

“She works for me,” Harry replies right away.

“No one fucking cares,” Niall scoffs. “And because you didn’t say that you don’t like her, I assume you are into her.”

Harry lets out a heavy sighs shaking his head. You’ve not been the only one who’s been noticing the other. Ever since he has caught you watching him while doing his morning yoga, he couldn’t shake the thought of you and he took a special notice about a lot of things about you. Like the way you scrunch your nose every time you smile when Izzy says a word wrong, or the way you like to put up your hair into a ponytail when you’re playing with her in the backyard and there’s always a tiny strand that hangs lose at the back of your neck because it’s too short to reach up to the ponytail, but his favorite thing is how your voice is a little hoarse in the morning when you come down for the first time from upstairs. The thought that he is always the first person you talk to in the morning just brings this pleasant feeling into the pit of his stomach, something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

He can’t deny that he finds you beautiful either, how could he not? You’re just a wonderful person inside and out and he is thankful his daughter is in such good hands when he is away at work. But he hasn’t dared to think further than this, his mind just doesn’t let him, however Niall’s words are now poking at the sleeping giant.

“Stop assuming things,” Harry mumbles, looking away from his friend, feeling like he is being grilled.

“Stop denying things,” Niall retorts, earning a huff from Harry. “Okay, don’t ask her out just yet, but try to get closer to her. Become friends, try to open up and get to know her a little more!”

“I don’t want to get closer to her!” he replies, but he can easily point out how big of a lie that is, even though he is trying his best to make himself believe that it’s not.

“So you don’t have a crush on her?” Niall raises his eyebrows at him.

“Where are we, in middle school? I’m 31, I don’t have crushes,” Harry scoffs.

“Okay so then you don’t mind it if I ask her out?”

“You are not asking her out, Niall,” he sternly replies, reaching for his drink once again, that’s nearing its end very closely. He needs to order another one if Niall decides to be an asshole all night.

“Why not? He seemed to like me when we met, I think we both would have a nice evening, might even take her home—“

“Shut up, Niall. You are not going out with her!”

“Really? What’s stopping me?” he smirks, knowing well what he is doing and where this is heading. Harry opens his mouth, but then no words come out, because he realizes what he wanted to say should not be said out loud.

Because I like her, a tiny voice tells him in his mind. Niall’s smirk grows even bigger, because even though Harry didn’t answer, his face tells it all, confirming what he has been trying to force out of him all evening.

“Yeah, just as I thought,” he laughs, taking a few gulps from his beer. “I’m not telling you to fuck her brains out immediately, but it might be nice if you just got to know her a bit more. And if things seem to take, like… a turn, if you know what I mean, don’t chicken out, just go with it.”

“You know, Niall, you should worry about your own love life the way you worry about mine.”

“There’s nothing to worry about!” He beams, clearly without a worry. “I’m too good of a catch to be tied down, so I’m enjoying life to the fullest right now.”

“Aren’t you tired of waking up next to a different woman every morning?” Harry sighs, feeling exhausted just to think about the way his friend lives.

“Don’t judge for something you never tried. I like it, it fulfills all my needs, why should I change?”

“Because you worry about me ending up alone when it’s most likely gonna be you.” Harry gives him a look, but it doesn’t seem to affect him. He shrugs it off easily.

“Difference is that I like being alone, but you don’t. You are wired to have a partner in the long run while I’m perfectly fine with my adventures. So do me a favor, and be less of a little hermit. You’ll thank me later.”

Niall’s words stick to Harry’s head more than he would have liked it. The two friends stay at the bar until about midnight and while Harry leaves to go straight home, Niall heads to another direction with the pretty waitress on his arm, who served their drinks relentlessly all night.

Arriving back home Harry tips the driver generously before heading inside, seeing that you’re still up, the lights in the living room and the TV illuminating the area. Walking further inside he spots you cozied up on the couch, a thick blanket thrown over yourself as you watch some kind of detective documentary, chewing on your bottom lip in focus. He can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips at the sight of you, taking just a split second to savor the moment and wrap it up in his mind.

“Hey, why are you still up?” he questions walking inside. Your eyes tear away from the screen, blinking up at him as you smile slightly, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Rounding the couch Harry joins you, sitting down as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Got caught up a little,” you chuckle, nodding your head towards the TV. “Did you have a good time?”

“As much as it’s possible to have a good time with Niall around,” he chuckles, making you smile.

“He is not that bad, is he?”

“He can be a little asshole sometimes,” he admits. “But it was fine, we had a nice… talk.”

“I’m glad,” you smile sheepishly, before turning back to the TV.

Harry’s eyes snap to the screen as well, but he is not following the case at all, his mind is busy thinking about everything Niall has told him.

It really has been three long and torturous years without his beloved wife and just as Niall said, the beginning of this time was almost lethal. He never thought there would be a day when he would wake up and not feel like curling up into a ball and just cry all day. Those times are now gone, because with a lot of help from his friends, family and even a therapist, he was able to find his purpose in life again: his daughter.

Harry knows that his friend is right, he can’t live his life on his own, that’s just not how he is built, but it’s not as easy as it seems. Especially with the haunting thoughts he has been harboring, kept away from everyone in his life, because he has always been too afraid to say them out loud. That would make them become even realer than they already feel to him.

Sitting on the couch next to Harry you glance at him for a second and can almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Everything alright?” you softly ask. His green eyes flicker over to you, as if he is debating whether he should talk or not.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you nod.

“But it’s kind of personal.”

“Okay, then ask and I’ll decide if I want to answer or not,” you chuckle softly, pushing yourself up a little so you can focus on him better.

“After things ended with your… ex, when you found out that he was cheating on you… How long did it take you to get back out to the field, if you know what I mean.”

His question surprises you, it really is a personal matter and you’re not sure why he felt the need to ask you about it especially now, but you have a guess why it’s relatable for him. You lost someone you loved and though the situation is a very different nature, somehow it’s still similar in a way.

“Well, I told you earlier that it was the kind of situation where I blamed myself for what he did,” you start off and Harry nods, patiently and curiously listening to what you are saying. “I was convinced that he cheated because I wasn’t enough, because I didn’t give him everything he wanted and that it was all my fault. It took me weeks to see clearly and realize that even if I wasn’t giving him everything, it wouldn’t have given him the right to cheat on me. Sometimes it’s really hard to lift the blame off yourself, especially when you were the one putting it there.”

Harry’s lips part at your words and because he is not speaking, you’re not sure if it’s the good or bad kind. You really wish you could just read his honest thoughts, but it seems like he is keeping them to himself so you continue.

“I think it took me a good, like… four months to actually move on. I went on a date for the first time about six months after Keith and I broke up. I’m not saying I’m over the fact that I was cheated on, but it’s not stopping me anymore to live my life. I had to accept that just because of what happened, I still deserve happiness and to be loved.”

Love is a beautiful thing, but it’s very powerful and you learned it the hard way. To love and be loved is essential, love makes life so much better and more special, but it can also scar you terribly and leave you dried out and in pain. You have to learn to accept the love you get and remember it whenever you are not getting enough. It’s a rollercoaster, but the highs make the whole ride worth it.

Harry stays silent as you turn your attention back at the TV, seeing that he is busy chewing on your words. Whatever his reason was to ask you, he is clearly processing the answer he got, making his own conclusions and you wouldn’t want to bother him while he does that.

The documentary soon ends and you realize how late it really is. Saturday is your day off, but you don’t want to sleep through the whole thing, you have a few errands to run. So switching the TV off you fold the blanket and drop it into the basket next to the couch. Harry snaps out of his thoughts when you stand up from the couch, realizing that you’ve shut the TV off already.

“I’m going to bed, you should too,” you smile at him softly as he nods, standing up as well.

You’re already on the stairs when Harry calls out after you. Turning around you keep one foot on the next step, glancing over at him, still standing by the couch.

“I’m… I’m really sorry he couldn’t appreciate you.”

You smile at him warmly, because it says so much about him as a person. Apologizing for something he had absolutely no control over, something someone else did, someone he doesn’t even know. Yet he still felt the need to say sorry.

“It’s alright. I’ll find the person who’ll give me the love I deserve,” you tell him before turning back around and walking away.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[lillywillow]

For Heart or For Country

Summary: “You’re in line to be the next ruler of your kingdom. But first, you must marry the young ruler of your worst enemy. Would you risk all of your happiness for the sake of stopping a war? Or will you find true love in the town’s pub?”

 Word Count: 3089

 Pairings: Natasha x gender neutral Reader/ gender neutral Loki X Reader (arranged)

 Warnings: Seductive Nat, arranged marriage

Written for @caplanbuckybarnes ‘s writing challenge. Go check out her amazing works!

From the moment you were born, you were destined to take over from your father. You spent countless hours in lessons learning how to be ruler of the kingdom, been taught everything from politics to art, sword fighting to etiquette. Long story short, everything you needed to take the throne and face the challenges that came with wearing the crown.

 For years, the kingdom had been at war but recently there was at last a chance for peace but it came with a cost... an arranged marriage. You weren’t so sure about it but if it meant your people being safe, you would sacrifice your own happiness.

 Ever since your father had made the announcement of your impending wedding, it had consumed your every thought. You hadn’t even met your betrothed and, yet, you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with them. You had watched the older servants with their spouses and to be honest with yourself it melted your heart. Even your father was a kind and gentle person when it came to your mother. With any luck, the person you were going to marry would be kind to you.

 Deciding you needed a distraction; you put on a disguise and managed to sneak out of the palace. Sure you could have gotten drunk in your room but where was the fun in that? You had crept out on a few occasions so you knew that the townsfolk knew how to party compared to those stuffy nobles.

From the moment you stepped inside the tavern named The Nest, the atmosphere was abuzz with excitement. The walls were decorated with purple fabric hangings, crossbows, longbows, arrows and other archery items. A taxidermy hawk was perched above the door, its eyes ever watching. A one eyed dog ran about the patrons, getting pats from some of them and cleaning up pieces of dropped food. People were dancing, singing and drinking, some leaning on each other for support as they swayed. To any other noble, the scene may have looked chaotic but to you, it only looked like fun.

 With a grin, you made your way over to the bar and took a seat. Still taking in your surroundings, you barely noticed when the sandy haired bartender stood in front of you.

 “What can I get you?”

 “Oh! Um...” You tried to think of something that would not give away your identity as a noble. The man raised an eyebrow at you.

 “Hey, Clint! Two boilermakers over here,” another patron called.

 The man whom you now know as Clint poured them the drinks and turned back to you.

 “So?”

 “I’ll have... o-one of those,” you said, making a feeble attempt to pound your fist on the counter in an attempt to fit in.

 Clint tilted his head and gave you a curious look.

 “Alright...”

 Clint made the boilermaker and placed it in front of you. Thanking him, you took a swig of the drink and felt instant misgivings about it as the alcohol burned not only your throat but your ears and the very pit of your stomach. Clint laughed as you coughed and spluttered.

 “You’re not from around here, are you?”

 “You... might say that,” you mumbled, wiping your mouth.

 “You picked the right night to come. Nat’s doing a show.”

 “Nat?”

 “Wow, you really aren’t from around here if you don’t know Natasha. Just watch,” he advised, nodding his head over to the stage.

 The stage was well lit and crowed around the edges by men and women who were eagerly waiting for whoever was about to appear from behind the purple curtains.

 Music began and a foot decorated with a silver anklet emerged. The audience cheered loudly as the woman behind her curtain slowly began to reveal herself. She wore a black piece of fabric around her upper body, twisted just a little in the centre of her chest. The bottom of her costume was made up of a red fabric front and back which started out solid but faded to transparent as it went down and held together by delicate chains. Silver cuffs adorned her upper arms and wrists. Her lips were painted sinfully crimson. Sparkly onyx hairpins held her red curls in place. She was absolutely stunning.

 The woman slowly began to sway her hips to the music, arms and feet poised. It was almost hypnotic in the way she moved. As the beat picked up, so did her dancing. One of the men near the front of the stage started to get a little carried away and tried to climb up.

 Fearing for the safety of the dancer, you tensed and shifted to help her but Clint placed a hand on your shoulder.

 “Easy. Nat can handle herself around these drunk idiots.”

 You watched as Nat placed her foot on the man’s cheek before kicking him off the stage. The crowd jeered and laughed at the man, some pouring their drinks on him. Despite the interruption, Nat continued her performance.

 Her face was calm and collected, never faltering, as the audience got more and more rowdy.

 Nat ended her performance by kneeling and giving a graceful bow. The throng of people got even more riled up as she headed back behind the curtain and before you knew it, a fight broke out. You could only sit on your barstool and laugh as the place erupted into bedlam. As a noble, the most you had ever witnessed people scuffle as a heated argument that never went beyond words and even then they never used the language you heard flying around the room. Sure, there was the battlefield but once again that was an entirely different situation.

 However, your humour was soon cut short as the royal guards walked in to break up the fight. You felt your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach.

 “You hiding from those guys?” Clint asked, not even fazed by the mayhem around him.

 “S-sorta...”

 Clint jumped over the bar and prompted you to follow him. You weren’t entirely sure what made you decide to trust a total stranger nonetheless, you followed his lead. As he walked along, he dodged all fists, tankards and bottles that flew his way. You did your best but still caught the occasional projectile to your body, taking great care not to let any hit your face lest there be questions tomorrow.

 He stopped to look around before opening a panel in the back wall, just big enough for you to squeeze out.

 “Follow the tunnel until the end. That’ll take you to the backstreets. Be fast. The guards will start patrolling the minute they break things up here. Just make sure you close the exit on the other side.” With that, Clint pushed you through the gap and closed the panel behind you.

 Just as he said, you followed the tunnel until the end, closing the door behind you and made your way through the backstreets until you had made it all the way home, fortunately without incident.

 As you got ready for bed that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about Nat. She was just so beautiful... Could this be just a crush? You had to know for certain.

...

 The following night, you once again crept out of the palace and back to The Nest and sat at the bar. The place was busy but nowhere near as packed as it was last night.

 “I see the guards failed to catch you,” Clint commented, making his way over to you.

 “Yeah... um... is Nat dancing again tonight by any chance?”

 Clint gave you a sly look.

 “She’s not dancing but she is working. Hey, Nat!”

 Your heart began to race as the red head walked over to you. Tonight she was wearing a black, off-the-shoulder dress with a red belt around her waist. Even outside of her dancing costume she was beautiful.

 “What?”

 “This is the one I was telling you about.”

 You felt panic seize in your chest. They were talking about you? What in the world could they have possibly been saying? Nat looked you up and down, carefully examining you before glancing over at Clint who gave an approving nod.

 “Let’s dance...”

 Before you could protest, Nat grabbed your hand and dragged you onto the dance floor. It was no surprise to you that she was just as graceful on her feet as she had been on stage. As you danced with her, you could feel her brushing her hands over your hips and waist. You found yourself surrendering to her touch. At the end of the song, Nat wrapped her arms around your shoulders and pressed her lips to your ear.

 “Tell me... what is a noble doing in a place like this?”

 You completely froze.

 “Wh-what makes you think...?”

 “Everything. From the way you dance, to your posture and your speech. So, answer my question.”

 “Is... is there somewhere private we can talk?”

 Nat lead you to the backroom after checking the coast was clear.

 “Now talk...”

 With a sigh, you removed your hood, showing her your face.

 “The heir to the throne,” she whispered reverently.

 You put your hood back on and looked down.

 “You should get out of here. Folks in these parts don’t take kindly to nobles, especially members of the royal family. What are you doing here anyway?”

 “I... I wanted to experience as much freedom as I could before I get married...”

 “So one last fling before finally settling down. How sweet.” Her voice positively dripped venom as she spoke.

 “It’s not like that!”

 “Then tell me what it is like...”

 With a sigh, you looked out the tiny window on the back wall that let in a sliver of moonlight.

 “Ever since I was young, I dreamed of having a perfect wedding with the perfect person I would spend the rest of my life with... but with this war, I’m to marry one of the children of the opposing kingdom as a token of peace... I don’t know what kind of person they are. If they’re good, maybe we could work together to fix some of the broken parts of the city and of course, I would help in their kingdom too but if they’re not a good person, well...”

 Nat was quiet for a few moments before finally speaking.

 “I really hate it when Clint is right,” she sighed.

 You turned to look at her.

 “Clint?”

 “You see, Clint has this innate sense of finding the good in people and helping them out. He helped me a few years back...”

 You held her hand, encouraging her to continue.

 “I was in a really bad place... did some really bad things... Clint helped me get out of it. Got me a job, a home... even made me partner. I owe a lot to him...”

 You couldn’t help but feel a small pang of jealousy for the man even though you knew it was completely irrational.

 “So you and he are...?”

 Nat shook her head.

 “We tried it once but it didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends.”

 You couldn’t help but feel a tiny sense of relief.

 “I would like to get to know you better... for however I have until my impending marriage. That is if you’ll let me.”

 “What about after?”

 “I’ll try and see you if I can... and if not; you can be my one who got away.”

 “That was... really cheesy,” she laughed.

 “I guess it was... but what do you say?”

 “On one condition; don’t make any promises you can’t or don’t intend to keep. I’ve been through enough of that in my lifetime.”

 “It’s a deal.”

...

 Over the next few weeks, you got to know Nat quite well. You knew everything about her and she knew everything about you and not just as future sovereign but as a person. Eventually the time came when the feuding royal family came to your kingdom, bringing with them your spouse to be.

 They introduced you to the youngest member of the family named Loki. Loki was about your age and attractive enough but in the short time you spent with Natasha, your heart purely belonged to her. Your respective fathers left you alone to bond, catching daggers in their backs from the glares from both you and Loki as they left.

 “They certainly can be civil when they want to be,” Loki sneered.

 “You got that right...”

 “You don’t really want to be married to me do you?”

 You thought carefully about how to answer.

 “I don’t even know you... but how else can we stop this war?”

 “I have been doing research on my end. If we can pool our resources, perhaps we can find how it began and how we can stop it. Shall we?”

 Loki offered a slender hand which you took.

 “We shall.”

...

 In the time leading up to your wedding, you and Loki spent every minute of the day together. To anyone else, it looked like a couple bonding and getting to know each other before your upcoming nuptials. To you and Loki, it was a mission; one to find out the truth and put an end to the war.

 Your nights were spent with Nat, talking about Loki and what else you could do to stop the fighting. There was one night you had crept in after seeing Nat and Loki had caught you and you thought for sure you were done for but instead, Loki covered for you. Loki was fully supportive of your relationship with Natasha and encouraged you to pursue her once this whole thing had blown over.

 Eventually it came time when your wedding was fast approaching. The night before the big event, you were of course with Natasha, wanting to spend as long as you could with each other before whatever happened tomorrow.

 “I promise you Nat, we will be together...”

 Nat teared up and shook her head.

 “Remember the deal you made, Y/N. You said you wouldn’t make promises you couldn’t keep...”

 “But I intend to keep this one...”

 “Just go!”

 Nat turned away so you couldn’t see her cry. You gently turned her back to you and kissed her softly. She kissed back, holding you tight as if she didn’t want to let you go. Eventually you had to break for air.

 “If... if this really is our last night together... then let’s make a memory that will last a lifetime...”

 With that, you kissed her again, this time with all the love and passion you could muster. It may have seemed scandalous to spend the night before your wedding with another but you wouldn’t give Nat away for the world.

...

 The following morning, you and Loki had set your plan into motion. The wedding started out like any other with guests arriving and people all taking their places. Your heart was hammering against your ribs and blood roared in your ears as the ceremony began. Loki remained calm and collected, keeping cool until the right moment.

 “If anyone has any objections as to why these two should not wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

 “We object,” both you and Loki said in unison. The whole room erupted into shock. Instantly, both Odin and your father rounded on the pair of you, absolutely seething.

 “Silence!” Loki snarled. The room fell quiet.

 “Now, the whole point of this wedding was to stop this ridiculous war. A war that was started over a futile reason...”

 Both you and Loki went to where you had hidden two ancient artefacts; one from your history and one from Asgard’s.

