#he probably did that a lot now that i think about it…

[wroetolando]

𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 | 𝙻𝙽𝟺

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lando norris x fem!reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: the one where netflix interviews you about your relationship with lando

𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰: you are in love - taylor swift

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The room hums with quiet anticipation as the Netflix production team makes their final adjustments. The bright white walls and minimalist décor give the space an almost clinical feel, but the warmth of the overhead lights makes it slightly more inviting. A few feet away, the interviewer shuffles through her notes, her well-rehearsed smile never faltering.

You sit in the plush white chair, Lando’s hoodie draped over your frame like a protective shield. You hadn’t meant to wear it—well, maybe you had. It had been an early morning, and in the rush to get ready, you grabbed the first thing that felt comfortable. Now, as the cameras adjust focus, you wonder if people will notice, if fans will recognize it from the countless Twitch streams and Instagram stories. They probably will.

The cameraman counts down from three with his fingers.

“And… rolling.”

The interviewer’s smile widens. “Alright, let’s get started.” She flips open her folder, her pen poised between her fingers. “You’ve been around the paddock for quite some time now. Fans have seen glimpses of you, but you’ve managed to stay relatively low-key despite being in a relationship with one of the most talked-about drivers on the grid. How has that been for you?”

You shift slightly in your seat, keeping your hands clasped together in your lap. “I don’t really think about it too much,” you admit. “I mean, I know people are curious, and I understand why, but I’m not here for the attention. I’m here for Lando.”

The interviewer tilts her head slightly. “That’s interesting because, whether you like it or not, you have become a figure in the F1 world. From being spotted in the McLaren garage to celebrating podiums with Lando, the cameras have taken notice.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that too.”

She flips to the next page of her notes. “Let’s go back to the beginning. When did this all start? How did you and Lando first meet?”

A soft smile tugs at your lips. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. It wasn’t like some dramatic love-at-first-sight thing. We were just… friends for a long time. It was always easy between us, you know?”

“Friends to lovers?”

“Yeah.” You nod, the memory of it still so vivid in your mind. “It just sort of happened over time. I don’t think there was ever a moment where we sat down and said, ‘Okay, we’re in love now.’ It was just us, and at some point, we realized we couldn’t imagine life any other way.”

The interviewer smiles. “That’s really sweet.” She glances at her notes again. “Now, Lando is obviously a very public figure. His fanbase is huge and passionate, and with that comes a lot of attention—not all of it positive. How do you handle being in that world?”

You take a slow breath, choosing your words carefully. “It can be overwhelming sometimes,” you admit. “I try not to let it get to me, but there are days when it’s harder than others. Some people are really supportive, but others…” You pause, debating how honest you want to be. “Let’s just say not everyone is kind.”

There’s a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “Does that ever affect your relationship?”

You shake your head. “No. At the end of the day, I know Lando, and he knows me. That’s all that really matters. It’s easy to get caught up in the noise, but when we’re together, none of that exists.”

The interviewer leans forward slightly. “So, let’s talk about race day. You’ve been in the paddock for some of Lando’s biggest moments, including his first podium and some really close battles. What’s that like for you?”

You let out a small laugh, already feeling your heart rate pick up at the thought of those high-stakes races. “Stressful,” you say with a grin. “Really stressful. I trust him completely, but watching him go wheel-to-wheel at 300 km/h? Yeah, that’s terrifying.”

“I imagine it’s quite an emotional rollercoaster.”

“Oh, absolutely.” You nod. “There are days when he’s on top of the world, and there are days when it’s devastating. And you feel all of it with him.”

The interviewer watches you carefully. “And how do you support him through those tough days?”

Your fingers tighten slightly around the fabric of his hoodie. “I just remind him that one race doesn’t define him. He’s so hard on himself sometimes, and it’s easy for him to forget how incredible he is. So, I try to be the voice that tells him it’s okay to have bad days.”

She smiles. “That’s beautiful.” There’s a brief pause as she flips to the next question. “Now, fans have picked up on how he looks at you, how protective he is. There was even that one moment on Twitch where chat thought it was adorable how he made sure you were okay. Do you ever notice those things?”

Your cheeks warm slightly. “I mean, yeah, I notice,” you say with a soft laugh. “But that’s just him. He’s always been like that, even before we were together. It’s just who he is.”

The interviewer grins. “Well, fans love it. And speaking of fans, you’ve gained quite a few of your own. Do you ever think about that?”

You blink in surprise. “Not really.”

“Well, you should. People adore you.”

That makes you smile. “That’s nice to hear.”

She sets her notes aside. “Alright, last question—where do you see this going? The future?”

Your gaze flickers toward the door, where you know Lando is probably waiting just outside. Then, you smile, your answer coming easily.

“Wherever he goes, I’ll be right there with him.”

The cameraman signals that the recording is over. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The interviewer offers you a warm smile before thanking you for your time, and as soon as you step out of the interview room, Lando is there, leaning casually against the wall.

“How’d it go?” he asks, pushing off and slipping an arm around your waist.

“Not too bad.” You glance up at him. “They asked a lot about you, obviously.”

He smirks. “Well, of course. I am pretty great.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can retort, he tugs you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Thanks for doing it,” he murmurs. “I know it’s not your thing.”

You lean into him. “It’s worth it for you.”

And as the cameras pack up behind you, fading into the background, you realize that no matter how many interviews come your way, no matter how bright the spotlight gets, this—being here with him—is what matters most.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

masterlist

[svtiddiess]

Hey! He's Mine!

Synopsis: Sometimes, you have to wonder if your boyfriend is really yours. With Seungcheol constantly hogging him (and lowkey being obsessed with him), fighting for Jeonghan's attention has become part of your daily routine. But you're not one to back down—if Seungcheol wants him, he'll have to pry Jeonghan from your cold, dead hands (and honestly, don't be surprised if he actually does).

Pairing: Jeonghan x afab!reader, Seungcheol x afab!reader (platonically!)

Genre: fluff, crack, established relationship

Rating: sfw

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Seungcheol and yn bicker a lot but they have a sibling dynamic so it's all good fun, Jeonghan menacery, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This was requested! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it anonie!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

You're not the jealous type—really, you're not. But there's something about seeing Seungcheol constantly stealing Jeonghan away from you that tugs at your heart, just a little. And it's a valid feeling, you tell yourself. After all, you're his girlfriend, and it's not exactly ideal to have your man constantly being claimed by someone else. Yet, here you are, day after day, battling for your boyfriend's attention against his best friend.

"Hey! I was cuddling him first!" you protest, glaring at Seungcheol as he strolls into Jeonghan's apartment and shamelessly pulls him away from your cozy moment.

"You've had your turn—now it's mine," Seungcheol retorts, tightening his arms around Jeonghan, who looks far too amused by the whole situation.

"Excuse me? I'm his girlfriend. That gives me cuddling priority over you!" you fire back, crossing your arms.

Seungcheol just smirks. "Best friend of 12 years here. I've known him longer, so I think that trumps your claim."

"That's not how this works!" you argue, throwing your hands up.

"Actually, it's exactly how this works. Longer history means more cuddle rights," he teases, sticking his tongue out at you playfully.

"Hannie!" you whine, turning to Jeonghan for backup.

He just chuckles, shrugging. "Sorry, bubs. You're on your own for this one. Gonna have to fight him fair and square."

You let out an exasperated sigh, watching as Seungcheol smugly pulls Jeonghan even closer, clearly enjoying his victory.

You hug yourself tightly, trying to ward off the chill as you wait for Jeonghan to pick you up. The sound of a honk snaps you out of your thoughts, and you glance up to see a car pulling up. Squinting, you notice Jeonghan in the passenger seat and Seungcheol behind the wheel. Of course, Jeonghan probably talked Seungcheol into driving—classic Jeonghan behaviour. You can't help but chuckle to yourself as the car comes to a stop in front of you.

Jeonghan hops out and immediately pulls you into a warm hug. You melt into his embrace, the cold instantly fading as he holds you close. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head and murmurs, "Did I keep you waiting long?"

"Not at all, I just got out here," you reply, smiling up at him.

He kisses your temple once more before guiding you to the backseat and sliding in beside you.

"Why are you sitting in the back?" Seungcheol pouts, glancing over his shoulder at Jeonghan.

"Because I want to sit with Y/N," Jeonghan replies with a grin.

You shoot Seungcheol a smug look, wrapping your arms around Jeonghan and sticking your tongue out playfully.

"The front seat is way more comfortable," Seungcheol mutters under his breath.

"Maybe, but he's happier sitting with me," you say with a smirk, hugging Jeonghan tighter. "Now step on it, Uber driver, or I'll have to give you a one-star review and complain about your attitude. And trust me, I'm very detailed in my feedback."

Jeonghan snorts, trying to stifle his laughter, while Seungcheol glares at you through the rearview mirror. "You know, I don't even get paid for this," he grumbles.

"Consider it a charitable act," you shoot back, grinning. "Now, less talking, more driving. Chop, chop."

Jeonghan's laughter fills the car as Seungcheol mutters something about "ungrateful passengers" and finally hits the gas. You lean back, feeling triumphant, and snuggle into Jeonghan, who's still chuckling at your antics.

You let out an exasperated huff, glaring at the man sitting across from you. Turning to your boyfriend, you pout dramatically.

"Hannie, why is he here?" you grumble, pointing at Seungcheol, who's too busy shovelling noodles into his mouth to notice your irritation.

"Because I was bored at home and missed Jeonghan," Seungcheol remarks, barely looking up from his food.

"We're on a date," you remind him, crossing your arms.

"And I missed Jeonghan," he repeats with a grin, stuffing another forkful of noodles into his mouth.

"You see him every day! Probably more than I do!" you argue, your voice rising slightly.

"There's nothing wrong with missing my best friend and wanting to hang out with him," Seungcheol shrugs, completely unbothered.

"I'm on a date with my boyfriend, and you're ruining it," you grumble, shooting him a pointed look.

"Don't act like the three of us haven't gone out together before," Seungcheol fires back, rolling his eyes.

"Well, I don't want you here this time," you deadpan.

Seungcheol gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like he's been wounded. "Well, I don't want you here either!"

"You're the one crashing our date!" you exclaim, gesturing wildly.

"You're the one crashing the time I was spending with my best friend!" he retorts, matching your energy.

"You guys weren't even together before this date!" you counter, your voice rising.

"And how do you know that?" Seungcheol challenges, raising an eyebrow.

"Because I was with him the whole time!" you shoot back, exasperated.

"Well, I was texting him, so technically, he was spending time with me too," he says smugly, leaning back in his chair.

"That doesn't even make sense!" you groan, throwing your hands up.

"It does!" he insists, grinning like he's won the argument.

"Nu-uh!"

"Uh-huh!"

Meanwhile, Jeonghan sits between the two of you, happily munching on his pasta, completely unfazed by the chaos. Damn, this place makes really good pasta, he thinks to himself, blissfully ignoring the bickering.

You lean back in your seat, resting your head on Jeonghan's shoulder and getting comfortable. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer, and rests his head on top of yours. The two of you sit there, perfectly content, listening to the sizzle of meat on the grill and breathing in the delicious aroma filling the apartment.

"I should've changed the passcode to the front door," Seungcheol grumbles from his spot by the small electric grill in the corner. He's busy flipping pieces of meat, clearly annoyed but still committed to his role as the designated grill master. Tonight was supposed to be a BBQ night for Seungcheol and Jeonghan, but, well, you decided to tag along as Jeonghan's plus one…without letting the both of them know.

You glance over at Seungcheol and smirk. "Even if you changed it, I would've figured it out eventually. Seriously, what kind of passcode is 0001?"

"A perfectly good one! And I only changed it because you figured out the last one!" Seungcheol fires back, defensively waving his tongs in the air.

"Oh yeah, your super secure passcode of 0000," you snort, rolling your eyes.

Seungcheol pouts and turns back to the grill, muttering something under his breath that you can't quite make out. Meanwhile, Jeonghan leans over, grabs a few pieces of meat, and feeds you one. You hum in delight as the flavour bursts in your mouth.

"Cheol, your barbecuing skills suck," you comment, chewing happily as Jeonghan continues to feed you more meat.

Seungcheol's head snaps up, and he stares at you, visibly offended. Jeonghan stifles a laugh beside you.

"What do you mean my barbecuing skills suck?!" Seungcheol exclaims.

"The meat could be cooked a lot better. Just saying," you shrug.

Jeonghan pops another piece of meat into his mouth and nods in agreement. "She's right, Cheol. It could be better."

Seungcheol looks back and forth between the two of you, mouth hanging open in disbelief. His shoulders slump, and his lips form a dramatic pout. "You guys are mean," he whines.

"We'd be nicer if you grilled the meat better," you tease, grinning as Jeonghan feeds you another bite.

Seungcheol huffs and lets out an incoherent grumble, turning his attention back to the grill. You can't help but snicker as Jeonghan continues to spoil you with more meat, the two of you enjoying yourselves at Seungcheol's expense.

Sitting in the corner of one of HYBE's practice rooms, you watch as your boyfriend and the rest of SEVENTEEN rehearse for their upcoming performance. A proud smile spreads across your face as you see how hard they're working, their energy and dedication filling the room.

When they finally take a break, you rush over to Jeonghan and wrap him in a tight hug, showering him with praise. "You're doing amazing! I'm so proud of you!" you gush, your voice full of admiration. He hugs you back, laughing softly, and peppers your face with kisses as his way of saying thank you.

Just as you're basking in the moment, you spot Seungcheol heading your way. Instinctively, you step in front of Jeonghan, blocking him like a human shield.

"Hey, hey! No! This is my time with Jeonghan!" you say, holding your hands up to stop Seungcheol in his tracks.

"I just want to talk to him!" Seungcheol whines, trying to peek around you.

"You can talk to him later! I've been patiently waiting for my turn," you huff, standing your ground.

"Stop hogging him!" Seungcheol complains, crossing his arms.

"I'm not hogging him! You were with him the entire practice!" you shoot back, glaring at him.

Jeonghan just stands there, a soft smile on his face as he watches the two of you go back and forth. Seungkwan walks over, clearly over the drama, and groans. "Jeonghan, stop egging them on. We all know what you're doing."

Jeonghan chuckles, completely unbothered. "But it's so fun to watch them bicker. Why would I stop?" He grins, clearly enjoying the free entertainment.

And honestly, who can blame him? Free entertainment is free entertainment, after all.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @sashaaahh @xueisaaa17 @aeriyell @eshia16 @dreamingofpcy @archivistworld @kyeomiis @iwannakisspoutycheol @foxiesgf24 @livelaughloveseventeen @kwanniehae @ateez-atiny380 @junnhuisworld @horangipower17 @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @brownsugarbaybee @adiknyamingyu @smiileflower @cherrybb96

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ 𝐋𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

order 89 | one-shot| Jade+Floyd | Fem reader

❀ NOTE: sorry to keep @kkalimarii waiting for this, a bit rushed but I hope my vision was visioning. While I was gone you dropped new art (now I have to go write a fic for it too LOL)

You hesitated before walking through the door, you looked down at yourself before looking back to which Floyd smiles at you.

He leans down to your level, “Are ya scared or something?” You shake your head then you feel a hand on your back.

“You have nothing to be afraid of.” Jade flashes a pristine smile.

“There’s a lot to be afraid of which includes you!”

Jade’s hand pushes you in and the door slams behind you. You held your breath as you walked down the hall.

“Make sure to smile and introduce yourself.” Floyd said, whispering in your ear.

You cry in your head, looking back at the decisions that brought you to a Leech family get together.

~

“Hey Shrimpy,” Floyd called while wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind you, “Are you busy this weekend?”

You were startled but you figured Floyd would pop up eventually since you’re in Mostro Lounge, just dining alone. You put down your phone, you knew there was no getting out of a conversation with Floyd. “As far as I know, not at all.” You looked up at him.

“Cool, you’re coming with me then.” Then he walked off. He was unpredictable as always, you couldn’t begin to think what he was going to drag you into. Your calls to him for more context and to come back were useless.

You figured you’ll ask him about it the next time you see him.

The door swung wide open and Floyd slumped down on the chair. “Jade, tell Ma and Pops we have a plus one for this weekend.”

The other twin nodded his head, “I almost let it slip my mind. Who did you decide to invite?”

“I just walked out and saw Shrimpy sitting there so I picked her.” Floyd laughed.

You were pretty much clueless on what event you’d be attending until you got a text from Jade.

Jade

I’ve cleared us to leave campus for this weekend with the Headmage. Rest assured in that regard. Meet us in the mirror room Saturday at 3 PM. Of course, dress in formal attire.

You

Okay

But one little thing

Where are we going?

Jade

Apologies for not informing you sooner

You’ll be joining us for our annual banquet, an important day for our family.

You

What are we celebrating?

Jade

The banquet is to honor the alliance and uphold the relations between families.

You

???

You didn’t know what to think, it seemed like one big joke everyone knew about but you. You knew it was too late to back out. “Do I even have any formal clothes?” You asked yourself out loud, Ace leaned over and skimmed over your texts with Jade.

“What’s happening with you and the twins?” He was just as surprised as you were. You pushed him away from your phone and pulled it close to your chest.

“I don’t even know. Floyd asked if I was busy this weekend and said I’m going somewhere with him. Apparently it’s a family banquet?”

“I’d be scared if I were you. You know what I heard about their family?” He brought you in closer to whisper in your ear. "I hear they’re even more messed up than Octavinelle. The only reason they got so powerful and rich was taking out other families, like literally taking out. Before they were two rival families that were brought together because the son and daughter fell in love. Now the two most influential families fused to become that thing.”

You gasped and covered your mouth before leaning in to ask a question. “So they’re like… aquatic mafia?”

Ace nodded his head in all seriousness.

“And I’m gonna meet them this weekend?! I wonder what they’re like in person.” You put your hand on your chin and thought.

Maybe one eye color came from the mom and the other came from the dad. Most likely the twins took after their dad the most in appearance and height. The mom can’t be that tall, probably wears heels to compensate. Maybe she wears fur coats and scarves like the mafia wives do in movies. You couldn’t even begin to think how they would act, given they raised the Leech twins and they’re mafia.

You snapped back from your thoughts and you realized Floyd had his arm around you while Jade put his hand on your shoulder, both slightly shaking you.

You tilted your head up and laid your eyes on a muscular man with sunglasses, you couldn’t see his eyes but you were certain his glare alone would kill a man, there were several notable scars across his face making him even more menacing. His hair was two toned but grey and blue unlike the twins. They seem to have hair more like the tall woman with flawless skin. You could tell she doesn’t need makeup to stand out. When you look closer, her sharp features like her eyes and nose were much more alike to the twins. She was adorned with pearls and gold that you knew couldn’t be fake. Despite her extravagant heels, she still wasn’t as tall as her husband. Her mouth curled into a giant smile.

“Oh this is the girl.” She cooed, “I already know your name.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

She’s beautiful!

“Hello it’s nice to meet you my name is [name]—“ You stuck your hand out for a hand shake but the girl pulled you into a hug.

“You two are almost catching up to me now.” The tallest man went over to the twins and simultaneously ruffled the top of their heads. Floyd reluctantly nodded while Jade smiled awkwardly while greeting him back.

You were about to choke from how hard she was squeezing you, it was like Floyd if he wasn’t holding back— actually if Jade and Floyd were both trying to squeeze you at once is a better way to describe it.

Floyd watched and pouted until Jade put a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Mom, humans are quite fragile so be cautious with the strength used.” She turned her head and let go of you.

She put her hand against her cheek and smiled, “How silly of me, I’m sorry for that dear. But…” She put her arm around Jade’s neck and brought him into a hug.

Floyd, while trying to fix his hair, was pulled into a hug with the other arm. “I missed your adorable faces. My little boys look so grown!” She cooed.

“I still can’t beat her…”

“I didn’t know you could get any stronger…”

They both remarked in apprehensive voices. Though you were still regaining your breath from her embrace, you thought it was funny how the twins were overpowered by their mom. Though you turned your attention to their father, who you haven’t spoken to yet.

“Hello it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Leech, my name is [Name], thank you for inviting me.” You tried your best to be polite.

Seemingly it worked, “You’re a sweet one, the pleasures all mine. I’ve been wanting to meet you. Besides Azul we hear about you the most.” He was friendlier than he looked. His toothy grin revealed his jagged teeth much like the rest of his family.

You smiled back, “Only good things I hope.”

Once Jade and Floyd escaped from their mother’s embrace, they went up next to you.

