#hey mister! she's my sister!

[nicknumber]

Esme Beringer as the troubadour and Vera Beringer as the lady in My Lady's Orchard

The sisters also starred opposite each other in Romeo and Juliet. Esme specialized in breeches roles and was a skilled fencer. Vera originated the role of Little Lord Fauntleroy in London and wrote 19 plays.

Their brother Guy also invented the word "brunch". So, quite a family.

[hoshifighting]

      wonwoo!best friend's brother

— your best friend's older brother, the guy who dropped out of university a long time ago but still shows up once in a while at your and your best friend's dorm. the thing is, she's in a tutoring class right now, leaving you and him alone after all these years of having a huge crush on him.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, making out, almost getting caught, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, blowjob, spiting.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

you hear the door click as you wipe down the last bit of the counter, the smell of cleaning products lingering in the air. wonwoo’s here again—because of course, he is. once a year, like clockwork, he pulls up outside your dorm building, car keys in hand, sipping some energy drink like he’s the busiest man alive, even though he’s been out of university for, what? two years now? maybe more. it’s almost funny, how he thinks showing up in his beat-up car, leaning against the doorframe, makes him look cool.

your best friend’s not even here. she’s in some tutoring session because she "really needs to pass this bio class." but, of course, she told you, warned you, that wonwoo might drop by.

“hey,” he says, leaning against the doorframe like some kind of model, downing a sip from the can like it's giving him more life than it should.

“she’s not here,” you say, wiping your hands on your shorts. you’re pretending like you’re not even thinking about the way they’re barely covering anything right now. it’s just cleaning clothes, but you catch his eyes flick down for half a second, and your heart skips a beat.

“oh? what, she ditch me or something?” he teases, eyes sparkling with that casual cockiness he always carries around.

you laugh, shaking your head. “nah, she’s at a tutoring session. bio, i think? she’s stressing hard. she said she’d be back in a couple hours, so you can wait if you want... or leave. i won’t stop you.”

“tutoring? she actually studying? i thought she gave that up ages ago,” he snickers, leaning against the couch, tapping his foot like he’s been there forever. “reminds me of my sister, always freaking out about school... only she actually tries.”

you snort, rolling your eyes. “yeah, well, not everyone’s like you, mister ‘dropped out but still thinks he runs the place.’”

“i’m just here for the vibes,” he shrugs, eyes settling on you for a little too long, way too comfortable. way too focused. “plus, i wouldn’t call it ‘dropping out’... i just, y’know, found my path elsewhere.”

you shake your head, pretending not to care. but fuck, that grin? dangerous. absolutely dangerous. the guy is too good-looking for his own good, and the fact that he’s here, all casual like he’s just dropping by, is making your heart race in a way you’re desperately trying to ignore. and those eyes—yeah, you can feel him looking at you.

you turn, grabbing a water from the fridge to cool down because jesus, he’s looking right through you. you twist the cap and take a long gulp, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks, trying to play it cool.

“you good?” his voice cuts through the silence. casual, like it’s no big deal.

you choke a little on the water and turn around, trying not to look flustered. “yeah, yeah. why wouldn’t i be?”

he raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “dunno, just... you’re kinda tense. cleaning stress?”

you laugh it off, but the sound’s more nervous than you want it to be. “something like that.”

fuck, why is this so hard?

he takes another sip of his red bull, his eyes flicking over your legs again, slower this time. it’s like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and you’re just... standing there, pretending you don’t feel it, but inside, you’re absolutely losing your mind. freaking out.

“you always this... jumpy around me?” he asks, smirking like he already knows the answer.

“shut up,” you toss a dish towel at him, more as a distraction for you than him, but he catches it easily, his grin widening.

“what, can’t take a little teasing? you’ve been dodging my questions all day.”

all day? he’s been here for twenty minutes. still, your stomach flips at the way he’s just standing there, so confident, so sure. it’s unfair how hot he is when he’s like this, leaning against the counter, arms crossed like he’s just waiting for you to crack.

“i’m not dodging anything,” you lie, crossing your arms, even though you know your face is giving you away. “you’re just being annoying.”

“am i?” he steps closer, his voice dropping slightly. “or am i just... distracting you?”

“wonwoo,” you start, your heart’s pounding, your skin tingling. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” he’s closer now, and fuck, he’s standing way too close, his breath brushing your cheek as he leans in. “i’m just talking, y/n.”

just talking, but the way his eyes drop to your lips says otherwise, and you’re not sure how much longer you can pretend this isn’t happening.

you’ve never been this close to him before, and it’s making your pulse race, your head spin. his hand hovers near your hip, like he’s waiting for permission, waiting for you to crack. it’s not fair how good he smells.

“you used to play dolls with my sister, you know,” he mutters, his lips brushing your ear. “now look at you.”

his fingers graze your waist, light at first, but the way his eyes lock on yours? there’s no going back. you shiver, heat pooling in your gut, and his hand slips lower, gripping the curve of your ass like it belongs to him. he laughs softly when you gasp, his other hand trailing up your side, fingers brushing the thin fabric of your top.

“wonwoo, you can’t just—” your words cut off as he cups your tit, thumb running over your nipple through your shirt, the sensation making your knees go weak. it’s so subtle, but you feel everything—his breath on your neck, the rough texture of his palm, the way his body presses against yours like he can’t stand the distance anymore.

“what? can’t just what?” his voice is low, mocking, as he leans down, his lips inches from yours. “you’ve been staring at me like that for years, y/n. you think i didn’t notice?”

your brain short-circuits as he presses his mouth to yours, starting slow, teasing, like he’s waiting for you to snap. and when you kiss him back—hard, desperate, craving more—he groans against your lips, his tongue immediately slipping past them. he sucks on your tongue like he’s savoring the taste, his hand squeezing your ass, pulling you closer as you try to remember how to breathe. it’s wet, sloppy, and so fucking messy, the sound of your lips meeting, tongues sliding against each other, filling the small kitchen.

you moan into his mouth, gripping his shirt, trying to keep up with the way he devours you, his other hand now fully under your shirt, palming your bare tit. it’s so much—too much, and you arch into his touch, losing yourself in the heat of it all.

and then you hear it.

keys, fumbling at the front door. shit.

you push him away so fast he stumbles back, eyes wide, lips shiny and swollen from your kiss. his fingers are still brushing his bottom lip, eyes flicking to the door in disbelief as the knob turns.

“fuck,” you whisper, trying to catch your breath, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, but you can’t stop shaking. you dart back to the sink, pretending to scrub some nonexistent spot, heart racing a mile a minute.

the door flies open, and your best friend bursts in, barely even noticing the two of you. “i forgot this fucking book,” she mutters, rummaging through her stuff on the couch. her back is to you both, and wonwoo’s standing there, hands in his pockets, trying his best to look casual.

he smirks at you, and you glare back, your mind racing, heart pounding. does she know? she can’t know.

“you two good?” she asks, barely glancing your way as she grabs her stuff. “i’ll be back in like, fifteen minutes. sorry. tutor’s gonna kill me if i don’t bring this. see you in a sec.” and just like that, she’s gone again, the door slamming shut behind her.

the second the door clicks, wonwoo bursts out laughing, dragging a hand through his hair, and your face is burning.

“did you just shove me away?” he teases, stepping closer again, his hands now resting on the counter behind you, trapping you. “scared of getting caught, huh?”

you shove at his chest, but you’re laughing too. “you’re insane. she could’ve seen us, you idiot.”

“what, and ruin the fun?” he grins, biting his bottom lip, and your stomach flips at the sight. “you should’ve just let her. i think she’d approve.”

you roll your eyes, but before you can say anything else, his mouth is on yours again—rougher this time, more desperate. it’s like he’s making up for lost time, kissing you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted, hands roaming over your body like he’s been dying to touch you. you’re pressed back against the counter, trapped between him and the hard surface, and it feels so fucking good.

“wonwoo, the couch,” you murmur between kisses, pushing at his chest just enough to make him move. he gets the hint, pulling you toward the couch, his hand never leaving your waist, never giving you a chance to breathe.

the second your back hits the cushions, he’s on you again, kissing you so hard it leaves you dizzy, his hands wandering everywhere—your thighs, your waist, your tits. he’s fucking everywhere, and you can’t think, can’t breathe, all you can feel is him, everywhere.

his fingers slide under the waistband of your shorts, teasing the edge, but you grab his wrist, pulling him back. “not yet,” you whisper, eyes locked on his. “let me…”

you trail off, sliding off the couch, sinking to your knees between his legs. wonwoo’s eyes widen, the teasing smirk on his face replaced with pure shock. “wait—”

“shh,” you murmur, already tugging at his belt, pulling his jeans down just enough to free him. your mouth waters at the sight of him, long, hard and already dripping. you can’t help but smirk up at him before leaning in, taking him into your mouth in all in once, in the most greedy way.

wonwoo groans, his head falling back against the couch, his fingers threading through your hair as you start to move. you take him like your favorite popsicle, hollowing your cheeks, loving the way his hips buck up into your mouth, the way he can’t control the sounds he’s making.

he pants, his voice strained, and it only spurs you on, sucking harder, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him all the way down again. the sound of your mouth, wet and sloppy, fills the room, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

he tightens his grip in your hair, guiding you as he thrusts into your mouth, his eyes squeezing shut as he moans your name again, louder this time. you can feel him getting close, his thrusts making you gag slighty, his hips jerking up more urgently.

“fuck, i’m—” he chokes out, but before he can finish, his hips stutter, and he comes with a loud groan, spilling into your mouth. you swallow every drop, not slowing down until he’s completely spent.

you pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning up at him.

his hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back on his lap. “c’mere,” he mutters. and before you know it, his lips are on yours again, urgent, like he needs to taste you all over again. the mix of your spit and his cum lingers, and when his tongue swipes along the side of your mouth, to catch more of the taste of him.

his hands slide down to your shorts, fingers curling around the waistband like they’ve been itching to take them off from the second he walked in. you flinch when he pulls them off, showing your panties. his fingers brush against it, and then pulling to the side, and you’re already losing it, but then he spits.

right on your pussy.

you tense when two fingers slide inside you rough, curling just the way you like—coincidentally. you clench around him, moaning, but it’s not enough. you need more, and he knows it.

“so fucking wet for me,” he groans, his other hand pushing your legs open wider. “you’ve wanted this for how long, huh? wanted me to fuck you like this?”

you can’t even answer, your brain is mush, overwhelmed by the way his fingers pump in and out of you, quick and dirty, making you arch into his touch. and then—without warning—he pulls his fingers out and lines himself up, slipping inside you so easily, you gasp.

he’s still sensitive, you can tell by the way his breath catches, how his hips jerk forward a little too fast, but the way his dick stretches you out? it’s perfect. too perfect. your eyes roll back, a shaky moan leaving your lips as he starts thrusting, slow at first, like he’s trying to control himself, but that doesn’t last long.

you’re in his lap, legs spread, every little reaction of his face right there in front of you—the way his eyes squeeze shut, his mouth falling open, all the little groans and curses spilling from him as he fucks into you. it’s like he can’t hold back anymore, can’t resist, but still needs to fuck you, to please you.

he lays you, grabs your knees, pulls them up to your chest, bending you in half so he can get even deeper. the angle’s brutal, his cock hitting that sweet spot with every rough thrust, and the room’s filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, his low grunts, your breathless moans.

you’re a wreck under him, fingers clutching at the couch cushions, barely able to keep up with the way he’s pounding into you. his thrusts are rough, fast, almost desperate, like he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach, and every time he slams into you, your whole body shakes.

“wonwoo—fuck, i’m—” you try to warn him, but the words don’t come out right. everything’s too much—the way his hands hold you down, the way he’s fucking you so deep, the pressure building low in your belly until you’re falling apart. you clench around him, your orgasm ripping through you hard, your back arching off the couch as you moan his name.

he watches you, watching that smile on your face, that one that you have when you win a prize, how satisfied you look by being fucked—especially by him, how your eyes roll in ecstasy, nd how you spasm around his cock. is enough for him.

and then it’s over. you’re both panting, bodies spent. he pulls out slowly, leaving you feeling empty. you’re barely conscious as he reaches over, grabbing the nearest blanket and draping it over you, his touch surprisingly gentle for how hard he just fucked you.

“don’t move,” he mutters, smirking at you as he gets up, still zipping up his jeans. “you look good like this.”

you’re too tired to respond, sinking deeper into the couch, eyes half-closed. the door opens again—shit—and your best friend barges in, completely unaware of what just happened.

“ugh finally,” she mutters, tossing it onto the table. “you two good?”

he just grins, wiping his bottom lip with his thumb as he leans against the counter, casual as hell. “just keeping y/n company, we were waiting for you” he says, winking at you when your best friend isn’t looking.

you’re still sprawled out on the couch, barely able to move, trying to act normal, like you weren’t just fucked within an inch of your life, like you weren't just fucked with jeon wonwoo. your best friend glances between the two of you, raising an eyebrow, but she doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re completely knocked out.

“whatever,” she mutters, grabbing her stuff. “i’m going to take a bath.”

the door of the bathroom slams shut, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. wonwoo walks back over to you, chuckling softly as he sits down beside you, leaning in to kiss your forehead, the teasing smirk never leaving his face.

“you should’ve seen your face when she walked in,” he murmurs, his voice low. “but don’t worry. you looked so innocent.”

[invincibledc]

꩜ .ᐟ𝐌𝐲 𝐀𝐱𝐞

𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 (𝐎𝐂) 𝐗 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐒!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★ Summary: due to his momma Harley, his only guardian he trust, she gives some new weapons. And he knows the only person he wants to show them off to. His only special person.

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★ Genre: crack fic(?)/fluff

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★ Info: this is an OC I thought of cause I got bored. He’s the son of Harley Quinn and joker. Full name, Jacklyn Oswald Quinn. Reader is the twin sister of Damian, but Damian is the older twin of course. Im only a writer so you can imagine who he looks more like but all I can is he is handsome canonically in my head and anything. Boy’s crazy but handsome. Yea the title is inspired by ICP. I love ICP.

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★ Word count: 1,307

Rushing downstairs, you barely glanced at Damian, who raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going, sister?” he asked, pausing his ascent to watch you closely.

“To hang out,” you replied flatly, ready to bolt. You knew he would push back, and you were right as he grabbed the back of your shirt.

“Don’t tell me. It’s that sociopath heir of the Joker,” Damian said, disappointment clear in his voice. “You know father wouldn’t be happy to know you’re seeing him.” He released your shirt, allowing you to fix it while he maintained a firm stance.

“Damian, I doubt Dad cares who I’m dating. Plus, Jack isn’t like Joker, and you know that” you shot back, narrowing your eyes and crossing your arms, mirroring his stance. You both stood there, locked in a standoff, neither willing to back down.

“I’m only looking out for my little sister. That’s my priority,” Damian said with unwavering intensity. You scoffed, throwing your arms up in exasperation.

“Dames, it’s not that serious. He lives with Harley, and you know she’s changed. Let it go.” His gaze softened slightly, signaling a tentative victory on your part.

“Fine. But you better call or text me when you reach her apartment,” he conceded.

“Alright, thanks! Bye, Bubba, love you!” You quickly hugged him and stepped out of the manor, accepting your jacket from Alfred. As Damian watched you leave, Alfred patted him on the back.

“I assume you’ve put the tracker in her jacket?”

“Of course Pennyworth,” Damian replied with a smirk before heading upstairs.

☆

The reason you were headed to see Jack was simple—Harley had gotten him new gadget weapons, and he was eager to show you how they worked. He had called you, practically yelling with excitement, his raspy voice cracking as he coughed before calming down.

You could have taken a ride with Alfred, but who would suspect anything ordinary with a fancy limousine pulling up to a regular apartment complex?

Upon arriving, you entered and pressed the buzzer. A buzz echoed, and you recognized that familiar rasp.

“Is that you, puddin’?” His Brooklyn accent came through, and you could hear his mother chuckling in the background.

“Hey, that’s Y/n to you, mister,” you teased. You heard him chuckle in response. “Yes ma’am,” he purred. “Come up so I can see you, babe.”

You hummed in agreement and stepped into the elevator, enduring the strange elevator music. When the elevator jolted slightly and stopped, you instinctively steadied yourself, arms outstretched like in a scene from Jurassic Park.

Once it opened, you made your way to Jack’s door. As you reached to knock, it swung wide, revealing the blonde-haired boy with blue eyes. He swept you up, spinning you around, and laughter spilled from your lips.

“Well, hello gorgeous,” he said in a low voice as he set you down, wrapping his arms around you.

“Hello, Jackie-boy.” You cupped his face, feeling him melt under your touch. Just as he leaned in to kiss you, Harley’s loud voice interrupted you both. Jack groaned while you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“C’mon, sweetie pie, I know you missed your little girlfriend. But no kissing in front of Mommy.” Jack’s eyes widened, his face flushing with embarrassment.

“Mom!” He released you and pushed Harley out of the living room. “Okay, maybe it’s time to tell Aunt Ivy about your new nails.” Harley glanced at her nails as she was pushed into her room.

“You’re so right!” She exclaimed, slamming the door behind her as Jack sighed dramatically.

“Alright,” he said, turning back to you with a smirk. “Now let’s get to work.”

☆

“Okay, this is my axe,” Jack announces confidently, swinging a striking black and red axe that perfectly matches Harley’s aesthetic. He sweeps it over his leftover, resting a hand on his hip with a smirk as you settle onto the couch. He sets down an array of weapons on the table: a hammer, cards, small balls, and clown noses.

“Oooh, so lumber Jack. What's your new name, the lumberjacker?” you tease with a sly smile hiding behind your hand.

“Very funny, babe. But no,” he retorts, swinging the axe with effortless precision, twirling it in the air before catching it and placing it down. “Besides, this hammer can pack a punch.”

As he says this, he glances your way with a mischievous spark, then grabs the hammer. “Here, hold it.” He extends it toward you. You raise an eyebrow, accepting the challenge, but as you grip the hammer, you instinctively yelp, feeling its weight pull you down.

“Th-this is heavy!” you exclaim, glancing up at his smug expression. “Of course, it’s customized to my hand. It’s like phone touch ID,” he retorts, effortlessly lifting the hammer from your hands. He swings it behind his back, arms wrapped around the wooden shaft.

“And it’s inspired by my ma’s old tools,” he states proudly, placing it down next to the axe. He picks up the cards while you return to your seat, brushing your hands off and watching him keenly.

“Isn't that the same set of cards that explode?” you challenge, pointing at them. Jack chuckles, his voice resonating with amusement. “Nah, they blow smoke. If I find myself in a tight spot, I just toss these down and disappear.”

You hum in amusement, and Jack's smile widens at your reaction. “That’s right. I’d test them out, but my momma warned me against it,” he adds, setting them down beside the small white balls. “You know, because of the smoke detector,” he finishes, glancing at the clown noses with curiosity. You pointed with your head at it.

“What’s up with these? Looks like you’re becoming a real clown boy, Quinn,” you remark with a smirk.

“Oh please, these?” He scoffs in mock disdain. “They’re just bombs. I throw them, they stick, and BOOM!” he exclaims loudly, demonstrating the action with his hands, making you chuckle despite yourself.

You shift your focus to the balls. “So what’s the deal with those?” you inquire, pointing at the small, innocent-looking objects.

“Oh, those?” He scoops them up and begins juggling effortlessly, grinning as he spins around to face you. “These are flashbangs the size of ping pong balls.” He throws you a smirk reminiscent of that viral TikTok emoji.

“Wow, so creative,” you clap sarcastically, barely suppressing a grin. Jack frowns before blowing a raspberry at you. “Jeez, babe, so cold—colder than Mr. Freeze. But whatever,” he says, placing the balls down and moving closer to you on the couch.