 “Many years ago, our kingdom was accused of taking this,” you said, holding the item up high.

 “But they were wrong. We had our own the whole time,” Loki stated, holding up the other.

 “Our two kingdoms went to war when they should have been joining forces as we were once centuries ago...”

 The pair of you combined the two items to show they fitted perfectly together.

 “We should be united once more. Let us put a stop to the fighting once and for all!”

 The gathering all cheered and rejoiced at the prospect of peace. Your fathers sat there sullenly while their wives attempted to gently comfort them. Loki gently turned to you.

 “Isn’t there someone you want to see?”

 With Loki’s blessing, you ran out of the church.

...

 Nat had been drowning her sorrows at The Nest. She had known this day was long coming but it didn’t stop the ache she felt in her heart from losing you to another. Clint did his best to try and comfort her but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t even look up when her name was called but eventually Clint did catch her attention.

 “What?!” she hissed. Clint pointed behind her to where you were standing still in your wedding clothes.

 “Y/N? What are you-” You cut her off with a kiss.

 “Loki and I did it. We were able to restore peace and we didn’t even have to get married. We can be together now...”

 “But I’m just a common barmaid. You’re going to take over the throne...”

 “And when I do, I can make whatever rule I want and marry whoever I want. I want to marry you one day Natasha... that is if you’ll have me...”

 “I...” Nat looked over to Clint who smiled and nodded. “Yes...”

...

 Over the next few weeks, you worked in tandem with Nat to fix the rough parts of the city, just as you had told her. There was a lot of gossip surrounding your relationship but neither of you cared. You had also made a point to stay in touch with Loki to find out how things were going in Asgard.

 After so many years of war, it was nice to finally see some happiness. Maybe in time, there would be a royal wedding after all. A real one out of love that was formed between two hearts that truly cared for one another.

[thran-duils]

Lost In Zero Gravity (P.3)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Three) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,574 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior

Part Two || Part Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

There were hands on you and you tried to push them away, frightened.

A man’s voice said quickly, “Sorry, sorry. I’m here to help. I’m gonna get you some help.”

“I… no, no ambulance,” you got out.

“You do not look good at all, love,” the man said, his hand cupping the back of your head to keep you steady as you tried to push yourself up off the ground. “You should stay down.”

You shook your head, “No… I live close.”

You stumbled getting to your feet, falling back against the wall. You groaned painfully, holding your head and slid back down the wall to sit back down on the ground. Your vision was swimming.

“You can’t walk on your own. I’m calling an ambulance.”

“I—”

“It’s okay,” the man said, and you heard him saying, “Yes, I’m on Newman Avenue—”

<><><>

Tony was calling again. He had called a couple days ago, texted yesterday, and you had not responded. You were too afraid to speak to him; you knew you would probably cry because you would have to explain why you could not meet up with him. It went to voicemail again and you sat there staring at your phone. You did not want to lose him permanently as a customer; you liked his attention. You were actually starting to develop feelings which was a big no-no but you could not pull yourself away.

It had only been a week since Jared had messed you up in the alley and your face did not look great. Your eyes were black from your broken nose and he had left quite a shiner on your cheek. Your ribs were still sore too from where he had kicked you, bruising them.

You crawled off your bed and walked to the door, throwing it open. You made your way downstairs, passing one of the other girls on the way down, who rubbed your arm affectionately. You gave her a small smile before continuing on to Tatiana’s office. You knocked on the door lightly, seeing her through the crack of the open door.

“Yes?” she said, looking up from her desk.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course, stellina,” Tatiana said, sitting up straight at her desk. Her eyes ran over your face and you saw her expression tighten. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit still.”

“I can imagine.”

You shifted and asked, “Can you do me a favor?”

“What is it?”

You held up your phone and said, “Tony called me a couple days ago… texted too. And he just called again. I… I don’t think I can talk to him about it. And I don’t want him to think I’m mad or anything or that I’m done with them. Could you call him and explain?”

Tatiana nodded immediately, “Of course. I have some time now.”

You grabbed a piece of paper off her desk and copied his number down for her. You pushed it across the desk, “Thank you.”

She held up her hand and said, “Wanna sit here while I do it? Just in case… something comes up.”

You hesitated but nodded and sunk into one of the chairs across from her desk.

“You know this is mutually beneficial for me to do this,” she told you. “If they like you as much as they seem to, maybe they will shower you still with gifts.”

“I’m not worried about that,” you cut in quickly.

“Regardless, having them keep up pay possibly in the meantime will help out. Not to be crass.”

You nodded, “I understand.”

Tatiana picked up her desk phone and dialed the number you had written down. “He might not answer,” she said as it began to ring. “Won’t recognize the number.” She sighed, hearing it go to voicemail. Briefly, she left, “Mr. Stark, please give me a call back at this number regarding my employee that you’ve been trying to reach. Thank you.”

She kept it vague. Smart.

When Tony called her back almost immediately, she smirked. “Looks like I was clear enough…”

“Hello, Mr. Stark,” Tatiana said, answering the phone, putting it on speaker. “This is Tatiana Bianchi.”

“Did I get blacklisted?” was the first thing out of his mouth.

Her face scrunched, “No, you didn’t.”

“Then why is Y/N not responding to me?”

“Y/N is not working.”

There was a pause. “Did she leave the service?”

“Kind of. She is taking a break.”

Tony’s voice was rougher this time, “So she’s on vacation? She could have at least told me that.” You flinched at that. “I’ve called a couple times and texted.”

“I don’t know how to put this lightly, but her ex found her,” Tatiana said. And added quickly, “Her asshole of an ex. He left his fucking mark. Broke her damn nose, bruised her ribs. Gave her a concussion. I think he would have done worse if some Good Samaritan hadn’t intervened before he could do anymore damage. Bastard stole her money too and her purse. The job she was working was close to here and he said he had been following her, so he knows where this place is. She doesn’t want to see anyone, understandably. I wouldn’t put her out there either right now. And in regards to her responding to you, she asked me to talk to you about it because she’s upset. Again, understandably.”

Tatiana was watching you across the desk as she spoke. You were chewing on your lip, listening to her explain it to him.

“I wanna see her,” Tony said tightly after a few moments.

“Mr. Stark—”

“I want to see how bad it is. Talk to her about it.”

Tatiana locked eyes with you and she asked, “Can I put you on hold?”

“Sure,” he said curtly.

She pressed the hold button and looked at you expectantly.

“I don’t want him to see me looking like a trainwreck.”

“Y/N,” Tatiana said in a quiet voice. “You know why he’s asking to talk to you.”

“Yeah, he feels bad and I get that—”

“No,” Tatiana cut in, shaking her head. “I think he wants to talk to you about it for a reason. A very specific reason. You know what he does, you know who he is. You really think he couldn’t handle that little dickhead?”

You shook your head, “I… I don’t think that’s what he means.”

She gave you a knowing smile, “Okay. So, maybe he does just want to come and give you flowers. Is there anything wrong with that?” You stared at her for a few moments, and she pressed, “He seems like he’s a pretty stubborn person. What’s to say he won’t just show up anyway? Why not do it on your own terms and permission?”

“Okay.”

Unmuting the call, Tatiana said, “Sorry about that. I needed to talk to her to see how she felt about it. She agreed.”

“I can come early in the morning. Like 5. Before it gets light.”

“I’m sure that would be fine.”

“Alright, I’ll be there. Thank you for the call,” Tony said.

“Goodbye,” Tatiana said to him before he hung up the phone.

“God, that’s so early,” you muttered, slumping back in the chair.

Tatiana quipped, “You better get a good night’s rest then so you’re up and ready.”

You pushed yourself out of the chair and said, “Easy for you to say. You’re essentially a vampire.” That caused her to smirk. You thanked her, “Thank you for doing that.”

She nodded, “Of course.”

<><><>

There was a loud knock on your bedroom door that drug you from your sleep. Your eyes snapped open, and you quickly realized you must have turned your alarm off completely when it went off. You swore under your breath, checking your phone. It was 5:07am. You got out of bed, rubbing at your eyes and walked over to your door.

When you opened it just a crack, you saw Tony and Steve standing there with a couple of their men standing behind them in the hall. You saw their jaws set seeing you, taking in your face. Even if it was just illuminated by the light coming in from the hall, you were sure the bruises were visible enough.

“Um, morning,” you stammered. “Sorry, I didn’t get up in time. I’m still in my pajamas…”

Tony rose his brows, “You wanna let us in?”

You swallowed sharply but opened the wider, stepping back to let the two of them file in. You turned from them and walked over to your bed, flipping on the lamp to give soft light in the room. Their men stayed in the hall and Steve closed the door behind him.

There was no way to hide now, and you turned back to them, playing with the hem of your t shirt, shooting an embarrassed look at them.

“Christ,” Steve muttered upon fully seeing you.

You eyed the large bouquet he was holding but before he could hold it out to you, Tony came up to you. He was staring down at your face and you could see the fury in his expression. He reached up, turning your face gently to get a better look at your cheek.

His jaw clicked before he asked, “He found you on the street, Tatiana said?”

“Yeah. He followed me, I guess. Has been following me it sounded like. I hadn’t seen him in a year and a half almost.” You gestured at your face, explaining honestly, “It’s not anything new. I didn’t leave him for no reason.”

“You wanna give me a name?” Tony deadpanned.

Your heart race increased. Tatiana had been right. “Not really,” you told him quietly.

“A name, Y/N” Tony repeated.

“I just won’t walk alone,” you tried to reason and side step it.

Steve snorted, shaking his head and your gaze was drawn to him. He shook his head again when he saw you looking. “No. That’s not how this is gonna work. This,” he gestured at your face. “is fucking unacceptable at best.”

“I don’t care to give you a name. Really. I appreciate—”

“Y/N,” Tony’s voice was firm as he cut you off.

You were pleading practically now, “I’m serious. I don’t care and I don’t want to deal with him.”

“I came here before dawn to figure out how I’m gonna kill this little prick. I would appreciate it if you would help me out, darling,” Tony told you tensely. “I don’t take lightly to men hitting women. Especially women I’m invested in. And you won’t be dealing with him. We will be you. You don’t have to be involved at all.”

Tatiana was right about him being stubborn, although you already knew that. He was not going to leave without the information that he wanted.

“Jared Easton. I don’t know where he lives now though.”

“Where did he live last you knew?” Steve asked.

“We lived in Chelsea. I don’t know if he’s still there.”

Tony took his phone out of his pocket and opened up his note app. He held the phone out to you and said, “You can put the address in here.” There was no room for a discussion, he was telling you to do it.

Grinding your teeth, you took the phone reluctantly. Your hands shook slightly as you typed in the address of the townhouse that the two of you had shared. When you handed the phone back to him, Tony’s demeanor relaxed. His hand came up to hold your neck, staring into your eyes.

“You don’t have to be afraid of him,” Tony told you softly. You nodded, tears pricking your eyes and you tried to hold them back desperately. Tony sighed, reaching up and wiping away one that escaped with his thumb. “We will see to that. We promise.”

He gave you a hug and your heart skipped a beat as he kissed the top of your head. This was a different kind of intimate than normal. You liked it, despite all the warnings to not get attached.

When he stepped back, he said, “There’s breakfast downstairs for you whenever you get hungry. I know a lot of people don’t like to eat super early. But Steve’s smart, thought it would be good to bring it. He remembered you liked that place in Williamsburg. I think he only remembered because you liked somewhere in Brooklyn.”

That caused you to give a little laugh which is what Tony had been aiming for you guessed.

Tony’s eyes ran over your face and he gave a small smile. “There. That’s better. I don’t like it when you look sad, baby.”

He stepped back and Steve stepped up, holding the flowers out to you. You took them and you thanked him. Steve leaned forward, giving you a kiss on the top of the head as well.

“When you’re feeling better, let us know,” Steve said as they made their way back to your bedroom door.

<><><>

After they left, you brought the flowers out to the dining table, putting them in the center.

Elisha appeared in the doorway and looked around. She was still in her pajamas but she did not look tired; like she had been up. That was odd because she loved sleeping in. But you got your answer soon enough.

“So, they did come.” You nodded. She smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, the knock woke me up and I waited up to talk to you about it. If you want to.”

“It’s fine.”

“They brought flowers?”

“And breakfast.”

“Aww,” Elisha said coming over closer and leaning in to smell the flowers. “That’s super sweet of them. So… did they do what Tatiana thought they were going to do?” You nodded and her eyes widened. “Did you give them anything?”

“They forced me to basically. They weren’t going to let it go.”

“Why are men so goddamn protective of whoever they’re bedding?”

You shrugged, “I hope nothing bad comes from it.”

“You should be happy.” Tatiana’s voice startled the two of you. She walked further into the room, and said seriously, “They’re doing you a favor. You should relish in that type of protection. Not many are afforded it. And don’t worry about them messing it up. They’re professionals, Y/N.”

“I just don’t want anyone dead because of me,” you said. “Even if it’s him.”

“Well, then let them do it for me. Because when I came into that ER room, I wanted to find the little bastard and gut him myself. So, better them than me getting my hands dirty. Assholes like him won’t stop with a restraining order or charges against them, so this is the best course of action.” She paused before forcing you to look at her directly. “Y/N though, my dear… just know what this means. This is big. A very, very big favor they’re doing. Sure, it is going to satisfy them but they are killing someone for you. That is not something to brush off. You need to show appreciation for it. Elisha is right. Men are very protective of whoever they are bedding and they also like to be praised for it too. Do you get that?” You swallowed sharply, giving a curt nod. “Good.”

She clapped her hands, her mood changing quickly. “Now, let’s get you some of that breakfast because I saw what it was and it looks delicious. It’ll cheer you up. Go, go!”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming, @oceaniamaddness, @multifandom-superlover

[gwynrielendgame]

Gwyn x Nesta

This is not as edited as my other fics but I was just too excited to post. I would like to comment that I pretty much think every character is bisexual unless stated otherwise lol. I also recognize this piece could come off problematic (ppl thinking this is fetishization) I personally don’t think it is, but I welcome constructive criticism. I am bisexual and a SA survivor so I felt comfortable writing about those topics considering I have personal experience with both.

Thank you for the idea: @mercurianbisous @genya-berdara

“Hey Nes.”

Nesta jumped from her spot on the couch, closing her book as she did so. A small smile graced her face as she realized Gwyn was standing at the entry of the House of Wind library.

“Hey Gwyn, you scared the shit out of me.” Nesta chuckled as she put her book away. She patted the spot next to her, beckoning for Gwyn to join her. Gwyn knew she looked awkward standing there, twisting her fingers. Gwyn hesitantly took the spot.

“I have a favor to ask.” Gwyn managed to spit out. She needed to start somewhere and knew that Nesta would never judge her for what she was about to ask. She might turn her down, but she would never laugh.

Nesta simply raised a singular eyebrow at Gwyn. She leant back on the couch and flourished her hand as if to tell Gwyn to continue.

“I am only asking you because I know you are not interested in women, which is precisely why I cannot ask Emerie-“

“You are interested in Emerie?” Nesta asked nonchalantly. Gwyn felt relief at the lack of judgement, but annoyed at the interruption. She needed to get this out now or she never would.

“No. Listen to everything before you answer.” Nesta gave a shrug which Gwyn took as her agreement.

“I want to practice kissing, but there are no males that I trust enough to ask and I cannot ask females from the library. I figure if I practice enough it will not be so anxiety inducing for me. With everything that happened to me, I think it might be easier to start kissing females and work my way up to males. I think once I can kiss a male then I will know my trauma does not have that power over me and this is my really convoluted way of asking you to kiss me.” She snapped her mouth shut the second she finished rambling. She searched Nesta’s face for any emotion that might give away how she feels about the matter.

“ I did not think you fancied women.” Nesta said plainly.

“I suppose I have not paid much attention to any romance. But I would say I value the person over body parts.” Gwyn shrugged but her face was bright red from embarrassment.

“Okay, lay one on me.”

She gave a startled look to her friend, who was handling this much better than Gwyn was. The ease with which she accepted this made Gwyn inherently suspicious.

“Do you fancy women?” She looked at Nesta through narrowed eyes.

“Not particularly. But I love you Gwyn, and Cass won’t mind especially if it is to help you.” A very rare, coveted soft look blessed Nesta’s face. Gwyn found herself wanting to cry. She had not felt this type of companionship in years.

“I do not want you to feel obligated as my friend. I understand if you want to say no.”

“Do I appear as someone that feels obligated often?” Nesta asked with raised eyebrows. It made Gwyn giggle a little. Nesta grabbed Gwyn’s hand, forcing her to look at Nesta.

“Lay one on me, love.” Nesta’s face was beautiful as she smiled. It made Gwyn start to feel a little nervous. They were really doing this.

“I am going to start with my eyes open. It is easier to remind myself who I am kissing.”

“Okay.” Again, a soft smile graced her face as she used a soft voice. Normally Gwyn hated pity, but she appreciated Nesta being sensitive to the situation.

Even though her heart was beating out of her chest, she set her hands on Nesta’s shoulders and focused in on her lips. They were a standard set of lips. Medium sized, and smooth. Gwyn took one last deep breathe and shoved her lips against Nesta’s. They both could admit the kiss was awkward at best. Gwyn would take awkward over horrific any day though. She kept her eyes wide open while Nesta’s were closed. One may not even call it a kiss, really just two pairs of lips not touching. Neither of them moved a muscle. Gwyn realized it was because Nesta was letting Gwyn have complete control over the situation and that made her smile through the kiss. Once Gwyn was certain that no unwanted memories were waiting to overwhelm her, she puckered her lips and actually kissed her before pulling away.

“How was that?” Nesta asked.

“Terrifying.” Gwyn said with a grin. “Let’s try again.” She gave a sheepish look after a moments thought. “If that is fine with you?”

Nesta rolled her eyes before closing them and comically puckering her lips. Gwyn once again giggled before going in for a second kiss. Once again she started with her eyes open, but once her heart calmed down and she stopped worrying about the past, she closed her eyes. There was something comforting about kissing Nesta, it was not attraction or chemistry. Perhaps, love though. An intimate expression of platonic love that squeezed at Gwyn’s heart. It was easy to ignore the past when the scent of Nesta and books were so overwhelmingly comforting to Gwyn. When the feel of Nesta’s hands were so familiar. Or when her even breathes were so recognizable. Gwyn knew there was not a safer spot in the world than right by Nesta’s side. Gwyn decided to be bold and flick Nesta’s bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. It caused Nesta to squeak and open her eyes for a second before settling back into the kiss. Slowly, they both started deepening the kiss. A swipe of a tongue here, a turn of the head there. It was a nice kiss, mostly exploratory. Simply, Gwyn discovering her boundaries, deciding what might be too much. Gwyn lifted her hands to grip Nesta’s face, so that the kiss might be less awkward. Nesta kept her hands in her lap which Gwyn was grateful for.

The doors to the library burst open with an exuberant Cassian. Gwyn all but threw herself against the opposite side of the couch.

“Nes, I was thinking for tonight-“ he stopped abruptly at the sight he just walked in on. Gwyn thought his brain might be malfunctioning from system overload based on the expression on his face.

Gwyn suddenly felt very guilty. This must have looked much worse than it actually was to him. Gwyn briefly glanced at Nesta. While Gwyn was stiffly sitting on the sofa, Nesta was nonchalantly leaning against the arm of the chair from her spot. A small smirk rested on her lips. Cassian’s head had been comically bouncing back and forth from Nesta and Gwyn before resting on the latter.

“Are you trying to steal my mate?” He was trying to muffle a laugh and failing. Gwyn hid her face behind her hands as it flamed a brighter red.

“This is not what it looks like!” Gwyn muttered into her hands. Cassian sauntered right over to the couch and plopped himself between the girls.

“Do explain.” He nudged Gwyn with a smile on his face. She was glad he was not angry, but the last thing she wanted to do was explain. She looked to Nesta for help who ended up sighing very loudly.