“Tell the boys to call home more or text back faster.” Their mom pouted and crossed her arms, “But I guess they forget or are too busy anymore… I’m sure whatever it is, they're doing it related to their education.”

You smiled, they really aren’t aware of their violent tendencies exerted towards their classmates. Though given they’re the ones who raised them it’s likely their fault.

“How are they in class? What sports do you partake in? What foods do you like? Which one do you talk to more? How long did it take until you could tell the two of them apart?” More and more questions bombarded you from the mother alone until her husband came up and gruff yet gentle placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Honey, she can’t understand a word you’re saying.” He softly spoke to her and she covered her mouth in realization. You could make out a smile behind her hand and her husband smiled back gently.

“Apologies for my lack of composure. I’m just happy to hear my boys have friends besides Azul.” She admitted, the twins cranking their heads in response.

“It must be hard for you, poor girl.” Their dad added making their expressions contort.

“Jeez, can’t you lay off for one sec?” Floyd muttered with apprehension before silencing himself. Jade shared a similar attitude but stayed silent. You could tell there was no talking back for them, nobody would talk back to mafia parents after all.

Mrs. Leech grabbed your arms and glided her hands down to yours, “Look at your outfit, dear did no one tell you the color scheme we chose this year?” She fussed for a quick second and turned towards her sons. You couldn’t see her expression but Floyd slouched and Jade avoided her gaze. “No matter, I’m sure we have something that will work. Follow me, we’ll find something.”

She led you away with a brief remark to the rest of her family and left only the men of the family.

“Wearing all white to our banquet it’s like she’s trying to get married to one of y—“

“Don’t get it twisted.”

“It’s not something to be overthought.”

Mr. Leech let out a hard laugh before patting their backs, “It’s lonely without you boys. Your teenage years are precious, so tell me all about it.” He gently moved them.

Jade opened his eyes and spoke up. “All has been adequate. We’ve been sticking by Azul and performing duties as vice housewarden is no chore. I’m happy to have this responsibility.“

Floyd chimed in, “I’ve been focusing on basketball lately, no diff since when you last checked up on us.”

His expression remained unwavered, he leaned in to whisper “Don’t lie, how many fights have you gotten into? Not including each other.”

Father like son and that certainly applies in this situation, but in this case it’s less like fights and more like attacks.

Enough time passed to where Jade began to wonder where you were, Jade and Floyd went off to greet family members. “Hey, Jade, any idea when Shrimpy is coming back?”

“None at all, she’s with Mom after all.” Jade said back then moving to greet other family members. Even realizing Floyd had managed to sneak away.

Floyd skipping out isn’t out of character but he should know better, must’ve gotten bored and went off to find more interesting things.

“Floyd… I told you I still need to change back.” You firmly said but his grip on your wrist only tightened.

He didn’t even look back at you, “Mama wouldn’t let you change out of it, you look too good anyway.” He stated.

You coughed at his words, “What did you say?”

He stopped and looked back at you, “I said my mom wouldn’t let you and you look good in that dress.”

Your eyes flickered between him and his hand at your wrist, you thought too deeply into his words. He’s just saying that as flattery, or as a joke. It’s not something to be taken seriously but you couldn’t deny how warm your face felt.

“Let me introduce you to my family, they all want to know about you, Shrimpy.” He pulled you along again with no resistance on your end. He tugged you along until he felt you stop, he smiled back but realized where the real resistance came from.

Jade gently intertwined his fingers with yours and stood firm. “There you two are, I was feeling so lonely.”

“Jade!” Both you and Floyd called out with different tones.

Floyd, with a tug of his arm, groaned and pulled you closer, “Butt out you prick…”

Jade, with a defiant step, laughed and got closer to you two with the same grip on you, “You need to greet everyone else yourself, don’t be rude. May I add, you look stunning in that dress. It’s a blessing to see you like this.”

You couldn’t react with how your wrist was being crushed by one and the other being squeezed until it was numb, you couldn’t feel either of your hands.

The proud parents of two stood far from the sight but undoubtedly focused. “Hard to believe Floyd has the upper hand in this. I always thought Jade was more of a lady’s type.” The mother of the twins said with a hint of pride and sarcasm.

“That may be true, they may be very different but if you look closer they’re very similar too.”

“Ah, so basically they have the same chances?”

Just as the father opened his mouth to speak, Floyd tugged at you hard enough for you to trip over your own feet only staying off the floor thanks to Jade’s reflexes.

“[Name], are you alright?” Jade said before looking back at Floyd.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you just let go!” Floyd said in response to his glare.

His father then spoke up again, “More or less.”

[teal-and-crimson]

— treasured map.

SUMMARY: After seeing what has befallen your beloved's back after your late night indulgence you were devastated. He wishes to put your mind at ease. After all, he is still a dragon at soul and dragons love to hoard. Even when it comes to marks you leave.

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 8k.

PAIRING: Sylus × fem!reader (afab)

TAGS AND GENERAL CONTENT WARNINGS. MDNI! 18+ explicit sexual content. porn WITH plot, some fluff is here and there too, established relationships, mentions of body marks, hickeys, love bites, bruises, and a lot of back scratches (kitten got claws), unprotected intercourse, AFTERCARE, oral sex (mentioned, both f & m receiving), freaking in the bathroom, a lot of sweet talk, mild choking, biting, brat taming if you squint, sylus is a bit of a switch, no y/n, not proofread.

A/N. first time writing smut. first time writing for l&ds fandom. first time posting my work on here. a lot of firsts, eh? also, english isn't my first language so I implore you to be kind ♡ if this gets anywhere near enough attention to feed my wounded ego I might consider writing something else, even a part 2, because my mind is infected with sylus and I need to express my love in some way. hope you enjoy!

When you were shaken from a peaceful slumber by a sudden feeling of falling, you found yourself tangled in the sheets, the only light source was a night lamp standing to the left of the bed. You couldn’t recall how exactly you ended up dozing off, but you were convinced there was supposed to be a certain someone to envelope you in a snuggle and warm embrace. Where was he anyway?

You reached with your hand to feel for your phone on the nightstand. The blackout curtains blocked sunlight during the day and moonlight during the night. The only way of telling time was with the help of the screen now illuminating your face.

2:06 A.M.

It’s too early for you, but for Sylus it’s the middle of the day. Well, rather, night. Judging by the sound of running water, he left your shared silken sanctuary for a steaming hot shower. You couldn’t blame him. Not after what you two have done earlier that evening.

You showed up at his estate quite late, Luke and Kieran saw you in before waving you good-bye reasoning their departure with a simple “bossman’s business”. Well, of course, what else could it be? But before they could leave, they told you that the boss in question had been waiting for you for quite some time. The revered leader of Onychinus was a patient man, but you decided against testing said patience, at least for today. Running up the stairs, and taking a few turns, you entered his office with a bright smile plastered across your face.

“Oh, kitten, you are here,” Sylus rose from his chair and reached for the record player. The pleasant melody suddenly cut off and a silence fell on the room, soft and quiet.

“Yes, Mephisto was circling outside my apartment, I figured you wanted to see me,” you walked towards him. “Next time, please, just call me and use your words.”

At that Sylus laughed, “Sweetie, I had nothing to do with it. Mephisto is probably still working off his previous code settings, since I haven’t put a new one in yet.”

“You are a terrible liar,” you said and poked him on the nose.

The gesture made the man furrow his brows as he focused his gaze on your outstretched finger.

“You wound me.”

“The twins told me you were expecting me. Admit it,” your finger was now at the level with his chest, pointing, but not touching. “You sent the crow.”

“I told the twins you would be coming in because I got an unrequested report from Mephisto about your whereabouts and figured that you’d notice him. Which you did,” the smug expression on his face made you squint your eyes. “And I also figured you’d think I am asking you to come and see me. Which you also did.”

“Oh, so now you’re calling me predictable,” you threw your hands up in the air and turned on your hill, with your back facing Sylus. “So, this is what I’m here for? To be insulted.”

You couldn’t put a few steps between the two of you before Sylus caught your wrist and spun you back around to face him. As your eyes met all the fight you had in your chest seemed to evaporate. The crimson gems now looking at you were piercing through your very heart, making the blood rush to your cheeks.

“I would never insult you, my darling,” he said in the most sincere and sweet voice you ever heard him use. “I’m glad you came. We haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Yes, I’m sorry, there’s been a lot to deal with at work. The reports just do not seem to end,” you chuckled looking up at him. The position you were in was rather provocative, you would only need to pull at his neck and raise on your toes to reach for the lips you missed so much. But would he want that?

Sylus wanted more than just a kiss, as it turned out. Whatever business he had in his office was long forgotten as he pushed you towards the bed in his room, simultaneously unbuttoning the pants you had on.

“I’ve missed this,” he said, kneeling and tugging the fabric covering your thighs down. “I’ve missed you. You’re cruel for depriving me of your presence for so long.”

“It wasn’t me, there has been a surge of wanderers on the outskirts of the city and they— Ah…”

The searing trail of kisses he left from your navel and lower would have made you fall backwards, had he not pushed at the small of your back with his hand. Evidently, Sylus couldn’t care less about the reasoning for your absence. If only you knew that for the past week, he had been tracking said wanderers himself with Mephisto’s help, just in cases you needed any aid; he would have been there in a minute. Luckily, his girl had it all covered. Just like now, she had the most alluring thing in the world covered with the black silk and lace piece. His nose nudged at your right hip bone before traveling closer towards the centre as he inhaled the maddening scent of you.

“Tell me you missed me, too, kitten,” a plea, made in a growl created by the deepest part of his throat.

You looked down to see one of the hottest sights you laid your eyes upon. The pathetic, almost begging gaze Sylus tried to mask with a smile on his lips pulled a giggle out of your throat. That man looked almost at home with your black panties near his face. Black and red go hand in hand. You weren’t sure how he managed to look so in control yet so pliable at the same time.

“I did miss you,” you raised your leg and let it rest on his right shoulder, a gesture most welcomed by the man at your heels, while your hand travelled to tangle in his hair. “And this.”

You pushed his head against you centre and he obliged almost too eagerly. The fingers of his other hand pulled the fabric to the side and you could swear he hummed when his tongue came into contact with the wetness that had gathered between your folds. You were glad the twins were out for business, because you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet for long.

The rest of the evening you spent working through every possible way of compensating for all the time you’ve been apart. There wasn’t a single part of your body Sylus left unworshipped and you made sure to return the favour. When you were laying on your stomach, too spent to turn, or lift yourself up, Sylus gathered you in his hands and carried you to the bathroom. There he made sure you relieved your bladder and then he cleaned you up using a warm towel, peppering your exposed skin with feather-like kisses. By the time he was done you were too languid to be standing and the dim lights of his bathroom were almost lulling you to sleep. You didn’t know how exactly you ended up back on the bed, but the sheets felt different, too crisp in comparison to what you felt before, when Sylus was pinning you against them. When you opened your eyes, you noticed the colour was also different and you looked incredulously at the man that cradled you in his arms.

“Didn’t want you to lay on stained linen,” he whispered kissing the top of your head. “Go to sleep, kitten. I’m going to stay right here with you, I promise.”

You didn’t want to question him, not when his firm chest felt so warm and so right under the side of your face. You wrapped your arm around his torso and tangled your legs with his, and just like that all the worries that were building the anxious wall of thoughts in your head throughout the day turned into dust as you let yourself to doze off.

Now, as you hear the sound of water coming to a halt, the bed started seeming too big for you. You tossed and turned until eventually your face was buried in a pillow on the other side. The fabric smelled too much of an expensive detergent and too little of what you actually craved.

“Liar,” you mumbled to yourself and started rolling on the bed in the direction of the bathroom. Near the edge of the bedframe, you noticed there was a silken bathrobe with a belt attached to it. Judging by the size, it was meant for you. As you raised your upper body from the mattress you couldn’t keep a sudden whine slipping from your lips. Your entire body was protesting against anything that involved you getting out of a horizontal position, but your persistence got the upper hand eventually. You slipped yourself into the bathrobe, loosely tying the ends of the belt around your torso and started walking in the direction of the light in adjoined room.

When you walked in you were greeted with the sight of Sylus’ backside clad in nothing but a white fluffy towel, as he was bending over the sink spitting out the remnants of the toothpaste. Crossing your arms you leaned against the doorframe as you took in the absolute eye candy that was now on display.

“A fruit vendor with a bakery business on the side I see,” you thought to yourself as a wicked smile was now sprawling across your face. With a view like that there wasn’t a slither of sleep left in your eyes. You were so mesmerized by the way the towel dipped and curved around his ass you didn’t notice that the man himself was now looking at you in the mirror, smiling as if he were a cat that caught a little mouse.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, straightening up and putting the toothbrush inside the hidden compartment behind the mirror.

“How did you kn—” your teasing response got caught in your throat when your eyes landed on Sylus’ back.

It was red. Screaming, angry, violent red. You uncrossed your arms and straightened yourself. You couldn’t do that? Right? You scratched at him in the heat of the moment but it was only a couple of times, not a hundred! But to counter these arguments the evidence was right in front of you. There wasn’t a single patch of skin on his back that didn’t bear your marks. Everything, from his broad sinewy shoulders down to the small of his back had lines, upon lines, upon lines left by your expressive fingers. You scanned it one more time, noticing there was no blood and a part of your mind calmed down a little. But the other part... Oh, it started eating at your very soul.

You took a step closer; your eyes didn’t leave his back for a second. The sight was so agonizing you couldn’t even blink. You stretched out your hand to trace along these lines but caught yourself before your fingers made contact with his skin.

“Sylus...” you began, your voice quiet, shaky. You could feel your eyes watering but you mentally slapped yourself across the cheek. This wasn’t about you. This was about what you have done to him and you had no right to cry. “I am so... So sorry. This— I never meant... You should have said something! I—”

Suddenly, you no longer saw the reddened skin in front of you, instead you were looking at his chest, but even that wasn’t for long, because he gently pulled you by your chin so you would meet his eyes.

“Stop that,” a command, solid and unyielding, yet spoken with the softest and gentlest of voices. “Don’t you dare.”

It was as if you couldn’t hear him. Words started spilling out like a wildfire after catching a stray spark, “Do they hurt? Why didn’t you stop me? I shouldn’t have... This is bad. So bad. I promise I’ll be more careful, please, forgive—”

You couldn’t finish your plea, because your words were caught by the thing your heart cherished the most — the feeling of his lips on yours. This kiss was brief and to the point, its sole purpose to get you to stop talking and it proved to be effective, because now Sylus finally had a say.

“If you apologize to me one more time, I’ll get mad, and you don’t want to see me in such a state, kitten,” his tone was not one bit teasing. He meant what he said, you could see it in his eyes, so you closed your mouth and just gaped at him. You weren’t scared, but there was a part of you that still felt guilty and Sylus sensed it. He rubbed your chin with his fingers and let his gaze soften, while his eyes followed down your body clad in the bathrobe he left out for you. With a simple hum he maneuvered you to stand in front of the mirror, with him behind you. Droplets of water were clinging to his biceps and neck, and you watched him wrap his hands around your torso as he started fiddling with the silken belt around your waist.

“You are so quick to make assumptions, kitten,” his voice had none of that commanding attitude left, instead it took on a more velvety and sultry quality that made you feel weak in your knees. “Seeing my body marked as yours and immediately jumping to a conclusion that I wouldn’t want it being branded as such?”

His hands undid the belt of the robe and it parted slightly, revealing a thin line of your nude form in the mirror. Sylus bent down and put his head on your left shoulder, his eyes fixed on yours.

“You humour me, darling,” he huffed at your neck and straightened back up. “Let me ask you something.”

His hand turned your head to the side with a gentle push of his fingers against your chin, “Do you want me to apologize for this as well?”

When you were finally able to tear your eyes from his and look at your neck the air inside your lungs got trapped. A crimson red circle nestled itself comfortably between your neck and clavicle, and another one, but smaller, was right under it.

“And this?” Sylus’ hand gripped at the side of your robe that covered your chest and pulled it to the side. The skin of your right breast had a hickey and two distinctive bite marks, and the nipple seemed to be a darker shade than usual. When he bared your chest fully, sliding the robe off your shoulders, you saw a trail of love bites and red marks sprawled in a beautiful map all over your upper body and a shaky breath left your mouth.

“What about this?” Sylus gathered your robe and tugged it down to fall onto the floor, forgotten. He traced the marks on either side of your hips that resembled his fingers in a splatter of maroon hues and then he pulled at your inner thigh, prodding you to open your legs to reveal a bite that was blooming in a ruby red just below your cunt. “Your skin comes to its most tender when we’re away from each other for too long. Should I be begging for your forgiveness for all of this, my darling?”

“No,” the answer came naturally to you and so quick it subconsciously made you question things about yourself. Refusing his apology seemed easier than the act of breathing. Every mark on your body was telling you a story of the lovemaking you experienced with the man you so dearly missed during one of the busiest work weeks of your life. The one above your right nipple was when he uttered the very first proclamation of love that evening and the one above your hip, he gave you after he repeated himself for the fifth time. The bite on your inner thigh came when you were thrashing in his hands while he seemed to be devouring you whole, and by biting he attempted to persuade you to remain still. The traces of his fingers on either side of your hips were given to you when he grasped at your form as he fucked his release into you for the second time in a row, and you could have sworn this is what heaven would feel like if you were destined to see one. If you could frame this and put it on the wall, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Pulling you out of your trance, Sylus kissed you lightly on the shoulder, “Do you get it now? The marks you leave are my most prized possessions at the moment.”

His nose was now buried in your neck, as he breathed in your essence. The way he described it was so close to what you felt inside, but to you... All of the marks he left were just there. Even if they caused you any discomfort, they made you feel at home. The absolute massacre on his back couldn’t come anywhere near this feeling, right?

As if he could sense the formation of bubbling self-loathing thoughts dimming the brightness of this moment Sylus locked his eyes with yours once again.

“Well, if you’re going to be stubborn about it, I have no other choice but to prove my stance on the matter,” with that he spun you around and hoisted you up by the hips, making your rear land on a marble table adjoined with the sink. You yelped at the sudden change in positions, but still wrapped your legs around him almost instinctively.

“What are you doing?” your hands remained to either side of your legs while the man caressed your waist and back.

“I’m going to fuck you now and you are going to enjoy every second,” the bluntness of his words caught you off guard. He seemed amused by the way your eyes were blown wide, so he chuckled before continuing.

“I will make you claw at my back again even if it is the last thing I do on this damned planet, kitten. After all, there’s no such thing as too much treasure,” he started kissing your neck and guided your hand from the table to rest on his shoulder. When your fingertips met the hot skin of his back it was like someone emptied a bucket of ice-cold water over your head.

“Sylus, no!” you snatched your hand away from his grasp and put it on his chest, pushing firmly. “Those are too fresh, I don’t want to cause you pain!”

“The only pain I feel right now,” he held your hand and pushed it in the centre of his chest, “is here. The pain of my beloved refusing to ruin me.”

“Sylus, please...”

“Stop worrying and let me make you feel good,” the look in his eyes was full of love and raw unparalleled need. “Will you?”

He pushed himself between your thighs and when you looked down you could see the front of the towel bulging around his crotch. Did he get all riled up this quickly?

“Seeing your body adorned with my marks makes me want to leave even more of them. I just wish you’d return the sentiment,” the words were practically purred against your ear and if you weren’t wet and ready before, you definitely were now. He nuzzled his nose against your hair, inhaling deeply, and then he strayed lower, to the side of you neck that had the most of the marks. Before you could even think about containing your strangled moan it left your mouth in a breathy sensual manner, as he attached his lips to the reddened spot that was already there. As he sucked and nibbled at it, you put the heels of your feet into his back, pulling him flash against your bare cunt.

“Sylus…”

“Yes, dear?” The mark he disturbed was blurring your mind and you had to take a deep breath to focus your eyes on the surroundings.

Oh, also that feigned innocence in his voice made your blood boil. There he stood in all his glory, grinding his hard length against you, making you whine and hunger for more. The towel around his hips was surely ruined with how slick you were. You pushed yourself impossibly close to him and moved your hips, both hands now resting on his chest.

“If there’s something you desire, you need only ask,” he whispered in your ear and you went limp. How does he manage to pull at every possible string to unravel you in the span of a few minutes? This man was out of this world.

“Take this off,” your hand went down his abdomen and tugged at the white cotton cloth.