He plops himself down beside you, pulling you closer until your thighs touch, his arm encircling your back. “I’m really glad you came over. I thought I’d have to drag you out another way,” he says softly, leaning in closer.

You lean in, feeling the chemistry crackle between you. His hand glides down to your waist, giving it a decisive squeeze. Your breaths intertwine as you gaze into his blue eyes, which soften before he closes them. You mirror his action, drawing closer…

“HEY!”

You and Jack jump apart, landing on opposite sides of the couch as Harley appears between you, phone pressed to her ear, her expression a mix of determination and mischief.

“Hey, kid, mind if I feed you some mac n cheese?” Harley asks, her raised brow demanding a response.

“Uhh… no?” you reply with a shrug, watching as her frown disappears. “Awesome! Won’t take long,” she says, striding away while you catch snippets of Poison Ivy’s voice from the other room. “I know, right?! How could she even say that when she’s on her fourth husband?!” Harley exclaims as she heads to the kitchen.

Jack sighs, covering his face with a hand, lost in thought. You glance at him, sensing his frustration.

When will he finally get the uninterrupted time alone with you that he craves?

[motorsportbarbie13]

Aftermath - Chapter 8

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make something out of nothing for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: lando makes an appearance in this one. abusive language used, including sexist name calling. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 3.9k words a note: here it is babies!!! the last one in this series. i know it's been different from what i usually write, but this has been so much fun. extra special thank you to @lestapiastrisgirl as usual for beta reading and holding my hand at 2am when i wake up struck by an idea hahaha <3

Aftermath - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Aftermath - Chapter 3 Aftermath - Chapter 4 Aftermath - Chapter 5 Aftermath - Chapter 6Aftermath - Chapter 7 Master List

madmaxx1 posted

52 likes liked by ferrarisprince16, babyleclercpriv, jadebby, and others madmaxx1 pretty pretty girl ferrarisprince16 hey! so this is insane! >>>artiebartie yeah! stop thirsting over our sister >>>madmaxx1 never babyleclercpriv <3 jadebby god you two are so cute it's gross

missleclerc posted

missleclerc surprise! some new pieces are debuting at @/nessasgallery TONIGHT. I'll be there to discuss this new direction my art is going in along with what (and who) inspired me to try such a drastic new approach to painting. I hope you'll drop by and take a look, it would be lovely to see you! maxverstappen1 does this make me your muse??? >>>charlesleclerc hey! my car is up there right next to you! that means I'm a muse too! >>>missleclerc you two are ridiculous >>>user0298 uhhhhhhhh... user1029 ferrari and red bull without a mclaren in sight. iiiiiiinteresting >>>user1100 i think this is all the breakup confirmation we need user455 oh shes in LOVE LOVE with max >>>user444 oh this is so messy. i love it. give me 12 more seasons right now.

“If we don’t leave in the next ten minutes, we’re going to be late for your own event, pretty girl.” Max tuts at you from the doorway of your bedroom but there’s no bite behind his words. 

You glance up at him from your vanity where you’re sitting doing the last bits of your makeup. He looks heartbreakingly handsome in crisp white button-down underneath a tailored navy blue sport coat and matching slacks. His hair is combed neatly to the side, gelled into submission in a way that makes you want to rake your fingers through it just to muss it up. 

“I’m nearly ready, mister bossy pants.” You shoot back before switching off the light on the vanity and standing up. 

Max rolls his eyes but takes advantage of you walking towards him, smile on your face, and blatantly ogles you. The way the navy blue lacy dress hugs every dip and curve of your frame has Max checking his watch, wondering just how late you two could be without raising suspicion. 

“Don’t get any ideas.” You giggle, wrapping your arms around Max’s waist before pitching up onto your toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You were just scolding me that we can’t be late and then you come in here looking at me like that.” 

“It’s not my fault you look like a goddamn masterpiece in that dress.” He murmurs against your neck as he drags hot, open mouthed kisses down towards your collar bone. 

The way Max talks to you now, the reverent way he looks at you like you’re a piece of art in the most normal of situations, the way he always has to be touching you even with just the tips of his fingers, it’s everything you’ve ever craved from a relationship and everything you thought you didn’t deserve. 

Two weeks have passed since that night in your studio and while Max had to be gone for half of it for a race, one that you had solidly refused to attend until the dust between you and Lando settles a little more, it’s almost as if you two have been together for years now. The way you’ve slotted yourself into his life and Max into yours is so settling, so calming that you’ve caught yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’ve caught yourself waiting for him to behave like Lando, to push you away or do something that proves that Lando was right all along. 

Max knows you’ve been waiting for it so he’s made an extra effort to prove to you that it’s never going to happen. He knows you’re still healing, still recovering from what the British driver did to you so he hasn’t pushed. He hasn’t pushed to label whatever it is you two are to each other. It doesn’t matter to either of you because if you’re both in Monaco, you’re together. Max comes down to your apartment to watch while you cook dinner or you go up to his to cuddle on the couch and spend the night. It’s been a blissfully quiet time but you can both feel that private time coming to an end. 

The comments on your post from earlier had been mostly positive but it was pretty apparent fans had put two and two together. People knew you and Max were…something. They had figured out that a breakup had taken place even if nothing had officially been announced. You knew that once you arrived to the gallery tonight, hand in hand with Max, that was all it was going to take to confirm to the public that you and Lando were over and you had moved on. 

The thought of what Lando might do after he sees the coverage of tonight, and you know there will be coverage, has anxiety sitting heavy on your shoulders. Max clocks it instantly, shaking his head. He reads you so easily now, he always has but since that night in your studio, he’s been even more in tune with you and your moods. 

“Don’t go there. It’s going to be fine. Everyone who loves you, who matters, is going to be there and we won’t let anything or anyone ruin tonight, okay?” 

You nod, attempting to tamp down the anxiety that blooms hotly in your chest. You hated how much control Lando still had over you sometimes but you were getting better, bit by bit. “Thank you.” You whisper, nuzzling into the crook of Max’s neck while inhaling the scent of his cologne. 

“I have something for you.” Max murmurs into your hair in an obvious attempt to distract you. 

You pull back, eyes sparkling up at him. “You do?” 

Distraction successful. 

Max reaches into the back pocket of his slacks and pulls out a rectangular velvet box. You blink up at him in confusion. “Max…” 

“It’s just something small to show you how proud I am of you, how wildly in love I am with you.” He says, the words skittering up your spine before settling deep in the pit of your stomach. You’ve never been loved in the way Max loves you and it’s always seemingly knocking you off your center. “Go on, open it.” He whispers, watching as you turn the velvet box over in your hands. 

The hinges on the box whisper open and you’re momentarily speechless when you see what is nestled in the black satin. A diamond tennis necklace winks up at you with dozens of brilliant cut diamonds set in what looks to be platinum, stealing the very breath from your lungs. The stone that sits nestled in the center though is what renders you completely speechless. A large emerald cut brilliant blue sapphire stone sits in the middle of the necklace, the color a perfect match to the navy blue of Max’s Formula 1 car. 

“Max.” You whisper, unable to find any other words beyond his name. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, eyes searching yours earnestly, looking for approval in your face. 

“It’s…” The words to describe the beauty of the piece sitting heavy in your hands escapes you. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, a small, involuntary gasp escaping your lips. The diamonds, so bright they seem to shimmer with the captured light, blur and swim together as tears prick at your eyes. “Max,” You manage again, your voice thick with emotion that you struggle to get a handle on. “It’s breathtaking.” 

He reaches for the necklace, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a surge of pleasure down your spine. His touch, simple as it is, is familiar but charged with a new intensity. He lifts the delicate chain, the cool metal a stark contrast against the warmth of his skin, and fastens it around your neck after you spin for him while lifting your hair out of the way. The weight of the piece settles against your skin, a physical reminder of his affection, his love for you. Love. The word echoes int he quiet space of your mind, a sound so heavy but exhilarating that it has fresh tears threatening to spill over. 

“Turn around.” He murmurs, voice husky. Max takes a step back, eyes raking over you, a slow appreciative burn in their blue depths. 

You obey, your movements a little stiff and unsure. As you turn, the sapphire catches the light, flashing a vibrant, rich blue against the pale glow of your skin. You spot your reflection in the mirror across the room just as you turn back to face Max and your breath catches again. The necklace transforms your outfit into something extraordinary. It’s not just beautiful, it’s…meaningful. It’s a symbol of his belief in you, his pride in being with you, his acceptance of you, flaws and all.

 It’s a promise, whispered against your skin. 

“It’s too much.” You whisper, the words barely audible. The sheer extravagance of the gift, the depth of the emotion behind it, is almost too overwhelming. 

Max steps closer, his hands slipping around your waist as he pulls you against his body. “It’s not too much.” He says, his voice gentle but firm. “You deserve the world, everything beautiful and bright and good. And this?” He gestures to the necklace clasped around your neck, the sapphire resting in the hollow of your throat, “This is just a small token of my love.” 

“Thank you.” You whisper, the words wholly inadequate and insufficient to describe the way your stomach is swirling with emotion but it’s all you can manage in the face of such overwhelming emotion. You reach up, your fingers tracing the cool surface of the center stone. It feels like a piece of him, a tangible representation of the connection you both share. And in that moment, surrounded by the quiet him of unspoken emotion, you know that whatever happens tonight, whatever Lando might do to ruin the night or in the future, you’re not alone. You have Max. And that, you realize, is more precious than any piece of jewelry that Max could ever give you. 

f1.gossip.news posted

f1.gossip.news in a move that shocked...absolutely no one, charles leclerc's little sister stepped out hand in hand with new flame max verstappen tonight. while her and lando never officially announced their split, we've all seen the writing on the wall. her insta post announcing her new artwork debuting tonight featuring the red bull driver was all the confirmation we needed that her and the mclaren driver are dunzoooo. what do we think, chat??? user7575 she is GLOWING! good for her. >>>user0209 seriously, i haven't seen her or max look this happy in ages. user3221 i can hear the dishes breaking in lando's apartment from here in london >>>user0202 seriously. imagine losing the championship last year AND THEN YOUR GIRL to max verstappen. WHEEEEW BOY. user1992 this is so messy. i love it.

The light from the gallery spills out onto the sidewalk, casting a golden glow out into the street that guides you and Max towards it’s doors. It doesn’t escape your notice that the last time you walked down this sidewalk at night towards Nessa’s gallery for a show of yours, you were alone and desperately sad. 

Tonight though? Tonight is completely different. Your arm is tucked securely in Max’s elbow as he walks with towards the gallery with you after dropping the car off with the valet. The necklace he’d given you that night sits securely around your throat, an outwardly sign of the budding relationship between you two. As you approach the gallery, you see your brothers waiting for you but this time, all of their significant others are also waiting for you as well. 

Charles is the first one to intercept you, catching you up in a tight hug before whispering how lovely you look tonight in your ear. You’re passed first to Arthur and finally to Lorenzo, who makes a joke about the rock around your neck. Through it all, Max sits back quietly, watching you glow under the attention of your brothers. Jade, Alexandra, and Charlotte all make a fuss over your outfit and paw at the necklace, swooning over how it practically sparkles under the gallery lights. 

When you finally make it into the gallery, there are dozens of people already there. Nessa sees you walk through the door first and pounces on you instantly. 

“My darling!” She coos, wrapping you up in her arms and squeezing you tightly. “You are shimmering with happiness.” She comments, eyes darting to where Max stands behind you, hands tucked neatly into his pockets as he talks with Charles and Arthur. “And I suppose we have that man to thank for that.” 

“Partly.” You agree, but you know it’s more than that. You feel as though you’ve been given a second chance tonight. You were so close to losing everything, to succumbing to everything that Lando had put you through over the last three years that this first night out feels like your first taste of what life should feel like. You knew you had Max to thank for a lot of that, but it also wasn’t lost on you how much you had also fought to be there for yourself. “I’ve done a lot of work on myself the last few months too.” 

Nessa nods, running a protective hand up and down your bare arms. “I know, your art has changed! It feels lighter but also there’s so much more depth to it. I’ve had several inquiries about the one of your man after Brazil.” She says, eyes alright with dollar signs. 

“Unfortunately, that one is already sold.” Max cuts in, slipping his arm around your waist before handing you a glass of red wine. 

You startle, not realizing that you had already sold a piece so early on in the night. “It is?” 

Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. “I came in yesterday afternoon while you were taking a nap and bought it.” 

Your head snaps to Nessa, looking for confirmation. “Paid twice my asking price.” She murmurs, smirk playing at her ruby red lips. Traditionally, she never sold a piece before it was debuted but Max had been persuasive and insisted on locking down the piece without you knowing before hand. 

“Max!” You hiss, bumping a shoulder into his. “I would have just given it to you if you’d asked! I was planning on doing that anyway!” 

Max shrugs, small smile on his face. “I wanted to make sure no one beat me to it. And of course I paid for it! Allow my girl to give her work away for free? Just because I’m the muse doesn’t mean I get special treatment.” 

You’re fairly certain you blush deeper a deep red than the scarlet of your brother’s Ferrari at the praise Max heaps on you. Nessa hides a knowing grin behind her own wine glass before excusing herself to go talk to a client that had just walked in. 

Max and you are left alone in the center of the room and for a moment, the silence that settles over you two is a comforting blanket. It’s not hurried or anxious, the energy between you tonight. It’s a calm, steady thrum of energy that passes easily from Max to you without having to do much more than exchange a glance or quick brush of fingertip against bare skin. You watch your family swirl around the room, each gently checking in on you in their own time as they mingle and you feel yourself relax into the vibe of the evening. 

You’re two glasses in and having a hushed conversation with Jade as Max stands beside you, backs to the door, when a sudden tension snaps through the gallery. On the opposite side of the room, the door at the front of the gallery snaps just a touch too loudly, pulling your attention in that direction. 

The figure that stands just inside the gallery sends your stomach dropping through your toes. 

“Shit.” Beside you, Max’s hand finds yours and he instinctively shifts to put himself between the rest of the gallery and yourself. 

You knew this was going to happen. You had felt it in your bones tonight as you had gotten ready. You knew that Lando would never let you have this. Knew deep down that he’d never let you fully get away from him without having the last word. If there was one thing that Lando couldn’t stand, it was being made a fool of. And you knew that showing up here tonight on Max’s arm, wearing Max’s jewels would set him off. 

You deserved what was coming. 

You try frantically to step around Max, feeling the need to absorb the fire you knew Lando was going to spew everywhere. But Max won’t allow it. Without a single glance in your direction, Max shifts his weight once again and you find yourself even further away from Lando now. Somewhere to your left, you sense Charles and Arthur step in front of you two and you’re certain Lorenzo is around somewhere. 

“Typical LeClerc behavior. Hiding behind others who are more powerful than you in order to save face. Learned from the best, didn’t you baby?” The venom in Lando’s voice sinks it’s claws into your bloodstream, threatening to drag you under. 

Around you, conversations cease instantly, all attention on the scene happening in the corner of the room. 

You weren’t going to let Lando win this though. You were done giving him the power to control you, done dodging the confrontation in an attempt to quietly end things between you. He just wasn’t getting the hint and if he was going to behave like this, then fine. You were fed up. 

Pushing through Max and Charles, you stand in front of your ex-boyfriend, head held high. “Lando, this is neither the time nor the place to do this.” Your voice is deceptively calm, not giving away a bit of the fear that trembles just below the surface. 

Lando sneers, rolling his eyes and then his gaze snags on the necklace at your throat. The navy blue stone catches the light, winking over at him with an antagonizing shimmer. He takes half a step closer and you feel Max shift again, but this time he comes to stand beside you instead of in front of you. 

“Wearing his collar already, huh?” He bites out. A chorus of gasps ripple through the gallery but you just tip your chin up higher, used to his attempts at humiliation. Lando’s gaze shifts to Max beside you and a cruel smile curls at the corner of his mouth. “Tell me, Verstappen. Does she still make that little cooing noise right before she comes? It was always the sweetest little sound, you know the one I’m talking about, right?” 

Humiliation burns through you, hot and bright as Max reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze. Another ripple of disbelief peppers through the crowd but Max barely blinks. “You know, I’ve never heard her make that particular sound.” He pauses and Lando’s face lights up in a brilliant smile, as if he’s won. “Usually, she’s too busy screaming my name when I make her come though so she’s never been one to make quiet little sounds with me.” 

Silence. 

“I always knew you were a cheating whore.” 

A sickening crack rings out in the otherwise silent room as your brother’s fist connects squarely with Lando’s jaw. 

“Charles!” You gasp, hand flying to your throat as you watch Lando stagger back. 

Charles shakes out his hand, received to be able to move all of his fingers. He can’t imagine that call to Maranello going well if he’d had to phone about a broken hand. 

“Keep my sister’s name out of your filthy fucking mouth, you piece of trash.” Charles spits, voice a mask of sheer deathly calm.

Max steps forward, a silent demand for order radiating from the way he stands. “Enough.” His voice is unwaveringly calm as he watches Lando struggle to his feet, clutching at his left eye where a deep blue bruise is already blooming. “Get the fuck out of here before I call the police. I don’t think Zak would be to happy to hear about tonight’s shenanigans or enjoy having to read the media coverage after his star driver gets arrested for harassment.” Max takes half a step towards Lando and you enjoy the way the Brit scrambles away. “If you so much as sneeze in her direction ever again, I will make it my life’s mission to see your entire life ruined, Norris.” Max is practically nose to nose with Lando now, his glare cutting down your ex-boyfriend so he appears about two inches tall. “Are. We. Clear?” 

****

Later that night, Max startles awake, unsurprised to find himself alone in your bed. He knew you were restless tonight. It had taken him nearly twice as long as it usually did for him to pull your body to release underneath him. And after, when you had tumbled head first into sleep, naked beside him, you weren’t settled like you usually were when you slept beside him. 

So no, he wasn’t surprised to find you gone and the bed long cold beside him. 

Pulling on a pair of boxers, Max wanders into your spare bedroom that’s morphed into somewhat of a second studio space. He finds you exactly where he expects you: facing away from him sitting in front of a half finished canvas. You’re bathed in a brilliant blue moonlight, wearing nothing but his white dress shirt from earlier and his necklace you still haven’t removed. 

“Come back to bed, my love.” He murmurs into the crook of your neck as you drop your head onto his, sinking into the warmth of his embrace. 

A soft sound of agreement hums in the back of your throat as you place the brush on the table beside you. Max is a touch surprised with how pliant you are, instantly following his suggestion without much fight but he also knows today took a lot out of you and the thing you sometimes craved was the ability to shut it all off. 

“I wasn’t getting much work done anyway.” You murmur, standing and leaning into his embrace even more. The room is chilly anyway and you find yourself needing Max’s touch more than anything else in that moment. 

You allow Max to tug you out the door towards your bedroom, knowing that he’s able to read you perfectly. He doesn’t rush you though. He lets you linger for a moment in the doorway, your gaze snagging lightly on the painting behind you. It’s a gorgeous landscape that you’re known for, something you haven’t been able to paint in what feels like a lifetime. The moonlight paints silver streaks across the floor, illuminating the painting that you had spent the last hour just starting at. It’s a peaceful scene, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had filled your day. A small, contented sigh escapes your lips and Max squeezes your hand just enough to pull your attention back to him. 

Once back in the bedroom, the chill of the room sends a shiver down your spine. Max, ever attentive, pulls back the covers, gesturing for you to climb in first. He watches as you curl up on your side, tucking your knees up in towards your chest. The white shirt slips off your body, revealing the delicate curve of your spine. He slides in beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. Max reaches out, his hand finding the curve of your hip and gently pulls you closer until your back is flush against his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist, fingers splaying across your stomach. 