“I was helping Gwyn with some intimacy problems.” Was all she gave as a response. Cassian dropped the smile and looked at Nesta with such a serious look that Gwyn wondered if she misinterpreted Cassian’s emotions. Maybe he was mad after all.

“Is Gwyn a better kisser than me?” He said it so seriously that all Gwyn could do was groan. Nesta giggled, which did not happen often, so Gwyn knew Nes was highly amused by the situation while Gwyn was mortified.

“Gwyn is the best kisser.” Nesta said earnestly.

Gwyn rolled her eyes as that as she continued to try and press herself as far into the couch as she possibly could. Cassian’s wings were still almost touching her and all she wanted was to disappear from this mortifying situation forever.

“Damn, now I want one. What do I have to do to get a Gwyn kiss?”

The teasing was too much for Gwyn to bare.

“Stooooop.” Gwyn whined as the mated couple tried to mask their laughter.

“Please, Gwyn?” He even puckered his lips at her. She knew he was joking, but she wanted it to stop and knew exactly how to get him to stop. Besides, this is the next level up on the intimacy scale for Gwyn with Cassian being a male and all. She quickly pressed her lips against his and pulled away just as fast.

A second later she realized how impulsive it was. She began forming an apology to both of them when she noticed they were both smiling genuinely. Gwyn rested her hands on her burning cheeks and looked away.

“I agree, Nes. She is the best.” Cassian replied as he threw both arms around the females shoulders.

“You two are the worst.” Gwyn whined as she realized they had teamed up against her to get her to kiss Cassian.

“I think this is means for celebration Gwyn.” Nesta ignored her complaints and continued smiling. “You kissed two people today and one was a male. Big accomplishments.” Gwyn huffed but could not stop the small smile that spread her lips.

“That is good.” Gwyn relented. Secretly she was glad that neither of them were upset.

“Before you know it, you will have made out with the entire night court inner circle.” Cassian joked. “I bet you could even manage to steal a kiss from Azriel’s shadows.”

“Well, they do like me.”

“Everyone likes you Gwyn. You are awesome.” Nesta held Cassian’s hand as they all sat on the couch.

Gwyn felt a punch to a stomach as she looked at their hands. It was longing, she discovered. She wanted to sit on a couch holding someone’s hand. She wanted to be so comfortable with a person that every move they made was in sync like Nes and Cass seemed. She sighed. One day she would get her happily ever after. There really was no rush.

[qianinterprises]

Lies {Ten x Reader}

Author's Note: I wrote this in a few days and it has not been beta read so I'm more than a little sure it will have grammatical and spelling errors. I still hope you enjoy though!

Synopsis: You are hiding a big secret. A secret that, to keep hidden, you continuously lie to your boyfriend about.

Pairing: Ten x Reader

Word Count: 3600 words

Brisk, polluted air washed over the city, bringing the soft, fresh scent of morning to the land. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but the city was awake, shop owners unlocking their doors, cars stuck at traffic lights, half dressed and hung over men and women doing the walk of shame. It was the same every morning. Except, this morning, there was a slight difference.

You tugged your boyfriend's jacket tighter as a soft breeze breathed across your body. You weren’t usually awake at this hour, preferring to sleep well into the morning, but today, there was too much to think about. Too much on your mind. You’d slept as long as you could, but, for once, your boyfriend's embrace was unable to lull your racing thoughts.

Life could be complicated. Just when you were starting to enjoy it, it threw you a curveball. Typically, those curveballs somehow made everything fall into place, somehow kickstarted your life in some new, better direction. This time, life had done more than throw you a curveball. It kicked you in the crotch and spit in your cereal.

Your fingers wrapped around the cool rail of the balcony and sighed. Worries and fears rushed through your mind. How were you going to tell Ten? How were you going to tell your family and his? How did you even feel about all of this?

A hand dropped down to your stomach, still aching and cramping from the early morning sickness. Your eyes shut. This was the last thing you needed. Yet here you were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure? You could just be late this time,” your best friend had asked.

You weren’t. All you were certain of was it had been two weeks since you were supposed to get your period and it still hadn’t shown up. Now, you didn’t like bleeding from your lady bits, but it was always a sure sign that your uterus was perfectly unhappy without a fertilized egg nestled inside its warm walls. Without a bloody hissy fit producing a murder scene in your pants and with some sort of stomach virus churning up your guts, you were beginning to get worried.

“Have you been to the doctor?” she asked.

“Yeah right, they’d call here and Ten would somehow end up answering and find out the truth from some middle-aged balding guy instead of me!”

She raised her hands in surrender.

“Then… a drugstore test?” she asked.

“How? I’d end up using my credit card and when he pays the bill, he’d see a weird charge and ask me about it, then I’d have to tell him after he’d backed me into a corner!”

She sighed, clearly getting annoyed.

“Do you want me to get it for you?”

You paused a moment to think, a smile blossoming across your face.

“That’d be great!”

She let out a groan and slid up off the couch, grabbing her purse.

“If you are, I get to name it,” she declared before marching out of your apartment.

As her car started and back out of the driveway, you grabbed your favorite blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around you, burrowing yourself deeper into the fuzzy softness as your stomach twisted in knots. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath, praying for a good answer, but the issue was, you had no idea what answer you truly wanted.

On one hand, you loved Ten with all your heart and would jump at the chance of having a family with him. On the other, he was an idol. He was an idol in NCT no less that was constantly traveling back and forth between South Korea and China for promotions. He was busy. His career was just getting good. Something like this could, not only change your life, but alter his forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It hadn’t taken long for your best friend to get back from the pharmacy. It was only right down the road after all. Still, as soon as she stepped in the door, holding up a bag filled with packages of sticks that could show your future and alter your life, you tightened the blanket around you. Did you even want to know?

She sat down on the edge of the couch seeming to read your mind as she brought a hand up to softly stroke over your shoulder. Her gaze softened. You knew she understood. It wasn’t long ago that she’d also had a pregnancy scare which had resulted in simply being food poisoning.

You doubted that was the case this time.

“It’ll be better once you know. Then, there’s no longer the lingering curiosity and fear,” she encouraged softly.

She was right. You knew that, but nothing could stop the anxiety from pooling in your stomach as you cast your eyes at the shopping bag.

“How many did you get?” you asked.

“Five. Just to be certain,” she said softly.

With a nod and a deep breath, you reached for the bag still resting in her hand. You carried it to the bathroom, locking the door. You knew she wouldn’t barge in on you, but as shuddered breaths fell from your lips, you knew you needed to do this next part completely alone.

You unpackaged each of the tests and lined them up in an easily accessible row.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eight minutes later, you sat on the bathroom floor, back pressed against the door as your eyes sharply watched the timer on your phone count down. Your chest clenched at the last few seconds before it dinged in your hand, signaling time was up. The tests were ready and, once you looked at the results, you would finally have answers, answers you possibly didn’t want.

“Deep breaths, (y/n),” you whispered to yourself.

You shut your timer off and eased yourself off the floor, hands trembling as you reached for the closest plastic stick. What were you even hoping for?

Your fingers closed around the plastic and your eyes closed, breath becoming shallow. Just a few more seconds. Few more seconds of ignorant bliss before you would be forced to learn the truth.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and opened your eyes, two pink lines on the stick greeting you.

The test fell from your hands as your body crumpled to the ground, tears spilling from your eyes and cascading down your face.

“(y/n)?” your best friend asked.

You didn’t respond. Your body shuddered as silent sobs racked through your body. It wasn’t that you weren’t happy or that you’d never dreamed of having a family, you just never expected it to happen like this, especially when you could not only ruin your life, but the life of a child and your boyfriends.

It was a few extra minutes before you were finally able to pull yourself off the floor and unlock the door. Your best friend gaped at your teary eyes, face etched with worry, but she opened her arms and you dropped into them, wrapping your arms around her tightly and clinging to her.

“It… It was… p-positive,” you stammered.

She squeezed you tightly, hands rubbing up and down your back.

“I’m pregnant…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By sheer luck, Ten hadn’t come home that night, choosing to stay at the WayV dorm with Hendery and Xiaojun who, according to Ten, were distraught and upset that they didn’t get to see Ten every day anymore.

His absence had allowed you time to dispose of the tests, all of which read positive, burying them in the trash and making a mental note to take the trash out the next day. You’d also had time to calm yourself down enough to make a decision.

Getting rid of the baby wasn’t an option. You loved children. You’d always loved the prospects of having a child. Even if Ten wanted nothing to do with you or the child, you were not going to simply get rid of it. If he left and you decided you couldn’t do it on your own, you would check yourself into a facility that would help you and give the baby up for adoption. If you thought you could handle it, you would raise your own child. Because no matter what Ten said, you still had your own choices to make.

That night, you had settled down with a sappy romance movie and a bowl of ice cream, curled up in one of Ten’s shirts in bed, preparing to tell him the next day.

However, that day would never come.

As the next day rolled around, you had put off telling him and, as the days ticked by, you kept making excuses not to. Pretty soon, you’d hit the three month mark with a healthy baby and your flat stomach was starting to expand. You’d always worn baggier shirts so, covering up wasn’t a big deal, but the constant sickness and cravings were getting harder to hide.

Arms wrapped around your waist, causing you to jump, thoughts evaporating into the chilly air.

“What are you doing up so early?” he whispered sleepily against your ear, a chill running down your spine.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you calmly responded.

He hummed against your ear and squeezed you a little closer. You winced as his arms tightened around your stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head.

“I’m still getting over this virus, I guess,” you lied.

Ten was an attentive man, so when he noticed how often you were getting sick, in the mornings specifically, he had immediately asked you about it. Being on the spot and not quite ready to tell him the truth, you’d lied that you’d been hanging around a friend with the stomach virus and they must have given it to you. He had bought it, insisting that you go to the doctor if it got worse, but you had declined. Now, weeks after you’d first lied, as your sickness continued, Ten was becoming more freaked out, begging you to go to the hospital, convinced that you were dying.

Not wanting to admit that you’d been lying, and slightly concerned that, even three months into your pregnancy, you were still getting sick, you had waited until Ten was doing promotions before going to your doctor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s nice to see you again, Ms. (y/l/n), how have you been feeling?” your doctor, Dr. Byun asked, taking a seat on the plush stool by the laptop.

“I’ve been alright. Just concerned. I know I’m around three months, but I would have thought the morning sickness would have ceased by now…”

He let out a hum and pulled your chart up on your laptop.

“Your last check-up was two weeks ago. Did they do an ultrasound? I’m not seeing it in here.”

You shook your head.

“Alright, so that’s the first step. I will tell you that morning sickness at three months usually goes away, but it is completely common and natural for some women to experience sickness well after that,” he responded.

You let out a sigh. Ten would never buy it if you told him your throwing up was completely normal. But you nodded and he stepped from the room to get a nurse to set up an ultrasound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the ultrasound, Dr. Byun came back, holding his notes.

“It looks like everything is normal. It’s possible that the baby is simply rejecting some of the nutrients given. I know oftentimes during pregnancy, the baby craves sweets, junk-food, or other things, but I would recommend trying to eat as many fruits and vegetables as possible. This will help give the baby nutrients and hopefully quell the sickness. However, I am going to send your blood-work to the labs and see if there is anything else going on.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That had been a week ago and still, even with extra vegetables and well-balanced meals, the sickness persisted, and with it, grew Ten’s worry.

“Maybe I should take you to the hospital if it keeps getting worse,” he suggested, mumbling against your ear.

You shook your head.

“I trust Dr. Byun. He says it can be normal when the ba- I mean, when the immune system needs a little extra nutrients,” you answered.

He didn’t respond for a long moment, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Did Dr. Byun ever call you back with your bloodwork results?” he asked.

You shook your head. It was the truth. Sort of.

You really did feel bad for lying to him. It never was your intention, but the longer you kept your secret, the harder it got to tell him. Part of you wished you’d just come clean the day he’d gotten home so, you’d at least know how he felt and whether or not you’d be doing it alone. The other part of you was terrified the moment you told him that you’d be giving him up.

He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, lips touching your skin in a soft kiss that made you shudder in his arms.

“I love you,” he whispered against your skin.

Your heart melted. If he truly loved you, would he stay? Would he understand why you lied? Would he accept you and the baby as his?

Suddenly, you felt brave enough to come clean. No matter what, you were confident that love would prevail.

“Ten I-”

You were cut off as his phone began to ring.

He sighed, letting his head drop onto your shoulder before reaching into his pajamas pants to retrieve his phone.

“Hello?”

You couldn’t hear who was on the other end, but it was definitely Kun or their manager.

“Now?” he asked.

His nose crinkled in annoyance.

“But (y/n)’s still sick!”

A huff fell from his lips.

“Fine,” he growled into the receiver, hanging up the phone and shoving it back into his pocket, eyes fixing hard on the railing.

“I have to go. Some stupid radio show decided last minute they want us there and we can’t get out of it now,” he grumbled.

You turned around, your courage disappearing as you placed a soft hand on his cheek.

“It’s alright baby. Go, I’ll be here when you get back,” you spoke softly.

He leaned his cheek against your hand, leaning his face closer to press a gentle kiss to your wrist. Butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“I’ll be home after lunch,” he promised.

With that, he hurried back inside.

You watched him disappear into your shared bedroom before facing the city again. The sun was now almost all the way over the horizon.

Would Ten still kiss you like that if he knew?

Your heart clinched heavily in your chest.

Would you be able to live without him if he left?

Ten’s POV

Something wasn’t right. Ten knew that. What he didn’t know was what. (Y/n) had been sick for several weeks and, despite her reassurance that everything was “normal” and “fine,” he couldn’t shake the notion that you were lying about something.

As his car pulled up to the WayV dorm where their manager would be picking them up, he glanced down at his phone. He had been expecting to see you in his background, smiling blissfully, looking as radiant and beautiful as ever by the lake they’d visited over the summer, right before you’d gotten sick. What he saw instead was himself, grinning and holding a small cupcake with purple icing, a single lit candle waiting to be blown out. The picture you’d taken on his birthday.

Confused, he turned the phone over in his hand and shook his head in minor annoyance at the cute little stickers of Ten and the other members of WayV stuck on the clear phone case. Your phone case.

He must have accidentally taken your phone rather than his own in his rush to get dressed and get to the dorm.

A small laugh bubbled to his throat. He knew getting matching phones and phone cases would end up being a bad idea, but you had insisted.

The phone vibrated in his hand and he laughed as his own name popped onto the screen.

From Ten<3: Babe, you took my phone instead :D

Ten shook his head.

To Ten<3: guess you’ll have to forward me updates from everyone today!

From Ten<3: Or I could keep them all to myself and “forget” to tell you

He sent back a laughing emoji and stuffed the phone back in his pocket. He stepped out of his car as the large van meant to take them to the radio show pulled up. He waved to the manager driving and laughed to himself as YangYang led the way sprinting from the building, Lucas and Hendery hot on his heels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was in the middle of the show that Ten felt the phone buzzing in his pocket. As Lucas energetically retold the story of how he’d managed to pull off a prank on Kun and WinWin, Ten discreetly pulled the phone from his pocket. Dr. Byun flashed across the screen and Ten’s heart quickened. On one hand, he wanted to respect your privacy and not answer the call. On the other, he desperately wanted some answers.

“We’re going to take a quick break! We’ll be right back!” the host said over the speaker.

That was all the answer Ten needed to hear.

He clicked the green answer button and pressed his phone to his ear, quickly making his way out of the room before anyone could question him.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Byun, is Ms. (y/l/n) nearby?” he asked.

“She isn’t but I’m her boyfriend. I can take a message.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Ten knew he shouldn’t have said them, but part of him couldn’t help being curious, his gut too filled with worry to think rationally.

“I’m calling to let her know we got her results back. Her sickness is being caused by an anemia that sometimes has the effect on women carrying children. The fetus isn’t getting enough protein nutrients. We’d recommend she eat more red meat and add anemia vitamins to her prenatal vitamins. If the sickness doesn’t stop in two weeks, she should come back in for another visit,” he said.

The phone dropped from Ten’s hand, hitting the floor hard. His eyes were wide, hands shaking. His left knee gave out first, buckling beneath his weight. He clutched the wall for support.

“Ten!”

Kun’s voice barely reached his ears as his heart pounded.

The leaders arms wrapped around Ten’s middle, leading him to lean against him as Kun held him up.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok? Are you feeling faint?”

Ten didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on a spot on the wall.

Pregnant. That’s why you kept throwing up…

Your POV

The moment you’d noticed you were left with Ten’s phone, anxiety pooled in your stomach. You had no idea when Dr. Byun was going to call or whether Ten would answer. Dr. Byun telling Ten the truth was not exactly the best way for him to find out. Especially since you’d been lying to him.

The minute the door to your shared apartment flew open, slamming hard against the wall, your hands began to shake.

“Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me?!” he snapped as soon as he rounded the corner.

His face was red with anger, a sight you weren’t used to seeing. Ten didn’t get angry a lot. And when he did, he often had good outlets, like dance, to vent his anger.

He yanked your phone out of his pocket and threw it on the couch, making you flinch.

“You lied to me! For months! Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” he seethed.

Yours eyes glazed as they met his, tears gathering, but you blinked, refusing to let them fall when his anger was your fault to begin with.

“I-I… I was afraid… I didn’t want to lose you…”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you wanted to take them back. His face fell. His arms tumbled precariously to his side. Tears gathered in his own eyes, escaping and cascading slowly down his face.

Ten didn’t cry often. His pride prevented it. Watching his shoulders begin to tremble and shake had guilt gripping at your heart tightly.

“Did I not prove my love to you enough?” he asked, voice stammering.

You stared at him for a moment before sliding yourself off the couch and wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders.

“I know you love me baby. But… your career… I was afraid you’d leave me… leave us… because I was holding you back from this…”

It was a long moment before he responded.

His hands cupped your face gently, brushing away the tears you hadn’t realized were beginning to fall.

“My career is important. I love being in WayV, but you always come first. And now, you and the baby come first,” he spoke softly.

He trailed his hand down to softly rest it on your stomach. A water smile spread across your face.

“You’re going to have to do a lot of the parenting alone. So I’ll understand if you want to leave me to find the baby a father that will be there to help you. Otherwise, I’m with you all the way.”

You brought your gaze to his, searching his eyes for jokes or laughter. Finding none, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to you.

“Our baby could have no better father than you,” you whispered softly.

He pressed his lips delicately to yours, drawing you in closer and holding you against him.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Both of you.”

[the-purity-pen]

PTC: part v

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader

gif by @pascalsky

Word Count: 2,312

Rating: PG

Warnings: sweet moments, little bit of angst.

A/N: here’s the next part! some reveals. did you guess correctly? @creativekat and i are having a blast writing this and we really do love this story and these characters!

Series Masterlist

You looked around the large rented ballroom and shook your head nervously. You had brought up the idea of taking the kids out on field trips to facilitate their learning and the Heroics school board had decided to hold a fundraiser to help take this from an idea to reality. You hadn’t imagined that they might opt to raise said funds by auctioning off dates with the Heroics themselves. Since the event would be opened to the public, it couldn’t be held at HQ (a logistical nightmare) so a local Events Center had been the next best option. Now, as you watched the room beginning to fill with people you could see why. This was, apparently, the event of the century. 

Soft classical music was being piped in from speakers in the corners of the room as people mingled, getting drinks from the bar. Your students were all wearing black outfits and acting as greeters and coat-checkers so the gathering masses would see just who their money would be helping. You quickly realized, for some here, it wouldn’t matter where the money was going. A night on the town with one of the Heroics was a hot commodity. 

Glancing over at Marcus, surrounded by half a dozen women, you understood the appeal. The urge to go over and rescue him from his adoring fans was strong, but you couldn’t do that. For one thing, as the teacher of his daughter and the other Heroics’ kids it was inappropriate. For another thing, you’d spotted your brother in the crowd and you just knew he’d have an opinion on your feelings for Marcus Moreno and you just didn’t want to hear it. 

Wearing a suit and tie was really nothing new but wearing it that evening made Marcus super uncomfortable. Not that the women who were flocked to him would have complained. A few of them tried chatting him up casually but there were a few making comments about what their ideal date night would consist of. One of them even tried slipping him actual cash to try to rig the auction.