“Ah, I see, someone’s eager,” Sylus smiled down at you smugly and quickly undid the knot, finally freeing his erect length out of its confines.

“Yes, you are,” with that you wrapped your hand around his girthy hard cock and started leisurely pumping it up and down. The few drops of precum were forming at the very tip and you eagerly used whatever lubrication they provided. Sylus hissed at your little torture and bucked his hips into your hand ever so slightly, before he suddenly let out that rich, delicious laugh.

“As much as I love you doing that, this is not the part of my body I need your hands on now,” he swiftly freed himself from your grasp and started pulling your hand upwards. Your fingers brushed a splatter of white hair that were trailing up to his navel, then his hard abs, then it was his pecs, flexing enticingly and after followed the beautiful curve and dip of his clavicle and neck. And, when your hand reached the back of his shoulder, your body stilled.

“I think my kitten needs something else to focus on,” his hand left yours to stay flat on the top of his shoulder and then he moved his own south, between your bodies pressed tightly against each other. When the tips of his fingers touched your clit you grasped at his shoulder tightly, while your other hand flew to his bicep instead. “So wet for me, good girl.”

Sylus flicked at your bundle of nerves, drawing fast, hard circles around it before dipping his hand lower, allowing himself to sink into your welcoming heat with just a single finger at first. When your walls flattered around him and your head got thrown back, you found yourself pressed into his other hand, as he cradled the back of your head, not letting it come into contact with the cold wall behind.

“Careful there, sweetie,” he murmured as his ring finger joined his middle one in stretching you out. Every thrust of his hand felt like torture, his thumb circled your clit drawing more and more whimpers out of your mouth and Sylus just watched. Drinking in every expression, every emotion, every twitch of your face contorting in pleasure. When he curled his fingers inside you, prodding at that sweet spot, you had to pull every ounce of self-control to not dig your fingernails into his exposed skin. Instead, you dragged your hand into a fist and bit you lip.

“Oh, no, that won’t do,” he lowered his head and bit down on your neck, hard and angry. You wailed in his embrace, walls cramping around his digits as your hips were trying to get more friction than he was providing, but the feeling of his teeth sinking into your skin like a honey comb made your insides tremble.

“Sylus! Sylus, ah, please!”

“Hm,” he raised his head and looked at you through half-lidded eyes incredulously. “What was that, kitten? Do you want me to stop?”

At that you put the hand on the back of his head and pushed it against the other side of your neck, “Again. Do this again.”

“But you were screaming just now, I thought I accidentally hurt you, my sweet,” the sarcasm that was dripping from his voice almost made you snarl. What an arse. You pulled at his head again and crushed his lips into yours. Not wasting any time, you plunged your tongue into his mouth, lapping hungrily, while your hips kept riding his hand. Sylus chuckled against your lips, but complied and engaged in the dance you initiated. The hand he kept behind your head was slowly withdrawn, allowing you to cool against the marble wall, while he grasped at the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Your hands remained still, caging his neck but not moving, only caressing his soft skin, and Sylus realized that you were still holding onto that wicked idea of restraining your primal urges. This annoyed him to no end, so he started parting his fingers within you, stretching your walls that were so snuggly enveloping him in their warmth. The moan you let out when you felt it almost made him spill right that moment and it took an insane amount of self-control to prevent it. He growled in your neck when his hips twitched, and the head of his cock prodded against your glistening folds. But what actually grounded him in that moment was the sensation of your hand, dragging between his shoulder blades. There. He had you.

Even though it was just the position of your hand and no actual pressure, he knew that you were close to caving in. He just needed to use the right push. He gave your clit a few more circles with his thumb and freed his hand from its warm prison and the disappointed huff you let out was easily the sweetest thing he ever heard.

“You are being mean,” you whined looking up at him, not even realizing that both of your hands were now touching his back.

Sylus raised the hand he was pleasuring you with to his lips and opened his mouth. The way he started slowly sucking at the slender digits put you in a sort of trance. Even if a wanderer burst through a near wall, screaming and wailing, you wouldn’t be able to tear your gaze away from his blissed-out expression as he tasted your wetness on his fingers. This was diabolical, filthy, lewd and so. damn. sexy.

When he was satisfied with the clean appearance of his hand, he freed his mouth and looked down at you hungrily, “I wish you could see yourself right now, sweet thing. You look absolutely ravishing.”

“Ravish me, then,” you called, you voice coming out more needy than you intended.

“Bold kitten. I like that,” he lowered his head and pressed a chaste peck on your lips. “But I need you to promise me something before I comply.”

“Anything,” if he wanted the world, you would give it to him. If he wanted the world to burn, you would char it until nothing but ashes remained.

“Do not,” he looked down and took his cock in one hand, positioning it right at your entrance, “hold yourself,” the tip smeared against your folds, getting coated with a good layer of slick that covered them, “back.”

When he finished the phrase you choked on a sob, eyes wet, and round, and pleading, “I won’t, I promise. Sylus, I need to feel you, please. Please…”

“Alright then,” and finally, finally you felt it, inch by agonizing inch of his hard member entering your greedy pussy. There was no point in containing your moans, not with him. You pressed your forehead against his, seeing his eyes pinned to the sight of your body stretching out to accommodate his girth. That in itself was a work of art for him, your body a perfect fit. When he bottomed out, he felt your hands on his back digging into his skin ever so slightly and in that moment, he swore he could see stars.

“Remember, darling, you promised,” suddenly his hands were on your hips and his eyes were locked with yours. He started pulling his cock out slowly, almost lazily, before slumming his hips back inside with a hard thrust. And still, your hands remained motionless, even when your eyes rolled back in extasy. That wasn’t enough. He needed more. Sylus put his other hand on your breasts, massaging it and making your nipple pebble, then he dipped his head and sucked it into his mouth. Your walls spasmed around his cock and the sensation made him straighten back up to look into your eyes.

“You are so fucking tight, sweetie,” he breathed out heavily. “So fucking good for me.”

“Sylus, please…”

“What is it, my heart?”

“Harder…” was all you could manage to say. The way he was rocking your world with every movement should have left an impression of being “too much” if someone were to look upon the two of you, but in reality, it was hardly enough. The hunger you felt for this man could never be satiated, not even when you felt like his cock was sure to pierce you all the way to your throat.

He laughed, one of your favourite sounds to come from him, second only to that little moan you once heard him letting out when he fucked you from behind.

“Insatiable little thing,” he left your breast alone and pressed the tips of his fingers to your clit instead. The pace he built was brutal, not fast, just brutal. With every thrust he seemed to enter deeper and deeper. “You are not holding up to your end of the deal, my love. I don’t want your nails digging into your palms,” he took one of your hands, tugging it in front of your face. It was true, the hand was clenched in a fist, knuckles white, and it was only then you felt the pain seeping through your skin. Sylus straightened your fingers, his hips not slowing down for a second, and then he placed your hand on his back once again. “Ruin me. Ruin me and I will ruin you.”

You pulled at his head instead and crushed him with your lips. Biting hard, you hungrily sucked on the bottom one as he returned the favour by going for your top lip. He started moving your hips with his hand, letting you fuck yourself on his cock, every vein and ridge made you moan into his mouth. You weren’t kissing him; you were trying to eat this man alive. Merge him with yourself, mould him against your own body so you would never part. He would let you, he would gladly be yours, but at the moment he was quick to figure out the game you were playing. Suddenly, his movements stilled and he tore his lips away from yours. You looked at him, squinting and tugging at his neck once again, but he didn’t budge.

“This is not what I meant,” he exhaled sharply when your walls spasmed around him, urging him to move again, but he persisted, staying still, his dick nestled inside you, torturing you by the lack of motion. “You probably still think that the marks on my back cause me pain. Well, allow me to put your mind at ease, sweetheart. I want to feel it. I want to feel my skin burn every time the fabric of my shirt touches it. I want your marks to sink so deep into my back they never fade away. I need every breath I take to be a reminder of how good I made you feel,” the fervour with which he was saying it made your heart beat faster. “Can you do that for me? Please, darling. Be a good kitten and use,” he pulled himself out of your heat almost entirely, “your,” both of his hands lifted you off the table by your hips, “claws,” and with that last word he quickly hoisted you up and just as quickly he dropped you down on his cock. That new angle alone made the entire room go white; you screamed so loudly it left ringing in your ears.

Instinctively, your hands went to steady yourself on his shoulders and when he dropped you down again you lost your balance and fell on him from above. Your hands slipped, and now you were clinging onto his back like a marionette, whose every string was pulled by the very man who was rearranging your insides with every thrust. Your hands gripped, and ripped, and clawed, the cries coming out of your mouth lost all sense and meaning. You screamed every word that came to mind. Please. Yes. There. More. More. More. And then, there was his name. Oh, his name was the most frequent on your lips. And in return you heard your very own called by the deep and demanding tone. Every time your nails scraped at his skin, he hit the spot inside you a little harder, his pelvis rubbing your clit with more precision, so you indulged him.

The deep red of his back went deeper still, as you clung to the only thing that could ground you right now. As you went all in on the expanse of his back, Sylus groaned and stepped towards the wall. One of his hands left your body. He was insanely strong, as he still managed to fuck you up and down on his cock with just one arm. As he cradled your head once again to ensure you wouldn’t hit your head on the impact, he threw the two of you against the wall.

You scratched his back one more time, and his cock bullied its head against your cervix, now hitting impossibly deep within your quivering walls. Then, you buried one of your hands in his silver locks, pulling on them and making his lips pop with a loud noise while you practically dragged him away from your neck. You knew there would be a new mark blooming when the sun rises.

“Is this what you wanted?” you asked with a ragged breath and another drag of your nails across the plain of his back. His eyes... Oh, these gorgeous red orbs rolled back in ecstasy and you almost came undone by the sheer sight of pleasure contorting his face.

“Ye— Yes...”

Your pussy cramped around his cock involuntarily. You never had a chance to hear him sound this desperate, this needy, this pathetic. Now that was the hottest thing to be heard, you were certain.

“I’ve ruined you, my love,” you placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth, not stopping the rolling motion of your hips, as you rubbed yourself against him. “It’s only fair you return the favour.”

He released the back of your head gently, only to wrap his fingers around your throat, squeezing lightly, as his lips collided with yours in a fervent, searing kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, moving in and out, matching the pace of his hips, swallowing every moan you had to offer. If you thought the pace he set before was brutal, now it just got downright vicious. You were glad you had a break from work, because tomorrow you won’t be able to stand, let alone walk. Sylus lost himself completely, with your hands now under his arms, clawing at the middle of his back and your lips so soft on his own, he felt not like a man, but a sacrifice. A sacrifice to the most divine creatures of all in his world — you.

The hand on your neck travelled down and down, past the valley of your breasts and your navel, to tangle in a splatter of hair you had above your cunt and then he found you clit, stimulating it with a few flicks of his fingers. Your entire body tensed and you tore yourself away from his lips.

“Sylus! Too... Too much, I can’t—”

“Relax, you can handle it, sweetie. Here, bite down on my shoulder,” you didn’t stop to think about his proposal, you just went for it as his hand guided you lower. In the state you were in right now he could have told you to do a handstand and you would oblige. You sank your teeth into his skin and it did help you steady your spinning mind, but the groan that fell from Sylus’ lips went straight down to your soaked cunt. The release that had been building up in your lower stomach for quite some time suddenly erupted, and hot tears fell from your eyes as you felt his hips stutter. Your walls spasmed, and clenched, and begged for him to fill you up, while his cock dragged, and moved, and prayed for them to keep on going. In that silent exchange of pleas, you found yourself limp against his moving form, but still desperately clinging to his body. He kept rubbing your clit to prolong the waves of orgasm that shook you. You dropped your head on his shoulder, one hand in his hair, soothing your man tenderly and the other still on his back.

“I’m close,” he huffed through gritted teeth and you knew it was true, because his thrusts had grown erratic and unpredictable.

“Please, Sylus,” you whispered in his ear. “Please, come inside me. I need to feel you. Now,” you dragged your hand from his left shoulder to the right, leaving a new trail of red lines on his back and that was enough for Sylus to press you flat against the wall as he emptied himself inside your flattering cunt. He was coming for a long time, probably the longest you’ve ever felt him come and it inflated your ego to a whole new level. He filled you so deliciously, the warmth that bloomed inside your stomach made the world around you spin. When he finally stilled, dump forehead pressed against your shoulder, you cooed and kissed him on the temple.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice rasp from all the screams he had pulled out of your sore throat. You felt the mess you made between the two of you, because his release was now dripping from your hole, still stretched around his softened length.

“No, darling, thank you,” he kissed you tenderly on the mouth and brow, before looking deep into your eyes.

You were standing there in each other’s embrace, eyes locked in the soft and quiet exchange of love. You smiled and he licked his lips, looking at you, mesmerized. That was your favourite part of having sex with Sylus. The moments after. In the fading heat of pleasure, the flares of love you shared were almost palpable. When he shifted ever so slightly under you, you winced. Yes, in the fading heat there was also the aftermath of your activities to consider, because your plump and tender folds seemed to be screaming for a break.

Sylus saw the expression on your face and caressed your cheek slowly with a thumb, “I’m going to pull out now, brace yourself on my shoulders and I’ll carry you to a bath.”

You did as he bid you and soon you found yourself seated in a bubbly warm water, while Sylus hugged you from behind, tenderly washing away any sweat and cum that still remained on your body. When he washed between your thighs, he was extremely careful, whispering sweet things into your ear, pulling all of your attention to his words, and not the tingling sensation that gathered there. You were still sore and he couldn’t allow you to seduce him into another round, for your own sake.

“I want to wash your back,” you said after a while. He hummed and pushed you away from him, so he could turn around and kneel in the bath. When you saw his skin, your jaw dropped. Every line, every scratch and every mark screamed ‘mine’ scribbled in your writing. The pang of guilt still remained, nestled deep within your heart, but it wasn’t as loud as when you first entered the bathroom. Now, to counter it there were the sounds Sylus made as he slammed you harder into the wall every time you touched his back, and that little “Yes” that he whimpered… Some day this will be your undoing.

You ran the water from the shower head nearby, cold and soothing, and he murmured something about it feeling nice. You gingerly patted his shoulders, the middle of his back and then lower, as the markings turned light pink. You tried to hold yourself off, but the urge to kiss them was stronger, so you lowered your head attaching your lips to the centre of his back, tenderly.

“Kitten…”

There it was, that smooth voice you would die for.

“Yes, my love?”

“What are you doing?”

“Admiring my work.”

His head snapped to the side as he tried to catch your eyes with his, attempting to find a single hint of lying, but there was none. It was true, the idea of him being in any sort of discomfort because of you still rubbed you the wrong way, but the fact that he himself enjoyed it. This allowed you to enjoy it a tiny bit as well.

The two of you got out of the shower some time later, Sylus wrapped you in a towel and directed you to find another bathrobe in the closet he specifically filled with every possible thing you could have a need to wear. You picked the white nightgown and a robe that was going all the way to your ankles, foregoing the underwear. Who knows, the night is still young.

Sylus came out of the shower completely naked, drying his hair with a towel. As he entered his closet and secured a bathrobe with a belt he walked up to you, a soft smile on his lips, “Are you hungry? It dawned on me I haven’t fed you anything since you stepped into the N109 zone.”

“Well, technically, you did feed me something,” you teased, reminiscing the way he had you on your knees earlier that evening.

A throaty laugh reverberated in a dimly lit room, “That can hardly count as nourishing, sweetie. Come, I’ll cook something for you.”

As you were sitting on a kitchen counter Sylus sliced at vegetables and herbs he planned to add to the meat that was searing on the stainless steal skillet, periodically checking on the water he left to boil for pasta. You hummed the lines of the song that has been stuck in your head for a while…

“Through the cold, I’ll find my way back to you… Oh, please, give me mercy no more…”

Your melodic singing was abruptly cut by a grating assault on the next set of notes, “That’s a kindness you can’t afford…”

You decided to let the singing part slide and instead focused your attention on the line Sylus chimed in with, “You know this song?”

“That’s my favourite one on the album,” the smile on his lips was almost suggestive, as he dropped a box of farfalle into the boiling water.

“You’re kidding!”

“No, he’s not,” two voices cut in. The twins marched into the kitchen with Mephisto flying in after them. The bird landed on a table and cawed loudly.

“He blasts it each time it comes on queue,” Kieran said matter-of-factly.

“Boss, the deal is done.”

“Yeah, we gathered all the intel you required, the papers are in your office.”

“Good,” Sylus tossed the vegetables in for a sauté. “Wash your hands now, the two of you.”

“Oooh! You’re our chef tonight! What’s for dinner?” Luke hopped to Sylus’ side on one foot. Despite the fact that these two were dealing with some dangerous things on the daily, they seemed to be still very childish and carefree; you found it endearing.

Kieran walked up to you and said, “Bossman loves to sing that particular song in the shower. See, the vents go right under my room, so I know what I’m talking about.”

You almost choked on the water you were sipping. Good thing the twins were out for business, because them hearing what you and Sylus had been up to in his shower was the last thing you’d want.

“Ahem, wow, poor you,” you said, setting the glass down.

“Poor? Kitten, he should count himself lucky! I don’t often give off private concerts.”

“Yeah, I’m lucky alright,” Kieran said aloud before adding a strangled whisper only for you to hear, “Lucky to survive.”

“Remind me to cut your allowance in half,” of course Sylus heard that.

“No need, bossman, your voice is my favourite sound to wake up to,” Kieran said it so sweetly you almost believed it yourself.

You stifled a laugh and watched the twins leaving the room, presumably to change and wash their hands. When Sylus served the three of you the dinner, he so attentively prepared, you finally realized how hungry you were. The plate was clean within minutes. When everyone was done with their supper the twins started working on cleaning the kitchen while the two of you watched as Mephisto walked from one end of the table to the other, cawing every so often. When the bird walked up to Sylus he patted its head with his finger.

“Thanks for assistance, buddy, she appeared here according to your meticulous calculations,” he whispered under his breath.

“Hey, I heard that! So you did sent him after all!”

“Guilty as charged,” Sylus laughed, mockingly throwing his hands up in the air. “Are you cross with me, sweetheart? There’s always a way for you to take it out on me.”

His right hand reached across his chest and Sylus patted himself on the back. Your cheeks turned bright red.

“Animal,” you huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Don’t let it in with no intention to keep it, sweetie.”

“Seriously? I thought we gave you enough time,” Luke cried from the side of the sink.

“Don’t eavesdrop!” Kieran hit him on the head with a wooden spoon and the two of you sitting at the table burst out laughing at their banter.

When Sylus and you retreated back to his room you collapsed on the bad exhausted, the soreness between your thighs finally let itself known and you complained loudly.

“I have a few things in mind that could ease the pain,” Sylus suggested cheekily.

“Do any of these things involve your face buried between my legs?” you asked settling yourself comfortably as Sylus spooned you.

“A couple of them do, after all I haven’t had any dessert after such a filling dinner,” he murmured in your ear.

“Sounds tempting but right now I just want to sleep. Don’t leave my side,” the last sentence was a command and it made the man chuckle.

“As you wish. Do you have anywhere you need to be tomorrow?”

“No, I’m free till twenty-fifth,” you mumbled.

“Oh, that means we’ve got the whole week!”

“Yeah, that will get my hole weak,” the words fell from your mouth before you could catch them. Damn the internet and damn those witty comments.

“What was that?” he laughed in your ear and you squirmed.

“Nothing! Go to sleep!”

“Alright, alright. But as soon as we wake up, I’ll start planning a quick getaway for us, just you and me. You deserve a break after all the work they’ve put you through,” he kissed the top of your head. “Sweet dreams, kitten.”

“Good night, my love…” those were the last words you uttered, blissfully content with the feeling of the warm body pressed against yours from behind. The marks on your skin were tingly and hot, but they felt like a map leading to the discovery of your treasured love, whose soft breath was landing on your head every other moment and whose hands were holding you like you were the most important thing in the whole wide world. So, you didn’t mind them. You didn’t mind at all.

A/N p.2.: is sylus a masochist? idk don't ask me. well, he did ask mc to kill him once, just saying.

© All rights reserved. You DO NOT have my permission to translate, plagiarize, copy, modify, republish my work or repost it on any other platform in any way.

[lexirosewrites]

Early submission for slick Sunday:

Omega Steve is disowned by his parents before he can graduate high school, so he drops out to afford rent and bills by working odd jobs around town. He doesn’t mind it, but a lot of people are hesitant to hire an omega as a handyman because they’re still very old school in Hawkins.