You melt into his touch, the warmth of his body radiating through you. His breath is warm against the back of your neck and the steady rhythm of his heart is a soothing lullaby you’ve come to depend on at night. The events of earlier linger in the back of your mind, but here, in Max’s arms they start to feel a little more distant, muffled almost. He kisses the nape of your neck softly, a quiet reminder of his constant presence in your life now, how he’ll never allow you to be alone of face anything by yourself anymore. 

“Better?” He whispers, voice low and rumbling against your bare skin. 

“Mm-hmm” You hum, snuggling deeper into his embrace. You reach down and take his hand that sits on your belly, intertwining your fingers with his. The simple act of holding his hand grounds you, reminding you that you’re not alone anymore. You turn slightly in his arms, just enough to look up at him. His eyes, even in the dim light of the bedroom, are filled with tenderness and understanding. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, your voice thick with emotion. 

Max smiles, a soft, reassuring smile that makes your heart ache in the best way. “For what, liefje?” His Dutch accent is thick now, as it gets when he’s tired and emotional. 

“For everything.” You say, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “For being here. For understanding. For taking care of me.” 

He pulls you closer, his hold tighenying slightly. “Always.” He murmurs against your lips. “Always and forever, my love.” 

And as you drift off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you know that no matter what happens next, you and Max will face it together. This, right here, in his arms, is your happy ending that you’ve been chasing after your entire life. 

Tag list:

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[samkerrworshipper]

young and in love

kyra cooney cross x reader

you and kyra have always been together.. just not together?

probably one of my less structured fics. basically i get stressed when i write fluff. i don’t love how it’s written but cbs rewriting so here we go. might cop some hate for the story line but if you have a issue keep it to yourself xo also aware that this is short(er) for me but i struggle so much with writing fluff. hopefully you guys enjoy <3

warnings: none? that i’m aware of.

You can’t really remember a time when you and Kyra weren’t together. You’ve been a pair for your whole life, from mothers group to kindergarten to school to the Matildas to Sweden and then to North London. It’s a thing, she’s like your third arm and you’re like her third leg. It’s always been that way, you don’t remember a time or day where you haven’t been side by side.

You never really think about it, you’ve never known otherwise. The two of you are one, in every way possible. It’s never been an issue, whenever a new club or contract has always come up you’ve always been a two in one deal, the Australian midfield and forward duo that never fail to tear up whatever opponents you face.

It’s never been defined but there’s an understanding with everybody around you that you and Kyra are simply you and Kyra.

You suppose that Harper is the first person to question it all. In the same innocent way that children seem to.

“Are you and Kywa going to get married like mummy and Klara one day?”

Harper is hanging off your neck, Kobe sitting a few feet away with a duplo block in his mouth. Kyra is in the room next door supposedly making dinner for the kids whilst Kat and Klara are out for their monthly date night.

“What makes you ask that, huh monkey?”

You reach onto your shoulders and pull Harper down, laying her down on the carpet before assaulting her with tickles all over her tummy.

“Mummy says that her and Rara are getting married because they love each other very much and they live together. She says that if people want to be married then they should love each other, you and auntie kyra love each other lots.”

You can’t really argue the toddlers point, she’s right, you and Kyra do love each other a lot.

“And you kiss when you think I’m not looking, and you make fun of each other like mummy and Rara and you wear her clothes.”

You’ve never thought about it in that way, Kyra and you have always just been together, not in any way besides that. It’s simple really, or at least that’s how it feels.

“Well someone’s an observant little girl aren’t they. Would you want me and Kyra to get married?”

The thought has never crossed your mind, not for you and Kyra at least. Although you wouldn’t say no to it either.

“Only if I get to carry the flowers like I am for Rara and mummy and I have to get a pretty dress.”

You think about it for a second, white dresses and suits, flowers, an aisle, all of it. It flashes through your head like a little move and then it stops. You and Kyra aren’t like that, you don’t know what you are but you aren’t that. Or at least you don’t want to get your hopes up about it.

“Oi, munchkins, dinner is served.”

Harper scrambles off of you, as if she hasn’t eaten in three months and bolts into the kitchen, leaving just you and Kobe.

“What do you think Mister, is your sister crazy?”

Kobe just gives you a gummy smile.

“I’m talking to a baby, aren’t I? Maybe I’m the crazy one.”

Your coos at Kobe manage to elicit a giggle from the baby as you swoop him up off the ground and carry him into the dining room.

You place him down in his highchair before trailing into the kitchen, finding Harper hanging onto Kyra’s legs as she tries to plate up their meal.

“It’s not burnt, that’s an improvement.”

Kyra drops her spatula to hit you.

“Hey, not cool. I don’t see you helping with feeding the monsters.”

You smirked and reached down to pick up Harper, bringing her up onto your hip to give Kyra a moment of peace.

“That’s because I take my job as chief monster wrangler very seriously, it’s not for the faint of heart.”

Kyra snorts, picking up the two plates she’s made for the kid and leading out to the dining room.

Dinner goes by fairly well until Kobe throws a dino nugget at Harper and she retaliates by throwing her peas. Kobe’s easy enough to get into bed, two books and a warm bottle of milk and he’s out. Harper is a little bit more of a project with bathtime, three books, half an hour of cuddles and then death gripping you in her sleep. It takes you about ten minutes to pry her from your arms slowly before you’re finally free.

Kyra is already stretched out on the sofa, a premier league game playing on the TV that she looks like she’s hardly paying any attention to.

“How did chief wrangler go about getting the monsters to bed?”

You plop down on top of her, ignoring the way she groans as your body relaxes into hers.

“5 books and a lot of cuddles. It’s hard work being the favourite.”

Kyra reaches around you, her hands finding their place on your stomach and hips.

“I would be the favourite if you were injured less, not my fault that you have more free time then me.”

Kyra’s hands find their space so naturally, it’s from years of practice and muscle memory.

“What can I say, I have a talent for clumsiness.”

You roll over, stomach to stomach with Kyra, eye to eye.

“Trust me I know, it was only last week that you woke me up in the middle of the night cause you hit your head on our bedside table.”

You don’t really have a comeback in response, so you let your eyes float to the TV.

“Harper asked if we were going to get married someday.”

You expect Kyra to laugh, or say something, but instead her body just jolts.

“Funny, right? She was telling me about all the ways we were like Kat and Klara so that should mean we should get married as well.”

Kyra laughs finally, but it’s not in the same way she normally does. It’s kind of choked and stuck in the back of her throat.

“Yeah funny what kids come up with.”

You take your eyes off the TV and back to Kyra’s face, her eyes flash away as soon as yours land on hers.

“I thought about it for a minute, the dresses, our families, on the beach. It was stupid but it would have been nice.”

Kyra laughs again, the exact same way. You try to ignore the way it twists around your throat and makes you feel like it’s harder to breathe.

“Cause we’re just us, and I just love us, you know?”

You know you’ve well and truly fucked up when Kyra nods, still averting your eye contact completely. You don’t want to risk it completely though by going all in, it’s all uncharted territory.

“Yeah, it’s not us.”

You consciously ignore the way that Kyra’s face scrunches up as she says it.

If Harper is the first to question then in typical Meado fashion Beth is second.

It happens in the midst of a team bonding session at Kim’s house, it might be the midst of London winter but for whatever reason the occasion for the day is a barbeque and pizzas. Steph’s on barbeque because everyone agrees that the Australian way is the best way and Lia, Manu and Codi are all in charge of pizzas and everyone else is tasked with a variation of tasks like making drinks and for the most part having fun. It’s one of your first team bonding nights, so you’re yet to have been tasked with a specific role and aren’t quick to give up your spot lounging in Kim’s backyard. For whatever reason Beth has managed to weasel out of her own job to join you and a group of the other girls as you enjoy the very rare occurrence of the sun in the winter months.

Kyra, who should be enjoying it as well, is in a particularly pesty mood and has tasked herself with the job of seeing how much she can get on everybody else's nerves without being screamed at. So far you’ve observed as she’s stuck the clothes pegs from Kim’s washing line to whatever article of clothing or ponytail she can, pull a chair out from underneath three of your teammates and steal Steph’s tongs 6 times only for her to put them back three minutes later once Steph had gone off in search of them. It’s entertaining for you, mostly because you’re the only one who's used to her antics. You’ve seen every prank from the past 23 years of life, you basically have a detector inside of you that goes off when Kyra is plotting something.

You watch, you observe and you laugh a little bit to yourself at the obliviousness of your teammates as Kyra continues her mostly harmless attacks on your teammates.

“It’s disgusting how in love the two of you are.”

You lean over to look at Beth, your eyes still trained on Kyra in your peripherals.

“She’s my best friend, dork.”

You shrug it off like it’s nothing, because it kind of is.

“Your best friend who you sleep in the same bed with, fuck when we win, kiss when you’re drunk, don’t date or look at anybody else and have wrapped around your finger. Sounds totally like best friends, really gay, really in love with each other, best friends.”

You look away from Beth to stop her from seeing your blush, but partly to look back at Kyra.

“Kyra, no.”

Kyra in your lapse of attention has managed to somehow find a watering can and is hovering a few feet behind Vic as she watches the barbeque whilst Steph has gone on her seventh search for her tongs.

In a matter of seconds, possibly milliseconds the watering can is dropped, deserted on a bench beside her as she glares at you as if you’ve wrecked her master plan.

“And you can get her to stop her pranks. You can’t fool me, the two of you are clandestined lovers and I cannot be convinced otherwise.”

Kyra continues to pout at you, completely oblivious to the conversation happening between you and Beth. You pat down on the cushion beside you and Kyra trudges over like a kid who has just been told off even when they know that they’re being naughty. She collapses down next to you, her arms knotting themselves over your shoulders as she does so.

“Meado, why are you smiling at us like that?”

There becomes a common understanding amongst the team that you and Kyra’s dynamic is not quite like anything else. It kind of becomes an unspoken rule that most people don’t talk about it, but there are a few people who take it upon themselves to try and force you and Kyra to take your heads out of your asses and just acknowledge that you are more than the two of you seem to think. There are other people, some of your teammates, who believe it’s easier to let the two of you live. You’re both so happy, it’s so clear to see. People like Steph, Caitlin and Kat are so used to it that they hardly bat an eye at the two of you. At least that’s how it goes for the most part.

Kyra is at Steph’s house for dinner whilst you’re in London for the night at a brand event.

It’s mostly a nice dinner, Beth pops in and out but Viv’s over so for the most part they do their own thing.

Steph makes a great bolognese, life changing almost.

For the most part their conversations revolve solely around football until it somehow lands to you.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get the plus one invite tonight, huh?”

Steph doesn’t miss the way that Kyra’s lips immediately perk up at the mention of you, it’s the same way it’s always been.

“We’re not like that.”

Steph also doesn’t miss the way Kyra’s face scrunches up as she says it.

“But you want to be?”

Kyra bites her tongue, and then her lip. She doesn’t really know what to say to that. Not when you’re so adamant that you two are just that.

“We’re best mates.”

Steph wants to pick up a piece of garlic bread and throw it at Kyra, she really does.

“Best mates who spend every single minute together or on the phone with each other, best mates who can’t sleep without being next to each other, best mates who I’ve seen kiss multiple times, best friends who plan their whole lives around each other. You are not best mates, not in the way that most people are with their best mates. Beth and I are best friends, do you see us kissing and fucking when we feel like it? Do you see us bloody buying houses based on the fact that it accommodates the other person. Do we plan our whole holiday break based on which place is going to make the both of us the happiest? Look Kyra, you’re clearly in love. I’ve never seen a person more whipped in my entire life. You’ve only been like that in the few years that I’ve known you, but the two of you have been doing this your whole lives. You’re going to keep doing it, that’s fine, but it’s also okay to want more. Look, I’m not saying one way is better than the other but it seems like you’re struggling and if you need the sway I’m happy to help.”

Kyra’s whole body tenses, like she’s been caught out on the prank of the century. Except her usual cheekiness is completely gone.

“She likes us how we are. I don’t want to be greedy and end up losing her forever. What we have is good, being just us is enough.”

Kyra pushes her fork around her plate because she doesn’t know what else to do with Steph staring at her.

“You don’t have to settle for enough. I can guarantee that she is just as scared as you to say anything. The both of you will spend your life wondering what if. If you love her, more than she knows then you have to tell her, you will spend the rest of your life regretting it if you don’t.”

Steph thinks she’s watched enough romance movies to know it’s true, it’s always the case of two people being so in love that they don’t know how to tell the other.

“She-She doesn’t want me like that. She always says that we’re just us, every time anybody mentions anything else she always says no. I have enough, asking for anything else would be stupid.”

Steph’s heart throbs at the words, this really is like the rom coms she watches.

“But if the opportunity was there, if she asked, you’d say yes.”

Kyra doesn’t say anything but the twinkle in her eyes tells Steph everything.

“You need to take your head out of your ass and tell Kyra how you feel because she thinks that you don’t want her.”

You’re lying on a physio bed, half awake whilst your calf gets massaged when Leah shakes your whole body. You haven’t even had your coffee yet, you struggle to understand half of the words that leave her mouth.

“Sorry, what?”

Leah sticks her head underneath the table, looking up at you.

“All I’ve heard from Steph all morning is all the plans revolving around somehow getting you and Kyra to realise that you’re in love with each other. Kyra’s worried that you don’t want her that way, you’re a doofus, yadayada. I’m telling you now to pull your finger out and tell her that you liked her more than just being companions or whatever the fuck you are because if I have to hear another second of it I will combust.”

You don’t know whether it’s the decaffeination or how fast Leah is speaking but you still struggle to understand what she’s saying.

“I’m sorry, what are we talking about?”

Leah looks like she wants to hit you.

“You and Kyra and your stupid fucking situationship that nobody understands. Tell her you love her and not in the stupid way you do now but in a I love you and I want you to be my girlfriend even though you already are and get married and spend the rest of my life with you.”

You blink a few times because you don’t really know what to say.

“Okay?”

Leah smiles.

“Glad we have this talk, you have until the end of day or else Steph is locking the two of you in a storage closet until you can work it all out.”

You still feel like you’re in a fever haze by the time you find Kyra. She’s in a recovery room using compression boots when you come in.

“You know I love you right?”

Kyra smirks, lazily like it’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.

“I know, I love you too idiot.”

You ignore the fact that sitting next to Kyra is Vic, Codi and Lessi.

“No, like I love you because you're the person I want to spend my life with, like my girlfriend or partner or whatever. I love you like that, just not as a friend.”

Kyra’s mouth gapes, big and wide and then she clamps it shut.

“O-Okay.”

It’s kind of cute, actually, it’s really cute. It makes you feel bad for having not established this earlier.

“You’re cool with that, life, marriage, kids. All of that, if not maybe tell me now and we can like move out or whatever. Just wanted to let you know that’s how I feel. I’m sure we can talk about it at home, just thought I’d make sure before we get locked in a closet together.”

Kyra nods, her mouth still gaping a bit.

“Yeah, I’m cool with that.”

You smile in the same way you have since you were 6 and the two of you were taking kindergarten photos.

“Good to hear, I’ll see you at training.”

You’re gone before Kyra can ask much more.

Alessia is the first one to speak.

“I’m so confused, please tell me everybody else is confused.”

Everyone else nods, almost the same look on their faces as Kyra.

“Wait-closet? What about a closet?”

[0mg-bird]

Sister’s Mister ~ B. Bradshaw x Seresin Sister Reader

Summary: When Jake’s little sister pays a visit, Bradley gets himself into a sneaky situation where he might want to be the sister’s mister.

Warning: 18+ content ahead, language.

A/n: Very Nickelback coded, argue with the wall.

There was a feeling of uncertainty among the men in the locker room as they showered and cleaned up. Jake left early to pick up a package, that package being his dearest little sister. You.

“He’s bringing her to Payback’s birthday party.” Fanboy states and he pulls a clean shirt on.

The rest groan, asking Payback why he’s allowing it. He just shrugs. “Dude, I felt bad, alright? She’s coming to stay for a month, I don’t want to start off on a bad foot.”

Bob, who was currently pulling his civilian shoes on, shook his head. “Hangman’s enough, what are we gonna do when a second him is going to be hangin’ around?”

They moan about that, all making claims about what you must be like. Things like spoiled, arrogant, and self centered all came up.

Bradley runs his hands through his hair a few times. “Which sister is this anyway? He’s got about five of them.” He asks.

“Big families are common in the south.” Bob reminds.

Coyote is there to answer his question. “I think it’s the one born after him? They’re the closest ones out of the seven kids.”

“Seven!” They all exclaim, cursing with wide eyes.

Bradley shuts his locker. “Six siblings might be the reason Hangman’s a head case.” He claims, making the others laugh.

“Yeah, let’s just hope the sisters not the same way.” Omaha chuckles.

~~

At the airport, you look for the tall head of blonde hair that is your brother. Suitcase rolling along behind you, you pass security and immediately see him.

Jake leans against a pillar, looking rather bored until he sees you approaching. Then, he’s walking to you with a smile.

“I was hoping you’d accidentally board a flight to Mexico instead.” He teases as you hug him.

“Oh c’mon now, don’t act like you haven’t missed me.” You smile, air getting squeezed out of your lungs as his strong arms grip you.

He pulls away and takes your suitcase and backpack. “Hard to miss someone whose face is plastered on magazine issues. But it’s good to see ‘ya, sis.”

The two of you leave to get a bite to eat, then Jake drops you off at the small house you rented.

“We’re going to my buddies birthday party tomorrow night.” He tells you as he checks the place.

You roll your eyes at his effort to make sure no crazy people are hiding behind the curtains, then open up your backpack to unpack some things.

“Which buddy is this?” You question.

“Just someone on my squad.” Jake explains.

You let out a heavy sigh. “Yay, a barbecue in the park.”

Jake glares at your fake enthusiasm. “It’s not a barbecue, and I feel personally victimized by that stereotypical statement.”

“Ooh, Jakey’s using big words.” You fake gasp.

He isn’t amused.

“We’re going to a club, okay? You know all about those, huh?” He teases, making your brows furrow.

“Is that what you think I do all day? Go to clubs with rich people?” You ask, to which he shrugs and nods. You scoff. “I do have an actual job, I just happen to know how to party.”

Jake sits at the kitchen counter. “So do we. Look, it’ll be fun and you can meet the crew.” He says, making you give in.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

He hums. “You never had a choice but I appreciate your cooperation.”

You roll your eyes. “Get out of my house, Seresin.”

~~

“Where’s Hangman?” Phoenix asks as she greets everyone in the parking lot.

They all wait to go inside the club, ready to get drinks down and watch Payback get wasted, but the only problem was they were waiting for the last two to join.

“Fashionably late.” Bradley huffs, checking the time. They agreed to meet at ten, but the minutes continue to tick by.

“Hey, what’s this chick’s name?” Phoenix asks, looking down at her phone with a face of confusion.

They all rattle off names until one clicks.

“Yeah! That’s it.” Coyote agrees, looking at the faces of surprise. “Why?”

She shrugs. “I’m Facebook stalking her.”

Though they want to call her crazy, they huddle around the phone as she scrolls through the profile. Bradley rolls his eyes at the antics.

“You guys are being ridiculous.” He states.

“Holy shit…” Fanboy exclaims.

“She’s gorgeous…like insanely gorgeous.” Payback finishes the thought.

Just as Bradley turns to look, Jake’s truck rolls into a parking spot. Phoenix scrambles to put her phone away, trying to act natural as Jake gets out. He walks around the truck and opens the passenger side door.

Two long legs step out, they all watch with anticipation. The door is shut to reveal you in full.

Long, curled hair, a short black dress. You smile as you approach, it reflects in your blue eyes.

Bradley stands in a daze as you get introduced to everyone. He’s trying to think of a time when he’s seen someone more beautiful than you but he just can’t.

“This is Rooster.” Jake finally gets to him.