Marcus shook his head with a forced polite smile as he got more uncomfortable until his gaze looked out and found you. “Ladies, I have to go do my part in helping set up,” he explained with a slight lie as he gently pushed through them and walked over to you. His smile changed from forced to nervous as he approached you and leaned in to speak to you.

“What else is left to set up? Please tell me there’s something so I can keep myself busy,” he added with a soft chuckle as his eyes did a very quick, brief scan over your scan to take in your outfit. “You look beautiful by the way,” he commented quietly as he attempted a smile at you.

At his compliment you couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your face. You didn’t feel beautiful most of the time. Cute, sure. But beautiful? No.  But, if Marcus Moreno was saying it maybe you needed to believe it. You shook off the exhilaration of the moment to focus on what he was asking. “Ummm, do you want to add the raspberry sorbet to the punch?” 

The two of you walked to the end of the table where several pints of fruit-flavored frozen goodness had been softening and you handed him an ice cream scoop with a smile, “Thank you.” You giggled before adding quietly, “You look really good yourself. I’m sure you’ll bring in a lot of money.” You were surprised when Marcus blushed. A little thrill shocked your spine realizing you were the cause. 

Missy cleared her throat getting the attention of you and her father, “We’re done getting all the coats hung up. We were wondering if we could get some snacks?” Marcus looked at you for the answer since you were the one in charge for this event. Nodding, you said, “You guys have done more than enough. You’ve earned a break.”

As she walked away, Marcus leaned closer, asking, “Are you going to bid on me?” His smile nearly melted you.

With a nervous laugh, you replied, “I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Marcus’ brows knit together in a frown as he scooped some of the sorbet into the punch bowl, watching it fizz as the softened dessert melted more into the liquid.

“Why’s that?” he asked, trying to conceal the slight disappointment in his voice. He was excited to participate in something that would help raise money for Missy and her friends and the school but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t see this as an opportunity to finally have you on a date night with him.

Just then, a clearing of a throat and a slap to Marcus’ shoulder caused both of your attention to break from one another. “Well, well, well,” Miracle Guy’s voice broke your concentration on Marcus and caused you to turn to look at him. You forced a smile as the blond male continued talking, “Looks like we’ll be in some pretty heavy competition tonight huh Marcus?” 

The question seemed playful in nature but Marcus, and you, knew better. Any chance that Steven could show up Marcus, he would absolutely try to. You shook your head slightly and went to the other end of the table, suddenly feeling tension in your shoulders. 

You absent-mindedly straightened a stack of napkins that were already pristine and watched as the two men finished their conversation. Was it too much to hope Steven wouldn’t press the subject with you? You watched as Marcus handled the other Heroic smoothly, then Miracle Guy, also known as your older brother Steven, approached you. Again, you molded a wobbly smile onto your face. 

“How’ve you been?” The question was ignored as Steve glanced around before casting his imperious gaze on you. 

“So, are you and Marcus Moreno going out now?” He said the other man’s name through clenched teeth. 

With a shrug you replied, “No. What gave you that idea? Why would you think that?” Inwardly you cringed. You were never very good at hiding your feelings.

Steven picked up a small plate and helped himself to a couple slices of cheese, “I overheard the kids talking. Wheels seemed to think you were interested.” He popped some gouda into his mouth and then, “I just don’t want you to get hurt… and getting your hopes up that a Heroic like Marcus would… well, I’m just worried he’ll get bored, that’s all. I’m looking out for you.” 

You scoffed. The way your fists clenched around the napkin you were currently holding, crumpling it should have been a sign that you wanted to punch your brother for being so rude. The guy hadn’t even had a serious relationship and yet he still managed to have a son by a woman he so-called loved. What did he know about love or relationships or even what it was like to be with you in a relationship? He had no right.

His name was called across the room and he gave you a pitiful smile. Your nostrils flared, trying to calm yourself before Miranda came up to remind you that it was just about time to start. You nodded, thankful that she had broken your frustration towards your brother. You walked with her towards one of the front tables as she kept walking to get onto the stage and welcome everyone to the event.

Marcus had watched as you and Miracle Guy talked, narrowing his eyes when you clearly got agitated. But, then Miranda had interrupted and the blonde hero had walked toward the stage. He yearned to go to you and take your hand, to make sure you were okay, but the event was starting and he had to join the other Heroics at the table reserved for them. 

Miranda introduced the emcee for the evening, a local newscaster, and joined you at your table while the rules of the date auction were explained. Reaching across the table, she grabbed an open bottle of red wine pouring two glasses, “You look like you could use a drink.” She knew your family history, since she’d been on the interview committee when you’d gotten hired and you appreciated her support now. 

Taking the glass, you smiled, “I shouldn’t let him get to me. I’ll be fine.” You glanced over at the Heroics table and saw Marcus looking at you. He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile in return, your heart fluttering in your chest. Your attention was again diverted when you heard the emcee announcing that Miracle Guy had pulled in $870 for the school and then Marcus’ name was being announced. Your stomach turned while the women around you all cheered wildly. You felt jealous of whoever won this date and watched Marcus walk up to the stage. 

Marcus fiddled with his tie as he made his way onto the stage. His face felt hot even before he stepped under the hot stage lights. The cheering and hollering didn’t quiet down until the emcee shushed the crowd at least four more times. Marcus was smiling but he felt his palms get a bit sweaty. For a man who was constantly in the news saving the world, being in front of a crowd to be auctioned off for a date seemed to make him nervous.

His eyes squinted as he adjusted to the light and when he scanned the room, his eyes landed on you for a long moment. His breath caught in his throat, secretly hoping that you would bet on a date with him. Everything in his mind was trying to telepathically tell you to bid.

The emcee barely got his words out to start the bidding before the first few hands rose up, shouting $100, then $150 and $200 in rapid succession. There was a murmur of giggles and whistles as the emcee shouted out the bid numbers and kept trying to explain what a date night with Marcus would entail.

Your eyes couldn’t leave Marcus even after he had caught your gaze a few times. Your heart was hammering as you thought about the real possibility of someone else going on a date with him. The bids had gotten up to $700 and it was down to two people. Both of the women in question had been acting especially thirsty when talking to Marcus earlier. 

Throwing caution to the wind, you raised your hand, “$750!” Every eye in the room seemed to turn in your direction with varying reactions. Miranda’s eyebrows shot up, but she grinned at you. The two other bidders glared in your direction. Your students all shared happy grins (especially Missy and Wheels). Steven looked disappointed and aggrieved. But, the only person who mattered to you in that moment was Marcus and he looked relieved and happy, a wide grin forming on his face. 

There was some more bidding back and forth while you did math in your head trying to figure out how much you could actually afford. You really didn’t want to lose this. Finally, you bid $1390 and everyone in the room waited to see if either of the other two women would raise the stakes yet again. Finally, the emcee announced, “At $1390, the highest bid of the night so far, a date with Marcus Moreno to the lady at Table 4!” 

Breathlessly you leaned back in your seat then gasped, “Oh my God… what did I do?” Marcus was just as breathless as he heard the applause and watched your face as he finally stepped down from the stage.

As he approached your table all eyes were on him and subsequently, you. He stood in front of you, towering over your sitting frame and you audibly gulped at the impressive broadness of him. "So a date it is," he said quietly as he sat down in the chair next to you.

His heart was hammering as he placed his hand over yours and patted it gently before looking back to the stage to see Mrs. Vox coming onto the stage to be bid on.

Off to the side, Steven was furrowing his brow at you and Marcus, trying to see if he could study what your lips were saying to each other. His nostrils flared slightly as seeing how relaxed and comfortable Marcus was around you. Almost as if you had been together already.

You could feel your brother’s eyes on you, and you were sure he suspected you’d lied to him about your relationship with Marcus earlier, but you ignored his glares. You had bigger things to worry about right now. Like the fact that you’d just paid an overwhelming amount of money to go on a date with the parent of one of your students. You’d never crossed the line like that before and the fact that you’d done it this time had you reeling. 

Not to mention the fact that he was a Heroic!  Growing up powerless in a family full of superpowered people had always made you feel like an outsider in your own home. And they hadn’t done anything to dissuade you of that notion. If anything they’d made it worse, amplifying the sense of inadequacy you’d experienced. 

Glancing over at Missy, who was trying to hide an enormous grin, you remembered the talk you’d had with Marcus at the Parent/Teacher Conference. She was, essentially in the same place you’d been back then. But, Marcus made her feel loved and accepted for who she was. As you moved your gaze away from your students your eyes met Steven’s and you gave him a determined tilt of your chin before turning back to Marcus. 

Leaning forward you whispered, “I can’t wait.” Then kissed him on the cheek.

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[chibamari]

Sun-kissed

Fandom: Tears of Themis Pairing(s): Artem Wing x Laura (OC), Marius von Hagen x Kisa Ryujin (OC) Word Count: ca. 1900 Warnings: fluff, slow-burn, slight angst Author’s Notes: A little something for my dearest @iluvsexyvoltageguys and a big thank you to the lovely @janumun for proofreading <3

Every normal person would enjoy a day at the beach, especially on a day like this. It was warm, but not uncomfortably so, a soft breeze blowing across the rarely-visited beach that was only a 30 minute car-ride from Stellis.

‘How did we end up here again...?’, Artem thought, not as happy as an overworked top attorney on his day off should be.  “Oi, Mister attorney, don’t you think it’s time to take off that shirt? I’m starting to sweat just looking at you!” Right, at was the company, or rather, the dark-haired brat who was lounging on the towel next to him, rummaging through his bag. “Or do you wanna miss the chance of asking Laura to put sunscreen on you?”, Artem could feel Marius’ smirk, even though he wasn’t directly looking at him.

Dismissing the question with an annoyed ‘tch’, he turned his gaze towards said woman - Laura. His new subordinate whom he had hired a few weeks ago, and whom he was planning to promote soon. Not only at Themis, but there was the pending decision of whether he would offer her to join NXX; a decision that was not to be taken lightly, however, the more he got to know her, the more confident he grew that she would make an excellent addition to the team. Beside her there was another girl that Luke was keeping an eye on, someone in his Martial Arts Club apparently, who was to meet Vyn in a couple of days for her assessment.

Laura and her best friend and roommate Kisa were leaning on the counter of the beach bar, waiting for their orders. Only when Laura turned around and gave Artem a soft smile did he realize that he had been staring at her. “Heh, the tips of your ears are red. Did you already get sunburned or is there...”, Marius shifted his gaze to Laura “...Maybe a different reason?” “Why would I even talk to you about this?” “Aw, come on, don’t be so harsh! Even if I tease you about it, I do think you and Laura would make a great couple. But you gotta do something if you want something to happen.”, Marius patted Artems shoulder in a sympathetic way, which only elicited a raised eyebrow from the dark-haired man. “Just watch, I’ll help! Hey Laura!”

The two women were returning, four drinks in their hands. Kisa put her beer in the small cooling box before darting into the ocean and a quick ‘see ya later!’. “What’s up?”, Laura plopped down next to Artem, the drink making a ‘zish’ when she opened it. Cocktails in a can, best invention ever. “Artem is refusing to apply sunscreen, he thinks that shirt is enough protection. Will you please talk some sense into him?”, Laura didn’t pay attention to the shit-eating grin that now grazed Marius’ handsome face, but turned to her superior with what could almost be interpreted as an angry look. “Okay look, this is not debatable, you have such nice skin, and we aren’t even in the shadows right now. Turn around and let me do your back.” “It’s really fine, I-” “Don’t argue with me.”, Laura answered in a manner that left no room for discussion. “Take off your shirt.” A cheeky whistle came from Marius’ direction, earning him nothing but a glare from Artem, who now said with his back towards Laura in nothing but his swimming trunks.

“Is that the bartender who’s in the water with Kisa?”, Artem asked aloud and Laura looked at the ocean. “Oh him! Yea, they have actually met before! He lives nearby, so-”, before she could finish her sentence Marius was already on his way towards the water and after a few moments the raven-haired man starts to chuckle, the corners of his sapphire eyes crinkling “...He is so easy to read when it comes to her.” “I think he’d be just right for her, but…” “But what?” “Nothing. I’m sorry, that’s not for me to tell. Your presence just makes me feel at ease you know.” Artem stiffened at her words that came so naturally, thankful that she couldn’t see his face, absolutely certain that a deep blush colored his cheeks. No one has ever said this to him, and to hear them from her was… He couldn’t handle it at the moment.

“Okay, let me put sunscreen on you now.”, Artem heard the bottle spraying, and a moment later he felt her cool hands on his back. He shivered at the contact, electricity racing through his body as her hands started to spread the sunscreen. A small gasp escaping him, too quiet for Laura to hear. Thankfully. “Heh, sorry that must have been a bit cold.” “That’s not-... It’s fine, uhm… thank you.”, Mustering every bit of self-control that he had, he managed to stay still while Laura massaged the sunscreen into his skin. It was all good as long as it was only his back. It was fine. He could survive this. He had amazing self-control, surely he could handle a few seconds.

He was wrong. And he knew when the brunette's hands moved downwards. applying the sunscreen on his sides, her nails accidentally scraping his skin. “Haahh-!”. his entire body jerked up “Are you ticklish?”, Laura asked, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. “Uhm- Yes, please don’t… touch me there.”, at this point he didn’t know whether he wanted this moment to end as quickly as possible or to last for eternity. What Artem couldn’t see was Laura's own expression, which by far not as relaxed as the tone of her voice would suggest; her hands lingering just a few seconds longer, when she disengaged her action.

“There, all done!”, she shifted awkwardly to try and hide her face “Thank you… Uhm, do you want me to do yours too?”, Artem had no idea how he even mustered the courage to ask this question, but now there was no taking it back. “Uhm-... Yes, that would be nice. Hold on, let me unhook the clasp!” ‘Oh no…’, Artem swallowed audibly when the woman of his dreams positioned herself in front of him, presenting her beautiful, slender back only for his eyes to see. How long has he been wanting to touch her, explore every inch of her skin, kiss her and drown in her… All these urges, completely unexplored for the 29-year old man, overcame him like waves crashing at the shore. Further and further, beautifully gentle but powerful at the same time. Steady, almost predictable, though their first encounter and everything that followed was anything but. All the late-night talks about work, accompanied by the scent of strong coffee and the smile that at some point he started longing to see every single day. And now, in the golden light of the warm sun, she was before him and it took everything in him to not get too close. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable. To do something she didn’t want. Go too far. After all, he didn’t know how she felt about him… But heavens, how would he ever know if he didn’t- Hold up, was he about to follow that brats advice!?

“Artem, are you okay?”, Laura’s voice snapped him out of it. “Huh? Oh, yes, sorry…”, Artem started to spray sunscreen on her, as his breathing became just a bit more unsteady with each passing moment. He took a deep breath before his hands touched her skin, and his own burned. Forcing himself to keep his composure, he started to rub the lotion across her back, feeling a knot of arousal in his… nether regions. ‘You idiot, show her you like her, do SOMETHING!’, his inner devil yelled at him as he fought his primal instincts to simply envelop her from behind and let his hands do the rest. He compromised on something else, as his face inched closer towards her neck. Closer and closer. If minutes or mere seconds passed, Artem couldn’t tell, he was pulled towards her like a magnet. Hot breath on her skin let goosebumps spread over Laura’s body, her breath quickening, resulting in a high-pitched moan when Artem’s soft, curious lips finally connected with her skin. The sensations flooded his mind, leaving him in nothing but a haze as he enjoyed the taste of her, a mix of sunscreen, sweat and something that was her very own. Whiffs of the scent of her shampoo cocooned his nostrils; her skin was so warm, so incredibly soft. Completely out of his own control his hands gently grabbed her shoulders before gently caressing down her arms. “Artem-!”, Laura was barely able to contain her excitement, a sharp intake of breath disrupting Artem. “Oh my… I’m- I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, but-” “No! I mean… I like it. Don’t… don’t stop there, please… I’ve wanted this for much longer than you think.” Spurred on by her raw honesty, her vulnerability in that moment, Artem turned her around, her gaze directly meeting his. Her cheeks rosé, her lips parted and her hazel eyes full of yearning stole all reason that was left in him. Drinking in the sight of her, this picture-perfect moment in which his wishful thinking became reality, he engraved it into his mind, so that it would never leave him. A few moments passed before Artem gently took her hands in his, his thumb stroking her soft skin. “Laura, I… I’m not really good at this, and I’ve been thinking about when, or even if to tell you but-... I can’t seem to keep my wits around you.” “You’re not the only one who feels that way...”, the shade of her rosé cheeks growing darker, Laura turned her gaze from him, a shyness very atypical for her usual demeanor. “Look at me… I… I want to be with you. Will you let me?” The young woman smiled at the man in front of her, squeezing his trembling hands. She lightly lifted herself up to be on his eye-level and within a moment their lips connected for the first time. 

Artem’s eyes widened, but after a second or two he regained his composure just enough to react, leaning into the kiss. It was a chaste, gentle kiss, full of the unspoken feelings that have accumulated over the past few weeks and months, threatening to overwhelm them both. But this was not the time. Artem smiled into the kiss before he slowly disengaged, pressing his forehead to hers, as they both savoured this moment as the sun started to set. Meanwhile in the ocean. “My god… did you just see that!?”, Kisa squealed with excitement, full on having witnessed their kiss. “Was about time, don’t you think?”, Marius grinned, knowing, or rather thinking that this was his victory. “Brings back memories, huh?” Kisa raised her eyebrow at the statement. A memory she forced herself to forget, of a lonely night in a new city, where she met a handsome stranger at an art gallery, both intoxicated by one another, fitting together like two pieces of a whole. One night… a single, unforgettable night. “I told you already… I don’t remember.”, she lied.

[harcourtholmesii]

Letters of Thanks

Fandoms: MCU / Avengers

Pairings: Slight / Referenced Thor X Bruce

Warnings: - References to Violence

Words: 2954

Please don’t expect this to be perfect writing. I tried, but as much as I do love the MCU, I am not great at writing their characters.

Enjoy!

Fan mail.

 Care packages.

 Letters of gratitude.

 The penthouse floors of Stark Tower were overrun with them. After the Battle for New York, everyone and their uncle seemed keen to say their piece and write something special to the Avengers.

 Since Bruce, Thor and Steve had nowhere else to go, the general populace had come to the correct conclusion that they could send their letters to Tony Stark’s letterbox. Since his address was public knowledge and since the defeat of the Chitauri, his home had been flooded with paper and cardboard boxes.

 Sorting through it all had been a hassle.

 With Thor off-world, the secret agents off on their respective missions and Rogers having left for his tour of America, it was left up to Tony and Bruce to sort through it all. It was a momentous task, but it was a welcome distraction.

 Over time, the piles continued to grow.

 Seven piles in total.

 Tony had, by far, the largest amount of letters written to him. They created an unsteady mountain range across his personal study, threatening to topple and fall if it weren’t for Tony’s effort to read them all.

 As quickly as they grew, they shrank. Tony read through his mail quickly and with fervour. Some nights, Bruce, Pepper and Happy had been unable to convince him to sleep. Some nights, he would spend researching the person behind the letter, and send care packages of his own to those who had written him.

 Unlike the majority of the other Avengers, Tony managed himself well. Even though most of it was kind or complimentary, there were those that expressed their disdain or their upset. When it got particularly bad, Bruce could see how it all weighed down on the man. He would wave away Pepper’s worry, and Bruce’s own concerns, with his usual snarky attitude, but it was obvious to all of them that he was most affected by those he couldn’t help.

 Steve’s pile was mostly complimentary. The younger authors tended to keep their letters short, with questions about him and where he had been. How was he alive after so long? Did he know about the moon landing? Had he seen Blade Runner? Most of the letters went from serious to curious in the span of a paragraph, but Steve had been no less flattered.

 Some letters were from older veterans or soldiers who cited him as their inspiration for joining the military. There were those that mentioned how their parents or grandparents had met him those seventy years ago, and how it was a piece of family history they loved to share.