Cue Wayne Munson being so busy working at the plant, he doesn’t have time to fix the little things around the house and his nephew just “ain’t that handy and I’d rather pay someone to do it right than risk it worse than it started.”

Steve gets a call nearly once a week from him. First is fixing the bottom porch step so Eddie stops tripping on the damn thing. Then it’s fixing the fan in the bathroom so they don’t have a mold problem on top of all their other problems. Eventually it’s mowing the grass and picking up groceries.

Steve loves it, and gives him a hell of a discount because he loves it so much. It feels like he’s taking care of a home, of people who he genuinely cares about. Even though he’s yet to see Eddie in person, he carries the notes he leaves him in his wallet.

Leftovers in the fridge if you want. Wayne apparently thinks I need three meals in one

Left the porch light on since I’ll be back late. Be safe

Found this flower in the yard this morning. Thought you’d like it

Steve has a crush on someone he’s never actually talked to. He doesn’t even know for sure if he’s an alpha.

He finds out for sure when Wayne calls him one Monday morning bright and early and apologizes for bothering him over something so stupid, but could he please go check on Eddie at the trailer? He’s been sick for over a day and was supposed to call Wayne at work this morning but didn’t, and didn’t answer any of Wayne’s calls either.

Steve agrees, no charge, because he doesn’t have anywhere to be until lunchtime anyway when he’s cleaning Ms. Hill’s gutters.

The trailer smells a bit sour, remnants of the coffee Wayne probably made hours ago still lingering, but the main smell is sick alpha. He rushes to make tea, knowing exactly where Wayne keeps everything, and then figures out if he has time to run to the store to get stuff for homemade soup when Eddie’s bedroom door opens.

Love at first sight only happens in movies, or so Steve thought.

Eddie is flush, sweaty, hair a tangled mess, shirtless, and miserable.

Steve wants to tuck him into bed and lay on top of him so he never leaves.

If Eddie felt better, he’d probably do something about the way Steve looks at him, or the way Steve smells, or the way he’s wanted Steve since he first saw him his freshman year of high school. He wants him just as much now, maybe more.

Steve calls Wayne to let him know he’s alive, and that he’s gonna take care of him as much as he can. Eddie sits at the table sipping tea, listening to the promises Steve makes.

Steve has to reschedule with Ms. Hill, who understands when he explains that he’s taking care of his alpha.

He doesn’t leave Eddie’s side until Wayne is home that night, and that’s only because it felt inappropriate to be half naked in bed with his nephew while they talked. Wayne asks if he can come back the next day and if he doesn’t mind taking payment when he gets his next paycheck.

Eddie’s face falls when he thinks that Wayne is paying him to be there.

“I’ll come. No need to pay me. I’d like to take care of him.”

And he does.

Eddie gets better much faster with Steve taking care of him, and Steve feels proud of himself that he did so well. He nursed Eddie back to health the way good omegas should.

There’s a note on the door when Steve comes back a few days later. It’s addressed to Steve.

Meet me at the pool tonight at 10? - Ed

Steve leaves the pool with a boyfriend and a courting gift: one single sunflower that Eddie found on the side of the road.

Two weeks later, he has a mate and a whole bouquet of sunflowers that Eddie used all of his money to buy for his omega.

so cute!!!🥰

[cazort]

okay so like...I get where the OP is coming from and on some level i agree but i want to throw out something to put this all in perspective

probably my favorite fandom of all time is Star Trek. i especially love TNG, also love TOS, DS9, VOY, and some of the rest.

now IMHO Star Trek has suffered from "nu trek" whereby people like JJ Abrams and Alex Kurtzman totally warped Star Trek into something that totally abandons the wholesome, feel-good, idealistic roots and creates something that to me seems just like trashy, violent action films.

and it's considered "canon".

and then some people are out here shitting on some teenager drawing kirk/spock fan art without actually watching TOS?

like i'm sorry, no. you go, do your thing. i don't care if you write a whole bunch of fics that totally contradict canon. it's already been done a thousand times over. and it didn't hurt anyone.

i hate what JJ Abrams and Alex Kurtzman did though. like these two? they didn't even watch the whole series and they fucking created new professionally-created works in the official canon. JJ Abrams didn't even fucking LIKE Star Trek. like seriously what the fuck? like i'm sorry but what a complete shit thing to do for a studio to put a man like that in charge. like that's how you destroy a franchise.

i hate what our society is becoming and i see a direct relationship between the way we tell stories, the types of TV and movies our society creates, and the way our society is becoming.

we need to get a sense of perspective. people making fan-art and writing fan-fic that is ill-informed might be mildly irritating from time to time (often it's totally harmless) but at worst, it has only a tiny negative effect on our world.

people like JJ Abrams? he's to Star Trek what Trump is to the US Government and political system. I hate Alex Kurtzman's influence significantly less than JJ Abrams but I still think he's done a lot more damage than any fan artist or fanfic author ever has.

these are the types of people we need to be focusing on. and we need to like...stop harassing people with no influence and start harassing these overprivileged people. like both JJ Abrams and Alex Kurtzman are RICH AS FUCK. i want them fired. i want studios to like...recall those two shit trek movies.

yeah i'm militant about this shit.

and you know? there are like...things like this in other fandoms too. this is just one fandom. TV execs can do some awful, awful things. like look at what they have done with Marvel and DC alike, they have taken a lot of works that were originally politically subversive and they've turned them into cheap hero worship action films that often have deep authoritarian tendencies, MCU films especially.

it's sick and people don't talk about it enough. stop harassing small creators. start harassing the studios and top execs. like i want to see these studios driven completely out of business, i want these formerly rich execs to see their careers ruined, i want their big homes foreclosed, i want them to struggle to find work anywhere in their industry.

not to be a killjoy but it's still crazy to me that it's considered mean to be like "maybe you should read / play / watch the source material before creating fanworks and diving into the fandom" bc every time i see somebody going "i havent played disco elysium or know anything about it tbh but uwu here's harry and kim kissing" idk maybe you should engage with it. maybe you should play the anti-capitalist surrealist game where you investigate the murder of a mercenary who led the gang rape of a foreign girl and process that for a bit? and then you can do cutesy mlm or whatever idc. but like at the absolute bare minimum you should understand what the source material involves otherwise we get the phenomenon of people joining a dragon age server and wanting content warnings for like, mage racism. like it's fine to ship and transform the genre into whatever but if you arent comfortable with discussions of the actual source content itself then maybe the fandom isnt for you and a different one is. peace and love.

[dearlenore]

CALICO CRITTERS • S.REID

SUMMARY: You’ve wanted a baby for weeks, but the fear of Spencer saying no has kept you silent. You can’t imagine life without him, so what happens if this is the one thing you can’t agree on? Well you decide a miniature model might help.

PAIRING: fem!reader x Spencer Reid

tags: reader is not in the bau , reader wants a baby, PURE domestic fluff, that’s about it

a/n: WHAT THE HELL IS SURGERY 🦅 🇺🇸 (my health insurance is currently ugly crying.)

w/c: 2.0K

THE IDEA HAD been gnawing at you for weeks, lingering in the quiet moments between cases, in the spaces where Spencer’s hand brushed against yours, in the warmth of his voice as he absentmindedly explained some obscure fact about human genetics.

You wanted a baby.

It wasn’t a fleeting thought or a sudden whim. It was a longing that settled deep in your chest, warm and insistent. You could picture it so clearly—tiny fingers curling around yours, sleepy murmurs in the early hours, a life that was half you and half him. The thought alone made your heart ache with how much you wanted it.

But there was one problem.

You didn’t know if Spencer did.

You had talked about a lot of things in your relationship—marriage, careers, books, music, philosophy, even which way the toilet paper roll should face (you’d conceded that one to him). But kids? That conversation had never come up. You knew about his past, about his fears of inheriting his mother’s schizophrenia, about the scars left by the kind of loss that carves itself into a person’s soul.

You didn’t want to push him. You didn’t want to bring it up in a way that would make him feel cornered. But the longer you sat with the thought, the heavier it became.

So, you decided on a different approach.

Spencer wasn’t due home for another two hours, which gave you plenty of time. You set up the scene meticulously on the coffee table, adjusting each tiny figure until it looked just right.

Calico Critters.

You had loved them as a child, their little felted bodies and tiny, detailed furniture making up entire worlds in your head. And Spencer—well, he appreciated anything that involved miniature models.

At the center of your setup stood a small family: two rabbits—one male, one female—positioned just so, their little paws almost touching. Between them sat a baby, wrapped in the smallest blanket you could find in the set. A family.

Your heart pounded as you stepped back to admire your work. It was subtle enough not to seem like a confrontation but meaningful enough that Spencer would notice. He always noticed.

You barely had time to settle onto the couch before you heard the sound of his key in the lock.

“Hey, I’m home,” he called, his voice warm with exhaustion.

You turned, watching as he stepped inside, shrugging off his bag and jacket. His hair was slightly tousled, his shirt wrinkled from a long day. He looked beautiful, even like this—especially like this.

“Hi,” you said, offering him a small smile. “Rough day?”

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Morgan and Garcia spent the entire day arguing about the statistical probability of winning the lottery. I think I lost brain cells just listening to them.”

You laughed softly as he finally noticed the coffee table.

He froze mid-step.

You held your breath.

“What’s this?” he asked, tilting his head. He crouched down, examining the little family you had set up. You watched as his fingers carefully adjusted the baby’s blanket, his brow furrowing in curiosity.

You swallowed hard. “I was… setting up a scene,” you said lightly. “It looked kind of empty without the baby.”

Spencer’s fingers stilled. You saw the moment realization flickered in his eyes. He turned his head slightly, looking at you through the loose strands of his hair.

Your heart was racing now.

“You’re thinking about kids,” he said quietly.

It wasn’t a question.

You nodded, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “I am.”

A beat of silence.

Spencer’s eyes dropped back to the figures, his expression unreadable.

You felt the air shift, your stomach tightening. Maybe you’d made a mistake. Maybe this wasn’t the right way to bring it up. Maybe he—

“I think about it too.”

Your breath caught.

He was still staring at the figures, his fingers brushing over the tiny baby. “I just… I didn’t know if you wanted that.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your eyes stinging. “Spencer, I want that more than anything.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. He looked at you again, and for the first time, you saw something raw in his expression—hope, fear, longing.

“I’ve always been afraid,” he admitted. “Afraid of what I might pass down. Afraid of being like my father. Afraid that with this job, I’d never be able to keep a child safe.”

You reached forward, taking his hand in yours. “You’re not your father,” you said firmly. “And you’re not alone in this. I know it’s scary, but I also know that if anyone in the world was meant to be a father, it’s you.”

Spencer exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around yours. His thumb rubbed slow lines on your hand.

“I don’t want to be afraid forever,” he murmured.

“You don’t have to be,” you whispered.

A pause.

Then, so softly you almost didn’t hear it—

“…What do you think about names?”

A slow, breathless smile spread across your lips.

You squeezed his hand. “Let’s find out together.”

The bedroom was warm, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Outside, the city hummed quietly, but in here, wrapped in Spencer’s arms, the world felt small—just the two of you and the conversation that lingered between sleepy breaths.

You nestled closer, your head resting against his chest, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers traced lazy circles along your arm, absentminded, soothing.

“Did you really mean it?” you murmured against his skin, you looked up at him happily, a kiss placed to his chest.

Spencer shifted slightly, tilting his head down to look at you. “Mean what?”

“That you think about it, too.”

His hand stilled for just a second before resuming its gentle motion. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I do.” He ran his hand through your hair happily.

Your lips curled into a small smile as you pressed your cheek against his chest. “When did you start thinking about it?”

Spencer let out a quiet hum, his fingers moving up to play with a loose strand of your hair. “I don’t know exactly,” he said, thoughtful. “But I think… it started with you.”

Your heart skipped.

He shifted onto his side, tucking you even closer, his long legs tangling with yours beneath the covers. “Before you, it never felt possible. I had all these fears, these reasons why it wouldn’t work, why I shouldn’t even consider it. But with you, it’s different. It feels… safe. I know I have a lot of… things I could pass down but I have to believe that it’ll be okay.”

Your chest ached in the best way. You reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertips. “I’d want them to have your eyes,” you murmured, your voice thick with affection.

Spencer let out a soft laugh, the kind that rumbled deep in his chest. “Statistically, that depends on dominant and recessive alleles.”

You huffed, playfully rolling your eyes. “Shut up and let me be sentimental.”

His lips twitched, but he obeyed, eyes warm and shining as he looked at you, brushing hair out of your face.

“What else?” he asked after a moment, his voice softer now. “What else do you imagine?”

You sighed dreamily, playing with the fabric of his t-shirt. “I imagine them being curious—like you. Always asking questions, wanting to know how everything works.”

Spencer smiled. “That could be dangerous.”

You grinned. “True. But at least they’d have you to explain things properly.”

His arms tightened around you, and he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I think they’d be kind like you,” he murmured. “Gentle, but strong. The kind of person who makes the world a little softer just by being in it.”

Your throat tightened at the sincerity in his voice. You swallowed, blinking up at him. “We’d make a good team,” you whispered.

Spencer nodded, his gaze full of something deep and certain. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We would.”

Silence settled over you both, comfortable and warm. His fingers found yours beneath the covers, lacing them together.

After a moment, you bit your lip, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Okay, but names—”

Spencer groaned playfully, burying his face against your shoulder. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Absolutely not.”

He chuckled, the sound sending warmth straight through you. “Alright,” he said, tilting his head back. “What’s on your list?”

You grinned, shifting onto your back and pulling him with you so his head rested against your shoulder. “Okay, hear me out—what about something classic? Like Eleanor?”

Spencer hummed. “Eleanor is nice… but what about something literary? Like Jane, for Jane Austen?”

You tapped your chin in thought. “Ooh, that’s cute. But what if we had a boy?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment. Then, hesitantly, he murmured, “Gideon.”

You stilled, glancing down at him. His face was unreadable, but you could hear the weight behind the name, the quiet tribute in it.

Your fingers brushed through his hair. “Gideon Reid,” you said softly, testing the way it sounded. “It’s beautiful, I love it.”

Spencer let out a slow breath, his arms tightening around you. “I think he’d like it too,” he murmured.

You pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Then it’s perfect. Gideon Reid.”

Silence again, but this time, it was filled with something deeper—understanding, love, the quiet promise of a future neither of you had dared to dream about before.

And for the first time, it didn’t feel so far away.

[suiana]

✎ yandere! overachiever fic . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― obsessiveness, kidnapping, pathetic yandere me thinks etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

Life is always unfair. Finn had always known that.

Good grades never came easy. He had to work for it. Same with everything else. And even then

it was never enough.

Not for him, not for anyone else. He would always be subpar, grasping for whatever he could reach.

'Try harder next time.'

It was like, life was trying to taunt him. Trying to taunt him with a goal he'd never be able to reach. It sucked a lot. Because like I said before, he's subpar. Second place. The one choosing, never the chosen.

And then came you. Beautiful, perfect, smart little you. The you that he envied for always stealing first place from him. The you that always had everything handed to them.

You,

you,

you.

The you that suddenly confessed to him, telling him you loved him.

He didn't know what to make of it. Was this some sort of joke? Some... elaborate plan to shake him off balance and prevent him from being a threat? Not like that would ever be likely seeing as how you effortlessly got 100s and he would work his ass off for a measly 95 but anyway!

"You... like me?"

"Yeah, you're everything I want in a guy."

Finn blinked, unsure of how to take this. Was he supposed to reject you? Accept? He barely knew you. In fact, the only thing he really knew was that you were number 1 and always beat him in exams.

"I-"

Your lovely voice interrupts him.

"You don't have to accept. I just wanted to tell you."

Look at you, all red in the face like a blushing scholar. This overachiever doesn't know what to make of it. He's... never been someone who gets confessed to, really. He's never been confessed to before.

Scared? Yeah, he definitely is. What's a perfect person like you doing confessing to him? But more importantly, you've got his attention now.

And he wants to learn more.

"Okay..."

You're beautiful when you're rambling about your interests, Finn thinks. You're rambling off, going on a tangent about your current hyperfixation.

He's not really listening. All of it is going in one year and oning out the other. No, he's too busy admiring... you. As embarrassing as it sounds, mr second place has begun spending time out of his studies to hang out with you. That's what people do when they want to know more about someone, right?

"So what do you think of it?"

Shit.

You're looking at him, all wide eyed and smiley faced waiting for his answer. You're probably interested in what he thinks about your super niche interest. Meanwhile he was too busy thinking of how cute you looked.

"Huh? Uh, oh, it's cool I guess."

Finn raises a hand to rub his neck, offering a half-hearted smile. Shit he's so fucked... Did you aks a question? Are you asking for his opinion on it? Is his answer okay? Pleasetakethebaitpleasetakethebait-

"Really? That's what I thought too!"

Finn feels his shoulders visibly slack. Sheesh, he really got lucky with that one.

But... Why did he even doze off in the first place? He isn't normally this... distracted. Not really. He's always so focused on the present but...

Was he really just interested?

Finn isn't an attractive guy by any means. Or maybe he is and he just doesn't know it. Hey, do you think that's why so many people stare but don't approach? Because he's too sexy? Haha...

He's not that tall, like 5'11 and lanky. Dark hair obviously, and the most nerdy square glasses ever. He also has dark eyes and eyebags. What a shocker. Touching grass? What's that? He only knows how to study.

Not really the most conventional definition of attractive but hey, it could be your cup of tea if that's what you're into.

But...

"You're handsome."

Ah...

Finn feels his cheeks flush red, eyelashes fluttering as he avoids eye contact. What? So suddenly... Like this?

"Uh... Thanks."

Bro. He's actually so cooked. What is this feeling? Is he having a heart attack? There's no reason why his heart should be beating this fast right now.

"You're... You're good looking too."

The poor guy glances at your face, eyeing your expression. Hm... Was that your lip quirking up? Did you like what he said?

Finn grins a little, glancing away. God, you're so cute.

"Hehe I know. Anyway I gotta go, see ya around Finn."

And with that, you were gone again, slipping through his fingers. But he's actually thankful this time. Finn doesn't think he can handle another second with you, not after you smiled so sweetly and called him handsome. Not after calling him by his name with that beautiful voice of yours.

"Fuck..."

His hand slides down his face, eyes dark and eyebags heavy. The tips of his ears burn red, his skin running hit.

"I think I'm in love."

finn: meet me in the library

finn: please?

read at 12.34

Gulps.

It's been approximately 5 minutes since you left him on read and Finn doesn't know how much longer he can spend waiting. His clothes feel all too small, the walls are closing in on him.

Should he just leave? Maybe you're not coming. Why would you? You probably don't care... Maybe you know he's going to confess. That's why you're late. That's why you-

"Hah... Hah... I'm here Finn."

Oh.

Nevermind.

"Oh, you're here."

He pauses. You... had your hands on your knees, panting and sweating like you just ran a marathon.

"Sorry I'm late, I ran all the way from the other side of campus."

Shit, you ran here? That explains why you were breathless and red in the faced. Now he feels bad for thinking you were standing him up.

"You didn't have to..."

But you did. The black haired guy would be on the verge if a mental breakdown if you had arrived just a second later.

Finn glances at you, feeling the familiar warmth enter his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you God... You're beautiful. It doesn't matter what you look like, to him you're absolutely gorgeous.

And then you just had to look at him with those eyes.

"So what's up? Why'd you call me here so suddenly?"

He gulps and looks away, the cold room suddenly feeling all too hot. Geez, they need to turn the AC up in here! He's burning hot.

Mr second place mumbles out something incomprehensible, awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his shirt before facing you again.

"Ahaha... About that... I just... Um..."

Finn's thought this would be easy. He's thought this over in his head a million times while daydreaming about you. While admiring you while you sat in class, thinking about how you'd blush and fawn over him when he finally confessed. While watching you through your window as you scrolled your phone late into the night. You're thinking about him weren't you? You nust be thinking about him even when you're doing the most mundane of things, right?!

Yeah, it doesn't stop there. But that's besides the point.

He'd call you over, confess calmly like the chill guy he was, and you two would be happy together because you liked him back. That was the plan.

This.

This wasn't the plan.

He didn't expect to be hesitating, anxious. He didn't expect to be worried about your response. He didn't want to tell you his feelings, too afraid that you'd reject him despite knowing that you liked him.

Was this... fear?

"I..."

He gulps.