Bradley snaps out of it and smiles, shaking your perfectly soft hand.

You let your eyes rise from his shoes, all the way up his jeans and white tank top under his unbuttoned shirt. When they meet his eye, you take in a small breath at the way he gazes at you.

“Hi, Rooster.” You speak with a subtle southern accent, introducing yourself.

Then, you’re pulling away from him, his hand falls back at his side and he sees you turn to Payback.

“Happy birthday.” You say and hand him a small gift bag. “Jake helped me pick it out.”

He reaches into the bag, thanking you and saying that you really didn’t need to get him anything. He takes out a velvet box and opens it to reveal an expensive looking watch. The crew lowly whistles at it.

“Damn…my birthday’s next month by the way.” Coyote tells you, making you laugh.

Inside the club, the group of you gather in the reserved booth with a first round of drinks. Bradley sits directly across from you, watching you intently as you answer different questions.

“What do you do for work?” Phoenix asks, making Jake cut in.

“Stripping.” He says with a serious face, making you slap his arm.

“Stop telling people that.” You scold before looking back at Phoenix. “I model.”

That sparks a roar of interest, the whole time Bradley just watches your movements. Your fingers toy with the skinny straw in your glass as you tell a story about being in a rock music video or of doing an issue for Vogue two months ago. He sees your pouty bottom lip get caught between your pearly teeth when you laugh at something and his mind is flooded with thoughts he cannot speak out loud.

Here he was, worried you’d be a stone cold bitch when he should have been worried that you were gonna make him grip the table to ground himself. All you were doing was sitting there and he was already getting pulled in.

You’re Jake’s sister.

He has to remind himself of that as you are dragged into the swarm of clubbers by Phoenix and Halo.

“So…we’re just going to ignore the fact that she was a bunny?” Coyote mentions, making Jake cringe.

“Hey, asshole, let’s not talk about that when I’m sitting right here. Besides, it was like one issue, and she wasn’t buck naked.” He corrects, chugging his beer at the odd topic this has come to.

“You seen it?” Fanboy cringes.

“Our mom sent it to the family group chat! I was horrified.” Jake gags.

Bradley laughs at his reaction, then shifts his eyes to Coyote who finishes his drink. He sees the smirk he has and knows that there’s gonna be a comment to follow.

“She was hot, dude. I feel a little star struck, actually.” Coyote chuckles.

Jake points an angry finger at his friend. “I love you man, but say anything like that again and I’m putting you through this table. Got it?” He spits.

Bradley looks at his glass.

He better just keep his mouth shut, because if Jake hears the things he’s thinking, he’s as good as dead.

“What do you mean she was a bunny?” Bob questions, defusing the tension. “I thought she was Jake’s sister?”

The guys let out a sigh, Jake races off as it has to be explained to the pilot.

Lights and music pulse and as you dance along, Bradley’s jaw is ticking back and forth. You appear like a phantom, arms up as you laugh with Phoenix.

“I’ll be back.” He tells the guys before heading for the bathroom.

He locks the door behind him and leans on the sink, trying to get himself together. Then, he pulls out his phone and Googles your name.

Hundreds and hundreds of photos appear on the screen, all in which you look sinfully good.

How could he not know of you before? He feels like he’s lived in darkness this whole time.

Bradley splashes water on his face and tells his reflection to get it together. With a deep breath, he goes to the bar, trying to get his head straight.

Things with Jake were finally fine, there was a truce made. The last thing that Bradley needs is to start another war by getting too close to the miniature Seresin.

Leaning on the bar, waiting for the bartender to get to him, he’s suddenly joined.

“You weren’t gonna offer me a drink?” You ask with a playful smile.

He turns his head, looking down at you and he internally curses. Of course you’d find him, life was never easy for him.

“I figured you were a big girl and could get yourself something if you were thirsty.” He states, swallowing hard.

You let out a small chuckle, then wave the bartender over.

“Whatcha’ need sweetheart?” The bartender asks, leaning forward with a wink.

“Vodka with a diet redbull, if you wouldn’t mind.” You order, then turn to Rooster with an expectant look.

“Oh, uh, just whiskey on the rocks.” He mutters.

The bartender gets right on it, leaving the two of you alone once more.

You run a manicured hand through your hair and look up at him. “So, Rooster, you got a real name?” You ask.

He nods, avoiding eye contact. His fingers flex into fists and back out again because you smell like cherry and vanilla, it makes him feel woozy.

You laugh. “Yeah? What is it?”

Blowing out a breath, he tells himself he’s stronger than this and looks to you.

“Bradley.” He says, aching as you hum and try the name out for yourself.

“Bradley. I like that.” You nod, taking your drink as it is given to you.

Your lips wrap around the straw and slowly sip as he drinks his whiskey, focusing on the taste of it washing down his throat.

You watch the veins in his arms and the way his adams apple bobs. He’s the perfect picture of fine, the wheels are turning in your head as you establish that he’s what you want.

“You want to dance with me, Bradley?” You ask as he finishes the drink in silence.

He shoots his brown eyes down at you, but doesn’t answer. Your straw slurps as you reach the bottom of your glass. “It’s a simple question.” You state.

“No.” He shutters.

“No?” You clarify.

“I do but no, I won’t.” He says weakly.

“And why is that?” You question, lips pursing.

The way you squint your eyes makes him want to drop dead. He clears his throat. “You’re off limits, sweetheart. The last thing I need is your brother ripping my head off.”

You smile. “I’m a big girl, I can make my own decisions.”

He turns to fully face you now. “I don’t think that matters to Hangman.”

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, I’m standing here talking to you and he hasn’t come found me. I don’t know about you but to me, that seems like it’s okay for you to continue talking to me.”

You were being extremely difficult.

He sits on the chair behind him, motioning for you to do the same. Slowly, you sit, crossing one leg over the other. Your thumb nail gets caught between your teeth for a moment before he reaches out to pull it away. You lightly gasp at the action, then fold your hands together in your lap. “Wanna talk? Let’s talk.”

The two of you exchange friendly chatter, both very aware of the space shrinking between you. The sound of your voice is addicting, the longer you talk, the longer he adores it. All those silly things they guys assumed about you were entirely false. You were smart and kind, you were actually hilarious.

“You still don’t want to dance with me?” You ask after a breath, your fingers running over his thigh.

He sucks in a breath. “You just want me to be killed, don’t you?”

You look at the mass of people. “If I know one thing, it’s that my brother is probably all over some little blonde right now and way too distracted to worry about me.” You state, moving your fingers now to the back of his hand, slowly tracing shapes on his skin.

“What about the others?” He asks.

You shrug. “There’s a swarm of people, I doubt they’ll notice.”

He fights his inhibitions, then decides he’s aching to feel the silk of your dress under his hands way more than he is scared of getting caught.

Bradley grabs your hand, it’s strong as it guides you off the seat. You smirk to yourself as you follow behind him. He strategically places the two of you in the crowd, the lack of space makes you press yourself to him. Your arms hook around his neck, you feel the warmth of his palms on your lower back.

The different colored lights make the silhouette of you sharp and enticing. Though the two of you start out calm, your movements aren’t subtle. One hand in his hair, the other smooths up his chest. You’re hot, blame it on the people around you but the way he’s looking at you isn’t helping. The size of his hands on you, the way his hair gets messy, it has your knees feeling wobbly.

One movement forward, you’re pressed right against him, giving a delicious contact to the crotch of his jeans. His fingers grip your hips tightly, he leans down to press his lips to your ear. Your eyes widen as the heat of his breath washes down your neck.

“Don’t.” Is the only word he utters.

And you aren’t used to being told no.

You do it again, creating that aching friction as you rub against him. “Why not?” You whisper back.

Bradley shuts his eyes, trying to stay strong in the war he is not winning. “Don’t start something, sweetheart.”

You reach down to grab both his hands and slide them behind you. He grabs your ass instinctively.

“What if I want to?” You ask, anything but innocent.

He pulls away from your ear, shaking his head at you like it’ll change the situation. He’s saying no because it’s the smart thing, but really all he wants to do is slide his hand under your dress.

Your hand braces one side of his neck while you lean to the other. Slowly, like you aren’t sure if he’ll push you off or not, your lips press to his skin.

Bradley wants to curse, the way your tongue tastes the salt on his skin has him grinding you against him on his own accord. You make your way up to his jaw, then pull back. His eyes are entirely dark, you open your mouth to speak but he’s kissing you roughly.

You sigh contently as you start to feel like you’re buzzing on more than just alcohol. It only lasts a few seconds, like he just needed a taste. Bradley pulls away with a huff, you feel like you’re going to fall over.

“Still scared of Jake?” You ask him.

He shakes his head. “This isn’t smart.”

“But you want it.” You say, hand sliding up his chest.

He wants it, fuck he wants it. You can see it in his eyes, that’s why you take his hand and pull him out of the crowd.

In the secluded hallway of the bathrooms, in the low red lighting, you’re grinning as you’re backing him into the wall. You inhale deeply, fighting with his lips as he holds your waist. It’s feverish as you kiss, the way you gently press against his waist has Bradley biting back moans. Suddenly, he’s pushing you back, walking you until you hit the opposite wall.

“Don’t be a tease.” He warns lowly, hand gently squeezing your jaw.

Your smirk is victorious. “I won’t be a tease if you take me back to your place.”

He tightens his grip slightly before swooping down and devouring your lips. His strained jeans rub against you. “That’s what you want?” He asks, pulling away again.

You bite your bottom lip, nodding. “I’m up for anything you want to do, actually.”

His thumb pulls that lip down. He looks at it in awe as he makes his final decision.

“Text your brother, tell him that you called an Uber home.” He says.

“Jake already said he was taking a girl home and sent me the cash for a ride.” You breathe.

It’s all a sudden blur, the way Bradley’s dragging you out to the parking lot, helping you into the passenger seat of his Bronco. He’s definitely breaking traffic laws as he races to his one bedroom house.

He struggles to get the door open as you suck at his neck. Once he does get it open, he’s tugging you inside and slamming it shut.

Down the hall, you’re shredding his layers. His button shirt is thrown over the couch in the living room, his belt lands on the coffee table. As you pull his white tank off, your breath catches.

“Fuck.” Is all you can say, looking at how toned his upper body is. His biceps make you want to wrap your hands around them and squeeze.

Bradley smirks, feeling good about himself. “This is what gets you to shut that mouth of yours?” He asks.

You run your eyes over his abs. “You’re like…insanely hot.”

He grips your waist, then backs you up into the kitchen counter. “Says the one with the million dollar body.”

Your fingers dance over his bare skin. “Art appreciates art.” You shrug before devouring his kiss again.

At this point your lipstick is gone, Bradley wears some of it on his skin like you’ve branded him. His hands brace under your thighs, easily lifting you to sit on the smooth kitchen counter. You sit with a huff, spreading your legs wide enough for him to slot between them. The smooth material of your dress bunches on your hips, giving him a perfect view of the pretty pink thong you wear.

He breathes heavy in excitement, gazing down at the lace like it’s a prize. That’s before he’s tilting your head back and kissing down the column of your throat. You mewl softly at the feeling, how he dances down the tops of your breasts that threaten to spill out of the dress.

Then he’s sinking further down, you watch him slowly lower himself to become eye level with your core. You gasp softly as he grips your thighs and places warm kisses to them. It stimulates you, the way his lips feel. His hot breath fans over your aching center, he’s kissing the lace fabric like he’s praising it before he grips the top of it.

“You still sure you want this?” He checks one last time. “Because I don’t know if I can stop after I start.”

You grow impatient, flexing your hips to move your heat closer to him. “Bradley, I don’t want you to stop.”

That was enough for him to yank the panties down your legs, letting them hang on one ankle. He keeps your heels on, enjoying the way they press against his upper back as your legs drape over his shoulders.

His tongue comes to run up your center, you take in a sharp breath. He tastes your arousal, immediately becoming intoxicated off of it. Fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs, he keeps you spread open for him as he dives in, eating you out in a way you haven’t experienced before.

Your head falls back, hand wringing in his hair, holding him close to you. A moan tumbles free from your throat. “Oh fuck, you’re good at this. Fuck! Like that.”

He can’t help but grin wildly, stimulating your erected clit before stretching two fingers inside of you. Your hips buck at the feeling, you’re humming out, panting at the feeling. He eats it so good, you don’t even think to muffle the sounds you make.

“Ah, Bradley.” You breathe, making his cock twitch in his jeans.

“You like it, pretty girl?” He vibrates against you, making you cry out.

His eyes lift to look up at you writhe. You’re perfect, open mouthed and grinding against his tongue, reacting when he curls his fingers.

“Yes.” You encourage.

The sound is wet and lewd as he sucks on your sensitive skin, your eyes widen as you feel your finish coming on.

“Rooster, I’m close.” You whine slightly, it only makes him focus more and get you closer.

“You want to cum? Do it, finish for me.” He encourages.

Your chest heaves, you tighten your grip in his hair as you clench around his fingers. You curse loudly, feeling the orgasm build and build until you finally snap. You shudder, your thighs clench around Bradley’s head as you feel the wave wash over you. He’s there through it, cleaning you up with his tongue, sucking his fingers clean.

You lick his lips, tasting yourself on him before kissing him.

“Come on, pretty girl.” He coos, helping you off the counter, chuckling at your uneasy legs as he guides you to his bedroom.

The door is clicked shut behind you and Bradley’s pulling you against him, cradling your face in his hands as he clashes his tongue with yours. His pants are pushed off by your greedy hands, then he’s watching you crawl onto his perfectly made bed. Your eyelashes fan perfectly as you stare at him, slowly pulling your dress off and dropping it to the floor.

Fuck.

You’re perfect.

Sitting pretty for him, he lets his eyes roam over your perfect skin, how great you look in his bed.

He’s in trouble.

Your leg extends out, lifting your foot up expectantly. With a pleased smile, he comes forward to the foot of the bed, unbuckling the heel, then the other. He tosses them carelessly behind him, they hit the floor with a clatter.

“Those are expensive.” You warn as he tugs at your ankles, making you gasp and fall onto your back.

“Yeah? I’m sure you have five more pairs just like them.” He states, crawling up the bed to hover over you.

Slowly, the two of you share the same air. You lay, looking up at him. “Come on, Bradley, I won’t tell if you won’t.” You tease.

He could devour you.

“You do this often? Target your brother’s friends?” He jokes back.

Your nails run down his scalp. “I can’t stand my brother’s friends. You on the other hand, you’re different.”

Tongue in your mouth, he’s moaning, sitting up to pull open his nightstand drawer. The foil of the condom is cool in his fingers, he pulls back to sit on his knees as you sit up. You pull his boxer briefs down his toned legs, breathing heavy as his full erection is freed. It aches against his stomach, the tip dripping with precum. You swipe your thumb over it, making him groan.

Completely infatuated, you pump your hand over his length as he rips open the condom package.

“I’ll cum if you keep doing that.” He grunts out, pulling your hand away so he can roll the rubber on. “Get on your stomach.”

The direct tone of his voice has you a mess between your legs, you roll over, legs spread, yelping in surprise as he tugs your hips, positioning your ass in the air.

“Is this okay?” He asks, warmly rubbing your back.

Hair falls in your eyes, he moves it away. You look back at him and nod. “It’s more than okay.”

His dark eyes gleam, then he’s positioning himself at your entrance. You feel the tip of him run down your folds, nudging your clit, making you mewl lowly and grab the pillow.

He pushes halfway in before you gasp, he slowly enters your walls to make sure you’re relaxed enough for him. The pressure his size gives you has you breathing hard already.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart.” He says lowly, letting his head fall back as he finally bottoms out.

Adjusting, you can feel how good he fills you. “Oh god.” You pant, squeezing your eyes shut as he slowly pulls back and pushes into you again.

“You sound so perfect.” Bradley says, slack jawed.

He kneads your ass, gripping it as he sets a pace. The way you lay out on front of him, arched back and taking him so good, he wants to cum inside of you in that moment.

“Mm, like that.” You guid. “You’re so fucking deep.”

Hearing those dirty words from your perfect lips, his vision threatens to go blurry.

“Yeah? Is this what you wanted the whole night, my cock buried inside you. Fuck, you’re so tight, it’s amazing.” He says through gritted teeth.

Pulling your hips, he fucks you back into him. As you meet his thrusts, broken sounds are coming from your throat.

You’re picture perfect, he’s going to be getting off to this image for weeks.

Mind completely cloudy, you mutter your words, they slur together. His fingers snake down to rub your clit and it has you choking on a sob, burying your face into the pillow at the build up inside of you.

“There you go, baby.” He breathes, picking up his pace. His hand stretches to gently tangle in your hair, his thrusts are hard, jolting you.

His name is muffled as you chant it, warning him that you’re oh-so close. You can’t even turn your head to look back at him, you just lean your head back and cry out as you clench around him.

“Holy shit- I’m almost there, hang on.” He grunts, edging himself closer and closer.

Your body shakes. “Bradley.” You whimper out, then you’re coming all over him.

The shout of him is what makes him push fully inside of you one last time and release. He bucks against you, riding his high out.

You’re collapsed onto the mattress now as he pulls out of you, mouth open as you pant, face and hair a mess.

“Holy fuck…” He runs a hand over his face, moving to lean back against his headboard.

He looks down at you, thinking you’re utterly spent. His gentle hands pull you up to him, slowly kissing you, trying to comb your hair down.

You learn how affectionate he can be. Especially after another round, where you’re watching him fuck up into you as you ride him, and genuine tiredness overcomes the two of you. You both clean up, then you try to decide what your next move is.

Hookups weren’t something you were too familiar with, you’ve only ever slept with your previous boyfriends.

Were you supposed to go back to your house? Did he expect you to leave?

The answer is decided when he shifts to his worn side of the bed.

“Come back to bed.” He says, watching you stand in the doorway, looking at your shoes.

Your eyes lift back up to him and his heart stops for a moment, you’re wearing a genuine grin.

Tangled in his sheets, not bothering to get dressed, the two of you talk until you eventually are lulled to sleep. You tried to fight it, but he’s so warm as he holds you, his voice is such a perfect tone, he’s rubbing your head and doing everything a hookup doesn’t do.

He’s well aware of this.

And when you’re snoozing peacefully, tucked against his chest, he curses and looks up at the ceiling.

He was already in too deep.

Part 2 here

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Till Death Do Us Part (I)

Part 13 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series!

Warnings: Angst, anxiety, family issues, smut, oral (f), bruises and pain.

Billy wakes before you, with a feeling in his chest that something is terribly wrong.

He sits up, the sheets pooling at his hips, remnants of his bad dreams chasing him into awareness.

His body aches as he turns to find you, his eyes tracing the lumpy silhouette of your body under the sheets, finding you in the dim light.

You're breathing, he lets out a sigh of relief, reaching out to smooth a hand through your hair, listening to your little hum of appreciation, responding to his touch, even when you're still asleep.

His chest squeezes. It's a good feeling, a reminder that you're here and you're with him. He lets out a slow breath, falling softly into the space beside you, reaching out to link your fingers with his.

It's love, that warm feeling in his chest. He smiles to himself, feels the emotion bubble inside of him. He thinks that he would trade everything he has in this world to lie beside you like this forever.

He feels the darkness fill his head when he remembers what losing you felt like. When Billy had found out you'd been taken last night- he'd become something so sinister.

The memory intrudes itself into his head, the reminder of what he'd done to the man that had hit you. It hadn't been enough, and yet maybe it had been too much. 

A little snore catches his attention, distracting him from his dark thoughts. He grins as he hears you murmur something unintelligible in your sleep.

When you stir, he closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep, feels the bed shift as you crawl closer to him, sighing happily as you tuck your head into his chest. He wraps his arms around you, and doesn't remember falling asleep.

.

He's a little disoriented, when the sound of his phone vibrating wakes him.