 Steve handled them well for the most part, but he rarely went out of his way to answer them all. With his new career path at SHIELD, Steve only narrowed down his responses to those he felt were ‘genuine’. Specifically, those that asked less questions about what he did or did not know about the future, and those that seemed to take the Battle for New York as a serious, potential threat.

 Much like Tony, Thor’s pile was one of the larger ones, and it grew at a rapid pace from the start. A lot of the mail he received were care packages, cardboard boxes filled with everything from chocolates to alcohol, and other tokens of affection. Thor had been astounded when he first returned to Earth; his room, as large and royal as Tony could make it, housed a mountain of parcels and parchment awaiting his notice.

 He had spent overnight opening as many as possible and reading as much as he could. Some of the language and plenty of the references used caused him a great deal of confusion, and he would seek out Bruce for help. Too many of the letters, though very sweet and thankful, contained phone numbers or an Instagram link. Bruce had caught on quickly; a good portion of these were men, women and others of all types, were hopeless romantics, seeking the God of Thunder’s attention.

 No matter the intention or the person who had written the letter, Thor tasked himself with responding to each and every one. However, at the rate the pile was growing, and with Thor’s admittance that he wasn’t much a scholar, Bruce and Tony were roped into helping him in his quest. He wrote back, and had Tony show him how Facebook, Twitter and Instagram worked so he could publish quick responses online.

 Bruce helped him with those that didn’t leave behind online addresses or phone numbers, and wrote back what Thor asked him to write. Though, before each parchment was shipped off, Thor would be sure to sign it himself.

 The fourth and fifth piles were small by comparison; the both of them for Clint and Natasha. Without any idea where else to send them, the majority of these letters were quick and to the point. Short and simple. The writers would express their gratitude, perhaps explain their reasons for sending the letter, and then end the short paragraph.

 To Clint and Natasha, these were perfect. They couldn’t easily respond to them, as much as they wished to, so they kept them close instead. Natasha filed hers away in her room at Stark Tower, and Clint had sent his away. He didn’t mention where, just that they would be safe.

 It was fair that the master assassin wanted to keep it secret.

 Then, there was the general pile for all of the Avengers team. Most of these were sent by families and young children, from crayon sketches to some baked goods. The team, especially Thor and Clint were ecstatic with these ones in particular.

 They came together to read them, as difficult as that was. They would read out a single letter to the rest; they might have a slight chuckle and smiles would light up all their faces as they heard the praise. None of the mail addressed to the Avengers was negative, as it seemed any criticism was left to the specific ‘hero’.

 The smallest pile by far, belonged to Bruce Banner. Only a few letters had been delivered that were addressed specifically to him, and unlike the others, Bruce had avoided opening them. When Natasha asked him about his letters, he would say he would ‘get around to it’, and she would leave it alone for a while, disbelieving his statement.

 Thor asked him about it the most, always curious and always keen to hear what people had to say about the ‘second strongest’ Avenger. Bruce would just smile, already a little bashful under the other’s excitable gaze and warm touches.

 ‘I haven’t read them yet.’

 ‘You should!’ Large hands would take hold of Bruce’s own and he would be spun around so the other could look at him face-to-face. ‘There is much they have to say to you, and I am sure much of it is kind.’

 Bruce would just shrug his words away, very aware that the other would only try to see the best in him. He hadn’t been around when Hulk had first destroyed New York, and what the God had witnessed on the helicarrier had been next to nothing in the amount of damage the Hulk had caused. They had been lucky.

 Unlike the rest, Tony, though encouraging, didn’t pressure him to read the letters. He knew of Bruce’s fear, and though he found a way to bring it up subtly in conversation, he never demanded the meek scientist open his mail.

 Finally, they came up with an idea.

 ‘Big mean and green.’ Where Bruce had been hovering over the coffee pot, he clicked his jaw in annoyance, and turned his tired eyes over to the lounge. His teammates were all sat on the half-circle sofa, with a small pile of recognisable letters in the middle. He swallowed thickly around the nervous lump in his throat, and tried to laugh away his worry.

 ‘What is this? An intervention?’

 ‘Sort of.’ Clint said, offering him a polite smile. It seemed Clint and Steve, in particular, were both nervous about this. Then why participate?

 ‘We just wanna help try and release some tension here.’ Tony stated, gesturing to the pile. ‘It is no surprise to us, Bruce, you can’t stand to look at this. But you don’t have the heart to throw it all away.’

 Bruce’s eyes fell to the coffee he now nursed in his hands.

 ‘We don’t want to make you uncomfortable.’ Steve chimed in. ‘But… Well, we don’t want you to run yourself into the ground because you’re scared of what people have to say.’

 ‘I’m not scared. I just know what I would see, and I do not need more confirmation that I am a monster.’

 ‘No!’ Thor’s voice bellowed, and he was standing in an instant. He was by Bruce’s side in a mere moment and gently nudging him (as gentle as Thor could manage) towards the lounge. ‘You do not understand, Banner! We believe that these are all letters of gratitude towards you, and rather than you think the worst, we want to disprove your claim.’

 ‘Yes… Well…’ Bruce’s eyes landed on the pile in front of him. He didn’t find SHIELD as frightening as he had expected when he had first met Natasha. He had not been as overcome with fear when he had first seen the Chitauri. But this small, seemingly trivial pile of notes… The words of an everyday person that he had hurt scared him more than anything.

 ‘If you don’t mind it, we came up with a simple system. Nothing too bad, we hope, but just so we might ease your fears a little.’ Tony said, reaching and digging around in the pile for a moment.

 After a bit of shuffling about, he pulled out a small, pastel pink card, showing it to Bruce.

 ‘We just want you to know that you don’t have to be worried about this. We came up with this plan-’

 ‘Tony came up with a plan.’ Natasha interrupted.

 ‘- That we will each read out one letter to you. One random letter. And we’ll all be here in case you want to take a break or if you need to just…’

 ‘Talk.’ Steve finished.

 And just like that, Clint, Steve, Natasha and Thor reached into the pile.

 Clint pulled one, exceptionally thick, envelope from the top; perfectly pristine, well-kept, with ‘Bruce Banner’ written in fine, royal blue cursive.

 Natasha dug her hand deep into the pile until she pulled her hand away with a large, but thin, green folder. On the front, it read Bruce’s name in a collage of cut-out, magazine letters.

 Steve removed a small parcel from the pile, wrapped in dirty brown paper with a green ribbon around it. There was the sound of something gently rattling against the inside as Steve moved.

 Thor pulled one letter from the pile which had a large, child’s drawing on the back. Evidently, it was of a large, green figure holding what looked like a yellow car in his hands and roaring. Bruce did not look too keen.

 It was Clint that opened his letter first and had begun to read.

 “Dear Doctor Banner,

 You may not recall me well, but my name is Lucille Davidson. We studied together for a period in college, and I would like to consider us friends, or at the very least, acquaintances.

 You’re work in nuclear physics is astounding, and I have, for years now, have wanted to address your papers and reports of your studies.  I have never had the chance, as I had thought you dead after your disappearance.

 Imagine my surprise and delight when I saw you on the news. Well, not you exactly, but to then have it confirmed to be you in the interview following the events, I was not only relieved but I was over the moon. Hearing you would be staying with Mister Stark for the time being, I wrote to you immediately, and I do hope this has found its way.

 I wanted to just say how I am not only inspired by your work, but I wish that we could sit together for coffee and go over our theories on anti-electron collisions…”

 By this point, Clint started to look a little lost. He raised his eyes from the paper, with an apologetic expression and a half smile.

 ‘Sorry, but I can’t understand this kind of science jargon. I am not an expert on thermonuclear… anything… Whatever this person is attempting to say, it seems…’ He turned the paper over, and glanced at the other papers. ‘Yeah… They appear to have sent you a full thesis on whatever this is…’

 He passed it across to Bruce, who seemed shocked still. The coffee cup was retrieved from his hands by Tony, in case he should drop it, and placed on the coffee table. Bruce took the papers with shaking hands and read over that first part again and again, almost in disbelief. The worry in his face had lessened slightly, as he placed the essay down and looked up when Steve cleared his throat.

 ‘There isn’t, uh… There’s only a small card here, apart from the parcel. And it reads ‘to Bruce Banner and to Hulk. Thank you!” He passed the card and parcel over, so Bruce could open it.

 He did so slowly, hesitantly, with the movements of a man disarming a bomb. Once the ribbon was undone and the tape removed, the brown paper fell apart in his hands, revealing a plastic container. Through the clear plastic there was a small pile of about eight cookies, all of them, though a little smudged, decorated to look like the Hulk’s face.

 There was a chortle from Tony, and a guffaw from Thor as the God landed a hard smack to Bruce’s back. It hurt, but Bruce just smiled down at the strange but lovely gift. There was no return address or signature, which seemed a little disappointing.

 “To Mister Banner.” Tony started, a sly, cattish grin on his face. Bruce could already feel his own face going red. He raised his hands to his face in a terrible attempt to hide his embarrassment as Tony continued to read with some level of theatrical exaggeration.

 “I will admit, I’m a little embarrassed to write this, but I just needed to get my feelings down onto paper. I was working during the Battle for New York and we met very briefly. Well, you were Hulk at the time, but still… You saved my life. I was about to be killed by one of those weird, alien creatures when you crushed them beneath your fists. And I couldn’t help but salivate…” There was a muttered, embarrassed groan from Bruce as he snatched the letter out of Tony’s hand. The billionaire and the others shared a laugh as Bruce continued to read the letter.

 Indeed, it was just a little scandalous, and as flattering as it was… He quietly tucked it away in his pants pocket, not willing to discuss it at this time. That was fair, and none of the other’s held that against him.

 Natasha opened her own folder, her face brighter than Bruce had ever seen it. She showed it off like she was doing a presentation, opening the folder wide and reading it out. There were only two pages to it, the first with an image of a small building with a mural on one of its walls.

 The mural showcased the Hulk with his hands raised as if holding up the roof of the building. Beneath him, as if a shadow that stood before him, was a silhouette of Bruce doing the same pose. Beneath it, written in bright lettering with all kinds of little pictures, was the message:

 ‘To Doctor Banner and the Hulk, the heroes that saved our daycare and the children therein.’ The second page was a collage of parents and staff thanking him and the Hulk alike, with little signatures and drawings from the children.

 Natasha passed it over to him, and Bruce clutched it close, feeling himself near brought to tears.

 Thor didn’t read out the letter he had plucked out of the pile, but passed it to Bruce all the same. It was difficult to read, as it was a scribble of a child’s writing. Only the address was clearly stamped out, presumably by a parent.

 ‘Thank you Mister Hulk. You saved mommy and daddy from the monsters. I want to be a hero like you when I’m grown up. Could you teach me to be strong like you? From Markus’

 Turning the paper over to look over the image again, Bruce could now make out the scratchy faces of two people in the yellow car. At first, he thought they were screaming, but when he was able to make out the black line of a speech bubble amongst the dark blue crayon, he could read they were yelling ‘YAY!’

 ‘How cute.’ Natasha hummed.

 ‘That ought to go onto the fridge.’ Tony agreed.

 Bruce shifted in his seat, wiping beneath his glasses with his sleeve. A hand on his shoulder, warm and comforting, brought his eyes up to look at the Thor.

 ‘Would Banner like some time alone? To read and look through his gifts?’

 Despite what he had read, Bruce did not ask them to leave. In fact, he snuggled deeper into the lounge as he plucked one letter from the pile. The others didn’t mind being asked to stay. In fact, to them, it was a relief to see the doctor express anything other than worry or discomfort, and a joy to watch his face break into a smile.

[world-of-aus]

Behind the Screen - (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5,412

Warnings: smut 18+

Author’s Note: First chapter guys, i had a lot of fun writing this, and i hope you all enjoy this first chapter. Smut is also not my forte, but i like to try new things so i hope i did it justice lol. If y’all would like to be added to the tag-list for future chapters, or taken off please send me a message! Feedback is always appreciated in anyway, so let me know what you think, let me know your thoughts what your expecting! Thank you for reading!

SERIES MASTERLIST

“Hey Wilson, you seen y/n?” Bucky questioned from his spot on the couch.

Sam shook his head, “Yeah earlier, she said she had something to do real quick before she was going to join us, shouldn’t be long.”

“Wasn’t that like 30 minutes ago?” Steve spoke up.

Sam shrugged his shoulder his eyes not leaving the TV screen, “I don’t know man, if y’all are so worried why don’t you send Tin Man to go find her.”

Bucky mulled it over before he was pushing up from the lounger, “where you going Buck?” Steve called out over his shoulder as Bucky retreated from the room.

Bucky didn’t bother with a reply, they all knew he was going to get you.

You were perched on your bed laptop in hand, your fingers working over your latest post the white glare from the computer illuminating your features. You couldn’t wait to get this new post out; your newest work had your readers begging for more, there just wasn’t enough time in your day to crunch out the words that bounced around in your mind. Recently your readers had begun to get antsy with you especially behind “anon”, there was many coming after you for not writing Bucky to the best of your ability. How did they expect you to give them your best work when you didn’t know how the man was in bed? It’s not like you could confront your teammate and ask him to help you write fanfiction about him and how he pleases women in bed.

I mean imagine the conversation,

“Hey Buck so you might not know this about me, but I write fanfiction,” awkward pause, “about you, and well do you think you could maybe guide me through it?”

You scoffed rolling your eyes at your inner dialogue, you stared at the blank white screen the cursor blinking at you, waiting. Your fingers hovered over the board, but your mind was drawing blanks, the words were there not even a minute ago, how did you lose them so quickly. You groaned pushing the laptop to the side, maybe it was time to go join the others, it had been a little over thirty minutes since you had told them you would return. Deciding you needed the break from the screen you pushed yourself from the bed making your way to your bathroom to freshen up.

Bucky walked the quiet hallways passing the other team's quarters before he finally came across yours. Bucky never bothered knocking, if he reached for the door handle and it wasn’t locked, he would just let himself in. Entering your room, he saw no sign of you except for your lone laptop that he had recently seen you glued to. He wasn’t sure what had you so entranced to the screen, but at the same time he understood it could possibly be a hobby that you were working on, especially during down time from missions or training. He looked around your quarters and noticed the sliver of light peeking from the bottom of your bathroom. Deciding to wait for you, he walked over to your bed plopping himself on the cushioned comforter. He reached for you laptop to see if he could get a peek at what had you glued to the device, and a peek he got. His cheeks were flamed rosy, his pants suddenly feeling a little tighter, while he wasn’t sure what to think, he was tickled pink at the words he read. So, this is what you did on your past time. He looked over the browser, his brows scrunched in confusion, what was Tumblr?

“Barnes what are you doing with my laptop?!”

Bucky looked up from the screen eyes blown wide matching yours, “Uh, I could ask you the same.” he murmured turning your screen to you.

Your heart dropped into the depths of your stomach, face going deathly pale, oh god, oh god, he knew, gathering your bearings you lurched forward lunging for the laptop in his hands. Bucky ducked out of your way falling back into your pillows laptop still clutched in his grip. You crawled half on top of him, “Goddamnit Barnes, give me my laptop back!” you growled.

He continued to dodge your attempts at grabbing your possession, “not until you explain what this is.” he grunted, his metal appendage pushing at your head.

“There is nothing to explain,” you hissed, “now give me the damn thing!”

You continued to claw your way up his body, though for every inch you climbed you were quickly scooted down by the cool metal pushing at your head.

“Nothing to explain?” he questioned, “I think there’s a lot to explain, like what the hell is Tumblr, and why are there people writing about me and some person named “y/n” he grunted “did you just bite my finger?” he questioned eyes glaring at you.

Your movements stalled, “Oh I'm sorry, I didn’t realize your vibranium hand had any feeling.” you deadpanned.

Your eyes caught the moment Bucky’s form began to fall, being a trained assassin had come in handy, taking your chance you lunged forward getting a grip on the laptop. Bucky grunted at the awkward position, “Jesus Christ,” he grunted, “what the fuck, ow!” he growled, “fucking hell y/n!” Bucky being stronger than you pulled the laptop from your measly grip flinging It to the side as he pushed you onto your bed, his frame covering yours, “would you stop fucking squirming, if it was nothing why are you putting up such a fight,” he grunted catching your swinging hands in his, pushing them down into the bed.

“I'm putting up a fight because you were going through my personal things, ever heard of the word privacy nosey ass” you hissed glaring at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes at you continuing to push your frame down into the bed, maybe you could use this as a future reference.

“Now that you’ve stopped squirming maybe we could actually have a conversation.” he murmured looking down at you.

Dread filled you again, “There’s nothing to talk about Bucky, at least nothing I want to talk about with you,” you groaned, “will you please just leave it alone.”

“I won’t leave it alone, I think I deserve an explanation,” he voiced, “you either tell me what I want to know or we can be like this all night.” he grunted applying more weight onto yours. Jesus, you could really use this as a reference but you weren't sure how to describe “Dead weight” would that even be considered sexy, you weren’t sure it would have your readers on the edge of their seats thighs clenched, cheeks rosy, giggling behind their phones, as they read your latest post.

“y/n, doll!” he muttered snapping his fingers in front of your dazed face.

You knew there was no getting out of this, there was definitely no denying what he had seen, possibly read. God what had you even written, how much had he seen. You knew this wasn’t going to end good, “what do you want to know?” you murmured, eyes not meeting his.

“what’s Tumblr?”

You sighed, you were really going to do this, you’re already in the rabbit hole, might as well keeping digging yourself further. “Tumblr is a blog site, users can post different types of media on it, they post videos, pictures, written posts - ”

“is that what you do?” he questioned cutting you off.

You groaned cheeks turning pink in embarrassment, “Yes buck, can you please get off me, please,” you murmured.

“who’s x reader, also who’s y/n, do I know them, because I don’t recall doing any of what i read with them.”

Your eyes slipped shut, oh god you couldn’t breathe, you prayed that a hole would open up beneath you and swallow you whole, “Barnes please get off me, I don’t want to do this!” you grunted trying to buck the man off you, you were on the verge of a panic attack.

“No, not until you explain it to me, then I'll get off,” he grunted applying more of his weight down onto you. This man was a damn wall of muscle, it was useless, there was no getting out of this, a growl left your lips, “Fuck okay, I’m not sure what you saw, but you more than likely saw my blog, and I write on my blog as I answered earlier,” you groaned, you didn’t want to say it, “I also,” a pause, another moan of embarrassment, “I also,” deep breath, “ I also write fanfiction about you,” oh god you cringed, this sounds much worse coming out of your mouth than it did when the words had been in your head. “the reader is anyone who also like me sits behind the screen of a computer reading the posts, and y/n is the reader, its abbreviated for your name, and no you didn’t do any of those things but it’s what writers like myself imagine you would do.” a sigh left your lips, eyes clenched undeniably tight, god you wanted this nightmare to be over, “can you please get off now.” you whispered feeling utterly ashamed.

You felt his hands leave yours, the weight and heat of his body a distant memory as he shifted off of you. Your eyes remained screwed shut, god you had really done it now, you should have never started the blog, what were you expecting. He was probably getting ready to go tell the others what you were up to, tell them everything he had seen, tell them about you embarrassing past time.

“Can you show me some more?”

Your eyes shot open, head turning to the side to see Bucky staring at you intently, your mouth parted slightly, “excuse me?” you choked out, he couldn’t be serious. “You can’t be serious,” you murmured.

“oh, I’m serious,” he murmured grabbing a hold of your laptop and pushing it towards you, “here.”

You glanced from him to the laptop, then back, “you’re actually serious?” you questioned brow raised.

“wouldn’t still be here if I wasn’t,” he murmured sliding closer to you, “now come on, show me, I'm curious.”

You cautiously flipped onto your stomach, you weren’t sure he was ready for what exactly was out there, but he had asked, and if it kept the attention off of you, anything would be better.

Bucky was glued to the screen, his eyes roaming the vast words and posts written about him, your eyes stayed trained on him looking, watching, waiting for a reaction, there was none. He was stiff as stone.