"Hm?"

"Ilikeyoualot."

There. He said it.

Finn shuts his eyes, hiding his face in his hands before peeking out behind the gaps of his fingers. What were you going to say? Were you going to reject him? Oh Finn's heart doesn't know if he can handle that...

"What was that?"

Eh? You didn't... catch his confession?

Then you chuckled, a hint of red dusting your cheeks.

"You're so cute Finny."

"F-Finny?!"

"Come here and give me a kiss!"

Finn didn't even have time to react before you threw yourself at him. He stumbles lightly, lips parting as you press your cheek to his lips and let out a giggle.

Shit, he's sweating. This is all too much for him. He swears he's used to your teasing but now...

"Get out of the library you two!"

"Haha!"

Man screw the librarian. He's a taken man now.

Right? That's why you giggled when the librarian chased you two out...

Right?

"So we're dating now?"

You smile at him and Finn swears he's been gazed at by an angel. His hearts racing, cheeks an impossible shade of red. Things can't possibly get worse-

"What do you think Finny?"

Zoo wee mama bury him alive at this point 🤑🤑🤑

Hm. Finn doesn't know what to do. He's... conflicted.

So you two have been dating for a while now, yeah? And everything's great! Fantastic even! You're such a wonderful person and Finn couldn't be happier that you chose to be with him.

There's just one problem.

You've begun showing interest in someone else.

Finn trusts you! Of course he does! You're the love of his life! His one and only! He's had many beautiful memories with you and he knows you'd never do such a heinous thing like betraying his trust.

But... you've been spending too much time with this new friend of yours and it's driving him insane.

Click. The door clicks open.

Ah, so you finally decided to come home, huh.

"Welcome back, how was your outing with your friend?"

Finn puts on a forced smile for you. Can't get you angry, what if you break up with him because you think he's too controlling? He wouldn't want that. Not at all.

"It was good. He's really cool, you should meet him sometime!"

Yeah, like hell he would.

Just the thought of you hanging out with another guy sickens him to the core. Scratch that, the thought of you hanging out with literally anyone other than him or your family sickens him. It literally makes him want to tear off his face. All that just so you would keep to yourself.

But he can't do that, can he? He's not that kind of person.

"I really enjoy his company, he's a really good friend."

On second thought... Maybe not.

His eye twitches and he has to hold himself back from saying anything rash. No... he wouldn't want to scare you. Not now. What if you end up hating him?

Finn can't handle that.

Your Finn can't handle that.

"Do you... really like him that much?"

That's... okay, right? You-

"Yeah, he's a good friend finny."

...Huh...

"Right... I understand."

Your boyfriend smiles at you, extending a hand to gently rub your head. Right. Just a friend.

He's just a friend.

Nothing more, nothing less.

He has nothing to be threatened by. Nothing at all. It's not like you'd ever leave him. You know you're all he has.

You're all that's good in his life.

You wouldn't hurt him like that. You won't.

"Hey... do you think we've been spending too much time with each other recently?"

What?

Finn pauses in his tracks, the pencil he was holding slipping from his hands. He heard you right, yeah? You said you two had been spending too much time with each other?

"Haha, what makes you say that?"

He must be overthinking it. You can't have meant that right?

"It's just... maybe we should have some time away from each other. I just want some me time."

Hah...

Ah...

Finn takes a step back, eyes widening just the slightest bit before he covers his mouth with his hand. No way, you're serious? Why? After all he's done?

"I-I didn't upset you, did I?"

"What? No no, I just want some me time, y'know?"

Yeah but...

Don't you love him?

You know how he gets when he's without you, right?

"B-but..."

Finn pauses when he sees your expression. Lips parted slightly, eyebrows furrowed just the tiniest bit.

You're annoyed.

"Ah..."

Nonono

No.

Are you breaking up with him? Is this your way of letting him down easy? Shit, he knew you never really liked it, probably just some passing infatuation because you were interested in how someone like him could be second place. Maybe it was all a ploy to get study information? All those times before you two got together, complimenting him, blushing and telling him he's exactly your type were all lies, right?

Fuck...

Your boyfriend glances up, helplessness filling his body. No... no... he doesn't want to believe it but knowing you...

Is it because you're interested in another guy?

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"What? No, that's not what I'm trying to-"

"I knew it! You didn't actually love me, did you?! You just wanted to play with me, right?! Now you're moving onto the next guy just like that!"

"What are you talking about Finny? It's not like that, I really just want to-"

You freeze.

What... what's with that look in his eyes? And why's he coming closer? Usually you'd welcome him with open arms but there's something off about him right now...

You're scared.

"Finn... You're creeping me out..."

Before you can say anything else though, he latches onto your arms, grip surprisingly strong for someone who rarely exercises. Dread floods your body and you desperately try to break free.

It's no use, of course. He's too strong.

"Finn? Let go please! I swear 'm not breaking up with you!"

"Liar! If you're not breaking up with me you wouldn't be asking for a break!"

He gets uncomfortably close, eyes wide and manic. You can hear his heart pounding, or is that yours? You don't know, everything is so loud you can't exactly focus...

"No... You can't leave me. You're all that's good in my life."

"Finn let-"

"I can't lose you."

And just for a split second, you think you catch a glimpse of the old Finn, the Finn you knew before... before all this absurdity consumed him.

That's right, you weren't exactly trying to break up with him. You just wanted some time to yourself because of how clingy he's been recently. Ever since you got that new friend, Finn's been hovering around you like some sort of demon and it's gotten really exhausting. You thought that maybe a short break would get him back to his usual shy and cute self.

You could never have expected this to happen. Never.. would have expected him to go this far.

"I'm sorry... I'm really sorry... But if I don't do this, you'll leave me. I simply cannot have that happening. You mean too much to me."

Ah...

Just like that, you were out like a light.

It's warm, at least. His arms....

"I love you, I love you so much..."

Don't ever leave me, please.

[hearts4mica]

I can’t fix you

Yandere Batfam! x Neglected Reader

Masterlist

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“How can a person lose their self control?”

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Request!: Hello friend! May I request neglected reader x batman except they break and become the next Joker?

Let's say that Jason killed the original, but given the neglect and outright hatred put onto reader (you can expand on this however you wish!), they run away from the manor without anyone noticing it.

They stumble upon an old warehouse where he stored the Joker toxin, except this version of it was meant to be used on Halloween (as another statement from Joker) and was so incredibly strong that, combined with all of that anger and grief in their heart, reader goes insane and begins to laugh... a lot. Since it was still a very bad hazard to leave out, Batman tasks Nightwing (and a reluctant Hood) to enter the warehouse a few days later, only to find that there are signs that point to Joker being back and having collected a lot of henchmen and a lot of toxin, planning something. So when these two go to confront who they think is Joker, they see reader instead, with the same bloody, scarred smile and hollow eyes.Queue a battle (that reader narrowly loses, taunting both of them with hurtful words that they can't even retort to), and now batfam is trying their hardest to bring the old reader back, except they don't even know what they were like, truly. The only one that did was Alfred, but not enough to know if their rehabilitation is working.

Meanwhile, Batman interrogates reader and the conversation heads south where they go "You never thought of me, Bat. I was invisible, hated and never once given an ounce of attention. I never knew if you loved me. You loved your villains far more... so will you, now? Now that I am like him? Am I finally worthy of your attention?" they laugh, even harder at the horror in his eyes, the grief in his voice while he denies it, and all that the Asylum can hear are spine-chilling giggles and the words of a broken man who's too late to save his one and only normal kid.

Also can I be called 🍌 anon? :D

(Hello Anon! I have no idea why it wouldn’t let me answer your request so i just copied and pasted it here! Here’s your story!)

———————————————————————————

Ever since you said no the chance if becoming a hero like them you felt ignored? Like they were disappointed in you.

You were just normal in their eyes. Your family didn’t care about you.. they never did so as soon as you turned 18 you ran away and no one noticed. You’re sure they didn’t even remember or cared about your existence.

You stole some money from Bruce to rent yourself a department in a not so bad place in Gotham but ended up getting scammed so all your money went to waste and now you were homeless.

While laying down on a bench you debated about going back to the Wayne Manor and live a sad life there again but you couldn’t! Your ego wouldn’t let you.

So without any hope left you got up and started walking to an abandoned warehouse. Maybe there’s stuff you can take from there and sell? It’s not stealing if it’s abandoned. So you decided to go in.

While exploring the place you found a so called “Joker Toxin” it was probably a fake one but his fans would pay anything for this. You grabbed the small glass but it was slippery because it was stored in a freezer and it feel to the floor breaking the glass and the liquid fell to the floor.

“Aw shit.” Well it was fake after all so you didn’t need to worry right?-

The moment you inhaled that toxin you started grinning your eyes widened open and your eyes they became red as if you were intoxicated. You feel onto the floor in pain it hurts so bad but you can’t help but- feel happy?

Ha, ha ha HA HA HA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHA!!!

You can’t stop no matter how much you cover your mouth trying to quiet down not wanting to attract unwanted attention it seems impossible to you. It feels like someone’s tickling you. You can’t stop.

You pass out a few hours later from exhaustion

When you wake up it feels like something has changed with you. You want revenge you need it.

Now you had to set a trap to kill two birds with a stone.

Comissioner Gordon had notified Batfam about some weird noises coming from an abandoned warehouse that citizens had told him about so he sent Nightwing and Red hood.

He told them to be careful since the Joker might be back because of some signs and to notify him immediately if it was the case.

He knew Dick and Jason weren’t children anymore but be still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong and it felt wrong to send his children to investigate this. He was trying to become a better fatjer for all his children afterall.

Now Nightwing and Redhood were outside the warehouse. You we’re watching them through a small window getting ready for your grand entrance.

The went in and everything seemed fine. Until you appeared instead of the Joker.

“Hello there!” You say as you step out from the shadows.

They both freeze for a second.

“What? The bat ate your tongue?!”

“Name?-“ Dick says surprised that his- sibling? Was here. Weren’t you 8 years old? You were when he- last saw you?…

“Well yeah but no! I’m now the Joker! I’m his greatest succesor!” Your smile was creepy. It went from ear to ear and it was painted with red lipstick. You had dyed your hair green (and failed awkwardly-) so now it was just black and looked green fungy.

“What the heck is wrong with you?! You know how much harm you’ve been causing? Are you stupid?!” Red hood says.

“Let’s both calm dowwn! [name] come back home! We miss you-“

“Oh stop being a fucking hypocrite Dick! No one even noticed i was gone until now! No way in heck i’m going back to that place!” You hold up a gun.

“Oh so that’s how we’re playing?” Redhood takes out his gun.

“Let’s dance.” You smirk as you shoot your gun towards them.

You end up loosing and they drag you back to the manor. You insulted them in every language you knew.

Now back in the manor you got tied up and Batman was infront of you.

“What a nice family reunion isn’t that right Bats?” You tell him taunting him.

“[name] don’t call me that. I’m you father-“

“HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA since when Batsy?! When did you ever parent me? When was the last time we had a real conversation?! And don’t call me [name]! I’m the joker now!”

“I-“ for the first time to you Bruce Wayne your ‘father’ had looked at you. Stared at you regretfully.

“When was the last time you thought of me? Was i not worthy of your attention like them?! Is it because i didn’t want to become a hero like you? Are you jeaulous cause i picked a normal life?!”

“I was just busy [name]” his face was full of regret. But it was too late.

“But you were never busy for your villians right?! Now that i became a villian it’s the first time in years that you’ve payed attention to me!” Your smile started fading you’ve couldn’t look weak infront of him! Never again.

“We can change that! How about you quit this nonsense you’ve got going on? We can start this over again.” His child. You were his child. He lost you once. He’ll make up for this wether you want to or not.

Damian watching in the background “This psycho needs therapy.” He mutters to himself and leaves the Batcave.

Now you were forever trapped in this place. Your family was not stopping until you became what you once were.

Honestly they didn’t even know you. They just molded you into what they ideally thought you were.

Your makeup was wiped off. Your clothes changed. Your hair well they tried to save it but since the dye ruined it it had been chopped off horribly.

Daily your ‘doctor’ (Alfred) prescribed you sedatives to keep you in line. If you misbehaved you got a dosis. In the morning a dosis, at night another one.

They told you it was for your own good. They were helping you. You couldn’t harm yourself anymore!

Now everyday felt like on autopilot. You were a zombie in your own body. Your mind was foggy.

And they’ll keep doing this until you become the perfect Wayne they imagined you once were.

“Ha! Joker? What a stupid idea [name]! You never became the Joker! Pftt! Babybird we would never neglect you! You were always a part of us!”

Those small lies. Daily. While being weak. You started believing them.

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Thanks for reading!

My masterlist!

Requests are open!

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[milla-frenchy]

Rotten luck

4k1 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: forced to work for Escobar's men as a driver until the day you escape, a DEA agent finds you in the countryside, at the home of friends you've been hiding. You yearn to start over and get a visa, but things aren't so easy, especially when feelings complicate the situation

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Angst, slow burn, La Quica kills a cop, oral (f), piv, masturbation (m), cumplay, Javi is a broken man emotionally, closed towards other people, cold/soft Javi

a/n: this is written for @almostfoxglove 's Let's get angsty challenge- thank you for the event Freya 🙏🧡 your mood board was the perfect inspo and absolutely gorgeous, so I kept it 😌 | Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 | dividers @/saradika-graphics 🙏

Same Javi as in And all that could have been. This story happens after the events of that fic but it can be read alone

You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have done what they told you to do, but what other choice did you have, in the end? Say no? Fucking joke.

You couldn’t even complain about your bad luck in knowing someone who was involved in Escobar’s business, because the guy was everywhere. Everyone probably knew someone who was involved with him. 

There were surely a lot of people like you, used because their record was clean, because they were doing legal work, because they seemed innocent. And innocent they were, until one of Pablo’s henchmen got their hands on them and blackmailed them. Just like they did with you.

Until a cop approached the car you were about to drive, and La Quica blew the cop’s brains out, leaving you covered in blood and in shock, unable to drive. He yelled at you to start the car but it just increased your shaking. He got out and opened your door, grabbed your elbow and left you on the sidewalk, your white top now covered in red.

So you did the only thing you could think of, you packed a bag of clothes and headed out into the countryside to some of your friend's farm. You were so scared for your life that it was the only option you could think of. You left your apartment, your job, your other friends, everything. 

It was four days ago. 

The place was surrounded by fields and valleys, no other houses in sight. So when a car pulled onto the road, your blood ran cold. You didn’t know where to go, they would see you if you ran to the fields. The sheepfold was the only place you could hide so you hurried there, hiding behind bales of straw.

When the door to the barn opened, you covered your mouth with your hand to prevent your cry from crossing the barrier of your lips. You heard a lamb bleat, then a male voice.

“What are you doing here all alone?” 

You didn’t know if he was talking to you or the lamb, didn’t recognize the voice, but that didn’t change anything. You didn’t know all of Escobar’s men anyway.

“I know you’re here. I saw you running towards this place.”

The male voice was calm, low. And you were terrified. All he had to do was to step a little further into the shadows of the barn, pass the straw, and he’d find you.

“My name is Javier Peña. DEA. I’m not one of Escobar’s men.” He paused before adding “I guess they’d say the same,” he chuckled, but his tone was cold. 

“But you and I both know that those men wouldn’t have the patience to wait for you to come out of the hay, or waste their time petting a lamb. They'd just pull out their guns and shoot in your direction.”

You were fucked. Either he was one of Escobar’s men and that game of hide-and-seek would end soon, or he really was DEA… and who knew what would happen.

You slowly came out of the darkness and found yourself face to face with him. A dark-haired man with a moustache and an indefinable stare.

He put the lamb on the ground and took out his badge. DEA.

“See?” he said. “You’re not safe, here.”

“What do you mean?” you stammered.

“We found you,” he added with a shrug. “They’ll find you too when they start looking for you.”

He explained that they followed a lead that gave them two locations. His partner had gone to check the second one.

He took you to a safe house after calling the DEA. You were lost, wondering how long you would stay there. How long before you could resume a normal life, if you ever could. You asked him if they could get you a visa. There was nothing left for you there anyway, and you didn’t want to put your few friends in danger. If it wasn’t too late for that.

“It doesn’t work like that,” he told you abruptly as you were sitting at the kitchen table in the safe house, facing him and his partner who had joined you. Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. You didn't know if you could trust them, but for now you had no other choice anyway. They wanted information, wanted you to give them something useful. You told them everything you knew.

A few days passed where you couldn't go out for your safety, until one day Javier came over, anxious, checking the windows. He told you to pack your things, that you had to move quickly. Steve was waiting for you in the car.

“What’s going on?” you asked once seated in the back seat.

“We intercepted a conversation between La Quica and some other Escobar’s men,” Steve told you as he started to drive. “The safe house is compromised.”

“Where are you taking me?” you questioned, your gaze going from one man to the other.

They looked at each other, and Javier shook his head.

“We have no choice, Javi. And it won’t happen again, we’re prepared this time, it’s different.”

Javi scoffed at Steve's words but didn’t reply when you asked what they were talking about. He grabbed a cigarette nervously, rolling the flint of his lighter several times before managing to light it.

“You’re gonna stay at my place,” he told you. “For a while. But we have to make sure no one follows us, that no one sees you go in.” He threw you a large sweatshirt and a cap.

“Put these on, that will do it.” His tone was sharper than ever.

“Why don't I go to Steve's, since you can't stand me?” you asked him aggressively. He'd always been so cold with you, and the idea of ​​living in the same apartment as him for the next few days or weeks didn't appeal to you.

“Steve’s got a wife and a kid. We can't put them in danger.”

So you settled there. 

He was rarely present, coming back home late and leaving early. He slept on the couch of his one bed apartment and sometimes he didn't even come home at night. When he was there, you felt like you were looking at a cat, bored by the company he was being forced to deal with.

One evening while you were having dinner together, which happened rarely, you couldn't contain your worry, even if he clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“Do you know when I’ll get a visa? I’m scared here... They’ll kill me if they find me.”

“I don’t. But they don’t know you’re here, we made sure of it,” he answered coldly once again, your need for comfort and warmth remaining unfulfilled. You went to bed, trying to calm your anxiety and forget how lonely you were, but you ended up crying face against the pillow. You didn't want him to hear you. Didn’t need to annoy him even more.

You started to transfer your thoughts on paper. Hoping that writing them down would help you to process them, in a way. You had no one to talk about your feelings, so you expressed them to yourself. It was better than nothing.

One night you heard him come home and turn on the TV. You fell back asleep, and when you woke up a couple hours later, the TV was still on. You got up and saw him sitting on the couch, smoking a cigarette. He seemed lost in his thoughts. Sad. 

He looked up when he heard you.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked after clearing his throat.

“No, no. I was thirsty.” You hesitated then added “Can I sit down?”

“Sure.”

You stared at the TV, your glass of water in your hand, then asked if he knew how long you would be staying at his place. 

“I don’t know.”

You knew he hadn’t cared about you, since the moment you’d met, but seeing day after day that it wasn't changing was weighing on you.

“Aren’t you ever afraid of coming home one day and finding your door broken, and me dead in your apartment?”

“No. I doubt they think we’re stupid enough to hide you at a DEA agent's place.”

Oddly enough that made you both laugh, and you watched the TV with him for a few minutes before going back to bed.

After that night, you started to talk a little more. He was less cold and came back home earlier. Step by step, you began looking at him differently, maybe because he was the only person around. Or because you felt alone. Or maybe because you didn't really see him as an asshole anymore. You put his attitude into perspective by telling yourself that it might have pissed you off too, if you were forced to live with a stranger because of your work.

You started to look at him, to really look at him, days after days. And one night, after slipping your hand into your panties, longing for a physical touch that you missed terribly, it was Javier you were thinking about. Imagining his hands on you, wondering how he would touch you.

The next morning, you didn't dare to meet his eyes, and he noticed immediately, like a hunting dog smelling the scent of prey.

"What's going on?" he asked. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks and he stared at you as if he knew. You cleared the table before returning to your room.

He often came home exhausted, and one morning, he seemed as tired as the night before. You wondered if he was sleeping properly and you told him that he could have his bedroom back, that you could sleep on the couch. He refused but when you saw his under eye bags you couldn't help yourself and placed your hand on his to give him a little warmth, a little empathy, a bit of comfort. He looked at your hand for a few moments and you were sure he was going to pull it away, but his gaze rose to yours, and you could read clearly what was in them.