He peeks one eye open, raising his head, carefully reaching over your sleeping form, curled against him to pick up the noisy device, seeing that it's the front desk calling.

“Russo.” He says, his voice sounding raspier than he wants it to be, the woman's reply on the other side is shaky.

“Good morning Mister Russo, my apologies for the call, there are two women here demanding to see Mrs. Russo. They say they're her family.”

He's fully awake in an instant.

He turns to look at you, wants to wake you in his panic, but hesitates when he sees how peaceful you look.

“Send them up.” Billy answers, ending the call, and carefully extracting himself from your body.

He's not a man that usually panics, but he does take a few moments to do so while he grabs a shirt from his closet. This was your family, that probably hated him, and Billy wasn't someone particularly good with families.

He stops, turns to look at you while you sleep, sucks in a deep breath to remind himself that this is worth it, for you. He's not going to hide or avoid this situation no matter how uncomfortable or tense it gets.

He barely has time to do a quick brush of his teeth, before there's a knock at the door.

He straightens his shoulders, allows his confident disposition to settle into place before approaching the door.

He opens the door, wonders if he should attempt a polite smile, but doesn't really feel like it. 

There's a tension in the air, between the two women in front of him, he can see little resemblances between the three of you that make you blood.

“Morning,” he greets amicably, opening the door wider, a silent invitation.

The younger of the pair, who Billy automatically assumes is your sister, steps forward.

“Hey, Billy right?” She says with an apologetic smile, “I'm Emma.”

He inclines his head.

“Nice to meet you both, please, come in.”

They accept his invitation easily, closing the door as they step in.

“She's still asleep right now,” he says to their unasked question, “Would you like some tea, or coffee?”

Emma studies him for a moment.

“We want to see her.” 

He blinks, nods in understanding.

“I would prefer not to wake her. She's been through so much.”

It's the wrong thing to say.

“Do you have any idea what I've been through in the last eight hours?!” Your mother outbursts.

“For starters, she gets married to a random stranger and I never meet him. You could literally be brainwashing her without anyone even batting an eye!”

Billy swallows, watching your mother come towards him with a finger raised. He glances at Emma for help and all she offers is a smile of apology, a silent signal to let the anger run its course.

“-we barely see each other, she barely talks to me and then I hear she gets kidnapped!-”

“-You're going viral by the way.” Emma supplies unhelpfully.

“-my own daughter and all I hear is that she's been rescued, with no idea of the state she's in- and now you refuse to let me see her?”

He sucks in a deep breath.

“I'm not refusing, I just want her to get some rest.”

Finally, Emma decides to take pity on him.

“Mom, it's okay, we can wait a little. He's not saying no.”

It makes your mother clench her jaw shut, her mouth in a thin line as she studies Billy, who feels very much like an ant under a magnifying glass in the sun.

He can feel the anger in her eyes, directed at him, and he knows a bone chilling comment is going to leave her mouth next.

Before she can get the words out, he hears a small voice.

“Mom?”

Both women in front of him turn to look at you, and Billy closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, feels despair pool in his chest at the fact that the noise must have woken you.

His fists curl as both women rush to embrace you, and he watches as you smile, reassuring them that you were okay.

As fast as his anger comes, it vanishes when you step toward him next.

He's a little unsure about how to act with all the extra eyes on him, studying your face, the sleepy glaze still in your eyes, dressed in his t-shirt with your hair askew, a soft greenish bruise on the highest point of your cheek. 

“Good morning, husband.” You whisper, hands wrapping around his arm, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

His stomach flutters.

He can't resist, hand slipping behind your neck, tilting your head to allow his lips to meet yours in a quick moment, feels sparks where you touch him.

If you were alone, he would scoop you up and take you back to bed, stroke your hair softly till you fell asleep in his arms with the feeling of his heart pounding just a little too hard in his chest.

 Where you'd been giving reassurance before, you were seeking it right now in his arms.

“How are you feeling?” Billy asks after he breaks the kiss.

Your eyes are so glassy, tired, he wishes you'd gotten more sleep, but he knows there's no way you'd agree to that now.

“Hurts.” You whisper.

“I can call a doctor.” He offers.

He watches you look down in thought, before nodding, glancing up at him.

You turn back to your mom and sister, smiling.

“I'm glad to see you guys, but what are you doing here?”

Emma answers you.

“We've been calling for hours, since we heard what happened.”

You glance at Billy, wanting to ask him if he'd seen your phone, but you decide not to.

“Uhh, yeah sorry, I must have lost it at some point, sorry, I didn’t realise how big all of this was.”

Honestly, you hadn’t even thought about how this might have affected the people around you, you'd been so absorbed in yourself.

“It's understandable,” Billy murmurs beside you, his dark eyes are earnest, “You've been through a lot.” 

You nod, looking back at your mom, catching her observing Billy with a suspicious eye, suddenly reminding you that she knows more than she's supposed to and you have divorce papers hidden in this apartment because of that.

“I’m all right, just a little tossed around… like a… salad.” You frown, trying to figure out why your thinking wasn’t as sharp.

“Yeah,” Emma interjects, “They got security footage of the kidnapping.”

You feel unease rise in your throat.

“What?” You ask softly.

She pulls her phone up, unlocking it and holding it out to you. It’s a news report, a woman describing the details of your abduction while you watch grainy footage of yourself being tossed into the trunk of the car. 

The video scrolls automatically when it's finished, and you hear the same voice inform that you’ve been found safe, this time, there’s pictures of you and Billy on the red carpet from earlier that night.

You dare to peek at the likes, seeing the number high into the millions and climbing.

“What the hell is going on.” You mutter softly as you take her phone and tap on the tags.

Dread sinks into your stomach, watching related videos of you and Billy, videos of you on the red carpet, the way you turn to look at each other, viewed by way too many people.

You give Emma back her phone, lost in a daze. If anyone were to dig deeper, who knows what they might find out. You can almost see the smear campaign brewing from a mile away.

You turn to Billy in fear.

“Dominic. If he talks-”

Billy’s hand squeezes your elbow reassuringly.

“He won’t. Don’t worry, it’ll blow over in a week.”

“But my old friends,” You protest, “If they confirm anything…”

“It’s alright. I’ll handle it.”

But you didn’t know exactly what that meant, and instead of inspiring ease, it only reminds you of the four men from last night who were no doubt rotting somewhere.

Your brain was being irrational, you knew that, you just couldn’t convince yourself of it.

You suck in a breath, turning to Billy for comfort but deciding against it, moving instead to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

You didn’t know what was going on with you, if it was the presence of your mother and sister clouding your thoughts, preventing you from seeking comfort in the man living with you. Or if it was actual rational sense finally making its way into your body, highlighting the absurdity of him willing to go that far for you.

You groan when you slide into the stool at the counter, hip throbbing. 

Billy is beside you in an instant.

“Doctor should be here in a few minutes. Are you hungry? I can have something brought up.”

You swallow, nodding, glancing around him to look at your mom and sister.

“Are you guys hungry?” You offer.

.

It's a little difficult to keep up with the conversation, listening to both women explain how they found out what had happened, and the lengthy task of finding their way here.

You sip on the ginger tea Billy made for you while you wait for the doctor to arrive, your husband having excused himself a few minutes ago to make some calls.

You recount the events of last night to them, trying not to remember the fear and anxiety, focusing only on the details, the things you saw and heard, rather than the tightness of the space in the trunk, and the pain of being roughly manhandled.

They ask questions you can’t answer. How did Billy find you so quickly? What happened to the men? You only shake your head and explain that you hadn’t had time to ask.

When Billy comes back, he's got the doctor beside him, a woman, smiling easily at everyone.

She checks you out in your office, Billy waiting right outside while she presses your bruises to examine them. You try to be still, but when she touches your tender hip, you can barely stand the pain.

You ask her softly to get your husband, and when his face enters your vision, you smile at him. He takes your hand in his, and lets you squeeze however hard you want when the doctor continues her examination with your permission.

Tears pool in your eyes, but it's over quickly, her consult ending with a shot of painkiller which begins to work by the time she leaves. 

The T.V is on when you step into the living room, at first you think it’s something random, until you see footage of outside  your apartment building. You watch in horror as they replay a video of the doctor entering the building, and then another video of maybe a minute ago when she left.

You turn away from the screen when you see the replay of the security footage from last night appear, the broadcaster's clear and articulate voice talking over the video of you being tossed into the trunk of the car is too loud to ignore.

Had the world gone insane? What was happening right now? Were there actually people camped outside your home?

You catch sight of Billy, stepping into the hallway after making more calls. You look at him until he feels your gaze and glances up at you.

He can see your discomfort, you know he can, his eyebrows pinch as he approaches.

“What is it?” He asks.

“There are people outside our apartment taking pictures.” You say.

He blinks, ducks his head into the room to glance at the TV. You hear him release a breath of frustration.

“I didn't want you to find out.”

“Yeah, I would have rathered not knowing.” You agree.

“What can I do?” He asks suddenly, his hands cupping your arms gently, rubbing them up and down to soothe you.

“I'm already handling the paparazzi, but if you want to be alone, I don’t mind risking more hate to get your mom and sister out.” He finishes his sentence on a whisper.

It makes you smile, the idea of such a showdown.

“I wish we were back in that castle.” You say softly, “before all of this, when it was just you and me.”

Billy lets out a breath, pulls you into him until your face is pressed squarely to his chest.

“I promise, it'll all be okay. This will blow over, and we can go wherever you want.”

“You know,” You say suddenly, deep in thought, “I don't remember everything about that night in Vegas.”

He seems to hesitate, probably surprised at the sharp turn of the conversation.

“Really?” He asks.

You hum the affirmative.

“I remember meeting you, and then we had a few drinks together, and then we left I guess? I don't remember anything until after, when we're heading up to your room.”

“Oh.”

“I keep wondering what you could have possibly said to me to convince me to go along with it. What state of mind could I have been in?”

“Maybe we can talk about this later.” 

“Yeah.” You agree in a sad tone, withdrawing from his embrace.

He cups your face suddenly, avoiding your bruise but making sure your eyes are on his.

“Where is this coming from?” Billy asks, his eyes so dark you can't see his pupil.

“I don't know,” You lie, “I guess I've just been thinking about it a lot because I don't know how to answer if someone asks.”

You can hear the pain in his breath when he exhales next.

“Something’s wrong, isn't it? You've been- even before last night- you can talk to me.”

You nod in understanding, turning away when you hear the TV click off. You reach to pry Billy's palms off your face, turning to step into the living room.

“Later.” You say to him, hopefully reassuring him that it wasn't so detrimental.

Though, maybe it was more serious than even you knew.

.

You let out a frustrated sigh, as once again, your mother asks a question that you can't answer.

How on earth were you supposed to know why you'd been taken?

“They could have picked anyone there,” your mother tries to explain, “Why you?”

You contemplate if your life before had been filled with such invasive questions, or if this was a recent development.

“I told them my name,” you respond, thinking out loud, “Maybe that's why?” 

You swallow, looking around for Billy, who'd excused himself a minute ago to answer a call. It was funny that she didn't ask these questions when he was around.

Or maybe not funny at all.

You meet her eyes, holding a thought that she doesn't want to say.

What was she thinking? That Billy had coordinated the kidnapping? Why? To make you trust him more?

A sharp pain sears into your chest, forcing you to break her gaze.

That couldn't be what she was thinking- what kind of person would do something like that?

“This robbery really makes no sense,” Emma inputs, replaying footage of the robbery on her phone, “I mean, these pieces they stole- are too unique to be resold without being traced. Why take such a big risk for these?”

You don't realise you're struggling to breathe until your head goes light.

For all your mother's astute observations, she doesn't notice your panic.

You stand, your body trembling, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

In the hallway, you suck in a shaky breath, covering your ears and closing your eyes shut.

The memory of the night comes back, the fear, the pain. Billy wouldn't put you through all of that on purpose.

Right?

It wouldn't be hard for someone like Billy to do. He could have hired these men to fake the robbery so that they could kidnap you, scare you just enough so that when Billy finally rescues you, there's an undeniable bond there that can't be broken so easily. 

You didn't see the men die, for all you know they could still be alive, sipping margaritas on a tropical island just as planned.

Angry now, you storm into your office, your hands scraping against the wood of your drawer as you shove your hand in to reach for that dreaded manilla folder.

You don't think about anything until you've got your signature printed on those divorce papers.

It's terrifying to look at. The very thought of it, of being without the man that makes you feel so happy. The man that holds you and loves you and would kiss every single inch of you if you only gave him the chance.

This man wouldn't hurt you.

Which is probably exactly what he wants you to think.

Heartbroken, you drop the papers into the top drawer, sliding it shut, leaving the office in search of him.

Your mind was so scattered, and your heart was fragmenting, and you needed the very man you were supposed to hate.

You find him in his office, sitting at his desk, talking into his cell. He glances up at you when you darken his doorway.

He sees something in you that makes him let out a sigh, raising a hand to silently signal you to come closer.

Your chest is tight as you approach him, pressing the door shut behind you and snapping the lock. You didn't want anyone stumbling onto you.

He's in a black t-shirt and grey sweats, and he looks adorably delicious the longer your gaze at him, the reassurance you seek taking on a different form.

He's still talking into the phone, but his eyes swallow you up when you reach to push the waistband of your shorts down your legs. He swallows, adjusting himself in his seat, his fingers twitching eagerly at the sight of you.

You let out a soft sigh, smiling at him as you slide into his lap.

Pressing your face to his chest, you take a deep breath, appreciating the smell of him, letting his presence both soothe and excite you.

He makes a soft humming noise, his fingers brushing the base of your spine and working his hand up to the back of your neck.

It spreads tingles all over your body, and you smile into his neck at the easy sensation.

That's what this was. Easy. 

The beating of your heart, the air filling your lungs, you close your eyes and sink into him, enjoying the sound of his voice as he talks to someone about non disclosure agreements.

Why you? You hear your mother's voice interject into your head.

You let out a frustrated breath, trying to push away the memory.

Billy's hand tightens on the back of your neck. You shift your hips and blink in surprise when you feel his stiff erection below you.

You raise your head for an explanation.

He gives you an apologetic smirk, and a lift of his eyebrows, as if to say, what did you expect?

And really, what had you expected? That your husband, a man so obsessed with you that he essentially stalked you for years, would suddenly not want you? 

It excites you, your heart beating faster as you feel arousal pool in your abdomen.

You reach down, hand snaking between your bodies, till your fingers wrap around his stiff member over his sweatpants.

His chest deflates harshly, his head tilts back, he eyes you as you begin rubbing your palm against his length.

You take your time admiring his size, hidden beneath his clothes you marvel at the fact that he fits into you.

In the depths of your head, you can't help comparing him to the inadequacies of past lovers. Billy was definitely above average in many aspects.

His mouth drops open in your peripherals when you tug on the waistband of his sweats, reaching in to touch him directly.

His throat bobs as your fingers curl around his length, hissing through his teeth when your thumb swipes over his tip.

You think about leaving him, and the consequences of that. The very idea that he might move on from you hurts, that he could find someone else to give himself to makes your throat tighten sadly.

His cock is warm in your hand, and you shimmy his sweats lower so that you can see him, his length rising up when released, a bead of precum forming at his slit.

You lick your lips, tempted to taste him, to feel his warm comfort on your tongue and know that you’ll never find another quite like him.

You give him a few strokes, wondering if you were ready enough to take him.

“Let me put you on hold for a second,” he says into his phone, “I just have something quick to handle.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before you watch him press the hold button.

“That your lawyer?” You ask conversationally as you stroke him.

“Ours. What are you doing, sweetheart?” 

“I missed you.” You say with a pout.

Billy gives you a small smile.

“And is your plan to tease me to death?”

You let out a little giggle.

“Noo, my plan is to ride you quietly.” 

He closes his eyes and gives a little laugh of disbelief.

“Alright then, little wife. I don’t want to hear you make a single sound or you’ll be in big trouble. Understand?”

You nod eagerly.

“Yes, sir.”

He groans, before lifting the phone back to his ear.

“Go ahead.” He says into the phone, looking right at you.

If you weren’t wet enough before, you sure are now, tugging your panties to the side, lifting your hips so that his cock head slips between your folds.

You shudder as his tip glides over your clit, and you take a few moments to use him to stimulate your aching bud, before pressing him against your entrance.

He’s big, stretching you open, you gasp as you manage to fit the tip of his cock into your aching cunt.

Billy tips his head back, lips parted as he tries to keep his breathing soft and deep. You gulp, pressing lower, fighting your body’s resistance, rocking slowly on his cock to encourage your body into accepting him.

He feels so good, you try not to clench around him prematurely, wanting him to feel you fully before you begin really tormenting him.

You grip his shirt tightly, and he does the same to your ass, the possessive handful he has of you makes your brain hum happily.

That’s it, little wife, your brain supplies his voice, just like that.

You exhale, moving slowly, lifting your body, to bring yourself back down on his cock.

His lashes flutter, his eyes locked on your wanton form. He releases his grip on your ass to press his fingers to your clit softly. 

You gasp, a little louder than expected, his fingers moving dexterously over your aching bundle as you shiver with delight, catching your arousal on his fingers before sucking them into his mouth.

He doesn’t do it for long, before pressing his fingers right back to your clit.

The compulsion to remain quiet makes it that much hotter, though you find yourself missing his breathy moans of bliss.

He traps your clit between his middle and ring fingers, gliding back and forth to draw sweet gasps of pleasure out of you.

You reach up, under your shirt to grip your breast, your thighs beginning to burn with your gentle bouncing on his cock.

You tip your head back, eyes closing in bliss as you continue to rock eagerly on him, enjoying the way he fills you, the way he glides along the deepest parts of you, feeling you from the inside.

When you’re fully seated on him, you clench eagerly, feeling his size fully against your inner walls. You bite the edge of your lip as euphoria lights up your brain, originating from your aching center.

He pulls the phone from his ear, mouth open in a silent groan, eyes rolling back in his head.

You grin between breaths, watching him struggle to get some of his senses back, he lifts his head to look at you with determined eyes.

“Nelson,” He says into the phone, “Let me call you back in an hour.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before handing up.

“Are you satisfied, sweetheart?” Billy whispers, his iron grip on your waist, sliding under your rear to support the lifting and dropping of your hips.

“Ah, god, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me,” he rambles, “my perfect fucking wife.”

“Shhh,” You hiss, leaning in to place a warm kiss on his lips, “We have to be quiet.”

He lets out a grunt of dissatisfaction. 

“ ‘S not fair- to only be able to have a little of you- I need it all.” He reaches up to pull your shirt off, getting you completely naked while he remains clothed.

He kisses your chest softly, and you struggle to remain quiet.

“I need all of you,” He hums into your skin, “Your touch, your taste-” He licks into your mouth eagerly.

“The sound of your moans on my tongue- I need it.”

You suck in a shaky breath, raising a hand to cup his face, pressing your thumb against his lips.

“You need… to be quiet.” You scold softly.

“I love you,” He gasps, “I fucking love you.”

Your hand drops from his mouth to grip his shoulder, getting leverage to ride his cock faster, the soft slapping of your skin filling the room as you’re filled too.

You nod your head in agreement, pressing your mouth to his, breathing in his air, enjoying the feel of his beard against your chin.

You press your head into his neck, biting down on the deliciously corded muscle of his shoulder as you feel your cunt tremble around him.

“Yes,” he urges on a whisper, “I need to feel you come around me, wife.”

His last word pushes you over the edge, fingers digging into the chair as you lose logical thought, feeling it be replaced with mindless pleasure, gripping his cock so tightly that you’re almost unsure if you’ll be able to let him go.

You tremble, the pleasure slamming into you in waves, his soft groans in your ear are perfectly timed with the quivering of your cunt.