“this is all wrong” he muttered turning to you, “i wouldn’t do this.”

You raised a brow at him, “its fanfiction Bucky, it’s not supposed to be real,” you explained, “the writers are doing just that, they’re writing they’re perspective of you, some of them are really talented.” You added.

“Well yeah I can see that, but still I wouldn’t do it like this, they didn’t capture me right I wouldn’t get straight into it like this.”

A laugh slipped past your lips, “Bucky the writers on the other side of the screen can only imagine these things about you, they won’t always get you down to a T, they can only imagine how you’d be, how they would want you to be.”

“so, then you do it,” he voiced perking up, “write me and this y/n character, there's no one that knows me better than you, well aside from Steve, I could guide you through it.”

Your eyes went wide slightly, “buck I don’t think that’s a good idea, I never wanted you to find out about this and now your offering to help me write, you can’t be serious.” you murmured.

“it could be fun,” he exclaimed, “who better to help write about me, than me.” he deadpanned.

You groaned your hands coming up to cover your face, “bucky you honestly don’t know what you’re saying, you shouldn’t even be this calm about all of this, for fucks sake you just found out I write about you and now you want me to let you help me write,” you paused, “about you, you sure your arm didn’t short circuit and mess with your head?”

Bucky chuckled deeply his hands reaching up to pull yours away from your face, “Look I'm not saying that I'm not freaked out by all of this, but if I can be honest its kind of flattering to know so many people write about me like this, not that I can understand why” he murmured, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing a more accurate description, and who better to give that to the readers than someone that can be guided by me?” he questioned.

“bucky,” you groaned.

“come on doll, indulge an old man,” he teased, “help me, to help you.”

You couldn’t really be thinking this would be a good idea, but then maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Bucky could guide you through some parts of your stories that just wouldn’t flow through your finger’s right, maybe the grouchy anons would back off, you bit your lip in thought.

Your groaned your body flailing a bit as you really mulled it over, “fine,” you muttered, “but the second you get all weird I’m kicking you out, understood?” you questioned.? t.”

He grinned at you his hands rubbing together, “deal.” You really were beginning to think his arm had short circuited.

“One more thing, you can’t tell the team about this at all, it’s weird enough you knowing, I don’t need the others knowing what I do.” You voiced.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Bucky was speaking up, “do they write about the others?”

“Bucky would you stop squirming, you’re not letting me think,” you muttered turning your head away from the screen to glare at him.

He stopped moving eyes going from yours back to the white screen, you sighed rubbing your temples, you were really beginning to regret ever agreeing to this. It had been about thirty minutes since Bucky had taken a look at your most recent post you were working on, you were currently trying to rub out a steamy oral scene between Bucky and the reader and let’s just say it wasn’t happening. If it wasn’t happening before the whole ordeal with Bucky, it surely wasn’t coming to you now. You had tried time and time again for the past thirty minutes to find the right words but between the squirming super solider next to you, and your mind replaying the events of this evening it just wasn’t going to happen.

“alright that’s it, I can’t do this,” you sighed reaching to shut the laptop.

Bucky reached out for your hand stopping your movements before you could shut it completely, your head turned towards his, brow raised, “you're not capturing the scene right doll, you’re not capturing the moment right.”

Your head tilted back slightly in disbelief, “well excuse me,” you muttered pulling your hand from his, “if you know so much, why don’t you write It?” you questioned sarcastically shoving the laptop in his direction.

He sighed, “I'm not the one that has a way with words doll, that’s you,” he pointed out, “besides I'm better with actions.” he added eyes twinkling.

“so, what are you implying buck, are you going to show me how you please a woman orally?” you questioned jokingly.

He perked up, “I could do that,” he agreed, “that way you could really get into the right mindset, you could really be in the moment.”

You choked on your saliva looking at Bucky in disbelief, “Barnes I was joking!” you coughed, “I wasn’t being serious.”

“oh come on now sweetheart,” he grinned, “you would be knocking out two birds with one stone.”

“look at you learning,” you deadpanned, “and the answer is no Buck, now stop before I make you leave.” you muttered.

He turned on his side facing you, sliding closer laptop forgotten, “I’m being serious y/n,” he started, “you could get real life inspiration for the next part of your post, and also get some pleasure from it, it’ll be a win win .”

“okay that’s it,” you muttered sitting up, “out buck, I don’t have time for these games.”

He sat up with you, “who said I'm playing games?” he questioned.

You looked up at your ceiling a sigh leaving your lips before you were meeting Bucky’s gaze again, “Bucky, seriously, stop, this isn’t funny.” you murmured shaking your head.

Bucky’s hand reached out taking yours In his, “who said this is a game?” he questioned staring at you in earnest.

“You can’t actually want to do this Buck, I get that you discovered my secret, what I do on my down time, but you don’t need to help me with this, we’re best friends Buck, this could make things weirder than it probably already is.” you muttered pulling your hand from his, eyes looking away.

“Us being best friends should make this that much easier, you can tell me when you’re feeling uncomfortable and I'll stop, this wouldn’t make things weird between us, besides you’d be helping me too, we’d be helping each other.” he said his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers hooked under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him, stormy grey eyes staring back at you intently.

“Buck,” you sighed, your resolve was really failing you, you couldn’t lie to yourself by saying you didn’t want this, hell you had fantasized a moment like this for god knows how long, there’s only so much writers can offer you, but now that you were being given the opportunity to experience the real thing, were you really about to let this slip you by?

“this really isn’t a good idea Buck, it just doesn’t feel right,” you sighed body slouching.

He chuckled lowly, his body leaning in towards yours, breath fanning across your face, “it sounds like a great idea,” he murmured, “we’d both be getting something out of it, and that way, next time you write me giving our reader oral, you’ll know exactly what it feels like.”

You sucked in a breath at his words, your voice caught in your throat as he leaned even closer, his forehead pressing against yours, “come on doll, what do you say?” he questioned softly lips brushing against yours.

You nodded your head shakily, “okay,” you breathed.

Bucky surged forward his lips pressing against yours, your eyes slipping shut at the sensation of his lips gliding against your own. His flesh hand trailed its way up your body, around your neck where it tangled through your hair, his metal one finding its way onto your hip, squeezing.

Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, a breathy gasp falling from your lips. He seizes this opportunity to push his tongue in, he licks at you coaxing your tongue to dance with his. Your lungs burn from the intensity of the kiss, you pull away gasping for air, eyes dazed as you stare at Bucky his lips swollen and glistening in the dim light of your room.

Your hands reach out to touch him, fingers sliding up his torso, only to gravitate back down, his hands reach for yours stopping your movements before you can reach for the button of his jeans. He shakes his head a soft smile on his lips, “this isn’t about me sweetheart,” he murmurs leaning forward to nip at your lip, “this is about you,” he breaths.

The air around you is tense, your body thrumming with want. You don’t move though as Bucky’s eyes watch you, you wait with baited breath as Bucky’s hand untangles from your hair reaching down to get a grip on the hem of your shirt. He lifts up slowly, pulling the shirt off of you before tossing it off to the side. His eyes darken as he watches your ample breasts rise and fall. Your breath catches in your throat, you had never had a man look at you like this. The anticipation for what was to come next was building.

Unsuspecting, Bucky has you on your back in seconds, his frame hovering over yours, he leans down, his nose brushing against your chin, lips lowering till they’re meeting the skin of your neck. He kisses along the expanse of your neck drawing out breathy moans from your lips, a soft gasp follows when his teeth nip at your collarbone. You feel the coolness of his left hand trail up your stomach your body arching with it, it stops along the swell of your breast. His thumb reaches out sliding into the fabric of your bra, gliding over a now hardened nipple, the heat pools between your legs. A breathy moan falls from your lips at the sensation, Bucky chuckles lowly, warmth breath fanning across your dampened skin.

You whine as he pulls his hand from your breast, his hand trailing lower, you suck in a breath as his hand hovers over the top of your jeans, metal fingers popping open the button. His hand flattens against your body dipping into your jeans, fingers cupping you through your dampened underwear, a moan falls from your lips as he presses a single digit into your folds, wetting the fabric of your panties more.

“Mmm Buck,” you moan.

Bucky grins against your neck, his lips gliding up till they’re right by your ear, “I’m a giving person sweetheart,” he whispers, “i don’t just get right into the action, I like to play a little,” he husks, “i want to have you begging, I want to have you a moaning mess under me.” he breathes teeth nipping at your ear.

“Fuck,” you groan back arching off of the bed, Bucky presses his hand down harder against you stilling your hips. He pulls his face away from your neck his eyes holding yours, “keep your eyes on me.” He whispers, you swallow. You suck in a breath as his fingers push your panties to the side, his index finger finding it’s way into your dampened folds. The sensation alone has a breathy “Bucky” falling from your lips followed by a broken moan as his finger grazes your clit.

His fingers work over your clit your body writhing under his hand, broken desperate moans falling from your lips. A whine leaves your lips as Bucky tears his hand from your underwear, “Bucky please,” you moan.

He chuckles “patience sweetheart, let me make you feel good.” He whispers ducking down to press his lips to yours. Your lips chase his as they find their way back to your neck. He licks, sucks, and nips at your skin as he trails down your body. From your neck, down the valley of your breast till he’s reaching the top of your jeans. You watch him pull away from you leaning back on his feet as his hands reach down pulling on your jeans till your able to kick them off the rest of the way for him.

He’s slipping from the bed, his hands pulling on your thighs as he drags you down the edge of the bed. He sinks to his knee his head lowering, his warm breath fans across your mound, a shiver rolling through you. He doesn’t move, you begin to worry, maybe he had changed his mind, “Buck, we don’t have to- ” a loud moan breaks through your words, his mouth presses harshly against your cotton covered pussy, tongue pressing into you, the fabric rubbing against your aching clit.

“Jesus Buck,” you gasp body arching off of the bed.

He laughs lowly, tongue still running over your covered mound, he gazes up at you from between your legs, “ I told you sweetheart, patience.” You would definitely be adding this to your story you thought as another moan ripped through you Bucky’s head having moved from your aching core to nip at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Your hands reach down to tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your sensitive thighs. His thumb presses into you, rubbing against your aching clit, the fabric of your panties dragging deliciously against it. Your feet dig into his back, your body writhing on the bed. He glances up at you from where he’s perched between your legs, his eyes darkening, “ you think you could cum like this, you think you could cum for me.” He questions his breath ghosting over you.

A breathy “yes” falls from your lips, your body is buzzing with the need for release the teasing too much. Bucky continues to nip and suck at your sensitive skin, thumb working faster against your clit. “Fuck,” you gasp , “please Bucky,” you plead, “please,” you beg. Your desperate for him, for the need of release. His thumb pushes into you harder, working over you faster, his lips latching onto you skin sucking. A chant of his name falls from your lips as your orgasm takes you by surprise, your head pushing back into the sheets your back arching off the bed, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Bucky barley gives you a second to catch your breath before he’s moving, his hands gripping the middle of your panties, ripping them down the middle.

“Bucky did you just -”

Your words fall short as he’s pressing against you again, his face presses in close, his tongue peeking out to press against your folds. His tongue dips in dragging across your entrance till he’s flicking up against your clit, the tip of his tongue circling it. Your chest heaves as breathy moans fall from your lips, your thighs clenching around his head from the pleasure surging through you.  Bucky grips your thighs pushing them open, spreading you out for him, your back arches, breast pushing into the cooled air as his tongue flicks teasingly in and out of your soaked folds.

Your fingers grasp the sheets beneath you, twisting them in your hold. His mouth works over you, taking you higher, he’s alternating between your clit and your dripping entrance. His tongue will drag over your clit before it’s dipping down to bury into your entrance his tongue fucking into you till your screaming his name.

“Bucky fuck,” you moan, “please,” you whine.

He continues to work you over, moans of pleasure falling from his lips, the vibrations leaving you quaking in his hold. Your fingers find their way into his hair, your eyes glancing down at him the sight alone leaving you a breathless mess. He glances up his ocean grey eyes connecting with yours, you weren’t sure it was possible but they seemingly darkened more as he pushed you closer to release. His arms wrap around your spread thighs pulling you into him more, his lips work faster, tongue gliding quicker as he works you over. A loud moan falls from your lips as he quickens the pace, his name falling from your lips in a silent prayer as your grind  up against his mouth. A moan catches in your throat, his lips finding your clit as he sucks harshly, his tongue working over it with quick strokes. Your pussy clenches, body heaving as the intense pleasure washes over you. Bucky doesn’t stop as he works you through your orgasm his tongue continuously flicking over you, dipping into you to suck up your juices. Your vision goes white as you clench around him fingers pulling at his hair.

“Holy fuck,” you choke out thighs trembling as you wind down, Bucky chuckles as he moves up your body kissing up your sweat slicked skin. He looms over you eyes hooded with lust, a small smile on his glistening lips. Your hands come up wrapping themselves around the back of his neck pulling him down to you. Your lips press against his, a groan falling from your lips as you taste yourself on his sinful tongue. You lean up slightly your arms moving from Bucky’s neck to his shoulders as you move him around till he’s flat on his back on your bed. You straddle him, his hands finding a spot on your waist as he squeezes you,

“I thought this was about you doll,” he husks grinning up at you.

You roll your hips over his slightly, leaning your body over his, “it was, but I’d like to return the favor,” you whispered lips ghosting over his, your tongue peeking out to run over his plush lips. Sliding yourself down his firm body you stop once your seated on his thick thighs. Running your hands down his torso, your fingers work at popping the buttons of his jeans open, helping him shimmy them off, your tongue running over your lips as his cock springs free. You scoot down the bed settling yourself between his spread legs, leaning down as you run the tip of your tongue along the underside of his cock. A low grunt falls from his lips as you take the base of his cock into your hands, your tongue swirling around the tip. You continue to work your mouth over him indulging in the sinful noises that drip from his lips. “Fuck y/n,” he grunts, “fuck you gotta stop if you want me to finish this the right way.”

You grin up at him, you lips spit slicked, “fuck doll, come here.” He whispers gripping your arms as he hauls you up. He kisses your roughly, his tongue running over yours before he’s flipping the two of you, your back meeting the cool sheets.

Pushing your thighs apart he settles between them, gripping his cock in hand he runs it through your folds teasingly before he’s pressing in, a slow delicious burn that’s rolls a shiver through your spine. Bucky leans down his forehead pressing down onto yours, breathing each other in as he rolls his hips into you. His cock drags in and out of you, at a slow toe curling pace. Your body writhes against him, your heels digging into his ass to press him to you closer, you need to feel him, you want to feel him.

Bucky changes the angle; unwrapping your legs,  he hauls one over his shoulder the other gripped tightly in his hand as he spreads you out, the angle driving him impossibly deeper, a gasp catches on your throat, “fuck,” you moan, “fuck right there,” you gasp.

“Come on sweetheart, let me feel you, cum for me.” He grunts his thrust jarring you.

A few more hard thrusts and his thumb sweeping over your clit has you shouting out his name in a breathy moan. Your back arches, thighs trembling as the waves of pleasure wash over you. Bucky continues to push into you, dragging out your orgasm as his takes over, your name tumbling from his lips as he crashes into you.

Bucky slumps forward his face falling into your neck as he takes in a shuddering breath. “Fuck,” he grunts, “that’s going to be a hell of a fic,” he murmurs pressing his lips to your skin.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, right the fic, you think, that’s why this had happened, Bucky was helping you out, and help he did. Bucky rolls off to his side propping himself up on his elbow as he smiles down at you, your body lax against the sheets.

“When are you going to finish writing it?” He grins

“Not right now, m’ too tired, hopefully sometime in the morning” you murmured.

“So In these fics do like me and the reader cuddle?” He questions a teasing twinkle in his eye.

“I don’t know Barnes, it depends,” you reply, “are you a post sex cuddler?”

“for the right girl,” he grins opening his arms, “c’mere doll,” He murmurs wrapping you in his arms a sloppy wet kiss placed to your heated cheeks.

Your readers are in for a hell of a surprise,” he murmurs into your hair.

“That they are,” you whisper, “that they are.”

Part 2

Behind The Scenes Tag-list: @ladifreakingda @georgialeighc13 @racewife2004​ @multy-fandom-lover​ @otvlanga​ @sailorstupidsblog​

[supernatural-jackles]

Owe You One - Part 5

Title: Owe You One - Something Old and New

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4,371

Warnings: Minor Angst, Workplace Drama, Light Smut, Dry Humping, Fluff, Implied strained relationship.

Summary: Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?

Owe You One - Masterlist

Square Filled: Mechanic AU ( @spnfluffbingo)  Friends With Benefits ( @spndeanbingo ) Clothed Sex ( @spnkinkbingo)

A/N: Happy Tuesday! Here is part 5! I hope y’all enjoy this part! Please leave your thoughts in a reblog, reply or send me an ask! The reason I share is to get a response from you! Happy Reading! 

You let out the biggest yawn as you typed away on your work computer. It was just after one on a Tuesday afternoon, and you were more than ready for Friday to be here. You weren’t sure if you could handle another three days of the same boring work. You needed to find something new, instead of this fashion magazine crap. There was no way you were going to work her for the rest of your life.

 You finished up your last paragraph, saving the file before exiting. Charlie walked past your desk, giving you a wink before she entered the conference room right next to your desk. You were having an afternoon meeting in there to discuss how things were going, along with a bit of a late lunch. Since your floor was all women, getting off topic was a given. It was basically a gossip session in a professional setting.

 You put your computer on sleep mode, getting up from your chair. You decided to bring your sweater into the room, in case you got cold later on. Charlie had picked her usual seat at the end of the table so she could look at the boss directly. You always took the seat next to her, since she was one of your only friends in this place.

 As soon as you took your seat, the rest of the ladies piled into the room, taking their respective seats. Ruby took her seat next to you, and Meg beside her. Across the table, Bela and Lilith sat down. Your project leader Abaddon, walked in last with a platter of sandwiches from the diner down the road.

 “Ladies,” she greeted you as she placed the platter down on the table. “Welcome!”

 “I hope you got vegetarian,” Meg side-eyed her.

 “Of course I did,” Abaddon stated. “Let’s get the boring part of this meeting over-”

 “Please!” Charlie interrupted.

 “As I was saying. Asmodeus gave me the rundown in this morning's meeting about how things are going on our end. Right now, sales have improved by three percent, which isn’t terrible but it’s not what he is expecting out of us. Considering we cater towards women, he thinks we should be doing better. The guys on the floor below us are doing slightly better on their fishing magazine, let’s put it that way.”

 “Who the fuck wants to read a fishing magazine?” Lilith pointed out.

 “Exactly,” Abaddon replied. “Anyway, if we keep at the rate we’re going, odds are we are going to improve. We just need a couple of good hits and maybe a celebrity cameo cover story to sell and we should be on top. With Charlie on website duty, that reels in a whole other audience and we need to keep that up. I’m going to have Y/N do more articles to keep readers coming back. Ruby, I’m thinking of sending you out in the real world to grab some more perspective since you know how to talk to people. Lilith and Meg, you guys will continue working on graphics.”

 “What about Bela?” Charlie asked.

 “Well I'm actually leaving the company next week. I’m going back to England for a few months,” she smiled sadly. “I’ve got something to do back there.”

 “We’ll be sad to see you go,” Abaddon told her.

 “Yeah,” Ruby frowned.

 “Alright, I’ve given you the just of what you needed to know,” she said, taking a seat on the chair before grabbing a sandwich. “Gossip is now in session! Who is first?”

 “I started seeing this girl a few weeks ago,” Charlie started. “I met her in one of my weekends larping. She became one of the queen’s handmaidens in Moondoor and we just clicked instantly. I mean, I have never just clicked with someone like I have with her. She’s hot and not to mention, one of the best kisser’s like ever!”

 “I’m happy for you,” you smiled at her.

 “I’ll have to bring her around sometime. She’s amazing. I think y’all would really like her,” she beamed.

 “Look at her, she’s getting all blushy,” Abaddon teased her.