His lips crashed against yours, and he led you to the bedroom where he removed your clothes and asked you to lie down on the bed, before throwing off his own. You looked over his body, your legs slightly apart, arousal already flowing from your folds. He was magnificent, to the point that you thought his body must have been sculpted by an artist. Your throat was dry as your gaze moved slowly from his lips to his chest, his biceps, his happy trail. When your eyes landed on his cock, a low "fuck" escaped your lips. It was gorgeous too, thick, hard, and you were wondering how it would feel when he pushed inside you. Your gaze moved back up to his face to find some doubt in his eyes, as if he wasn't so sure it was a good idea anymore.

Doubt turned into desire and he knelt on the bed, squeezed your thighs between his hands and licked your pussy until you came in a shamefully short time, back arched, toes curled, fingers lost in his hair. Your trembling hadn't stopped yet when he settled between your thighs, sinking in slowly, his gaze lowered towards you. It wasn't affectionate. Just two bodies needing to release some pressure. You came a second time under his fingers while he was thrusting in you, and it was more intimacy than you'd had in weeks.

The next night you heard him come home, hoping he'd join you, but in vain. You touched yourself, thinking of the night before.

The night after that, you called him as he settled down on the couch. A few seconds later, his broad frame was in the crack of the bedroom door.

And then you started having sex every day. Morning, evening, or night. He began to sleep with you after you told him it was ridiculous to stay on the couch. You found yourself curled up against him in the night. He was way softer with you now, showing a side that you could never imagine. You loved when he kissed your cheek or forehead, rubbed his nose against yours. You started calling him Javi, and that was probably even more intimate than anything else.

You wondered a few times if he was seeing someone else, until you felt the blade of jealousy dive slowly, painfully in your heart. You didn't expect it. It couldn't lead you to anything good, so you pushed it away.

Sometimes he could see your hands shaking. “I’ll protect you from them,” he used to say, wrapping you in his arms or holding your hands in his. He was comforting, using a confident voice that made you believe it.

One night, you saw that something was bothering him, but he didn’t bring it up until you pushed,

“Javi, please. What’s going on?”

He sighed then said “Another safe house is available. But... I'd like you to stay here. I want to be sure you're ok and I don't trust anyone else to protect you.”

You nodded. Of course you’d stay here, with him. He was your everyday life, your protector. 

He called you ‘baby’ now and your heart was melting.

Weeks passed. Not everything was perfect. He often came home stressed, losing himself in cigarettes or alcohol. Or between your thighs. 

You were ok with that. But even when he was thrusting into you, his gaze was sometimes vacant. You would have liked to tear away the worry that flowed through his veins, and you would often take his face in your hands to make him focus on you and on the present moment. You succeeded, more and more often, but irremediably his stare would wander off again, at one point or another.

You didn't care that sometimes as soon as he got home he would kiss you and quickly press you against the wall, pushing his cock inside you. You needed it as much as he did, whatever was between the two of you. It made you feel alive.

Nevertheless when you fucked, it seemed like it meant something.

You often had late night talks, and sometimes he would tell you about his day. The horrors he had to face, the deaths he had to witness. His impression of an endless and unequal war.

Something had been lingering on your mind for several weeks now, and you couldn't resist talking about it lying in bed, while he was having an after sex cigarette.

“The day you brought me here… Steve said it wouldn’t happen again,” you started to say. He shook his head as if to dismiss the subject.

“Please, Javi,” you insisted. “Tell me.”

He brushed his moustache with his thumb, considering his reply. 

“I can hear it, whatever this is,” you added in a soft voice.

He sighed, then said “ok, ok. There was a woman… I put her in a safe house. I thought she would be ok there. Escobar’s men found her….” He lowered his head, unable to say more, but he didn’t have to. His body was tense and his eyes filled with sadness.

“I’m sorry, Javi,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m afraid sometimes…” he added, his voice shaky. “Afraid I won’t be able to protect you either, afraid to fail again.”

“Hey.” You cupped his cheeks with your hands. “I’m safe here, I know I am.” You searched for his eyes, showing unwavering determination in yours. “They won’t find me, you hear me?”

Caressing his cheeks with your thumbs, you added “you will keep me safe. I know it.” 

His eyes were still showing concern, so you persisted. “Javi! Listen to me. I know I’m safe. Nothing will happen to me, baby.”

His brows furrowed as he looked at you, seeing determination and certainty in your stare. He nodded, hugged you, and kissed your forehead.

Sex became different. Intimate. He was passionate and generous. 

You knew you were falling in love with him, a little more each day, even if a part of him remained a mystery, an insurmountable block, even in these moments. You didn't tell him about your feelings, afraid of pushing him away. Even though he wasn't as distant as before, it was still difficult to fully know him.

His apartment often echoed with your moans and sweaty bodies.

His hands were soft on you, and you started to think that maybe you became dear to him. During the day you thought of him, craved him, eager to feel his body every time he got back home. 

You realized that he did, too, one evening, when he hurried to you as soon as he threw his keys on the cabinet.

“I need to… need to taste you. To eat you.”

He looked wrecked, his hair disheveled, his shirt collar unbuttoned, messy. 

“I can't think of anything else. Every day, every hour, I think about you and your cunt. About your scent lingering on my moustache after I made you come on my tongue in the morning, before leaving. And I can't… couldn’t focus at work, I need to be between your legs all the time. I'm fucking obsessed with your cunt. Wanna drink it all day long. Please… please, baby. Can I eat you out?”

You nodded, stunned by his statement. Your pussy wasn't questioning it, drooling as soon as you heard his key in the lock.

He took off his jacket and shirt then his pants, letting them fall to the floor, as he walked over to the couch where you were sitting. You weren't sure if he wanted to go to the bedroom and didn't move, but he knelt as soon as he was within reach, grabbed the elastic of your pants and pulled them off. He paused for a moment as he looked at your panties, and the gaze he gave you electrified your body. Animalistic, feline. A wild beast ready to devour you. 

His fingers grasped the waistband of your panties but didn't remove them. Holding onto them, he leaned down and when his tongue lapped at the fabric, you couldn't hold back a deep moan. 

His fingers tightened on your panties when he heard you, still lapping, to the point where your folds were outlined by the fabric, soaked by his saliva and your need.

He forced himself to slow down, just long enough to push your panties to the side, grunting, before finally licking your folds with nothing between his tongue and your skin.

“Javi,” you whined, gripping his hair, rolling your hips towards him.

You were almost on the verge of tears, overwhelmed by your emotions. His greed and eagerness were radiating from his body as he was pushing his tongue into you. Licking, lapping, sucking, keeping your folds open with his thumbs, his nose rubbing deliciously against your clit.

“Javi…” you begged.

“Tell me,” he murmured against your folds, without stopping.

“Fingers, please…”

He lapped at your cunt again, slowly, so slowly you thought you might faint.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you with my fingers?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

He placed them against your pussy, without moving at first, just letting you feel the warmth of his digits, and kissed your clit. He didn’t lick, didn’t suck. Just peppered kissed over it, and his moustache lightly tickled your skin. Each light kiss was giving you goosebumps. You heard him chuckle.

“So needy, baby… just like me.”

Then he slid his fingers down to your entrance, his middle finger already slick with your arousal slipped between your folds and he pushed in a knuckle, making you gasp. His lips curved around your clit, sucking lightly, barely more than a touch. He pushed his finger in and started pumping.

“Oh god,” you whined. Your clit was throbbing under his tongue as he was pushing in your pussy faster and deeper. A second finger joined the first, rubbing perfectly where you needed it.

You vaguely felt his other hand leave your hip and when you opened your eyes, you saw him spread the precum on his shaft. He gripped it with his firm hand and began slowly jerking himself, his eyes closed as he sucked on your clit and kept fucking you with his fingers.

“I’ll never get enough of your cunt,” he murmured, before playing with your clit with the tip of his tongue.

You looked down at him. This gorgeous, protective, caring man. So eager to please you, to make you come. You couldn't believe the worst day of your life had led you to cross paths with him. 

Your mind went blank. You could only vaguely hear the indecent sounds of his fingers in your soaked pussy, and his wrist fucking his shaft. His grunts faded into moans, until he came, cum spraying against the floor and down his fist. 

Thinking that he had been unable to stop himself from coming was the last straw and you came, arching your back against the couch, fingers hooked in his hair. Panting, trembling against his mouth, clenching on his fingers.

“Javi, I need your cum,” you whined without realizing it. And his cum-covered fingers replaced the ones coated in your juices. He was fucking you with his digits dripping cum.

“Fuck, baby,” he said. Grabbing your hand with his, squeezing it, until he slowed his thrusting between your thighs, feeling that you were on the verge of overstimulation. You cupped his face in your hands, pulled him to you and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips and his moustache.

He lay on top of you, catching his breath against your breasts.

You wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, as much as it echoed in your own body. You wondered if he understood the meaning of that rhythm, so fast and so strong.

You wondered if his was beating as strongly, and for the same reasons.

His hand found your breast, cupping it carefully, as if it was something precious.

You thought about the time when fate had brought you together, and smiled as you stroked his hair.

Two days later, when he came back home, you felt that something was wrong. 

“I got your visa,” he said harshly. His eyes were off, so was his whole body. He was distant, and fear grabbed your weak heart in its hands. Squeezing it hard.

“What?” you asked in a trembling voice.

He avoided your  gaze, and added “you wanted a visa, right? And you can't stay here, it's not safe. We knew that.”

“What?” You repeated. “Wait a minute, can we talk about it?”

He shook his head, without even looking at you.

“What are you doing, Javi?” you insisted, your heart begging for help, for answers. 

“You can leave Colombia, be safe. Go on with your life.”

“Please, Javi, don't do it. Not like that. I'm not… I'm not her. What happened was awful but please let us talk about it.”

“Steve is waiting for you downstairs. He'll take you to the airport,” he said stubbornly.

“Javi…”

Tears obscured your vision and you could only see a blurry shape of him, standing a few feet away from you. Out of reach. Your Javi wasn't there anymore, he had shut down all his emotions.

Your heart was ripped in two, the pain so intense that you wondered if that Javi had ever existed. And right now, there was nothing left for him to give you.

You packed your things, unable to believe what was happening, hoping it was a nightmare. You looked at him from time to time. Brows furrowed, arms crossed over his chest.

“Have you ever felt anything for me? Have these last weeks meant anything to you?” you asked. He didn't reply, and barely glanced at you. You never thought his confession two days ago would lead to this. 

Your mind knew what was making him act like this, but you couldn't accept that he was cutting it all off.

You slammed the door when you left, a “fuck you” escaping your lips.

He thought about the whisky he was going to drink to forget. Forget how he could have done it to you in such a cruel way. He liked to tell himself he was good at compartmentalizing. But tonight, lonely in his apartment, he couldn't believe it anymore.

A few days later he found the letters you had written to yourself. He sat down on his bed and read them all. 

He was reading about your growing feelings, the complete trust you'd had towards him over the past few weeks. He wondered if you'd left them there on purpose, or if you had forgotten them, but he quickly shook the thoughts from his mind. It didn't change anything. He wanted you safe, now you would be. No matter the price you had to pay. Or he had to pay.

He burnt the letters and poured himself some whiskey.

If you wanna know more about what happened to the woman Javi speaks of: And all that could have been

javi p masterlist

More Javi angst: The constant

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[vbecker10]

Hi Neighbor (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 (in progress)

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You take Bucky grocery shopping for the first time and you're surprised when he suddenly opens up to you. What might be even more surprising is his reaction when elderly shopper mistakingly assumes you're a married couple.

A/N: This is going to be a multi-part series with a bit of a slow burn between you and your hot new neighbor. I'm not sure how many parts yet but I already have the ending all figured out. I was going to work on something else first but one of my favorite people specifically requested this be next lol. I hope you all like it! 💚

You push the shopping cart through the automatic doors and are closely followed by Bucky. "Produce first I think," you suggest when you see him looking around the large store a bit lost. He nods in response and stays close to you until he sees something that makes him smile.

He wanders over to the large display of fruit and picks up a plum with his vibranium fingers, squeezing it lightly before putting it back down and selecting another one. You watch him for a moment then decide to be helpful and pull a plastic bag from the stand. With a quiet but frustrated groan, you overcome your struggle to open the bag and thankfully he's too focused on the fruit to notice.

"Thanks," smiles at you when you finally hold the bag out so he can add the plums he's picked so far.

"You don't need to buy all them," you giggle when he adds a sixth one.

"I know," he agrees and puts back the one he's currently holding. "I just really like them."

"Yeah, I can see that," you say with a touch of sarcasm. "So, you can feel if they're ripe with your metal hand?" you can't help but ask even though you probably shouldn't.

He holds up his vibranium hand, looking at his palm then wiggling his fingers a little as he rotates his wrist. "Yeah, this is a lot better then the old one I had," he tells you.

"You're real arm?" you ask confused, pushing the shopping cart over to the bananas so you can grab a few.

He shakes his head, "No, I meant the one Hydra made for the uh..." he clears his throat then forces out the next words with his gaze focused on the back his hand metal as it hangs by his side, "The Winter Soldier."

"Oh," you respond, having no idea what else to say.

"Yeah, it was titanium," he explains and you lean against the cart, listening to him quietly. He tries to act like he's searching for the right apple, picking one up then placing it back down gently. You find yourself being thankful the store is nearly empty, shopping late at night has its advantages.

Bucky avoids looking at you while he begins to talk again, "The way they attached it... I could feel it, if it was grabbed or injured because it was connected to my nerves, bone and muscles but I didn't have, what did they call it?" He rubs his metal fingers together while he thinks. "Tactile sensation," he looks up from his hand but still doesn't look directly at you, "So I couldn't really feel anything."

"Other than pain if you got hurt?" you ask and he nods silently.

You wait quietly, watching him think. "It never really felt like that arm was a part of me, it was just some weapon they built for the Winter Soldier," he tries to explain. "I was almost relieved when it got ripped off, as messed up as that sounds."

"It got ripped off!?" you ask, barely able to imagine how horrific that must have felt.

"Yeah, that's a long story but the short version is it absolutely sucked," he says with a light chuckle. "It's not the first time I've lost my left arm though and like I said, it never really felt like it was mine."

You look at him a bit stunned and unable to figure out how to respond.

"This one is great though," he gives you a smile, relaxing more as he talks about his new arm. "The Wakandans made it for me out of vibranium. I forget how many sensors it has but I can feel everything now, even temperature. It's lighter too, even though it's a lot stronger."

"That's really cool," you smile back at him.

"And, it's dishwasher safe," he adds.

You laugh, "Shut up, it is not!"

He laughs and nods, "I swear it is! I used to use the one back at the Tower all the time."

"That's like a million dollar limb and you put it in the dishwasher?" you cover your mouth as you laugh harder.

"On a low setting," he smiles.

"You are so weird," you tell him.

"Yeah, I know," he clears his throat again and you notice he does that when he seems nervous or unsure of himself. "Anyways, I didn't mean to just throw all that out there... trauma dumping by the fruit wasn't really my plan for tonight."

"It's totally fine," you fight the urge to hug him and you're not sure why you resist it. He clearly could use a hug, you think but still you don't move. "I told you, I'm hear to listen and I meant it."

He walks over to stand next to the cart, for a moment it looks like he's going to reach out to take your hand but instead he grips the handle tightly. "Need anymore fruit?" he asks, changing the subject.

"Yep, oh how about those?" you point a few displays over.

"Grapes?" he chuckles when you seem overly excited and follows you.

You roll your eyes and pick up a small bunch to put in a bag for him, "Not just grapes, cotton candy grapes. They taste just like cotton candy I swear."

"Definitely never heard of those," he shakes his head, "But that sounds super weird and unnecessary."

"Of course you've never ver heard of them, it's like you lived in a cave," you sigh then freeze and put your hand over your mouth. I'm an idiot! Holy crap, why did I say that?! you yell at yourself.

"Technically, it was a secret underground military base in Siberia," he says with a straight face.

"Oh my god..." you lower your hand slowly. "I am so sorry! Bucky, I didn't mean that."

"It's fine," he insists, taking the forgotten bag of grapes from you and putting it with the other fruit in the cart.

"No, it's not. That was really messed up, I'm sorry," you tell him.

"It's okay," he reassures you. This time he does reach out to you, his right hand gently resting on your back then moving up and down slowly.

"Are you sure?" you ask, biting you lip and looking up at him.

"I'm sure," he smiles. "Don't even worry about it."

"Okay... but I'm buying you as many plums as you want cause I feel really bad now," you relax a bit and he removes his hand from your back.

He laughs a little, "I guess Sam's right, the whole guilt trip thing works on everyone."

"What do you mean?" you ask him.

"Oh, you know... you feel really bad about saying or doing something and then I get a little apology gift. It's how I got Tony to pay for my apartment," he informs you with a smirk.

"Wait seriously?" you ask following him in shock.

"Yep," he nods proudly. "Pretty much any time Tony says something stupid about my past or the Winter Soldier, which is pretty often, I get something fun like my bike."

"Wow," you laugh. "Really working the system huh?"

"It got me some plums didn't it?" he smiles at you and continues towards the vegetables.

You walk down the cereal aisle, looking for your favorite while Bucky pushes the cart behind you. With a groan, you step up to the shelf, of course it's on the top freaking shelf. Reaching for the box, Bucky chuckles behind you.

"Need help?" he asks.

"I've got it," you tell him and stretch as much as you can, lifting onto your tip toes and holding the shelf with your other hand.

"I can see that," you can hear the smirk in his voice while you struggle. After another moment of you pretending you'll suddenly get taller you feel his chest pressed lightly against your back. "This is getting sad," he laughs as he grabs the box easily.

"I had it," you tell him with a huff when he steps away to add it to the cart for you.

"You could just say 'thank you'," he smiles when you fold your arms across your chest.

"Aww, such a gentleman," an elderly woman says from half way down the aisle.

You both look towards her. "Thanks ma'am," Bucky responds politely with a smile.

"I wish I had a sweet, young husband like you," she laughs and you giggle knowing Bucky is older than her by at least twenty years. She continues, "You're such a cute couple."

You blush furiously at that and Bucky laughs quietly, his hand settling on top of yours on the handle of the cart. "You hear that sweetheart? She thinks we're cute," he says to you and you can barely believe how easily he's going along with this.

"Can borrow your husband, dear?" she asks you and points to something well out of her reach on the top shelf. "I can't seem to reach anything in this store lately."

"Oh, of course," you smile and push him gently towards her. "Go ahead handsome."

Without complaining, he walks towards where she is pointing. You notice he keeps his metal hand tucked away in his pocket and only uses his right hand to reach for the box.

"Thank you young man," she says excitedly and grabs onto his forearm tightly. It's clear she doesn't recognize him but it's also obvious she isn't going to let him go anytime soon. "I need a few more things, you don't mind do you?" she asks and he looks over his shoulder at you for help.

"You can keep him as long as you'd like," you laugh and wave at him when she pushes the cart further away from you.

(A few days later)

"Hey," you wave at Bucky when he opens his front door and you walk up the sidewalk from your car.

"Hi sweetheart," he responds, locking his door.

You sigh and look down, trying to hide your blush by pretending to be annoyed. "Don't you think that joke has run its course?" you ask him, walking up the few steps while he waits on the stoop.

"Nope," he smiles, lifting his backpack onto his shoulder.

"Look, babe..." you decide to throw in an awkward pet name to see how he likes it.

"Babe?" he practically cringes and you feel like you made a good choice.

"... it's not my fault the first woman who's hit on you in a century was half your age," you say sarcastically.

"Okay, there are so many things wrong with what you just said." He laughs and runs his metal fingers through his long hair then his smile fades, "Wait... how old do you think I am?"

You laugh and shrug despite knowing exactly how old he is, "Not quite ancient but pretty close I think, right?"

"Wow, thanks," he laughs, shaking his head. His phone beeps and he checks the message with a sigh, "Sorry to cut this short but I've got to go, work thing."

You jokingly ask him, "Going on a secret mission tonight?"

He smirks, "You know I couldn't tell you if I was."

You continue to smile but suddenly feel worried for him as he walks towards his bike. "Bucky," you call and he turns back to look at you. "Be safe."

"You don't need to worry about me sweetheart," he says with a wide grin as he starts the bike.

"I'm not," you mumble to yourself when he waves over his shoulder at you.

Covering your mouth, you hide a yawn then lean forward to stretch before laying back down on the couch. You pick up your phone, 1:32 am. Letting out a little groan, you place it back on the coffee table and try to focus on the end of the movie.