You don’t know how he does it, but he pulls you off of him gently, placing you on wobbly legs for a moment before turning you around to bend over his desk.

You tremble when you feel his tongue, tasting your still fluttering cunt for a moment, the slippery appendage finding your pulsing clit with ease.

You slap a hand over your mouth when he licks you just right, eyes rolling back, hips moving restlessly in delight.

He moans into your cunt, and you don’t have the heart to remind him to be quiet, the feeling of his tongue on your aching center is almost too much to withstand.

He stops, and then you feel his cock at your entrance once more, slipping into you, deeper than before, pressing almost painfully to your deepest spots.

It’s where he belongs, you think, biting down on your index finger as he withdraws to fill you roughly, a low moan leaving his mouth on each breath.

“Mine.” He grunts roughly, “All mine.”

You feel inclined to agree with him.

He pounds into you repeatedly, and you lie there and happily take every inch of him until his hips stutter and he groans, spilling into you so deliciously that you find yourself coming too from just the sensation of his release.

It’s almost like you’re made for him, your mind gives a wistful thought, and you smile as he turns you, pulling you back into his lap, both your legs draped over the arm of his chair this time.

He smiles at you, his lips are pink, and bitten and his cheeks are rosy and you smile back, his hand raising to smooth your wild hair out of your face.

You can feel his cum, slipping out of you, getting you messy in an uncomfortable way, but the pleasure is still moving through you, and you can’t think about cleaning yourself up right now.

He rotates the chair, so that he can reach the top drawer on the left side of the table without moving you, pulling out a fluffy white square of cloth.

You watch curiously as he parts your legs gently, swiping the soft cloth between your thighs to clean you up. 

It’s such a mundane thing, nothing really special about it. Except that the cloth is so soft you can barely feel it on your oversensitive parts.

Something twists in your stomach, a realisation that you must have had a hundred times before.

That you loved him, not just because of the big things he did, but also because of the little ones, the unnoticed things that no one but you could see.

Telling him you loved him wasn’t enough, you needed to stitch your souls together with the very threads of the universe so that he understood that you would never abandon him, that you would never give up on him.

That you could search for lifetimes and never find someone like him.

You relax against his chest, the words too heavy in your throat to be spoken out loud. Their anchor, lying in the top drawer of your office desk.

.

Billy can feel your mother’s eyes on the back of his head.

He’s handled people trying to rip him to shreds that have unsettled him less than this woman.

He's trying to be cordial, asking them politely about possible dinner plans, willing to be as nice to his in laws as possible, but he can sense your mother's disapproval of him, as if there's another presence in the room.

You decide on ordering from an Indian restaurant, before you step away to shower. You kiss him on the cheek before you leave, and he feels his stomach flutter at the reminder that his cum was probably still dripping out of you.

“So Billy,” you mother calls out as you leave, and he feels the flutters dry up as fast as they came, “Do you have guns here?”

He tries not to stiffen in defense, turning to face her with a calm expression.

“Yes.” he answers honestly.

You look so much like your mother, he can see where you get your eyes from, though yours have never regarded him with such suspicion.

“How many guns?” She presses.

“In the apartment? Or in the building?” 

She definitely doesn't like that question, her face giving an uncomfortable twitch that would make him laugh in any other scenario.

“The apartment.” She clarifies.

He thinks for a moment about the armory hidden in the closet.

“Around… ten,” He answers, recounting, “Maybe fifteen.”

Emma hums in thought, grabbing plates to set the table, and Billy asks her to grab two extra plates for Frank and Maria, a little surprise for you.

“How many people have you killed?” She asks next, and Billy watches Emma pause to give her mother a look of warning.

“Um… Keep in mind that most of these are from my time in the Marines…but uh… three? Yeah, three hundred.”

Emma makes a sound of disbelief, but Billy squares his shoulders, unashamed at the things he's had to do to keep himself and his people safe.

“Those men that kidnapped her,” your mother follows up, tilting her head in the direction of the door you left through, “Did you kill them too?”

Billy sucks in a deep breath, feeling his interrogation training kick in.

“You a cop?” He teases.

“Did you kill them to cover up your scheme?” She presses.

He tilts his head, doesn't understand what she means.

“What scheme?” 

Emma exhales loudly, grabbing Billy’s attention. He turns his head to observe her, trying to figure out what exactly they were thinking.

“Drop it, mom, please.” Emma says.

It takes Billy a moment to fit the poorly made pieces together. Did they think that he’d had you kidnapped on purpose? Why would they think he would do that? Unless-

The very thought of it made him sick to his stomach. That he would ever hurt you like that. That he was even capable.

They must know, Billy realises, you must have told them.

He feels something dark fill him, acidic, burning a hole through his stomach and poisoning his heart.

It takes him a moment to hear the knock on the door.

Moving on autopilot, he excuses himself to get it.

Is it betrayal that he feels? He can’t tell, nothing is confirmed and his chest doesn’t understand what his brain is trying to tell him. If your family knew, were they making plans on your behalf? He knew you hadn’t contacted a lawyer, but what if they had, for you?

The worst thought of all was that he’d driven you to this. That you’d really felt so trapped, so caged that you couldn’t even bring yourself to mention it to him. It makes him hate himself, that maybe he really was the monster everyone saw him as.

He hopes it doesn’t show on his face when he pulls open the door. He lets Maria’s attack hug soothe him into a smile, reaching for Frank next, the larger man clapping him on the back easily.

“You know there’s a shit ton of cameras outside your building? Even the back entrance? We had to use the garage.”

Billy nods, “Yeah, legally I can’t do anything about it. Illegally, I’m gonna shine some lasers at their cameras and fuck up their lenses.”

Frank laughs loudly shaking his head.

“Frank?” Billy hears your voice call from the hallway, he turns to watch you step into view, your hair still damp from your shower.

“Maria?” You say eagerly when you notice her.

“Surprise!” Maria says excitedly as you approach, embracing each other in a warm hug.

You seem confused for a moment, before your eyes meet his. He feels a pang of fear go down his throat.

“I asked them to come,” He explains, “I hope that’s okay.”

You reach for him then, your hands on his face, he closes his eyes as you kiss him eagerly. Laughing into your mouth as he hears Frank groan in torment.

“More than okay, Billy.” You answer, turning to embrace Frank next.

“Boy, you’ve looked better.” Frank teases you, as he sees the fully formed bruise on your face.

Billy watches you laugh.

“We only seem to meet when things have gone to shit, that’s why.” You shoot back.

“Come on, you should meet my mom and sister.” You say eagerly, leading the small group towards the dining table.

Billy lags behind, hesitating to follow.

.

Whatever lingering tension there is between Billy and your mom, is washed away with Maria's easy smile.

Frank is definitely one lucky bastard, to have met someone that blooms so gracefully under scrutiny. 

You have a suspicious thought that maybe your mother wishes you were more like Maria, but the grace and warmth she has, doesn't come easy to you.

Your mother eyes Maria's scar carefully, you watch as she turns her head to meet your eyes, and you drop your gaze, finding your naan much more interesting in that moment.

It’s another accusation, one that hurts you to think about. You want to reach for Billy’s hand, but you decide against interrupting his meal with your insecurities.

You listen, content to hear Maria describe her kids, pulling up photos of ballet recitals and swimming for everyone to see, watching the way Frank silently reassures her as she goes on, and you wish one day that you have a love so secure, without the insecurity, and the fear. That you know with all your heart that the love you have is real and meant for you.

Maria and Frank are kind enough to help with the dishes, and Billy sits you on the couch with a kiss to your head and a cup of tea so that you can rest while he works.

It's where your mom finds you, curled up under a warm blanket.

She settles beside you, and you watch her with weary eyes as she get comfortable before looking at you.

“Have you decided yet?” She asks.

“No.” You whisper, “Mom, I think I love him.”

She lets out a slow breath, nods as if she understands, but you're not sure that she does.

“It always feels like love until it doesn't. I just want you to be safe, muffin, and nothing about him seems safe.”

You can't help the wistful smile that pulls onto your face.

“I know it's weird to say, but there was this moment last night, when he found me, he picked me up and he walked me out, and that was the safest I've ever felt in my life. No one has ever made me feel like that.”

She reaches over, covering your hand with hers.

“Just be sure about it. Find a way to know.”

You nod in understanding.

“If you're not sure, you'll spend your whole life tormented and wondering.” She finishes.

“I get it, yeah. Thanks mom… for looking out for me.”

She squeezes your hand affectionately.

.

For all the struggles you had with your mother, she did in fact care about you.

So in the morning, when she and Emma leave to go back home, you walk them all the way to the front door of your apartment, staying inside in case there are any lingering paparazzi outside trying to get a photo of your bruised face, Billy a few steps back, keeping a polite distance.

Your mother gives him a nod of acknowledgement, and Emma gives him a parting hug, and you try not to smile at how uncomfortable he looks.

“They'll warm up to you.” You reassure him as you watch them climb into one of Billy's secure vehicles, driving away soon after.

He doesn't say anything, which you find very odd, and you reach to take his hand in the elevator, pulling you into his chest at the first moment he can.

“I love you so much.” He murmurs into your hair, and you grin, face pressed into his chest, breathing in his scent.

“I love you too.” You reply, squeezing him happily.

When you step out of your morning shower. He isn't anywhere to be found. You call his name, searching the usual spots for signs of him, confused as to why he didn't tell you he was leaving if he had to.

The counter is bare of any note, and you sigh, heading back to Billy's office to use the landline to call his cell.

You stop short in the hallway when you find the door to your office ajar.

Your heart jolts in your chest, as you push the door open, struggling to breathe as your eyes find him, his back to you, holding the divorce papers in his hands.

He turns when he hears the quiet sound of his name on your lips, his face devoid of any emotion as he drops the small stack of papers onto your desk. Your stomach turning with fear and anxiety, threatening to stop your breathing before he can even utter a word to express his betrayal.

There's no feeling worse than this, the very real possibility that you risk losing him for good because you were too much of a coward to say what you were really feeling.

“Billy.” You whisper again, approaching calmly, “This isn't what you think.”

“I love you.” He says calmly his dark eyes flitting up to meet yours.

“I-” you say softly, trying to force the words out, to save your marriage before it's too late.

His dry laughter is like a knife to your chest.

“I have watched you for years, and in all that time, I’ve never realised how good of a liar you could be.”

“Please,” You struggle to say, your throat closing up in the moments when you need your voice the most, “It’s not what you think.”

“You filled your side out completely. But my social security and signature is missing.” You watch him reach for a pen on your desk, your heart aching with each scratch of the pen as he fills out his side of the forms.

A tear slips down your cheek.

“Stop.” You utter, shaking.

When he ignores you, you march right up to him.

“Stop it right now.” You hiss, grabbing the papers and flinging them across the room. He straightens in response, finally seeing your wretched expression.

You sob, reaching for him, and like the loving man he is, he takes you into his arms.

“Why don’t you want me?” He whispers softly, his voice cracking on the last word and you feel a dam break inside of you.

You cry into his chest, gripping him tightly, his own tears hitting your temple, travelling down to mix with your own.

“I’m sorry,” You hiccup, gripping his shirt, “I’m sorry.”

You raise your head to look up at him, his thumbs pushing your tears away, but the more he cares, the more you cry.

“I want to love you, I want to with everything I have, but I-I don’t know.” 

You grip his shirt, trying to show him how you feel, to open yourself up to him in a way you’d been trying to bottle.

“You chose me, but you never gave me the chance to choose you, and now I don’t know if the love I feel is real- or just a survival mechanism.”

“It’s my fault,” Billy whispers bitterly, “I can’t blame you.”

You think it would hurt less, to be stabbed, than watching the little boy in Billy’s eyes, face rejection all over again.

You cup his face between your palms, shaking his head a little so that he keeps his focus on you.

“I just need some time, apart, I just need to be sure that this is what I want.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, or the words don’t register, you tilt your head up, pressing your mouth to his. The agony of tasting his tears burns at you, and still you kiss him, you kiss him till he’s kissing you back, chasing your mouth the way he does.

“If you love me, if you really love me, you need to let me go.”

He shakes his head, seeking out your lips.

“I can’t.” he whispers brokenly.

“Then I’ll stay,” You promise between kisses, “I’ll stay with you and I’ll hold you and I’ll take every inch of you whenever you like- but you’ll never know for sure, if this is what I really want.”

You suck in a breath, breaking the kiss to look up at him.

“Can you live with that?” You ask.

He squeezes his eyes shut, and finally, he shakes his head.

.

.

.

A/N: List of things I did while writing this:

cried

punched pillows

screamed

struggled to hurt my babies

[lightnotyagami]

"Do you think you'll kill for me one day?"

"Yes, of course i will my dear."

Light x fem reader (soft) smut

A/n:remeber when L put cameras into lights room? When i was like 14 or 15 i read a smut FF like this and OH MY GOD its still in my head. Coudnt find the ogs @ but if i ever do ilysm🙏 (it was on ao3 if anyone wants to help me find it😭)

Summary: L puts cameras into lights room.. great.. but what do normal people his age do? Hang out with friends, do homework.. and some other things.

Tw/cw: my horrible english, soft smut (duh) , being watched, tell me if i missed anything!!

"Are we seriously going to do this?" You asked him still in a safe distance from his house. "Yeah, wanna back out?" He said as he looked at you like you were stupid. "No! I'm just saying, I don't know about the whole... thing." You voiced as he answered with a shrug like what you said wasn't a big deal to him. "Look," he said walking towards you with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I'll take care of it, okay? you just relax and lay down." Your mind went crazy thinking about all the things that could go wrong. "So, are you in yes or no?" He stopped right in front of you and looked directly into your eyes. His face was close enough for you to smell the mint from his breath. 'It felt different being so close to someone, I mean I didn't feel threatened by his appearance, just like when we were fighting but this time I could see how beautiful he really is...' you thought to yourself "fine." "Good girl."

*later in his room*

'64 cameras.' you thought to yourself as you sat yourself on the bed and light on his chair. "hey light!" the door was shot open revealing his little sister, sayu was her name? "mom asked if you want anything from the supermarkt, oh and does Y/n want something too?" she asked now looking at you "oh no dear its fine! you two make yourselves a great day" you answered. "Okay, dont be mad then if we dont bring extra snacks" she winked at making your laugh slightly. 'i wish i had a younger sister' you thought to yourself "okay mom says bye." Sayu said closing the door behind her, leaving only you and light. oh and the 64 cameras from every angle of course. The lights were dimmed making everything look more mysterious. "you want anything?" Light asked turning around to look at you. "no... thanks its okay." you answered looking at the ground embarassed as he sat besides you ."it's alright babe, come sit over here." he patted on his lap. You slowly moved your legs closer to him sitting on his lap. he pulled you closer so that your head was on his chest and his arms were wrapped around you. Everything was going after Plan but why did this still feel so..weird? you dont know if L is the only one watching this. you could only hope. you closed your eyes trying enjoying his touch and warmth as he kissed you softly. "let me show you something, babe." you hummed in response. His fingers which were playing with the ends of your hair slowly moved up to your body . "your heart is beating so fast" he whispered in your ear, causing you to shiver slightly. It sent an electrical jolt through your spine, it was almost painful but good. your heart started hammering in your chest as he pushed your t-shirt up exposing your bra and sofly pushing you down on the bed climbing on top of you. you moaned as he started kissing you softly on your neck, moving it from side to side, leaving small red marks "l-light~!" you whined not sure what to do as he started to unhook your bra , slowly peeling it off your body.

*at the headquarters*

"mister Soichiro Yagami, i belive you would like to leave the room?" L said as soichiro looked at the computers not sure if to ignore this ever happaned or to kill light when hes back home. "yes im sorry i just.." he said as he walked out of the room in complete shock that his son was capable of these things. "anyways. Im bluring the cameras now. Watari unblur them when this is done and a cheese cake would also be nice "

[aryadelvich]

My brother’s best friend - Luigi Mangione

Summary : Luigi is the best friend of your brother. He’s always so nice, so polite and everything. You start to feel something for him but he’s older than you and you think that he would never look at you in that way.

If you want to read more of my work here’s an Updated Masterlist

"No, get lost, Yn! You’re not playing with us. Go away, you fat cow!" your brother yells, eyes glued to the screen.

Luigi sits next to him, giving you a sad look.

"Hey, that’s not cool. Don’t talk to your sister like that," Luigi says, standing up for you.

"What? She’s fat, it’s just the truth," your brother shrugs.

Tears sting your eyes. You can’t help it—you’re just a little girl who wants her big brother to accept her. But he’s horrible to you.

"I’m telling Mom!" you threaten.

Your brother immediately jumps up, making you flinch.

"Do that, and I’ll kill you."

Luigi stands too, stepping between you.

"You shouldn’t hit your little sister. She’s not as strong as you."

"She’s not weak. Look at her, she’s bigger than me."

Luigi glances at you and sees the fear in your eyes. He quickly distracts your brother, making him refocus on the game, then turns to you.

"Hey, Yn, why don’t we go play something else in the living room?" he suggests, trying to make you feel better.

"Thanks, Luigi."

You wipe your tears quickly, a small smile forming on your face.

Luigi is your brother’s best friend, four years older than you. And he’s so much kinder. You wish he were your brother instead of that jerk.

Years pass, and Luigi keeps growing up—just like you. You start noticing him more, the way he’s becoming not just a man, but a good one. He’s getting more handsome, inside and out, while your brother is going in the opposite direction, sinking into a messed-up life. Luigi, on the other hand, is successful, and you can’t help but compare them.

A part of you sometimes wishes you had never met Luigi—he set the bar too high, and now, everything else seems dull. You’ve tried to convince yourself that he must have a darker side, that he’s fake, manipulative, anything to bring him down from the pedestal your mind has put him on. But deep down, you know the truth: he’s the kindest person you’ve ever met.

Every time he comes over, your heart races. You’ve grown up. He has too. And he’s no longer just "your brother’s best friend." He’s a presence that makes you feel safe… and maybe something more.

But he starts visiting less and less. University keeps him busy. Meanwhile, you’re still in high school, stuck at home. Years later, when you move away for college, you find yourself thinking about him more than you should. What if you ran into him by chance? But no—that’s impossible. He’s at the University of Pennsylvania. You’re at Stanford. Then, one day, you walk into class—and there he is. Standing at the front, in the professor’s place. Your heart stops. Then starts pounding. Your cheeks burn. You can’t think, can’t speak. When he notices you, he smiles. That same, warm smile. Everyone on campus is talking about him. About how attractive he is. After class, students crowd around him. You wait your turn.

"Mister," one of the girls calls.

"You can call me Luigi," he replies, stealing quick glances at you, checking if you’re still there.

"You know everyone calls you ‘Daddy’ here?" she teases.

You can’t help but laugh.

Luigi hears you and smiles, but his confusion is obvious.

"Why do they call me that?" he asks, completely clueless.

The girl blushes, suddenly unsure how to explain. He has no idea how much attention he gets.

Soon, everyone leaves, and it’s just the two of you. He walks up and rests a hand on your shoulder.

And there it is again—your heart racing.

"How are you? Classes not too hard?" he asks.

"I’m fine. I didn’t know you were teaching here."

"Your brother didn’t tell you? I help out sometimes."

"My brother tells me nothing," you admit.

"He’s an idiot."

"Yeah, no argument there. Honestly, I don’t even get why you’re still friends with him."

"Honestly?" He tilts his head, thinking. "I guess it’s just habit. We grew up together, share the same friends… but I won’t lie, he’s changed. And not for the better."

You nod, your heart still pounding.

"He’s always been like that. You’re just not around to keep him in check anymore."

Luigi gives you a guilty smile. "I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I always asked about you, and he’d say you were fine. I had no idea he was still acting like that."