 “Shut up,” she scoffed. “I’m not!”

 “You are,” Ruby let out a laugh.

 “Someone else share,” Charlie stated.

 “Cas and I are talking about adopting a dog,” Meg shared. “Our schedules finally match up to the point where one of us would always be there. Our relationship is in a really good place and I think this would be as good a time as ever.”

 “For a second there, I thought you were going to say you’re adopting a child,” Ruby smirked.

 “No. Not yet,” she shook her head.

 “And to think, a year ago you thought Cas didn’t feel the same about you. Now look at you guys,” Lilth reminded everyone. “It’s only a matter of time before you guys get married!”

 “That’s still a long way off. But Cas is my best friend. I love him with all my heart,” she smiled.

 “Lilith and I are having a get together at our house next week,” Ruby spoke up. “You guys can all come and bring whoever you want. It’s been too long since we had one and getting all of us together is so hard.”

 “That’s true,” Charlie said. “I’ll bring my girlfriend.”

 “I’m in,” Abaddon smiled. “Count Crowley in too.”

 “How are you and Crowley, by the way?” Charlie asked.

 “We’re good for the most part. You know us. We still argue like an old married couple. Last night we argued over who was cuddling with Juliet. He likes to hold her and I like to have her head in my lap while we watch tv. There was no settling it last night. You know what he’s like,” she shrugged.

 “Do you think he’s going to propose soon? You guys have been dating for what-”

 “Eight years,” she finished. “I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe not. I’m not expecting him to. I’m happy as long as I’m with him. Even though all we do is argue, there is no one I’d rather be with than him.”

 “That’s what matters,” Meg smiled.

 “What about you, Y/N? Any guy in your life?” Abaddon asked you. She was staring directly at you. You didn’t want to say no, because it was a lie. But at the same time, you didn’t want to say yes because what you and Dean did in the bedroom was between the two of you. It wasn’t anyone else’s business.

 “Nope,” you stated.

 “Oh really? What’s with the hickey on your neck?” she smirked. Everyone turned to face you in sync. Your hand instantly reached up, covering the spot you knew she was talking about. You felt your cheeks turn warm. So much for keeping it quiet. Dean’s fucking lips. “You’ve been caught. Spill now!”

 “I’m not dating anyone,” you shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was nothing.

 “But you have a hickey?” Ruby furrowed her brows. “What, just a hook up?”

 “Something like that,” you breathed out.

 “Or is a friends with benefits kind of thing?” Meg cocked her eyebrow. “‘Cause there is nothing wrong with that.”

 “Sorta,” you answered vaguely.

 “What do you mean there is nothing wrong with friends with benefits?” Bela scoffed. “It’s only going to get complicated for one. Two, what is the point to it?”

 “Have you never just had sex with someone?” Meg argued. “There is nothing wrong with two consenting adults having sex.”

 “That is true,” Charlie nodded. “So what if you are. Is he a nice guy at least?”

 “Yes, he is,” you told them. “Look, I’m not ready for what all you guys have. You are all dating someone, or married or getting married. I don’t want that. I like sex and this guy just happens to be awesome at that. He doesn’t want to date. I don’t want to date. This is better than hooking up with random strangers on a constant basis to get what I want. At least with this guy, there is trust.”

 “With trust comes love,” Charlie teased you. “Why don’t you want something more?”

 “Yeah really?” Abaddon added in. “Out of everyone in this room, you are the only one who has never had a significant other.”

 “I just don’t want one. I’m perfectly happy on my own and I don’t need to have a man to make me feel like I’m getting somewhere,” you shrugged.

 “You never know though, Y/N. You might find this guy is worth it in the end,” Abaddon winked. You could hear the judgement in her voice. It was very clear that she thought the friends with benefits thing was stupid. She had been with the same guy for eight years and all she did was fight with him. What did she know about relationships? Better yet, what did she know about you and your life?

 You needed out of this workplace as soon as possible. You didn’t want to continue to be included in the bi-weekly gossip session. You were fucking tired of being judged by them. Even Charlie, who was supposed to be your friend. Granted, she wasn’t as judgy as Abaddon, the queen of drama. But why couldn’t you be happy with just having sex with someone you trusted. With someone who knew how to get the job done and made you feel good?

 You couldn’t have been happier when the meeting was over and you finally got to head out for the night. You needed away from these women and the drama that they exhaled. You made your way back to your desk to gather your things. You checked your phone to make sure you didn’t miss anything from Sam especially.

 *Hey, you wanna stop by the auto shop when you’re done work. Wanna show you something* - Dean

 You smiled for the first time all day. Finally, some normalcy. Someone who wasn’t immersed in drama. You couldn’t have been happier that he was your best friend after a day like today. You grabbed your sweater, pulling it on before throwing your bag over your shoulder. You swiped your card on the way out of the building, making a beeline for the bus.

 You were thankful that Dean’s work wasn’t too far from your own. It was a few blocks away and thankfully, the bus stop you were getting off at wasn’t too far away from his shop. You sent him a quick okay, you were on your way message to let him know you saw it. You had never been inside his workplace before. Not his day job anyways. You were kind of excited to see what he looked like as a mechanic.

 You got up from your seat, heading over to the back doors of the bus to get off. You could see Winchester’s Auto Shop from where you were. It wasn’t too far. About three buildings away from the bus stop. You just hoped that John wasn’t going to be there. Not if you were going to go in. You definitely weren’t up for another fight with one of the Winchester’s.

 The front door of the auto shop was mostly window with Winchester Auto Shop painted on it in red and black window paint. You pulled it open, hearing the ding of the bell shortly after. There was carpet set down, leading to the front desk where a blonde woman sat. You took a deep breath, finally taking a step forward.

 “Hi there hun, what can I do for you?” she greeted you with a smile. You looked down, reading the name Ellen on the metal bar sitting on her desk.

 “Hi,” you smiled at her. “I’m here to see Dean.”

 “Ah yes! You must be Y/N,” she beamed. “Go right on in, sweetie. His office is at the back on your right. Just be careful. They are still working back there.”

 “They?” you dared to ask.

 “Dean and Bobby,” she told you.

 “Thank you,” you said with a soft smile before heading into the garage. It was a big space filled with a lot of different cars and tools. It smelled exactly like a garage. All the oil and metal you expected. You heard someone working on a car to the left of you. By the sounds of it, it sounded like a tire change. Nothing too extensive like you were somewhat expecting. You looked to the right, finding Dean’s office in the corner like Ellen said.

 You could see Dean from the doorway. He was sitting at his desk, writing something in a black notebook. He was clad in a pair of jeans and a snug grey t-shirt that was covered in grease spots. He was solely focused on what he was doing.

 “Hi,” you greeted him, giving him a warm smile. “You wanted to see me, Mr Winchester?”

 “Hey sweetheart,” he grinned. “Yeah, I did. I have a bit of a surprise for you.”

 “A surprise? Dean-”

 “Just, follow me before you protest, okay?” he stated. He got up from his chair, motioning for you to follow him. He lead you both to the back door of the garage, allowing you to step out first before he joined you. You saw a bunch of tires stacked up, and rims to go with them close by. A couple of scrap cars and a two door truck sitting close by.

 “What are we doing out here?” you asked.

 He walked over to the truck, leaning against the bed of it before resting his elbow on it. “I know you’re stuck taking the bus because you can’t afford car payments right now. I mentioned something to Bobby a few months ago and he came across this in his salvage yard. It’s a little beat up and it needs a bit of repair work. I figured I could fix it up and you could have it.”

 “Dean, I can’t accept this,” you breathed out.

 “Yes you can,” he nodded. “It’s going to cost me nothing to fix it up. I can even teach you a thing or two about it,” he smirked. “It’ll save you on bus money and this way you’ve at least got a vehicle to get you from point a to point b.”

 “Thank you for this, Dean. Bobby too,” you beamed.

 “What about me?” a gruff voice said from behind you.

 “Y/N, this is Bobby Singer. Bobby, this is my friend Y/N,” Dean introduced the two of you.

 “It’s nice to meet you, Bobby. Thank you for the truck. I really appreciate it,” you smiled at the older man.

 “It’s no problem. It was just sitting in the yard, taking up space. Dean mentioned that a friend of his needed a vehicle. Better use this way. It was mine for the longest time,” he told you, looking at you a little strangely. You swallowed hard, hoping you weren’t about to get another warning from yet another person in Dean’s life. “I have to say, you look a lot like your mother.”

 “Y- you knew my mother?” you cocked your head, swallowing hard. God, did everyone know your mother?

 “A long, long time ago. Way back when she was a kid on my street,” he revealed.

 “Interesting,” you nodded. “Seems like a lot of people knew her.”

 “She was a popular gal,” he chuckled. “I’m heading out now, Dean. Gonna take Ellen home. See you tomorrow.”

 “See ya, Bobby,” Dean waved him off. You heard the door shut behind you a few seconds later, leaving you and Dean alone once more.

 “You look kinda cute covered in grease,” you commented.

 “It’s a dirty job,” he side-eyed you. “Little miss casual Tuesday.”

 “I had a meeting earlier,” you told him.

 “You mean a gossip session with those girls who don’t know how to do anything else?” he chuckled.

 “Yeah, that,” you breathed out. “I guess I kind of owe you one for the truck.”

 “No you don’t,” he stated. “Not for this, Y/N. You need this truck instead of taking the sketchy ass bus. Now you can take up parking spot twenty six. Right next to Baby.”

 “Dork,” you shook your head with a smile.

 “Well, you could always give me a bit of a thank you in my office,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he made his way over to you.

 “You replace the condom in your wallet?” you asked him.

 “Fuck,” he frowned. You gave him a smile, taking his hand before dragging him back inside the auto shop. There was no sign of Bobby or Ellen anywhere as you walked straight into Dean’s office. Space was a little limited, but you could make do with what you had.

 You shut the door tightly behind the two of you before pushing him down on his office chair. You couldn’t have been more thankful that he didn’t have arm rests like your chair at work did. He was a little confused at what you were doing, and truth be told, you had no idea what you were doing. You just wanted to make him feel good.

 You threw your leg over his lap, settling down on top of him. His hands wrapped around you, resting on the small of your back. His eyes were a little darker than they normally were. You leaned forward, slipping your arms around his shoulders.

 “I’d take you right now if I had a freakin’ condom,” he muttered as he leaned in, his lips inches away from yours.

 “Doesn’t rule out all of our options,” you whispered as you wiggled your eyebrows.

 “No, but we don’t got a whole lotta space in here,” he reminded you as his fingers traced the top of your pants. “My office is kind of small.”

 “Then we’ll make do,” you winked. An idea slipped through your mind. You didn’t necessarily have to have sex right here, right now. There were so many different ways to have fun. One of your personal favourites from way back when was something you hadn’t done in a while.

 You balanced yourself on his broad shoulders, finally closing the space between you, capturing his lips with yours. They were soft and wet, and god, when he kissed you back. His kisses were intoxicating and that’s what kept you coming back. You rolled your hips against his. Holy - did it feel good. You couldn’t have been more thankful for wearing yoga pants to work. You could feel everything so much better.

 “Mhh, what are you doing?” he almost chuckled, breathing out against you. His voice was laced with that same lust that was evident on his face.

 “Saying thank you,” you growled. You gripped your fingers into his shoulders, grinding your hips slower on his lap. You could feel him hardening in his jeans, and that made you smile. It made you feel confident about yourself. That same comfortably that you had the first time you were on top fell over you once more. “You okay with that?”

 “More than okay with that,” he nodded, pecking your lips sweetly. His hands slipped down to your ass, squeezing you with just the right amount of pressure, helping you grind on him with ease. The friction of your center pressed against his bulge had you going. You could feel your slick coating your panties, making them incredibly uncomfortable. His tongue parted your lips, gliding along yours in a smooth motion, tasting you.

 Your hands made their way into his hair, feeling the softness as your fingertips grazed over his scalp. He was as hard as a rock in his jeans. God, you felt like a fucking teenager again. Making out with a guy, trying to get as close to having sex as you possibly could. Only this time, you weren’t worried about someone walking in on you. It felt so euphoric to be this close to him, but still be so far.

 “Fucking hell,” he panted, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, causing you to let out a whimper. His eyes fluttered shut as he bucked his hips into yours, pulling you on him. So thankful for wearing yoga pants, you thought to yourself.

 His chest was heaving, just like yours. His lips were parted, the tip of his tongue peaking passed his lips as he breathed heavily. It felt so damn amazing to feel him the way you were. The pressure against you clothed pussy brought you closer and closer with each movement.

 “God, Y/N, feels so good,” he groaned. His eyes peered open, meeting yours as he adjusted his grip on your ass, curling his fingers into your flesh. One long movement on his crotch dragged perfectly along your clit, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure as you let out a loud moan.

 “Dean!”

 His lips crashed to yours once more, his tongue sliding against yours, deepening the kiss instantly. You wrapped your arms securely around his neck, your chest pressing against his. The kiss didn’t last longer than a few seconds, the need for air becoming too much too quickly. You could taste the saltiness on his lips, a thin layer of sweat covered both of your bodies, the clothing making it that much worse.

 “F-fuck sweetheart,” he grunted before letting out a whimpering sigh. You knew he was getting close. He was making the same face as he was the last time before he came. He was panting, trying his hardest to get his breathing under control. He was fucking sexy before he came.

 “De - I’m gonna-” you warned him.

 “Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged you on. “Wanna see you come undone again.”

 Your legs began to quake on either side of his as pleasure soared through you. You let out a moan. Your fingers digging into the muscle in his shoulder, trying to ground yourself as you came. Dean’s hands gripped around your body as he bucked his hips up to yours.

 His eyes slammed shut as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down just hard enough for you to see he was holding back a moan. “Son of a bitch,” he breathed out.

 You continued to ride his lap, letting him get as much pleasure as he possibly could from it. You were over sensitive, and your panties were ruined. But you felt so satisfied. You felt even better knowing that you made Dean feel good.

 He smiled at you with his half swollen, cocky grin that had you smiling along with him. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours. His nose nudged against yours before his lips pressed softly to yours.

 “Fuck sweetheart,” he breathed out. “I can’t believe you just made me come in my pants like a fucking teenager.”

 “You’re welcome,” you giggled.

 “Good thing I have a change of clothes,” he chuckled. “I gotta say, you look hot as hell when you come undone.”

 “Thank god I wore thin pants today,” you let out a laugh. “I haven’t done that since I was sixteen.”

 “I’ve never actually done that before,” he admitted.

 “Never?” you cocked your head to the side.

 “No,” he shrugged. You carefully climbed off of his lap, feeling incredibly uncomfortable in your lower region now that your panties were ruined. “I never did the whole make out sessions for hours on end when I was growing up. I’ve worked here since I was fifteen.”

 “Well, I’m glad I was your first,” you smirked.

 “Alright, how about I clean and close up shop. I’ll drive you home so you can get cleaned up and we can go out some place tonight and grab a bite to eat?” he suggested.

 “Go out?” you furrowed your brows.

 “Burgers, fries and pie. We can hang out some place afterwards,” he said nonchalantly. You were all for eating and hanging out, but you didn’t want to run the risk of his parents seeing you together. You didn’t want to endure more drama than you already had today.

 “I’m all for burgers and hanging out, but I don’t want to run the risk of your parents seeing us together, Dean. Why don’t we pick something up on the way home and hang out in my apartment. We can play video games or something?”

 “Okay,” he nodded. “But just so you know, you don’t have to hide out in fear of them seeing us together. I don’t care what they think. I told them straight up that I wasn’t going to stop talking to you, or being friends with you. ‘Sides, I’m thirty. What are they doing to do? Ground me?”

 “No, but they could stop talking to you or something. I don’t want that to happen on account of me,” you frowned, crossing your arms over your chest. “Your mom told me I wasn’t good enough for your family. I’m not going to come between you and them. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I was the reason why you didn’t have a relationship with them.”

 “My mom is a bitch,” he stated, getting up from his chair. He reached beneath his desk where he had a bag. He pulled out a pair of jeans, clean boxers and a shirt. He reached for his belt, making quick work of removing both his pants and boxers. You almost felt bad for looking at him, even though he was stripping down right in front of you. “Trust me, Y/N. You won’t be the one to come between us. It will be them that destroys everything.”

 “Sounds like you’ve got some issues with them,” you said lowly.

 “Let’s just say you’re not the only one that had a rocky relationship with their mom,” he said, pulling on the clean, blue boxers.

 “I’m sorry,” you frowned.

 “It’s not your fault, sweetheart,” he said softly. “We’ve all got our issues. Just remember that you could never destroy my relationship with anyone. I’m a big boy and I can make my own decisions.”

 “Noted,” you nodded. “I’m thinking we get burgers and pie from Jody’s.”

 “Done deal,” he agreed. “I’m down to play a few rounds of Mario Kart too.”

 “Sounds like a good night,” you smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 6 coming Sunday!

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Any theories? Please share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Nothing is stupid! I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU! Your response is the ONLY thing keeping me sharing this story!

Dean Babes

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[sometimesiwritebadly]

Life Saving Thoughts (Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader)

 Summary: You’re targeted by a serial killer who goes after soulmates. You and Spencer use your ability to read each other’s thoughts to save your life.

Part 1

Warnings: Violence against the reader, kidnapping, graphic descriptions of murders, typical criminal minds type stuff. Some language.

Notes: thank you to everyone that made part 1 so successful!! I decided to make a whole soulmate series!! This one is superrrr ansgty BUT the next one is going to be adorable as hell to make up for it

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist

You and Spencer were both on edge.

The case the BAU was currently on had been going for 6 days, and it felt like they weren’t anywhere closer to finding the killer. The unsub had been kidnapping young women, torturing them, then leaving their cut-out hearts on the doorsteps of their soulmates. The group had profiled that he’d be a 40-50 year old man, a narcissist, misogynist, and had probably gone through a nasty divorce with his own soulmate. There’d been 3 victims already, and if he stuck to his schedule, he’d take another woman by the end of the day.

You and Spencer have been together for nearly a year now, having gotten together once you joined the BAU. It’d been hard, learning how to deal with dating a coworker, constantly worrying about each other out in the field, and learning how to handle hearing each other’s thoughts all the time. The day you met, Spencer told you about how right after meeting, soulmate’s often couldn’t turn off the constant thoughts. He’d been right; the first few months of your relationship, you heard every thought that ran through Spencer’s head, and he heard all of yours. Eventually, you both learned how to control it, so you’d only speak into your partner’s head when you actually wanted to. 

You were especially grateful for this skill during this case, because you and Spencer couldn’t exactly act like soulmates right now. Knowing the unsub was going after soulmates, and he was likely to inject himself into the investigation, you and Spencer agreed to try and make sure no one knew who you were to each other. Hotch agreed when you’d told him; better to play it safe than sorry. Whenever either of you missed each other’s presence, the only solace you had was speaking into the other’s mind. Right now, that’s the only place your relationship could safely live.

Right now, both you and Spencer were trying to narrow down the geographical profile, desperate to figure out where he’d try and take the next victim from.

“Your ass looks great in that skirt.” The second Spencer’s thought entered your head, you turned around to give him a glare. He only smirked at you, before looking back at the map you’d put on the board. Back when you’d first started dating, Spencer had been shy about his love for you, but those days were long gone. If you hadn’t been keeping your relationship on the down-low right now, you’re sure he’d have given your ass a light slap as well.

“I’m gonna go get some coffee, you want something?” You asked aloud. It made you a little uncomfortable to be speaking out loud when it’s just the two of you. You and Spencer rarely talked when in private. 

“I’ll come with-” Your glare cut him off once again. Spencer had been trying to go everywhere with you, not wanting to leave you alone for a minute once he found out the nature of the case.

“Coworkers don’t follow each other everywhere, Spence. I’ll be fine, I promise.” You thought. 