There's only fifteen minutes left, you think, then I'm going right to bed. Unless he's still not home yet. No, no, I'm not staying up just because he's still out at his 'work thing', whatever that means. This is stupid, I've been trying to watch this movie for weeks, it has nothing to do with Bucky, you argue with yourself about why you can't seem to go to sleep despite being absolutely exhausted.

You sigh deeply, holding the small pillow tightly against your chest as you yawn again when you finally hear Bucky's front door opening. Grabbing your phone, you can't help but open the camera app and check the video from moments ago. A wave of relief washes over you when you see him unlocking his door then pausing as he smiles and gives your camera a little wave.

You giggle and turn off the movie, you'll need to rewatch the last half hour tomorrow but right now it's time to go to sleep.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did ❤️❤️ Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[basedhighsenberg]

Tonight at work I had an engaged couple in their 40s come in who have been a regular of mine for a while now.

Every time they come in they, specifically he, asks for me. The guy is a textbook himbo construction worker but he's also one of the nicest most genuine people I've met since working there. Imagine a golden retriever that has been trained to operate a cement mixer.

They come up the counter and he is visibly anxious and turning red. He puts a small box on the counter and starts to say "So this is my mom's ring-" except can't quite finish the sentence and starts ugly sobbing in the store, in front of like a dozen other guests. He continues to take it out of the box while sobbing.

His fiance and I do our best to calm him down. I bring them over to a sitting area and grab a box of tissues for him. Finally he calms down, and he's able to actually talk his ideas through- which are actually very sweet. He goes on to explain that his mother passed recently and they had discussed using some of the diamonds in her old ring for for his future wife's engagement set.

He already had an idea- he wanted to combine two white gold contour bands into a ring-wrap to go with the ring she already had, and wanted to sub out several of the diamonds in the already existing WG bands for ones in his mom's ring. After inspecting the ring and consulting with my jeweler, we decided it was extremely feasible and should only take two-ish weeks.

Before I can use stones from an outside ring though, I have to test them to be sure they're diamonds. So as we do this, he again gets super anxious and starts welling up with tears. Thankfully though, all diamonds according to my tester (and my eye- I can now spot fake shit through a microscope fairly well).

I watch the wave of catharsis role over him like a warm blanket as I tell him the diamonds are all real. He then proceeds to run on a tangent. "is the ring good? Like, did my dad do good? Cause they were poor growing up and they did right by me and my sisters but like, is it a good ring? Did he have to work a lot for it? Is it good? I think it is but I'm not an expert. What do you think?"

It was built probably in the 60s when gold was cheaper and rings were often chunkier. A cathedral style mounting in 14k yellow gold, with three bands of diamonds- one with baguettes on the central cathedral arms flanking the 1ct-ish marquis center diamond, and two bands of round diamonds running below the cathedral arms to give the ring a look like it had two wedding bands joined to either side. It was well made and had weight to it, and all-in-all probably clocked in between 3-4 TDW. A comparable ring like that would probably easily be $10k+ retail in today's market.

So I tell him his dad did good, and he again gets super emotional- but manages to pull himself back enough to calculate the payments with his future wife. They figure out how to make it work, I ring them out and the ball starts rolling. They both shake my hand on the way out and he gives me one of the brightest smiles I can recall seeing anytime recently.

I should mention- his fiance had actually been a regular of the store before when she was married to another guy, who I found out after she left him was extremely abusive towards her. Every time they came in, his vibe was just rancid and everyone could pick up on it. I was happy to learn about her leaving him when she came in and asked me to help her clean up a bunch of jewelry that he had bought her (while cheating on her) so that she could sell it. I was happy to assist.

But, when she and this new dude first met a while later, I thought they weren't long for each other. She's a semi-professional Hispanic woman with 3 kids, and he is... again, a big retriever puppy. You would never picture these two together otherwise.

I see a lot of couples come in that I genuinely feel like are soul mates, or at the very least extremely compatible matches. I also have a lot of couples come in that aren't destined to be together long, and it's apparent within the first few minutes talking with them.

This time though, I have seldom ever been so glad to admit that I was wrong. By any rational measure of thought these two meeting shouldn't have happened, let alone falling for each other and discovering that they work extremely well together. All they want to do is spoil each other, and you can see the love in their eyes when they're talking with one another.

God brings people together through the strangest and craziest of circumstances in a way they never could have facilitated on their own, to form something greater than they ever could make by themselves.

The more I get to see the fruits of that in person, the more I consider myself blessed to have been brought by God to where I am now, to be in a place where I can help people take their miracle and run with it into the sunset.

I don't know if I'll do this job forever. But in the meantime, it sure is good.

[thekhloediary]

Hate That I Love You

Nicholas Chavez x Reader

Hi guys! So I wanted to challenge myself and write a fic that was more than just smut (it’s still here lol) but with a lot more plot, slow burn, and fluff. What did Taylor say? It’s a love story. I really, really enjoyed writing this one and hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think! -Khloe ♡

❝ Some feelings never go away…❞

I wanted him to tell me that he would always love me. I really wanted him to understand. I knew that I was breaking his heart along with mine, but I still wanted for us to be okay. If only we could have just been okay. Maybe that was unrealistic. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. I just know I never wanted him to hate me.

But what I wanted wasn’t what I got.

You’re so fucking selfish were the words that hit me hard. The explosive sound of the door slamming hit me even harder. It was the sound that rang through my ears and echoed through my heart long after he was gone. The sound that told me that we were really over.

And it was all because of me.

All because I chose my dreams. Why couldn’t he just understand that choosing what I loved didn’t mean that I didn’t love him. I loved him so much. But ever since I was a little girl in my first ballet class, all I wanted to do was dance. It was my joy, my passion, and when I got into the performing arts school of my dreams, it was no question. I had to go. But going meant transferring schools and moving across the country to New York. It also meant leaving him.

It had been three years since I left, and while I didn’t regret leaving, I still had those unavoidable moments where ‘what ifs’ occupied my mind. What if we never broke up? What if we had made it work? What if we were still together now? What if…

The truth was, I never stopped missing him. I had a lot of things that made me happy—dance, school, an exciting job, an amazing apartment, and a great group of friends. But I still felt incomplete, like a puzzle with a missing piece. No matter how much time passed or how happy I was in life, there was a dull ache in my heart that never seemed to completely go away.

I still loved him.

I probably always would.

He was my first real love—the one who I thought I’d be with forever. The one who was impossible to forget. I can still remember our first encounter like it was yesterday. I was 18 and at a college party that my best friend talked me into going to. I wasn’t much of a party girl and I rarely drank, but I decided to go with her, and it ended up being the best decision ever because I met him.

Nicholas.

The party was still going strong well into the night with no sign of ending anytime soon. I was ready to go, but my best friend had told me another hour, two hours ago. We shared many similarities, but when it came to partying, we were very different. My best friend was the definition of the life of the party, while I had a good time at parties, but I definitely didn’t party hard.

I was sitting on the couch with a soda when someone came and stood right in front of me.

“A soda?” he spoke, his voice low and teasing.

I looked up to see the most handsome guy looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s wrong with a soda?” I asked, glancing at the canned soda in my hand before returning my attention to him.

“It’s a party. What fun is a soda?” he smirked.

“Oh, I didn’t know beverages had fun,” I said with a small laugh.

He smiled and chuckled. “No? Have you not met beer? How about vodka? She’s a real good time,” he joked.

“I’m not much of a drinker,” I admitted with a shy smile.

“That’s cool,” he shrugged easily. “Be the exception.”

I couldn’t stop laughing. He was really charming and funny. And he was insanely attractive. He had the most perfect smile and the dreamiest brown eyes I’d ever seen.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, already taking a seat beside me.

“Now what if I had said no?” I teased, turning to face him fully.

“You wouldn’t have,” he told me with a knowing smile. “You’re happy for the company. You and your soda looked so bored when I was walking past, I just had to come over. I would’ve felt bad if I didn’t.”

“Enough about my soda,” I laughed. “What are you drinking?”

“Rum and coke,” he raised his cup and gave me a playful smile. “See? I like soda too.”

I laughed again and then leaned in a bit. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“What’s that?”

“I’m not really big on soda either. I wanted a bottled water but there wasn't any in the cooler.”

He let out a disapproving sound and shook his head. “You’re killing me.”

“I know,” I pressed my hand against his chest and tapped playfully. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t know why I did it. It was a bold move touching him like that, but something in me wanted to. He lit a spark in me. He looked down at my hand and then back up to eyes with a smile that indicated he didn’t just mind it—he liked it.

And I already found myself liking him.

“So, tell me, does the pretty girl with the soda have a name?”

I blushed. “Y/N.”

He smiled. “Nicholas.”

That was how our love story began. I couldn’t imagine if I decided not to go to that party or if Nicholas didn’t come up and talk to me. The stars were aligned when we met that night; they brought us together, and every day for the next two years felt like a dream come true.

Then came the dreaded day when it went away.

Back in the present, I shook away the memory and gathered my things before leaving the dance studio where I worked. I had just finished teaching a class and didn’t have another until tomorrow. The rest of my day looked like rest and relaxation.

Before heading home, I made a stop at one of my favorite coffee shops. They made my favorite iced matcha latte, and whenever I was in the area, I couldn’t resist getting one. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted me as I entered. It was a little busy with the afternoon rush, but patience was a virtue and their matcha was the best, so I didn’t mind.

After placing my order, I stepped aside to wait. I was scrolling through my phone when I heard the barista call out a name that made me look up. I nearly dropped my phone when I saw who was approaching the counter. My eyes had to be deceiving me. There was no way it was actually him. But the more I looked, the more I realized I wasn’t seeing things.

It was really him.

It was Nicholas.

Shock was an understatement. I was frozen in place, like a deer caught in headlights. I had no idea how to react, and it seems that Nicholas didn’t either when he saw me. He was visibly shocked and didn’t move for what felt like a long time. The barista called his name again and he politely apologized, snapping out of his trance-like state.

I know it was the last thing I should've been focused on, but I couldn’t help but notice he picked up two cups and wondered who the other was for. Was he seeing someone now? Of course he was. It had been three years and any girl would be lucky to have him. I was lucky. The thought of seeing him with someone else now hit me like a punch in the gut.

When my legs finally decided to move, I grabbed my almost forgotten matcha and walked over to Nicholas. My heart raced as I stood in front of him. He was still so unbelievably handsome, even more so now. How was that even possible?

“Nic?” I said his name disbelievingly, still trying to convince myself that it was really him. “What are you doing here? Well, not here in the coffee shop… I mean here in New York,” I rambled and suddenly felt like an idiot when all he did was stare.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this was the worst. Was he really not going to speak? Not even a hello? At the very least, I thought I would receive a greeting. This coldness wasn't something I was prepared for. Unsure of what else to say or do, I just gave him a small smile that he didn’t return. And he still hadn’t said anything. The silence was growing more uncomfortable, and I was seconds away from leaving when I heard an approaching voice that I instantly recognized as his sister’s.

“Y/N! Oh my God!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement as she pulled me into a hug.

I hadn’t seen Nicole since before I left for school. We still kept in touch through social media, but we obviously weren’t close like we’d been when Nicholas and I were together. I knew through Instagram that she was getting married, and then it dawned on me that was probably why they were here in New York.

“Look at you. Still so pretty, girl,” she smiled.

“No, you,” I smiled back.

She grabbed one of the drinks Nicholas was holding and took an eager sip. “Hello caffeine. Exactly what I needed. This morning has been so busy.” She then squealed excitedly, “I’m getting married tomorrow!”

“Congrats, Nicole.” I said, genuinely so happy for her. “I know it’s going to be so beautiful.” Inadvertently, I looked over at Nicholas, who was now looking down at his phone with an expression that said he wanted to be anywhere else but here right now.

“Thanks, Y/N.” Nicole smiled and then her eyes suddenly lit up. “Wait, are you busy tonight? We’re having a bowling party instead of the usual rehearsal dinner. It’s gonna be a lot of fun. You should totally come.” She glanced at Nicholas. “We would love that. Right, Nic?”

“Sure.” He finally spoke, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

He didn’t want me to go.

I didn’t either.

But since she invited me.

“Okay,” I agreed despite myself.

“Great! I’ll send you the address and see you tonight.”

I gave her a parting smile before I made my way to the door. I couldn’t help but notice Nicholas still had the same tight expression on his face when he finally looked back up. With a heavy sigh, I pushed the door open and left.

It wasn’t too late to change my mind, right?

I should have and just made an excuse that I couldn’t make it. That’s really what I wanted to do, but later on when she sent me the address and expressed her happiness, I decided to go.

When I arrived at the bowling lounge, the party was well under way, with music and happy sounds of everyone enjoying themselves. I sent Nicole a text to let her know I was here, and she met me at the entrance a few moments later.

“So happy you made it,” she said, giving me a quick hug before adding, “I know it might not seem like it, but my brother is too, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.”

I wanted to believe it, but the earlier encounter with Nicholas in the coffee shop didn’t give me much assurance that it was true. I hoped for the best but anticipated the worst again.

We walked over to the bowling lanes and she introduced me to everyone, a few familiar faces. They were all wearing matching bowling shirts and reality struck me that although I was here, I wasn’t a part of their lives anymore, no matter how much I still wanted to be. Nicholas surely reminded me of that.

I spotted him talking with someone near one of the lanes. When I waved at him, he just gave me a quick nod and carried on with his conversation like I was nobody who mattered. He didn’t want me here, and it was painfully obvious. It was still hard to believe that this was us now. I remembered how he would look at me like I was the only girl in the world. Like I was the center of his universe.

Now he acted like I didn’t even exist.

As the night went on, I tried to just ignore how Nicholas was making me feel and focus on having a good time. After bowling, the party moved upstairs to the karaoke section of the lounge. One of Nicole’s bridesmaids had just finished a song when Nicholas headed towards the front. I watched him as he scanned the song selections and chose the one he wanted.

With a bright smile, he picked up the mic. “This is for someone special. She knows who she is.”

Was he talking about me? I suddenly felt nervous.

It didn’t take long to get an answer.

He looked right at me as the instrumental to Bon Jovi’s You Give Love a Bad Name started to play.

My heart immediately sank.

Like most humiliating moments, it felt longer than it actually was. The song seemed to go on and on, like a slow torture, my heart sinking deeper and deeper as Nicholas sang the song to me.

Shot through the heart and you’re to blame…

…you give love a bad name

I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. There was a gleam in his eyes, like he was actually enjoying this. I sat completely mortified, and even more so when it suddenly felt like every pair of eyes in the room were on me. I could’ve sworn that I even heard a few whispers. Then Nicole gave me an apologetic look that somehow made me feel even worse. Sparing myself further embarrassment, I got up to leave.

Standing outside the lounge, I fought back tears. Crying on the New York City streets wasn’t something else I wanted to add to my humiliation. The only thing on my mind now was why did I even come. I had never been more humiliated in my life. How could he do that?

I was reaching for my phone to request an Uber when the door opened and Nicholas walked out.

“So, you were just going to leave?” he asked.

Was he serious? After what he just did?

“Nicholas, please. Just leave me alone,” I said quietly as I walked off. I was embarrassed, emotional, and I couldn’t deal with anything more. I got maybe two steps before his hand closed around my arm.

“No.”

“No?” I shot him a look of incredulity.

“You heard me. No.”

“God, you’re a fucking asshole,” I told him as I reached my limit with the way he was treating me. Did he have to be such a dick?

He scoffed and let go of my arm. “That's a bit rich, coming from you.”

“Say what you will, Nicholas, but I have never done anything intentionally to hurt you. And I never would. That, in there, was fucked up.”

“Let’s not talk about fucked up.” he said, visibly becoming more agitated.

I sighed. “Nic, I’ve tried to apologize so many times. You never wanted to hear it. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I know I left, but it’s been three years and I just thought—”

“Thought what? Thought that everything was good now?” He interrupted, letting out a humorless laugh.

Silence.

“You know what really kills me…” he said, running a hand over his face. “It’s the fact that after all this time you still don’t get it. How don’t you fucking get it?! It really blows my mind that you don’t get that it was never because you left but how you just blindsided me with a breakup.”

His gaze pierced into mine, his eyes filled with hurt and anger that suddenly broke something inside me.

“All I ever did was love and support you. How could you make a decision for me, for us, without even a conversation with me? You got your acceptance letter and then the next thing I know is you’re telling me we can’t be together anymore. That was just it. You want to talk about fucked up? That was fucked up.”

The more Nicholas released, the more I wanted to break down and cry.

Because he was right.

Because I’d hurt him.

Because I still loved him.

“Two years together and you just fucking ended it. Just like that… like it meant nothing.”

“No, Nic…” I started, the tears that I’d been trying to hold back falling. “It wasn’t just like that and it meant everything. Believe me, it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I loved you so much. I didn’t want to end things.”

“Yea, but you did. And the way you did it…” He shook his head. “I deserved better.” He made a motioning gesture between us. “We deserved better than that.”

“I’m sorry.” I sobbed. “You’re right. I should’ve done it differently. I wish I did. But even if I had, Nic, tell me how it would've worked?”

“Maybe it wouldn’t have,” he admitted. “But I know I wouldn’t have given up on us without trying.”

“I’m sorry.” I told him again.

“Yea, you’ve said that.”

“And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.” I reached for his hand. “I never ever meant to hurt you. I’ve spent the last three years still thinking about you.”

I felt a bit of resistance before his hand finally held mine. We stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, the weight of everything we’d said hanging heavy in the air. As I looked into his eyes, I watched him struggle with whatever was going on inside him. Anger? Maybe forgiveness? Did he believe me? I didn’t know, and as much as I wanted to ask, I couldn’t find any words. All I could do was make the most of this moment with him, holding his hand, not wanting to ever let it go.

Then I heard Nicholas release a heavy sigh.

“Why am I doing this…” he said quietly, more to himself than to me.

Before I could ask what he meant, he leaned in and kissed me, taking me by complete surprise. It was a kiss that, for a moment, was soft and almost hesitant, like he wanted to pull away. But when he couldn’t fight it, and when I kissed him back, the kiss became heated, a mixture of shared passion and frustration. I felt his hand move to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. Any thoughts of doubt and hesitation faded as our tongues touched and bodies pressed even closer. For a fleeting moment, it was just Nicholas and I again. No problems. No worries. Just us.

And then it was over. He pulled away slowly, his eyes dazed like mine, like we’d both just woken from a dream that once seemed so close, but now was so far away. Once upon a time, we were deeply in love, living our very own fairytale, and now, I’m not sure what we were—if we’d ever be anything again.

“I gotta get back in there,” he said quietly.

I nodded silently.

Nicholas looked at me, his deep brown eyes reflective, like he wanted to say more, but without another word, he turned and went back inside. My Uber arrived shortly after, and when I got into the car, I sank into the back seat and shut my eyes.

What really just happened?

The next day, I was still thinking about Nicholas and the unexpected kiss. I couldn’t stop it from replaying in my head. I wondered what it meant, if it meant anything. He had been so cold towards me and then… he was kissing me? I couldn’t make sense of it. My mind was racing with questions I had no answers for and thoughts I couldn’t escape.

I had just gotten home from work that evening when my phone chimed. I glanced at the screen, and to my surprise, it was a text from Nicholas. It was five words that stopped me in my tracks and made my heart skip a beat.

I need to see you.

An hour later, he was standing outside my apartment door. I had no idea what to expect after yesterday, but I was certain that I couldn’t handle things going left. I breathed deeply and silently hoped that everything would go right.

I opened the door.

“Hi,” I said, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hi,” he replied, putting his hands in his pockets as we fell into an awkward silence.

“Can I take your jacket?” I offered when the silence went on for a bit too long.

“Oh yea, sure.” He took off his jacket, handing it to me to hang.

“How was the wedding?” I asked as we walked further into my living room. When we were both seated on my couch, I noticed that he sat a bit closer than I would have thought.

“It was really nice,” he said with a smile that warmed my heart. “I’ve never seen my sister happier than she was today.”

I smiled back. “I can’t wait to see pictures. I know it was beautiful.”

Nicholas was quiet for a moment. “Look, I came here to say that I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday.”

“It’s okay.” I said softly.

I didn’t like what happened, but I knew it came from a place of hurt—hurt that I had caused. Maybe he just wanted me to hurt too. But I had already been hurting since that day when I told him we couldn’t be together anymore.