He watches you closely, as if trying to read your thoughts. You look away, fighting back unexpected tears. You’re not even sure why they’re there. Maybe because Luigi is so… good. And it makes you realize how rare that is.

"Are you coming to the party tonight?" you ask, changing the subject.

"Isn’t it just for students?"

"I think they’ll let you in the second they see your face."

He chuckles, a bit shy. "I don’t think so. Are you going?"

"Yeah, no way I’m missing it."

"Oh? Is it that good?"

"I just need to blow off some steam after exams."

His smile grows. You check your phone. You need to go or you’ll be late.

"Sorry, I gotta run. See you later!"

"Wait—give me your number," he says quickly.

And just like that, your heart skips again.

"Oh, uh, yeah, sure."

You exchange numbers.

"Take care, okay?" he says gently.

Take care?

The party is in full swing. Music is blasting, drinks are flowing, and everyone is going wild.

And you… you’re in the middle of the chaos. You’ve lost track of how many drinks you’ve had. Everything is spinning, but who cares? Tonight is about letting go. Laughter erupts as you climb onto a chair, holding a brightly colored cocktail in your hand.

"To freedom!" you shout before downing it in one go, earning cheers from the crowd.

And that’s when you see him.

Luigi.

Standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed. He’s looking right at you—and he does not look amused. You squint at him, a playful smirk forming on your lips.

"What’s wrong, Professor? You here to lecture me about alcohol?"

He doesn’t answer. Just keeps looking at you.

And for some reason, that sends a chill down your spine.

You hop down from the chair with a laugh, but you stumble slightly. Before you can fall, a strong hand grabs your arm.

"What, are you gonna babysit me now?" you tease, reaching for your drink again. But before you can grab it, Luigi takes it and dumps it in the sink.

"Exactly."

You raise an eyebrow.

"You’re joking."

"Your parents would kill me if I let you drink yourself sick."

And he means it.

For the rest of the night, he’s there. Just a few steps away, watching. When a guy gets too close, Luigi magically appears behind you, staring him down until he backs off. When you try to grab another drink, he takes it first.

"You’re annoying, Luigi," you groan, cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

"Your liver will thank me later."

And he just keeps looking out for you.

But eventually, it all becomes too much. The noise, the drinks, the everything.

Your stomach twists, nausea hitting hard.

"Shit…" you mumble, pressing a hand to your mouth.

Luigi is there in an instant. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you away from the crowd, away from the music, away from the chaos.

You don’t even fight it.

He gets you in a room, pushes the door open, and sits you on the bed.

You take a deep breath, but the nausea won’t go away.

"Shit, I think I'm gonna—"

You sprint to the bathroom, barely making it in time before you hunch over the toilet.

And Luigi is still there.

Without a word, he crouches beside you, gently pulling your hair back so it doesn’t fall into your face. His hand rubs slow, soothing circles on your back as you empty everything you drank.

It’s humiliating. But in that moment, you feel too awful to care. When it finally stops, you stay there, exhausted. Luigi hands you a tissue, and you take it weakly.

"Why are you doing this?" you murmur, voice hoarse.

"Because you’re like a little sister to me. I have to look out for you."

"I don’t want to be your sister…"

You close your eyes for a second, drained. And in your hazy state, half-conscious, you feel something. A warm, steady hand lifting you gently. Luigi holds you firmly as you both walk down the street. Well… he walks normally. You, on the other hand, stumble like a baby penguin on ice.

"Damn, Yn, you’re really out of it," he sighs, tightening his grip around your shoulders to keep you from collapsing.

You let out a small laugh. The problem is… he doesn’t even know where he’s going.

"Where do you live again?" he asks.

You frown, as if it’s the hardest question in the world.

"Uhh… somewhere."

Luigi closes his eyes briefly, clearly regretting every decision that led him here. "Great. Okay, I’m taking you to my place."

A few minutes—and many frustrated sighs from Luigi—later, you arrive at his apartment. He helps you take off your shoes before guiding you to his room.

"Alright, bed. Now," he orders.

You dramatically flop onto the mattress with a sigh. "You take such good care of me."

He crosses his arms. "Yeah, yeah. Sleep now."

But you don’t want to sleep. You stare at him for a moment, then a slow, playful smile spreads across your lips.

"Luigi…"

Immediately, he’s suspicious. "What?"

You bat your lashes dramatically. "Kiss me."

He blinks, completely caught off guard. "What?"

You roll your eyes. "Kiss me. On the lips. Right now."

"No, Yn, I’m not kissing you."

Your face falls, suddenly offended.

"Why? Is it because I’m ugly?"

He drags a hand down his face, visibly regretting this whole night. "Yn, you’re drunk. That’s why I’m not kissing you."

You pout. "Lame excuse."

With a sigh, he leans in and presses a quick kiss to your cheek. You blink. Your heart stumbles. And, weirdly enough, so does his. And without thinking, the words slip out:

"I love you too much."

Silence.

Luigi freezes, eyes locked on yours.

And you… you just keep talking, no filter, fueled by alcohol and raw emotion.

"Since forever. Since I was a kid. When I was little, I wanted you to be my brother because you were a thousand times better than him. But then I grew up and realized the last thing I wanted was for you to be my brother."

He says nothing. Just looks at you.

You let out a quiet laugh, your eyes shining. "You know what’s crazy? I always thought that if I ever got the courage to tell you, I’d be scared. But right now, I don’t care. I want you, Luigi. I want you by my side."

Luigi finally opens his mouth… but no words come out.

So you just finish with:

"There. It’s said. Now I’m going to sleep. Good night, Luigi."

And, before he can say anything, you turn your head against the pillow and close your eyes.

Luigi stays sitting there, completely stunned.

The first thing you feel the next morning is a killer headache.

"Ugh…" you groan, rolling onto your side.

Your eyes flutter open and… wait. This isn’t your room. You bolt upright—huge mistake. Your head immediately protests.

"Ow, fuck…"

That’s when the door opens. Luigi walks in, holding a cup of tea, looking way too awake for your comfort.

"Oh, you’re up." He sets the cup on the nightstand. "Here. You’re gonna need this."

You stare at him, still half-dazed.

Then, flashes from last night hit you.

The party. The drinking. Luigi bringing you home.

… Luigi kissing your cheek.

… Luigi hearing your whole emotional confession.

Your face turns bright red in an instant.

He sees your expression and, of course, he smirks.

"Ah, I see the memories are coming back."

You grab a pillow and press it over your face. "Tell me I didn’t say what I think I said."

He leans against the wall, clearly enjoying this. "Hmmm… That depends. What do you think you said?"

You groan in frustration. "Luigi…"

He chuckles softly, then sits on the edge of the bed.

"Yn. Relax. I’m not gonna make fun of you."

You peek out from behind the pillow, cheeks still burning. "So… you want to talk about it?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You open your mouth… then close it.

Do you?

Or do you just want to teleport to another dimension and never deal with this again?

"… Maybe?"

He smiles, shakes his head, then hands you the cup of tea.

"Say what you really mean," you push, wanting to rip the Band-Aid off.

He exhales through his nose, looking at you carefully.

"You were completely wasted, Yn. What you said… it doesn’t count. Don’t worry, I didn’t take it seriously."

You don’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. And as you internally crash from ten stories high, his eyes stay on you, reading every tiny reaction. But you recover quickly, forcing a smile.

"Good. I was just talking nonsense anyway. You know how drunk people are."

He nods, looking understanding. But for some reason… something in his gaze lingers.

•••Summer Break•••

You never thought you’d see Luigi again so soon, let alone in your childhood home.

When your brother mentioned that their friend group was throwing a party to celebrate Luigi’s return and his degree, you just shrugged. It made sense. He was the golden boy—the one who had made it, the guy everything seemed to fall into place for. A prestigious degree, international job offers, and that natural charisma that was both frustrating and captivating.

But what you didn’t expect was how your brother would react.

Since Luigi had come back, your brother had been more irritable, colder. And tonight, as the party buzzed through the house, you could see the tension in his jaw as he watched Luigi laugh with their friends.

You came with Jackson, your boyfriend of a few months. It was a simple relationship, easy, something that felt good. But something felt… off.

That something was Luigi.

Since you arrived, he hadn’t stopped looking at you. Not with the usual warmth and kindness. No. Tonight, his gaze was dark, sharp.

And locked onto Jackson.

Sitting on the couch, you chatted with some friends while Jackson, his arm draped over your shoulders, told a story. Luigi, leaning against the wall a few feet away, held a beer in his hand but wasn’t drinking. He was watching.

When Jackson pressed a kiss to your temple, you saw Luigi’s jaw clench.

You didn’t have time to dwell on it because your brother, who had been watching too, suddenly let out a bitter laugh.

"You see that, Luigi? Even my sister has a boyfriend now."

The atmosphere shifted instantly. A brief silence fell before one of his friends let out an awkward laugh, trying to lighten the mood. You felt Jackson tense beside you.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" you asked, crossing your arms.

Your brother shrugged and took a sip of his beer.

"Nothing. Just funny, that’s all."

Luigi set his bottle down on the table and met your brother’s gaze.

"Do you have to be an asshole every time you open your mouth?"

Your brother turned to him, his smirk vanishing.

"Oh, I see. Mr. Perfect wants to lecture me now?"

You could feel this was about to go downhill.

"It’s not about lecturing. It’s about respect," Luigi replied, his voice steady.

Your brother scoffed, but there was a bitterness in his laughter.

"You’ve always been the favorite, huh? The perfect guy, the one who succeeds at everything, the one everyone looks up to."

Luigi sighed.

"Not my fault you haven’t done shit with your life."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Your brother’s fists clenched, ready to swing. Jackson, clearly uncomfortable, stood up.

"I think we should go," he said, glancing at you.

But before you could move, Luigi spoke again, eyes still on your brother.

"You can go, Jackson. Yn is staying."

Your eyes widened.

"Excuse me?"

Jackson turned to him, just as stunned.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

Luigi didn’t answer, but his expression said everything. Jackson looked at you, waiting for you to say something. Why did Luigi want you to stay?

You felt everyone’s eyes on you. The tension was thick, like the whole room was holding its breath. Jackson was expecting you to take his side. Your brother was still fuming. And Luigi… Luigi was staring at you with an intensity that made your stomach twist. He only wanted you to have a good night. His gaze softened, almost apologetic. You slipped your hand into Jackson’s.

"I’m going with him," you said calmly, though your heart pounded in your chest.

Luigi raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Your brother, however, let out a short laugh.

"Of course. So now you’re just one of those girls who falls for the first guy who gives them attention?"

You felt Jackson stiffen beside you.

"Dude, you’ve got serious issues," Jackson shot back.

"No," your brother sneered, pointing at you. "She’s the problem. Always looking for approval, always trying to prove something…"

His voice dripped with resentment.

"You think I’m the one desperate for validation?" you snapped, your anger rising. "Since when do you care what I do with my life?"

"Since you started bringing your boyfriend here like this is some kind of brothel," he grumbled.

The audacity. Especially coming from him, with all the girls he’d brought home over the years—girls your parents never said a word about. They always had his back. You opened your mouth to fire back, but another voice cut in.

"She’s not the one trying to prove something. You are."

Luigi.

His voice was calm but firm, his eyes locked onto your brother’s like ice.

"It pisses you off, doesn’t it?" Luigi continued. "Seeing your little sister move forward while you’re stuck in the same place."

Your brother’s fists clenched tighter.

"Shut up."

"You’re jealous of her. But instead of admitting it, you take it out on her."

"I said SHUT UP!"

Your brother grabbed a bottle from the table and hurled it violently against the wall. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, making everyone jump. A heavy silence settled over the room. Your breathing was uneven. Beside you, Jackson pulled you slightly backward. Luigi, however, didn’t move. He stared at your brother with unnerving calm.

“You need help, man.”

Your brother said nothing. He was trembling with rage, his breathing erratic. Then, without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The tension lingered. No one moved.

You realized your hand was trembling slightly in Jackson’s. Luigi finally turned his head toward you.

“Come on, I’ll take your room” he said simply.

Jackson frowned.

“She’s going home with me,” he cut in.

“She’ll decide,” Luigi replied flatly.

You met Luigi’s gaze. Something about him had shifted. That look in his eyes… it wasn’t just control or possessiveness. It was something else. You swallowed, uncertain.

“Yn?” Jackson asked softly.

You let out a sigh, shaking your head.

“I’m done,” you muttered before turning away. “Jackson, you can go home. I’m going to my room.”

“No, Yn, I’ll stay with you. You need someone right now.”

Luigi watched the exchange, feeling jealousy creep into his chest, sharper and stronger by the second.

“That’s really nice of you, Jackson, but I’d rather be alone.”

Without another word, you left the living room, not sparing a glance behind you. The tension still hung thick in the air. Your heart was pounding—anger, confusion, something else you couldn’t name. Once inside your room, you shut the door and collapsed onto your bed.

Then—footsteps outside.

You stiffened. A hesitation. Then a soft knock.

“Jackson, I don’t want to talk!”

“…Yn.”

Luigi’s voice. Low, almost hesitant. But when it was Luigi, it felt different. You sat up and opened the door just enough to meet his gaze. He studied you, searching for something in your expression. You took a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured.

He blinked, surprised.

“Sorry for what?”

You shrugged, struggling to put words to everything weighing on you.

“For tonight, for my brother, for… everything.”

He let out a tired, lopsided smile.

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, dropping your gaze for a moment.

“You should go back to the party,” you said quietly.

“Not happening. I sent everyone home.”

You sighed. “This was supposed to be a good night for you. I’m sorry, Luigi, really.”

“If you really want me to accept your apology, let me in. I want to talk. It is my party, after all.”

You hesitated. But deep down, you wanted him to stay.

It had become a habit—Luigi was always the one who managed to lift your spirits when you were upset.

You stepped aside, letting him in. He glanced around your room, then turned back to you.

“What do you want, Luigi?”

He took a breath before meeting your eyes.

“Just to talk.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He smirked slightly, but his gaze was serious.

“I’ve finally decided to tell you the truth.”

You sat back down on your bed, and he followed suit.

“What truth?”

“I never really liked your brother.”

You blinked, stunned.

“What? But… you two were always hanging out.”

He shrugged.

“Because it was the only way to keep an eye on you.”

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

“Your brother has always been… complicated. He was never really kind to you. I was there to balance it out, to make sure he didn’t push you down too much.”

Silence filled the room.

You didn’t know what to say. Part of you was shocked, but another part… relieved.

“So… this whole time, you were here for me?” you whispered.

He nodded without hesitation.

“And now, I’m starting to think I should still be watching over you.”

Your brows furrowed.

“What?”

His gaze darkened slightly.

“Jackson.”

You scoffed.

“What about Jackson?”

He leaned back on your bed, too serious for your liking.

“Tell me everything. How long have you been together? What does he do? Any bad habits? Does he treat you right? Does he smoke ?

You gaped at him.

“Wait—are you interrogating me?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Obviously. I need to make sure he’s trustworthy.”

You let out a short, incredulous laugh.

“Luigi, you’re not my dad.”

He smirked slightly.

“No. But I’ve spent years looking out for you. You really think I’m just going to let you be with some guy without asking questions?”

You studied him, unsure. He was half-joking—but only half.

“He’s… nice,” you said cautiously.

“That’s it? Just nice? Come on, Yn, I need more details.”

“I’m not in the mood, Luigi.”

Luigi glanced around your room, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips.

"It feels weird being here..." he murmured. "It reminds me of something. One of your many crazy schemes."

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

He let out a small laugh.

"Oh yeah? Then let me refresh your memory..."

He sat up slightly, amusement flickering across his face.

"You were dead set on becoming the president of the debate club. You had an amazing speech prepared, you worked like crazy... but they made you vice president instead because you were too young."

You rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me of that humiliation."

He kept going, ignoring your pout.

"But instead of accepting defeat like a normal person, you came to me with the most ridiculous plan."

You tried to hide a smile.

"You mean a brilliant plan."

Luigi rolled his eyes.

"I’d call it a full-on betrayal."

You shrugged, feigning innocence.

"It was just a political strategy."

He shook his head, amused.

"A political strategy where you had me seduce the club president so she’d resign."

You burst out laughing.

"Hey, it’s not my fault she was terrible at the job! I just sped up the inevitable."

Luigi pointed at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

"The worst part is that you dragged me into it."

You raised an eyebrow.

"And do you regret it?"

He pretended to think.

"Honestly? No. It was fun watching how far you’d go to get what you wanted."

You grinned, proud.

"See? When I want something, I always get it."

His expression shifted slightly, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped himself. You watched him, intrigued.

"What?"

He shook his head and smiled.

"Nothing. Just... you're incredible."

You lowered your head, trying to hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks.

"Are you drunk?" you asked, just to be sure he was himself.

"I only had one drink. I'm completely sober. And I meant what I said."

Luigi held your gaze for a moment, a soft smile on his lips.

"Come here." He opened his arms.

You blinked, surprised.

"Huh?"

"Come on, before I change my mind."

You chuckled lightly, but your heart was pounding. Then, you moved closer, feeling his warmth, his steady breath. You rested your head against his neck, and he wrapped his arms around you. His embrace was warm, comforting. The familiar scent of him instantly calmed your tense muscles. You closed your eyes, soaking in the moment.

"Thank you, Luigi..." you murmured against his chest.

He didn’t answer right away, but you felt his chin rest briefly on top of your head. And somehow, that simple gesture was enough to quiet all the chaos in your mind. When he finally pulled away, you almost protested. But then he stood up and walked toward your bedroom door. You raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?"

He locked the door and twirled the key between his fingers.

"I'm staying with you. All night."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"What? Why?"

He gave you a look, as if the answer was obvious.

"Because I know you'll overthink everything and not sleep. And I told you, I'm here."

He walked back to the bed and settled beside you without hesitation. You shifted to make room, still uncertain, but he simply draped an arm around you and pulled you close—like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was.

Maybe that was just Luigi. A constant presence. A safe place.

Without thinking, you nestled your face against his chest and whispered,

"I could stay like this all night..."

He chuckled softly.

"Then stay."

"You know I have a boyfriend," you reminded him.

"There's nothing ambiguous about this. We're just friends."

Nothing ambiguous, apparently.

"You know I'm better than him."

"Oh, sure, Luigi. If that makes you feel better."

"Come on, admit it. I know you think it deep down."

"He's my boyfriend. I would never say that."

"And yet, you're in my arms."

"Not for long if you keep talking."

You stayed like that for a good ten minutes. But sleep wouldn't come—Luigi’s presence was far too distracting.

You hesitated for a moment before fully turning to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. His hazel eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, you saw something there you had never noticed before. Something that made your stomach twist in a way it never had before.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, his lips were on yours, and everything else disappeared.

The kiss was soft, hesitant—like he was afraid you'd pull away.

And that’s exactly what you did.

"Luigi, what are you doing?"

He didn’t answer right away, his face turning red, clearly embarrassed.

"I really hope you're not doing this just because you feel sorry for me," you said, searching his expression.

"What? No. I'm doing it because I want to," he justified.

"Do you… Do you have feelings for me?" you asked, needing to understand what had changed so suddenly.

"When I saw you with Jackson, I felt so jealous... I don’t know why. I’ve never seen you with another guy before."

"Luigi..."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

He started to pull away, but you grabbed his wrist and kissed him back. He froze, surprised.

But when you pressed closer, your fingers tangling in his hair, he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours. Your senses were overwhelmed—his taste, the feel of his body against yours, the way his hands cupped your face like you were something precious.

"Yn," he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "Are you sure?"

"This is all I’ve ever wanted, Luigi. Since I was thirteen."

You felt his smile against your lips.

"What about Jackson? And your brother?" he murmured between kisses.

"I don’t care”you answered instantly, pulling him closer. And then you kissed him again.