Spencer only responded with a small nod, then spoke aloud, “Medium coffee, please. Extra sugar.” You already know his coffee order, of course, but you were surrounded by police officers walking around the station. You sent him one more reassuring thought as you walked away.

~~~

You were walking back to the local police station, two to-go cups of coffee in your hands, when you felt a presence behind you. You tried to subtly glance over your shoulder, and that’s when you saw him; you couldn’t see his face, but he was wearing a police uniform. Immediately, you reached out to Spencer, “Spence. Don’t freak out.”

“What? What’s wrong? Where are you?” Spencer replied immediately. You could feel all his anxiety, his regret for letting you out of your sight for a second.

“I’m being followed. I’m a few blocks from the station, I don’t think he knows I’m onto him yet. He’s an officer, but I didn’t get a look at his face-” Suddenly, you were hit over the head, and you were knocked out cold.

~~~

“Y/N. I don’t know if you can hear this...I don’t even know if you’re still alive. Please, if you’re listening. Give me anything. Any clue that’ll help us.”

Your head was killing you, but you faintly heard Spencer’s speaking as you woke up. You slowly took in your surroundings; it was a dark, dingy room. No windows, possibly a basement? You’re tied to a chair, and on a table next to you was a wide array of knives. You’d seen the M.E. reports, and you knew exactly how he’d use them. Assuming you’d only been knocked out for a few hours, the team had less than 48 hours to find you.

“Spence?” With your throbbing head - you’re definitely concussed - it hurt a little to send the message.

“Y/N!” You could feel Spencer’s relief flooding through him. Even though you knew he had so much to say to you, and you him, you tried to focus on getting him clues to find you.

“I’m in a basement, I think. I’m tied up, but I don’t think I’m injured. Except my head from when he knocked me out. How long have I been gone?”

“3 hours. We know who he is, and got a partial plate from a witness at the scene. We know who he is, we just don’t know where he took you.”

“Did Garcia try tracking his or my phone?”

“He left your phone at the scene, his is off. I’m so, so sorry, sweetie. Is there anything else you can see? Anything to help us?” 

You heard movement from upstairs. He’s definitely in the building, and you knew he’d be down here soon. You looked around more, for anything. Stretching your head around, you saw a map behind you - a virtual copy of the geographical profile you and Spencer had been working on at the station. This idiot had left it in the room with you, knowing that your soulmate is an FBI agent. The map marked where he’d taken each victim, and where he’d dumped the bodies. Turns out he had more victims than you’d known, because the map indicated 5 victims, not including yourself. With the additional victims, the pattern became obvious. If you connect all the dots of where the victim’s bodies were dumped, they made a heart on the map; you’re the final piece. 

Spencer was listening to your deductions as you made them, and he immediately updated his own map at the police station. They know where you are.

“We’re coming to get you now. You’re gonna be ok, I’ll be there soon.”

“Spence...if I’m his endgame...he’s not gonna go easy.”

“I know. I didn’t keep you safe earlier, but I swear on my life I’ll keep you safe now.”

The door to the basement suddenly flew open, and you snapped your head away from the map, not wanting to let on that you’d given Spencer all the resources he needed to get to you. The station couldn’t be more than 10 minutes from where you were now, less with a police siren. You just need to stay alive for the next 10 minutes.

“Talking to your little soulmate?” He said as he came down the stairs. You recognized him as one of the officers that’d been around the police station, working the case, but you couldn’t be bothered to remember his name. “How is Agent Reid?”

“Doctor.” You corrected him. Based on the glare he gave you, you probably shouldn’t have done that. His narcissism wouldn’t appreciate being corrected, especially by a woman. He stormed over to you, slapping you across the face.

“I wouldn’t talk back to me, bitch. Your death can either be very quick, or very, very slow.” Liar. You remembered the M.E. reports, which showed that he’d tortured all of the women for hours before killing them. He’s sadistic - even if you complied, he’d still torture you.

“How much longer?” You thought.

“4 minutes, 19 seconds. You’re going to be fine, please, stay strong for me Y/N.”

“Stop it!” The man’s voice stopped your short conversation with Spencer.

“Stop what?” You asked, weakly. 

“Talking to him! Soulmates, it’s a trick, it’s not real. Just because you can hear someone’s thoughts doesn’t mean you’ll live happily ever after.” He grabbed a knife from the table next to you, and began lightly dragging it across your skin, not yet drawing blood. You tried to move away from him, but the ropes were too tight. “People argue. Fall out of love. People die.” This time, he pressed harder against your thigh, cutting through your skirt and into your skin. You winced, but tried your best to not show the pain. He’s a sadist, he wants to see you in pain. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

“My so-called-soulmate is on a cruise with another man right now. I hear her thoughts, I know how she feels about him. I know what they’ve done to each other. How do you think that feels? Hearing the thoughts of the person you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with when they’re whoring around with another man?” He began dragging the knife down your thigh this time, causing a long, deep cut, all the way to your knee. “I think it feels a lot like being stabbed.” He took the knife from your thigh, before slamming it into your other. This time, you cried out in pain. He only laughed, leaving the knife in your thigh as you bled out.

“Spence…” You weren’t sure if it was the pain or the blood loss, but you were definitely going to pass out. You vaguely remember hearing a door slam, yelling, and a gunshot before you closed your eyes.

~~~

“Ow.” You opened your eyes slowly, only to close them again from the blinding light. You felt someone’s hand grab yours immediately.

“Y/N?” You heard Spencer say. This time, you opened your eyes fully, and saw his beautiful face smiling back at you.

“Hey.” You said, with a smile. He let out a relieved laugh, before leaning over you and giving you a long kiss. 

“I’m never leaving your side again.” He thought as he kissed you.

“That’s fine by me.”

~~~

tags: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

A thing of honour

Warning: This one got super angsty super fast and I had no idea how it happened but here we are Word count: ~3k (sis snapped) Summary: Keeping your alter ego a secret from Damian was all fun and games, especially since he seemed to hate your superhero persona while loving your "normal" you, but what happenes when he finds out about the whole thing in the worst way possible...

This was a request by a wonderous Anon:  Hiii, i’d like to request a damian x reader, where the reader also fights alongside damian and jon as their alter ego. Damian and the reader don’t get along as superheroes, but as their normal selves they do. The only one who doesn’t know of the other person’s identity is Damian, which makes it all even more amusing for jon and the reader. But when the reader is brought back to the batcave after being injured, he finds out. Ty 💕

You hadn't meant for it to go this far. Really, you didn't. You had wanted to tell him as soon as possible, but then Jon had told you about how he talked about you-well, about your alter-ego- behind your back. But to be fair, it didn't keep on being behind your back for long, even though Damian didn't know that. "Tt, she'd do us all a favour if she'd stay at home," Damian grumbled when the muted Tv in the corner of the small coffee shop that he, Jon and you visited frequently, showed a picture of Ace, or rather you in your vigilante outfit (kindly donated by your god-aunt Diana who supported you with everything you did and was the reason you were now best friends with Jon and Damian's girlfriend). You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "What's your problem with her anyways? Shouldn't you be thankful that she helped you?" you sighed while picking at your piece of pie with the fork. You could feel Jon's knowing look on you, but you paid it no mind. "I could have very well handled it without her, she was just a bother anyways," he huffed and you couldn't help but chuckle a bit. He'd eat his words sooner or later. "I was on a case with her earlier that month and I really thought she was great. She has fighting skills on the same level as Diana, don't you think so too Y/N?" Jon sent you a bright, great smile and you could've sworn he winked at you. "I'm not sure I'd go that far," you answered with a small smirk and shrugged your shoulders, "It's not like I've seen her in action yet anyways, only know her on Tv and from what you guys tell me." Damian looked between the two of you slightly confused and highly annoyed, but you were sure that he wouldn't be able to put two and two together. For him, you were his sweet, but otherwise defenceless girlfriend that couldn't knock a two-year-old out and, to be fair, for the first years of your relationship that was exactly what you were. A normal girl in love with the great detective's son and best friend with Superman's. But then Diana (after years upon years of begging) took you with her to Themyscira and there something changed. Obviously you wouldn't be able to learn to fight in the two weeks you'd stay there, but somehow, after watching Diana train with the other Amazons, you felt like your muscles were burning with energy and every fibre of your being was urging to fight. Diana almost lost her mind when you stormed onto the training field, afraid that you'd get hurt on her watch, but she froze in her tracks when she saw you defeating one of the amazons as if you've been fighting for all your life. That's how you found out that somehow you had the power to copy the fighting style of anyone you watched. When you came back from your trip you spend a good three months watching every piece of realistic fighting that you could get your hand on and soon you were, in terms of fighting without powers, even besting Diana. Even though you knew you would never seriously be able to defeat her it was still a good feeling to know you were pretty good. So you became Ace. At first, it was great and you liked being a hero more than you ever thought you did, but soon you started feeling bad for keeping such a big secret from your best friends, especially knowing that they had told you about their secret as soon as they completely trusted you. So you had been planning to tell them when Jon called you to whine about Damian annoying him about some new vigilante who he had seen fighting in "his area" earlier that week. The look on your face when you realized that it had to be you. That was when a wicked thought planted itself in your head. Not soon after you had told Jon- and Jon being Jon, soon his family new about you and your plan too and that somehow ended in Damian's family knowing about both too. That's how you ended up being in the situation you were right now. Jon sitting there, having to hold back laughter and Damian being as clueless as ever. Did you feel bad about basically lying to him? Yes, somewhat you did. Was it really funny? Yes, yes it really really was. "But anyways," you restarted the conversation, finally taking a bite out of your abused cake, "I read somewhere recently that she was working with Batman against the Riddler two weeks ago." You smiled at the memory of how petrified you had been when your boyfriend father caught you running through Gotham, hunting after the Riddler, and how amazing it was to fight alongside him after he told you that he trusted Diana's judgement and would welcome you to become an ally to his team(/family), especially considering your relationship to Damian, but he also respected your "prank" and that you'd keep your distance until you'd finally tell him. "Tt, he wouldn't have needed her anyways. Especially not if I'd been there, but just because I lightly stab Jason once, I have to stay at home for patrol," he pouted and, even though you couldn't help smiling at his cluelessness, you also couldn't help yourself from giving him a small peck on the corner of his still pouting lip, making a small blush crawl onto his face at your PDA. "Uhm," Jon, who was still always extremely awkward at seeing the two of you kiss or- god forbid- actually make out, even though he himself called himself your biggest shipper, stammered, "H-hey Damian if your father works with her, why don't you ask him who she is?" His eyes widened as soon as the words left his mouth and he had to actively look away from you because he thought that he'd maybe start to cry if he'd saw the fury filled glare you sent his way. "Don't you think I did?" Damian huffed but didn't notice your angry eyes. "A-and what'd he say?" "He said it wasn't 'his secret to share,'" he scoffed, underlining how ridiculous he thought it was by making air-quotes. "But anyway, what did you guys plan on doing this weekend? I've heard there a really cool new movie in theatres right now. Damian's treat?"

It was two weeks after the conversation in the coffee shop when your guilt about keeping such a big secret from your boyfriend slowly started eating you up from inside. The fact that the movie's side story was about the main character and his love interest almost losing each other forever because of a secret that stood between that didn't really help much, did it now? So you've been planning how to do it for hours when your phone vibrated and twitter notification showed you that Robin was seen on his way through Gotham, most likely on patrol. It was really a short circuit reaction to get into your suit and jump out your window into the direction of where you thought the picture might have been taken. You were almost put off by how quickly you found him. Maybe it was because of how well you knew him, but it still surprised you to no end. "I heard you had something you have a bone to pick with me," you said, having no real plan on how to handle this. Damian span around at an unbelievable pace and you would have certainly been cut by the Batarang that was thrown your way, had it not been Diana's extra training in the area of "people will definitely throw sharp objects your way when you least expect it". For a second your eyes stayed on the Batarang that you held in your hand until they wandered back up at your unknowing boyfriend who looked at you like you were evil as a person. "Listen, I don't want to fight you, we're on the same team, remember?" you tried to somewhat clear the water. "Tt, you're nowhere near my team. You're just a little girl who thinks she can play superhero." "Okay, isn't that a little sexist?" you couldn't help the snarky comment, "And nevertheless, I've defeated real criminals, I've helped the city. What's your damn problem with me anyway. What have I ever done to upset you?" Your voice was raising and you were slightly afraid that he could recognize your voice, now not being too sure if you actually wanted him to know who you were anymore. "You're just an imposter. Don't you think I've noticed that your fighting style, as multifaceted as it may be, is just an exact copy of other peoples, mainly Wonder Women? Does she know that she has a seemingly shameless copycat running around?" You took a small step back out of surprise. He had never talked with your persona before and he still figured you out like an open book. You were fascinated and at the same time extremely annoyed and angry at his lack of empathy and him not even trying to find out who you were. "So what? Do I have to have my own style just to fight crime? Is it wrong of me to try and help people?" "It's a thing of hono-" "Oh shut the hell up and get that giant stick out of your ass," you huffed and made a sweeping gesture, "This city needs all the help it can get. Hell, this world needs all the help it can get! So excuse me for trying to be part of this help." You saw that he wanted to say something, but you didn't let him. "And if you are so invested in my honour, I have you know that Wonder Women is well aware of my fighting style! She was the one who thought it too me after all." With that, you turned around and jumped off of the building onto the balcony below it, keeping on climbing down the building until you were on the ground. All the frustration inside you made you feel your bone ache with the tears that you held in, while you stormed through the allies of Gotham, only stopping when you stood in front of an abandoned warehouse that was a hotspot for crime, that you'd usually keep away from, but right now you needed a ventile to get the anger out of you. When you entered, it was completely empty. "Well, so much for that," you muttered to yourself. You turned around, ready to leave and look somewhere else when you felt something pierce simultaneously through your back and your stomach. Your breath hitched in pain and shock when you looked down to see the tip of a short sword or a long knife standing out of your abdomen. "What a shame, I had planned for that to enter someone else's body. Too bad," a male voice echoed through the large empty hall, followed by the sound of a closing door. For a moment you thought about trying to follow him, but when you slightly turned around and the pain shot through you, you decided against it. You had to get medical attention. And that as soon as possible.

You had no idea how, but somehow, as unlikely as it seemed, you had managed to end up at the manor, your suit drenched with your own blood and every step painfully. The world was spinning around you and there were more black points in your sight than the actual world. With the last energy you could manage to gather, you pushed the doorbell and managed to stand straight while waiting for it to open. "Miss Y/L/N, what a surprise to see you here, especially in this attire. It is not wise to come in this way when you're wearing this," he welcomed you with a scolding look, not noticing the silver blade that was still stuck in your stomach, in his eyes, your mask seemingly covering how pale, tired and lifeless you already looked. Even if you were still awake enough to think straight, you wouldn't exactly have been surprised by him knowing who you were. He was still looking at you expectedly when you suddenly dropped forward against Alfred, managing with the last of your lifeforce to keep your stomach back a bit as to not to stab him with the tip of the long knife. The Butler tried to steady you by draping his arm around you when he suddenly took in a sharp breath as he felt the warm liquid that was your blood cover his hand and forearm, and his hand touching the handle of the weapon that might cause your ultimate demise. As quick as possible he picked you up, careful to keep your stomach as straight as possible so that the knife wouldn't cause more damage than necessary, and brought you down into the Batcave, not paying any mind to Damian who was sitting in the seat in front of the Batcomputer, sharpening his Katanas. Alfred carefully laid you down onto one of the medical beds on your side, quickly pulled up your medical file and sorted through one of their emergency 'blood-banks' to give you a transfusion. By the time he had you connected to all the medical machines- he was extremely quick after years of training, Damian came rushing to his side. He had a worried look on his face until he caught sight of your suit. "What is she-" "We have no time for that. Call Dr. Thompkins! Now!" Damian didn't dare to oppose Alfred's command and quickly did as he told before he came back to Alfred who did his best to keep you alive, your heartbeat way too slow. "She's on her way, I told her it was urgent," Damian grumbled. He was, of course, somewhat worried about you- well, about Ace- but seeing his object of daily annoyment laying there in front of him, basically dead, he couldn't help but feel validated in his hate towards her. That was until Alfred took your mask off to check your reaction towards light to see if you were still responsive. Damian could hear his heart break and stop when he saw who he felt was maybe the love of his life lay there, hair dull and dishevelled around your head, skin almost wide and your face so lifeless. His brain couldn't comprehend what was going on and it was like time froze. He only started to realize anything was happening again when he felt his father's arm pull him away from where Dr. Thompkins, who he hadn't even notice coming in, and Alfred closed the makeshift medical curtain to start operating you. Damian looked up at Bruce, his tearstained cheeks still wet, no sign of his eyes stopping to cry anytime soon, and saw the look in his eyes. That look of sorriness. That look of hopelessness. That look like he was sure, that you wouldn't make it out of the cave alive.

The tension in the cave was so explosive that no one dared to say a word. Besides the members of the Batfamily that were gathered there, Diana was pacing through the room and Jon and Clark were silent beside their best friends- Clark with a hand on Bruce's shoulder and Jon holding Damian's hand, another thing no one dared to speak about, not budging at the strength of his grin that would break a normal humans hand. It was nothing against what he had to endure when he had first entered the cave. A completely livid and messy, tired-looking Damian came at him, pushing his chest while screaming at him, asking him if he knew. When Jon didn't answer, just a look of extreme guilt in his eyes, Damian snapped. It took Clark and Bruce together too rip him off of his best friend who just stood there and silently took every blow. When Damian had finally calmed down, his eyes slowly watering again, Jon dared too move closer to him, his worry over his best friend greater than the shame he felt for being- in his eyes- partly responsible for your state. Damian, who deep inside knew that it wasn't Jon's fault- that it wasn't anyone's fault but the persons who had thrown that knife- clutched onto his best friend and cried onto his shoulder, which was all it took for Jon to break and the tears to roll down his cheeks too. When it felt like they were both dry of tears they sat down, hand in hand. With Diana, it wasn't too different, just less violent. She came rushing in and demanded to see you. When Bruce made it clear that you were still operated on, she wanted to storm out of the cave and comb through the city for the person who was responsible for that. Bruce somehow managed to talk her out of it, but he knew that she wouldn't be the only one who'd started wreaking havoc when Dr. Thompkins came out of the medical area with the bad news he already expected. He just hoped he would manage to be a good father for Damian when it'd count most. Almost nine hours of nearly complete silence had passed before Alfred came to them, still in his scrubs. Everyone stopped what they were doing and you could've heard a pin drop. "She's through and will make it. No permanent damage, but she won't be able to do any physical straining activities for the next few months. It was a very close shot." A collective breath of relief went through the room and a lot of tense shoulders relaxed. "Can I- Can we see her?" Damian's voice, that was so much timider than anyone was used to, asked and Alfred could see the desperation on his face. "Yes, but she probably won't wake up very soon. Her body is thoroughly and utterly exhausted." Damian didn't care. He sat beside your bed for the next two days. The others would come in for a while, either to make sure Damian isn't completely alone or to be with you but left after a few hours, not being able to abandon their lives forever. It was around midnight, Jon and Clark had just left to get back to Smallville for a change of clothes and a goodnight sleep in their own beds a few hours ago when Damian shot up from being half-asleep at the sound of a groan echoing through the empty room. His eyes looked around frantically, searching for any sort of danger when a small cough turned his attention to you. Your eyes were still closed but your face was pinched together in pain. "Hey," Damian whispered and took hold of your hand, his demeanour easing a bit when you pressed it. "Dami?" you whispered back with a coarse voice and slowly your eyes fluttered open. When you saw into his face, worry and sorrow marked onto it, you couldn't help the tears from welling up, everything that had happened and the realization of almost losing everything came crashing down onto you. "Shhhh, it's okay, everything okay," Damian mumbled soothingly and quickly sat onto the side of your bed to take you into his arms. For the last 48 hours, he had imagined every sort of conversation about why you didn't tell him about your alter ego, about how you could've been so careless, about why you even became a vigilante when you knew how dangerous it was, but at that moment he realized that all that was unimportant. Of course, he'd have to talk about it with you sooner or later, but after almost losing you, the fact that you were still there in his arms was the most he could want.