“It’s not okay,” he said. “I could’ve handled it better. I was, in fact, a fucking asshole.”

We both looked at each other after he repeated my words from yesterday and let out a laugh. Sharing a laugh with him felt good. I missed it.

I missed him.

“I don’t want you to hate me, Nic,” I said quietly.

“I don’t hate you,” he admitted. “I’ve tried to. I really did. But I never could. I think I hated that I still loved you. I was angry with you for a long time, and seeing you again brought it all back…”

Nicholas trailed off for a moment, trying to find his next words. It was a short silence before he spoke again.

“I felt angry about the past,” he said, letting out a deep breath. “But then I couldn’t get you out of my head, and all I wanted to do was kiss you. At the wedding today, you were the only thing on my mind. I guess it just hit me that the reason I could never hate you is because…”

The room fell silent again as he looked into my eyes. My heart was racing and my stomach was suddenly in knots as I anticipated what his next words would be—words that I thought I’d never hear him say again.

“…I still love you,” he finally said. “I don’t think I ever stopped.”

My heart nearly stopped beating and it felt like the air had left my lungs. The words echoed through my head, impossible to forget. Oh my God, he said that he still loved me. I almost couldn’t believe it was real. Was it real? Maybe I’d wake up to find it was all a dream. It sure felt like one.

Then it happened again, Nicholas leaned in and he kissed me. Only this time, it wasn’t unexpected. It wasn’t uncertain. It was the kind of kiss that said more than words ever could. It was everything that I had missed, wanted, and never wished to lose again. I could kiss him forever if I had the chance.

Kissing quickly turned into passionate touching, my hands roaming his body—over his arms, his shoulders, his back, the feel of him sending a rush of heat through me. I grabbed the bottom of his shirt, desperate to get closer to him, and he quickly pulled it over his head and tossed it somewhere behind him. My breath hitched at the sight of his smooth skin and hard muscles, the veins in his arms making my mouth water.

“Somebody’s been in the gym,” I smiled, running my hand over his chest and down his abs.

He smiled back, a sexy smile that was appreciative and assured. “Just a little something.”

“Not so little,” I teased, my hand traveling further down, stopping at the waistband of his pants.

Nicholas chuckled softly as he stood up to take off his pants, my eyes following his every move. He reached out to grab my hand, pulling me up from the couch and standing me in front of him. He kissed me again, deep and demanding, as his hands moved to lift my shirt and unhook my bra, both falling to the floor.

The feel of his lips on mine, the taste of kiss, the way his hands explored me—everything about the moment had my body screaming for more. I moaned between kisses, dripping in arousal. I felt his hands slide down my back, and then over my ass, grabbing it firmly, pulling me closer into him. With our bodies pressed together, I could feel him hard and ready. It sent a rush of anticipation through me so intense I nearly shuddered.

“Your room,” he said, his voice rough with want.

I reached for his hand and led the way. We couldn’t get there any faster. I needed this. I needed him.

All of him.

His body covered mine as he pressed me down gently against the bed. He wasted no time kissing me again, hands all over me, like we couldn’t get close enough fast enough. He kissed from my mouth down to my breasts and then further to my stomach. Each kiss and every touch had my body on fire. The years had passed, but the burning passion between us was still there, like a flame, burning intensely and nonstop.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I whispered.

“I can’t either,” he whispered back, placing a kiss right below my navel, making my stomach clench.

Then his kisses went lower.

He held my gaze as he slowly slid my shorts and panties down. The intense look in his eye made me burn with anticipation.

“You missed me?” he asked, his hands pushing my legs further apart as he lowered his head between them. The feel of his breath against my skin was enough to make me quiver.

God, yes. He had no idea how much I missed him. How much I missed this.

“Tell me how much,” he pressed, kissing along my inner thigh. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

I wanted it so bad I was nearly desperate.

“So fucking bad,” I managed to say through breaths.

His mouth was so teasingly close.

“You know,” he whispered, placing another wet kiss to the inside of my thigh. “I can still remember how you taste.” Another kiss. “How you used to sound.” And then another. “How it would drive me crazy.”

“Nic, please,” I whimpered.

He didn’t make me wait any longer.

The first feel of his tongue sent a rush of pleasure surging through me, making me gasp. His mouth was always amazing, but now it felt even better than I remembered. With my eyes closed, my head fell back against the pillows and a soft, breathy moan escaped me.

“That’s it,” Nicholas groaned, his voice low and rough. “God, I’ve missed that fucking sound.”

I wasn’t going to last long. Not with the way he lapped at my wetness with his tongue, first soft and then with more pressure. Not with how his fingers moved inside me, stroking that sweet spot within. Not with the way he licked and sucked my clit, stimulating every single nerve ending. No, I wasn’t going to last long at all, each lick and each touch bringing me closer and closer.

“Nic,” I gasped. “Fuck,”

I felt it coming. He did too. His hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place as his lips closed around my clit and sucked in such a way that it made my entire body shudder. I didn’t just see stars, it felt like I was ascending to another dimension. It was beyond any orgasm he’d ever given me before. It was almost too good and I nearly cried in pleasure when his tongue didn’t let up and took me back into the stars.

Oh God.

I lay breathlessly, my body still trembling from the mind-blowing orgasm. I felt him press a soft, loving kiss against my thigh before he came back up and kissed me, his lips glistening with the taste of me on them.

“This is real, right?” I asked softly, a part of me still believing this was all a dream that I was going to wake up from any minute now.

Nicholas grabbed my hand and guided it down to feel him. Full. Hard. Ready. “I promise you it is.” he said just as softly, letting out a low groan as I stroked him gently.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I told him.

And then he slowly pushed into me, our eyes meeting when he was fully inside. One look at him and I knew he felt it too. How perfect this all was. How it wasn’t just sex but our love story continuing.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You feel even better than I remember.”

And so did he. It was amazing, almost overwhelming, the intensity of everything I was feeling. His words, the sounds of his breaths, the way he hit every right spot in every right way, made me feel an emotion so strong it almost brought me to tears.

“I love you,” I whispered, meeting his every stroke with a rock of my hips. “I never stopped.”

We moved together in perfect rhythm. My walls hugged him tightly, pulling him in closer, wanting him to feel just how much I wanted him. How much I loved him. How much this moment meant. Each stroke of his seemed to convey the same thing as he thrust into me again and again, bringing me closer and closer. I was almost there.

A little deeper.

A little harder.

A little more.

And I was crying out his name, the pleasure rushing through me so intensely it left me trembling.

“Oh, my God,” I moaned breathlessly, my arms wrapped tightly around his back, holding him close.

It was at that moment that Nicholas reached his peak and a rough groan ripped from his throat as he filled me completely.

“I love you too,” he said, his body collapsing against mine.

Nothing could’ve felt better.

In the quiet moments that followed, Nicholas held me in his arms. With my head resting on his chest, I listened to the steady beating of his heart. Tonight had been nothing short of perfect, and all I could think of now was how I wanted to make it last forever. Where did we go from here?

As if he could read my thoughts, Nicholas pulled me closer and placed a soft, reassuring kiss to the top of my head. “We’ll figure it out together this time.”

His words melted my heart. Our love story was far from over. It was a new chapter being written.

This was just the first page.

Tagging all the Nic girlies I follow ♡ @oliviaambs @torikitten @anemoiars @iamsebastiansstan @fiftyshadeschavez @chavezwifeyy @nicholaslut @nickchavezs

[bwobgames]

No houses, ghost or ghouls could ever compare to the absolute terror a loose orange cat could make.

While he is not the one to perpetuate stereotypes, Mozilla is a bit of a … rowdy boy.

He’s a complete sweetheart! Most of the time. When he’s not zooming around the house.

He needs to find him quick, before he has to cover up for another criminal.

Surely he will see the social situation he’s in and behave, right?

Will he be his angle or his debil?

“Agh, I should’ve given him the full dose. He probably woke up and managed to get out.”

Although… there’s something fishy about that statement.

If Firefox was hungry or wanted to get out, he would meow first, then initiate a daring escape, but Oliver didn’t hear anything.

And how could he escape? There doesn’t seem to be any signs of scratches or bite marks around the lock, nor anywhere outside the carrier.

Did his cat become a genius overnight and found out a way to unlatch the lock without leaving any marks?

Actually, new hypothesis. Perhaps he did meow, but Ángel woke up instead and fed him. Thus, a sleepy Ángel could’ve left the hatch badly closed, therefore, feline malice occurs.

That’s the only logical explanation. Even if there’s no signs of Mozilla being fed.

In any case, better catch that orange menace soon, before he terrorizes the poor people. Then he shall interrogate it.

He follows a trail of cat hair, passing the entrance and into the little dining area.

“FIREFOX”

He screams. In his head. With agony.

He sees nothing but a tragedy, as it seems that his devil spawn raided the place.

His dad was right. He should’ve enlisted that cat in the military. To give him discipline.

He sees broken glass, spilled beans and a random half of a fish. Where did he get fish?!

He hurriedly cleans up the broken glass and everything else spilled on the floor. He arranges the glasses, so it doesn’t look like one is missing.

He’s so glad Dominion is inactive. His neighbors were right, he does attract crime.

While cleaning, he notices something on the wall.

A knife set. There’s one missing.

Mozilla… with a knife. God help us all.

But seeing as he doesn’t have any thumbs, it’s more likely a misplaced object by a worker.

Even if his detective intuition says otherwise. Or is it painful memories?

In any case, neither houses nor ghosts need knives. That he knows of.

He quickly makes a mental note of where the emergency brake is.

As he leaves the no longer crime scene, the cat hair trail becomes scattered. He is now stuck on the corridor, leadless and catless.

Until.

“Huh?”

Young Sebastian seems to have mastered the art of guitar dual wielding.

“Ah! You’re Sebastian, yes? What are you doing out here so late?”

“Oh, I found this guitar. I think the mustache kid left it there. But uh, I don’t really want to wake him up…”

“Owen tends to do that. Here, I’ll give it to him in the morning”

“Thanks, uh. Guy”

“I’m Private Detective Oliver Beebo. As the prophecy foretold”

“Private detective? I didn’t know that job still existed. Or that it was profitable”

He has now learned that he gets way less misunderstandings when he clarifies the “Private” part. The last bit is from Vivi.

“Haha, takes lots of effort and self publicity, but it manages”

“Wait, have you been investigating or something?”

“Ah, no. I’m actually looking for my cat. Have you seen an orange creature of evil intent around?”

“A cat? That would explain some things.”

A witness. Oh no.

So he has been causing trouble. Man. But still, a lead is a lead. If Firefox was in the bathrooms around an hour ago- Wait, does that mean…?

“I think I heard scratching from the bathrooms, it scared me half to death. Ah, but it was like, an hour or so ago”

“Have you been awake for long?”

“I haven’t slept yet”

“Wha- Sebastian, that’s not healthy. I get you’re young, but at some point your body will not accept it.”

“Haha, I know. I’m not as young as you think”

“It’s just… been reminiscing. About things”

“What type of things. If you don’t mind me asking”

If you dont mind it being used as information for any house hunting needs.

“Something about this train has been making me feel… nostalgic. I guess.”

“Ah, I get it. My grandma used to live near a station, too. I remember laughing at the surprised chickens when the train passed”

“My mother used to tell me all kinds of stories about the trains she used to take”

“You got chickens?”

“No, no, I’m from the south, and my family worked in the farms.”

“Like, owners of the farms?”

“No? As workers”

“Huh. Sorry it’s just… everyone else is so fancy looking. Ah, I don’t mean to offend I just-“

“I also hang around rich people. It’s interesting to see someone else like me”

“You mean, your friends?”

“My mom worked as a maid, well, “house assistant” or something, but she was literally a maid.”

“Them too but like, others as well”

“At some point we were having a lot of trouble with the rain in our house, so the family she was working for offered us to move in with them”

“So, in a way, I’ve always been around rich people, while living the life of a normal average person”

“At some point though, mom got sick. The family gave her support for medical bills but, she succumbed”

Oh. By “Nostalgia” Sebastian meant Grieving

Wait, this is dangerous.

“I’m so sorry. Was it… COVID?”

“The family offered me to take her place, but I wanted to study.”

“What? No, no. This was a while ago.”

“So, as a token of friendship, I guess. They rent me one of their apartments in a building they own. With a slight discount”

“That’s nice of them, I think. At that point, they probably saw you as their own son”

“That’s… that’s something I been having trouble with”

“My mother never stopped working, even while sick. She also barely had any time to herself, seeing as the family had her at all hours of the day.

She said she liked working there, that the family was kind.

But I could see her swollen feet, only resting at night.

I could see us sitting on another table for lunch.

I could see us being invited to vacations, only for her to be working once more.

Would it really have been okay if she ever said ‘No’ to them? Would she have risked it?

My mother’s illness got worse by stress.”

“I… I guess I’m not sure how to feel.

This place made all those memories return tenfold. All this talk about ghosts makes me think that… Maybe I could see her again”

“Sorry, you seem like a guy who knows things, but I shouldn’t use you as a therapist or a discord vent channel.”

He seems to be going through a lot, and not even counting his dead friend! No wonder he hasn’t slept.

“While your mother had, certainly a sacrificed life, she was honorable.”

“Wow, you really talk like a southern guy”

“Shush, what I’m trying to say is that, she loved you. She would want you to remember the good times with her, not the times she struggled”

“And having those memories, even if looking back becomes painful, is a beautiful thing”

“They were here, They were alive and they were beautiful. And as long as you keep those memories, they will live on”

“…You are a wise guy.”

“I would be even wiser if I could follow my own advice. But my own loss is a bit too fresh yet”

“I get that… I spent like a week just clutching her guitar and crying”

“Is that hers?”

“No, no. This fancy thing is a gift from Fede. Mom was the one who taught me how to play, though”

He gets an idea

“Do you know anything from Los Bunkers?”

[bethanydelleman]

Hello! Sometimes I see people saying Darcy "raised a child (and on his own, is the unsaid implication)" via his care-taking of Georgiana, and I'm a little confused by that. Are we given a year when Darcy's father died? I thought it must have been just a few years ago, so Georgiana was already 12+ and might have been away at school or something - so it's not really Darcy changing his sister's diapers, is it? Plus I thought most of the actual day-to-day care-taking would've been done by Mrs. Reynolds and the other servants, while Darcy was mostly preoccupied with the estate and things, so does that really count as "raising" her? And he shares the guardianship with Col. Fitzwilliam anyway, who must've helped quite a bit, surely... by that definition, did Mr. Knightley "raise" his nephews/nieces every time he babysat for his brother? Did Captain Wentworth "raise" the likely prepubescent midshipmen aboard the Laconia or "raise" Dick Musgrove by making him write letters to his family?

Would appreciate your thoughts on this!

"My excellent father died about five years ago"

-Pride & Prejudice, Ch 35

Georgiana is sixteen during the action of the novel and fifteen at the failed elopement. Their father died when Darcy was around twenty-three and Georgiana was eleven. I personally, having experienced both parenthood and foster care (my parents fostered), would say that taking custody of a recently orphaned tween is harder than caring for a baby. I think that Darcy would be doing whatever a single father in the gentry class would generally do for their daughter or female ward.

As for raising/custody, I think that while Col. Fitzwilliam is a co-guardian, he's possibly just advising on legal matters and protecting the trust with Georgiana's dowry. Darcy probably has what we could call today primary physical custody. How much child raising he's actually doing is debatable, Georgiana is certainly in boarding school at some points and would have had a nursemaid/governess, but I would give him credit for being his sister's guardian and I would bet they had a hard year together after their father died (we don't know when the mom died, though it was likely prior to the father).

As to raising her, one of the things I've always found a little strange about the relationship between Mr. Darcy and his sister is that he's praised so much for being a considerate brother but he doesn't seem to actually be living with her. She has been taken out of school and lives with a female companion. Pemberley is not her permanent residence until the epilogue, so I assume she's living at the Darcy house in London. Henry Crawford in Mansfield Park gets a lot of censure for not living with his adult sister at his estate, but Darcy is fine even though whenever we see him, he's travelling without her. Now I don't know if the big difference here is that Mary is "out" while Georgiana is transitioning to "out," but I'd love to hear an expert opinion on this one.

As for your examples, I think Captain Wentworth and considerate captains like him were likely father figures for their midshipmen (remember these kids went in at 11/12 years old!) and I would count that as "raising" in some sense. Babysitting Knightley nephews, not the same. Darcy did, at 24, have primary custody of an eleven year old girl and I think he deserves some credit for raising her. I certainly would say that Sir Thomas raised Fanny Price and she was about eleven as well, though he did a terrible job of it.

[motley-box-rose-1]

Ok, I’m super late to the party, but I just watched this episode like *checks watch* 10 minutes ago? So I really want to spill all of my fresh thoughts onto Tumblr before going to bed—and for the record, I’m not even the type to post a lot of wordy stuff about media!

Anyway though, Beebs and Shrike continue to be my favorites. I know there was a lot of stuff going on this episode, and there are a lot of things I can gush over, but these two and their relationship are really the heart of this show, and honestly their relationship is what I have the most thoughts about right now. So forgive me as I ramble a bit aimlessly about it.

Firstly, it was so interesting seeing Shrike and Beebs separate from one another in a relatively casual setting (even if that “casual setting” still held an undercurrent of potential danger which I really liked). Seeing them on their own, exposed to some of their… I guess sore spots? Allowed for a lot of insight into who they are and really made me further invested in their characters.

Shrike’s quick little confession of “I don’t think I like me” was SO sad, like it really caught me off guard and felt so genuine and grounded. Shrike, like anyone else, hates to screw up. He has good intentions, but poor impulse control among some other flaws—also, yeah, definitely a gambling problem. I thought it felt very true for him to justify the problem. Like yeah, it’s clear he DID have good intentions on a certain level… but that’s kind of how people justify falling off the wagon or repeating bad behavior. They come up with passable reasons for it! And in a way the gambling feels a lot like a picture of how Shrike operates as a whole. He takes risks for big rewards, but it’s not even really about the reward itself? Maybe this is me imagining character traits in the wrong places—it might be too early to tell for sure, and I should probably rewatch the earlier episodes to better confirm this—but I kind of feel like Shrike has something prove. Not just to himself or others, but especially to Beebs. That motivation to please his friend and help lighten his burdens really came through here. And I kind of wonder what Shrike thinks Beeb’s burdens ARE. He obviously cares about his friend, he knows things are difficult right now… does he think about his own contributions to that? Does he feel responsible? Does Shrike feel like one of those burdens?

Again, this could just be wild speculation on my part, but I think the idea is interesting.

As for Beebs, I REALLY loved his parts too. He gets angry and feels deeply like anyone, but I never knew how much I’d appreciate a character who is just so… level-headed and intentionally chill. Like, there are some characters out there who nail the chill and coolheaded archetype as well, but with Beebs it feels lot more effortful. He gets angry for sure, but he doesn’t lash out recklessly, he doesn’t hurt people in his anger. It’s a very mature type of chill that I find super endearing and human. Beebs is fun-loving and adventurous, but he also has a sort of emotional maturity that I really like.

With that said, I also definitely enjoyed how this episode hinted at some of the obstacles that Beebs has faced in life, informing who he is now, paired with the contrast of how Beebs views Shrike vs how everyone else sees him. That moment in the repair shop was especially telling. Beyond the implied financial differences between the two, Tyneen and Beebs have very different perceptions of their prosthetics as well as certain “dead weight” in their life. Tyneen is able to view the event that caused her injury as a net positive in the long run. Beebs seems to view his own as a bit more… shameful? Embarrassing? And then of course Tyneen makes the direct connection with Shrike. She says Beebs needs to cut him off; Shrike is simply useless and deadweight.

This is cool for a number of reasons. It addresses Beeb’s loyalty, which we didn’t necessarily need but was nice to see anyway. But more importantly, the following scenes with… Ajax? (I think that’s his name) also help imply WHY Beebs might be so stalwart. Beyond being a guy who seems to appreciate people and life in general, and being a guy who enjoys the role of protector and caregiver, I think Beebs, having experience with being looked down on, seen as inferior, as useless or a shame on the people around him, might have more compassion for Shrike—someone who doesn’t judge Beebs for being who he is, and who is “useless” and a misfit in his own right. And if that’s the case, I find that really compelling!

Anyway, there’s obviously still more to resolve in the next episode (which I am very much looking forward to), and I didn’t actually cover a lot here, but I just wanted to ramble for a bit. This is a fun show with fun characters!

Wow, new Ep tomorrow!