[aventurineswife]

Hey! I kinda had this thought for a while that I kinda wanted to share with you for a concept of the SAHSRAU.

it's kinda or semj related to the Reader/Creator having children. So creator is an extremely caring and empathetic person especially towards the children, Sinxe they view the children as very innocent and have some extreme parental instinct. However what if in some cases the reader can feel their trauma, pain and suffering and causes them to go after the person that caused them harm. Now what I mean by this let's take for example HuoHuo. Huo Huo who has been abandoned by her parents and unamed younger sister experienced abandonement issues and lots of bullying because of this the Reader is an extremely soft and acts as a parental figured towards her. However if by some coincindence the reader spots Huo Huo's parents by the distance. Their behaviour would take a 180 degree turn. Let me make a little scenario

The reader is currently helping Huo Huo and the ghost hunting squad on a comission. After said comission was done the reader decided to hang out a bit with Huo Huo. Whoever in the distance Huo Huo's mother could be seen. Which is a miracle by itself considering since Huo Huo's mother didn't wanted a "cursed" child. The reader felt they were being watched as they look around they inmediately recognized the figure. Their loving and calm gaze was replace by this unreadable expression.

Huo Huo: "C-Creator...W-what's wrong?" *She noticed the creator waa looking at something and so did mister Tail. She slowly look at the source of this Creator's glaze and she noticed it was her mother. She gently looks down as a remainder of her past came sinking in that only fuels the creator's vengeful side*

Meanwhile the creator's glaze was turning venomous and almost murderous aa the entire Xianzhou felt the changed of weather as the clouds werw becominh darker and the creators eyes were turnung red. Meanwhile Huo Huo's mother felt and intense sense of burning on her very soul like she was being judge and punished and an invisible hand chocking her but before The creator could go any further

Mr Tail: "Hey! Snap of it!"

Suddently the Creator's eyes turned back to normal and they seemed to noticed tje damage as everyone was looking at them with fear wondering what could havw gotten them in such a bad mood all of a sudden

Creator: "My apologies...How about we go get something to eat elsewhere?" *They said with a loving smile as they took Huo Huo away from the scene they unintentinally cause but not before giving one last glare that burn brighter than the sun at Huo Huo's mother that was shaken to her very core. That glare was a silent promise of retribution. Meanwhile everyone look at tje scene and gave Huo Huo's mother a funny look and some werhe whispering on how the creator venomous look were pointed at her*

Like this concept could go hard because I feel like people more often than not yhe creator can have a darker side but that darker side will only manifest when their beloved acolytes or followers were deeply hurt. Kinda like a vengeful angel seeking some sort of justice for the innocent that has been wronged. The crazy part about this is that even if the creator doesn't really "cursed" them. They won't be able to hide forever since their reputation might end up ruined because word will spread on the source of the creator's wrath.

What do you think about this concept?

I LOVE this concept—like, genuinely, this is one of the most emotionally loaded and thematically powerful takes I’ve seen for a SAHSRAU Creator.

1. The Duality of Divinity: Warmth + Wrath

You’ve created a Reader that is both sanctuary and storm. They're soft with the hurt, the lonely, and the broken (like Huo Huo), but when the cause of that pain comes into view? That divinity turns predatory. It's not about blind rage—it’s divine protection. And that's more terrifying than just wrath.

That subtle shift:

“Their loving and calm gaze was replaced by this unreadable expression.” Chills.

2. Huo Huo’s Trauma Through a Divine Lens

Having the Creator feel the lingering trauma of children like Huo Huo makes the bond more than emotional—it’s spiritual. And that hits so hard in SAHSRAU because it paints the Reader not just as a god who sees, but one who remembers and feels for their children in a way no one else can.

It also gives so much weight to your idea of the Reader having “children”—not literally, but as emotional wards of their divine care.

3. The Consequence Without Words

The fact that: “The creator didn’t curse her.” But instead… ruined her reputation by being seen, by a glare, by letting the world draw its own conclusions—that's chillingly holy. It leans into the mythology SAHSRAU thrives on. Letting the divine remain ambiguous, but undeniably felt.

4. The Creator’s Wrath Becomes Myth

You’re right: word would spread. Fast. That this person was the reason the Creator’s mood shifted. That the skies darkened. That the ground felt like it was ready to open up. That Mr. Tail had to snap the god out of it.

From there, the whispers start:

“Who is that woman?”

“What did she do to Huo Huo?”

“If the Creator looked at me like that, I think I’d drop dead.”

And Huo Huo? She wouldn’t rejoice. But she’d quietly curl closer into the warmth of the Reader, maybe for the first time… feeling like someone finally chose her.

This Concept Is Divine Justice.

It’s protective. It’s vengeful. It’s loving in a fierce, radiant, terrifying way.

[isabeauwolf]

Trafalgar Law x Pregnant reader

💛 Chapter 1 💛 Chapter 3

Chapter 2 - Somebody call a doctor?

"Could you be my doctor?" Jess snickers over the phone. She called you as soon as she got home. "Really Y/n?" She cackled even harder. "Girl, you want Dr Grumpy to be more than your personal doctor." Pausing for dramatic effect and adding, "You want his daily dose of vitamin D sooo bad."

You knew she had that smug assed grin on her face as you rubbed your forehead. You knew she was right which made you even more flustered and embarrassed. "I know, I know, Jess." You groaned, "I wasn't thinking and it slipped out."

"You are way too cute for your own good." She commented. "You do know that right?"

"So I've been told." You muttered, laying down on your bed and hugging your snow leopard Build-a-Bear. It was an impulse buy you bought yourself for Christmas. It reminded you of Law every time you saw it and held it, wishing it was him.

"Do you need me to go with you to get your first ultrasound?" Jess asked, pulling out her pajamas from her closet

"Nah, be fine." You replied. "Plus Law will be with me."

"Let me know," Jess pressed. "Max considers you family." Max was Jess' big brother and owner of the coffee shop. The pair of siblings thought of you as their own baby sister, even if Jess was a year younger than you.

"Yeah, I know." You smile, "Thanks." You roll onto your side, facing the door.

You hear the tiny pitter patter of tiny feet running through the house and jingle coming towards you as Onigiri comes rushing into your room like a tiny rocket.

You laugh. "Somebody's missed me." You pat the spot beside your bed. "Hey baby, c'mere."

Onigiri. The tiny puppy with pure white fur and a huge black shaped triangle on his head, reminding you of rice balls.

And somehow of Law.

He runs around in a circle and jumps into your bed, barking and nuzzles into your side. Panting as his tail wags.

"I missed you too, my little cutie." You coo gently, petting him as he crawls underneath your blanket and cuddles against your belly.

Well, guess that explains why Onigiri seems glued to your side lately. Animals have a sixth sense of these things or so you've heard.

"Awe, lemme see, lemme see." Jess gushes into your ear, using her baby voice.

"Hold on, hold on." You turn on the camera to face yourself and angle your phone down so Jess can see the picture perfect sight. "There. Can you see him?"

Jess squealed, taking screenshots. "Looks like Dr Love's got some real competition for your love Y/n." She teases, grinning wide. "Onigiri and your mini me. Talk about a handful." Tilting her head, "Hope Doc isn't the jealous type."

"Why do you like to tease the poor man so much?" You ask, laying back down and petting Onigiri. "Are you sure you don't have a bully crush on Law?" You knew she didn't but you had to tease her back, biting your lip to stay composed.

It didn't work, you snorted as Jess grew defensive. Gawking at you and grimacing as if you just drop kicked her grandmother.

"What?! Hell no. Mister tall dark and emo drug lord ain't my type." Jess makes fake gagging noises, which causes you to giggle louder. "Besides, I like'em big and dumb."

"Bepo isn't Law's second in command for nothing you know." You pointed out, laying your head underneath the crook of your arm.

"Oh, you know what I mean " Jess waves you off. "He's so sweet, adorable and knows material arts, loyal, really, really tall." She sighs dreamily, falling into her bed. "Blonde hair, blue eyes... so shy."

"God help that poor, poor man." You give her a dramatic sigh and make the sign of the cross over your heart, "Corrupting poor Bepo's innocence and cuteness with your overly horny witch craft and voodoo magic. Jess for shame."

"Oh hell yes, I would!" Jess fires back. "Don't you judge me after pinning for drop dead gorgeous Dr Heart Stealer Y/n." She points her finger at you, setting her phone into her bed and pulls her shirt over her head, leaving her in her cute purple lacy bra. "I would bet two hundred beri's.. no five hundred that you've had as many sinful, dirty thoughts and wet dreams for Law as I've had for my bear man."

You grew heated. "Fair enough." You couldn't deny it.

"I'll take your silence as a yes." Jess countered in a single song voice, slipping into an adult panda man onesie and fell back into her pile of panda and polar bear stuffed animals. "I'm home my babies." She scoops an armful and cuddles them, smiling wide.

You were honestly thinking you both had a taste in odd men.

Then again, being stuck in the winter island all your lives does make the world feel smaller.

"Alright, I'm going to bed." You yawn, rubbing your eyes and turn your lamp off on your nightstand.

"Night night, love ya." Jess blows you a kiss. "Give me the details tomorrow sexy mama."

You laugh, smiling. "Night, Jess."

You both hung up.

You peaked underneath you blanket to find Onigiri fast asleep, "Night, Onigiri." You whisper softly and layed back down, hugging your snow leopard closer to your chest as you unlocked your phone, thumb hovering over Law's name.

You knew you'd see him tomorrow, and yet, you couldn't help but feel nervous. Seriously, why did you ask your crush to become your doctor? Were you that desperate? At least, he didn't flat out call you an idiot to your face when you gave him a heart attack this evening.

Law's question rang through your mind.

Are you going to put the baby up for adoption?

Sure, it would be the responsible and logical thing to do. You didn't make enough to have a baby right now. You were barely scrapping by as it is. You did have some saving saved up for a rainy day. You had heard of couples try to conceive for years and were unable to, waiting for a miracle that never came. It would feel nice to help someone like that, but the real question was: Could you?

You were honestly surprised Law would agree to seeing you so easily. Surely, he was busy and had enough on his plate as it is.

You felt your lips curl upward.

Maybe the stoic, ice cold and straight laced doctor had a kind heart?

Taking a deep breath you decided to message Law first, nicknaming him "Snow Leopard" in your phone.

You: Good evening Law, thank you for talking with me tonight. I appreciate it. I'm going to bed now. I'll see you in the morning. Good night. :)

Three dots appeared when he messaged you back.

Snow Leopard: It was no problem at all, Y/n-ya. I was the one who offered in the first place. I am glad that you felt you could confide in me.

Good night and sleep well.

Your smile brightened as you set your phone down on the nightstand. "Good night, Law." You closed your eyes as your heart fluttered in your chest and went to sleep.

On the other side, Law sat down in his reading chair after taking off his reading glasses and the book he was reading, sitting in his lap. His phone in hand as he sighed and rubbed his forehead with the back of his palm.

He frowned look down at the message you sent. The pregnancy test you showed him was positive, but you still needed to be seen for a medical checking up and ultrasound. If you wanted him to be your primarily care doctor, he'd do it. He'd support you, offer medical advice, anything within his power and knowledge to help you.

Law set his glasses on the coffee table, put a bookmark in the book as he was reviewing and revising any material he had on pregnancy, labor and child birth on his selves.

He'd seem you around kids. You were always so kind, offering other pregnant woman a helping hand to the door or to watch their little ones while their mothers had to use the restroom or take a call.

He knew you would make a great mother someday.

He didn't expect for it to happen so soon and with someone else, even a one night stand. The tiny, microscopic percentage that you would get pregnant while using both forms of birth control wasn't unheard of, but the odds were their.

He wasn't aware that you were looking for a casual partner or hookup. He might have offered, if he'd known. Then again, he didn't ask and you hadn't brought it up.

Out of all the men on who came passing through this winter island, it had to be Ace. Luffy's big brother.

Law had Ace's number, knew it wasn't his place to inform the man that you were pregnant, it would be immoral and against doctor and patient confidentiality.

A tiny part of him hoped you didn't have any lingering feeling for the man.

The more he thought about it, the more his feelings he'd bottled up were festering. Jealousy, heartache and longing, to name a few.

Law never wanted you to think he was using his medical practice to coax you into anything you didn't want to do. Or for selfish reasons.

Setting the medical book down on top of the books he had littered and spread outs onto the coffee table. He glanced at it and decided to leave them and would pick everything up in the morning. He stretched and stood to his feet, turned the light off and figured he needed to shower and go to bed.

Law layed in bed, in the dark and stared at the ceiling. His hands tightened around the blanket, then relaxed. It felt dumb to be nervous about tomorrow, he's seen hundreds of patients, so why should tomorrow be any different? Scratch that. He knew why. It was you coming into his office, his new patient.

He scowled at the darkness, rolling onto his side, layed his arm underneath his pillow and slowly took in a deep breath and huffed it through his nose. Reaching for his phone, turning his head as to not blind himself when the screen lit up, glancing down at his lock screen of him and his adoptive father, Rosinante when Law graduated from medical school. Law felt himself smile as he unlocked it with the swipe of his thumb, oops, he forgot to close the text message with you.

He felt his cheeks burn in embarrassed as he backed out and returned to the home screen showing a picture of him, Bepo, Shachi, Penguin and Ikkaku during his uncle Doflamingo's annual Christmas party that Rosinante had taken last year.

Now, that he thought about it. It wasn't long after that he'd met you that night.

He had to rush back to the hospital for an emergency surgery on a patient, after working hours until the patient was stable Law had decided to grab a cup of coffee on the way home. He'd been exhausted, irritable after no sleep, he wasn't looking his best, if he was being honest.

Law had decided to walk down to the local coffee shop since the line in front of the hospital Moonbucks was jam packed and he didn't want to wait. So he went down the street, it was busy but quiet which surprised him. He noticed Bepo, Shachi and Penguin were waiting in line as well, then he remembered they'd mentioned the coffee shop had better service and a more cozy atmosphere. Something about the waitresses were cute and the owner was friendly.

Law didn't really care as long as the coffee wasn't too overpriced or tasted decent, or worse, tasted like watered down bean water. He didn't realize he'd been scowling until a feminine voice called his attention, making him return to reality.

"Long night, I take it?" You smile at him, tablet in hand, waiting patiently. Your hair was in a braid with tiny golden Christmas bells woven into it and you wore a black, blue and white sweater with polar bears wearing scarfs on them. "What can I get you?" You repeat gently.

Law's eyes widened, feeling his heart skip a beat and thud hard into his chest. Inwardly shaking himself and cleared his throat. "Medium dark roast, double shot espresso and cream, please." He felt his skin warm as he pulled out his wallet.

You type out his order, repeat it as he inserts his card. "Will that be all for today, doctor?"

Law's silver gaze met your own. "How did you know?"

Your smile widened, eyes lowering as you giggled. "You're still in uniform doctor."

What? No, he wasn't... Oh. Law glanced down at himself, he was so tired, he forgot to take off his surgical scrubs. Well, that's embarrassing. Thank God, he wasn't covered in blood. The surgeon felt his face grow redder as he covered his eyes with his spotted hat. "Oh, you're right." He muttered to himself, meeting your beautiful gems after typing in his pin and you handed him his receipt. "Thank you miss."

"Y/n." You correct, offering your hand. "Doctor?"

Law readjusted his hat, took your smaller hand in his own and shook it. "Trafalgar Law."

"That's a unique name Trafalgar." You tasted his name on your tongue, made him shudder. "I've never seen you around before. Are you new around here?"

"Law." He correct softly. "Trafalgar is my Last name." He didn't know why he felt the need to correct you, a stranger. He usually didn't care if anyone called him by his first or last name before.

You blushed as you lowered your hand. "Oh, I'm sorry." You cover your burning cheek, giving him a cute sheepish and apologetic smile. "I beg your pardon Law."

It felt right, hearing you call his name. He liked it.

"None taken, Y/n-ya." Law left his lips curl into a slight smirk causing your blush to deepen.

"Y/n-ya?" Your brows furrowed as you stared at him in curiosity. "Is that a strange habit of yours Law?" You lower your hand from your face and half turn, writing his name in a clear medium sized plastic cup. "Or is it how you usually greet people Law-ya?" You tease, eyes sparkling with a teasing lit.

Oh, you were spunky too?

Law's gaze flickered to your hand writing it was neat and cursive, pretty even. His smirk grew into something smug and playful, "Something like that." He commented returning his card into his wallet and back into the pocket of his coat.

"Thank you, Law. Your order will be right up." You fully turn, walking to the coffee machine to make his order.

His gaze lowered to your backside in those tight, stretchy black leggings and black boots. He felt himself swallowing, mesmerized by the sway of your hips before he shook himself, raising a hand to scrub his jaw as he glanced away.

Well, he was awake, flustered and horny now. Great, just what he needed.

Law shuffles awkwardly towards the pick up counter, waiting and pulling out his phone to distract himself when he feels someone sling an arm over his shoulder.

"Rough morning, Captain?" Shachi asked smiling.

"Rough night." Law grunts. "Some dumbass decided to fist fight Akainu and play with fire last night while drunk."

"Wow, seriously? On Christmas?" Bepo asks, appearing on the other side of Law.

"Who's that crazy enough to face that tight assed marine?" Penguins asks.

Law sighed, shaking Shachi off and pinched the bridge of his nose with his middle and index finger. "Monkey D Luffy, Garps grandson."

Bepo, Shachi and Penguin all parroted in shock, eyes wide. "Monkey D Garp has a grandson?!"

"Yes, apparently he's got three troublesome grandsons and Luffy, or StrawHat is one of them." Law admitted. "I talked with him and StrawHats mother last night in the waiting room. A reckless, stubborn kid was pissed off about Akainu insulting his older brothers."

"Law?" You called.

Law opened his eyes, lowered his hand and met your smiling face.

"Your order is ready." You lower his coffee onto the counter and scoot it towards him. "Careful, it's hot." You warned gently.

"Well, hello again gorgeous." Penguin purred.

"Captain, I didn't know you were hitting on this cutie." Shachi asked, wiggling his brows, covering his mouth to whisper into Law's pierced ear. "Go, cap. Did you get her number?"

"No, I'm not." Law bit out, gritting his teeth. "And get off." He shrugged him off, stepping forward to pick up his drink. His face softened as he sighed, already feeling mentally drained. "Thank you, Y/n-ya."

"Your welcome, Law." You replied, smile widening as you waved goodbye. "Have a good day and hope to see you again soon."

Law'a lips curled as he plugged his phone onto the charger and layed it down beside him. It figures that it quickly became a habit for him to have coffee at Max's shop from then onward. He had to see you again, even if, he wouldn't admit it at the time. Whenever Law was stressed or down, he thought of you and your smiling face.

Closing his eyes as he whispered gently, "Night, Y/n."

---------

You arrived way too early. At seven in the morning. Folder in hand with all of your important paperwork and your purse as you walked into the hospital and towards the receptionist who greeted you with a practiced perfect smile.

"How many I help you?"

"Did Doctor Trafalgar Law schedule me an appointment for an ultrasound and blood work?" You asked, feelings your cheeks heat up. It would be super embarrassing, if he had forgotten.

She raised a brow. "I'll check." Her eyes returning to her computer, hands hovering over the keyboard. "Name?"

You give her your first and last name.

"Yes, Doctor Law has you scheduled in." She picked up a clip board and handed it to you. "Fill these out please and he'll call you shortly." Her gaze scanning you up and down.

Why do you feel as if she's low key judging you?

"Thank you." You smiled back, picked a seat and sat down. Opening your folder and wallet, writing down your information. You were on the last page when some walked through the door and called your name.

"Y/n L/n?"

You raised you head, smiling widening as you gathered your things and stood.

It was Bepo. The giant man was dress in bright orange scrubs.

"Bepo!" You walked towards him. You ignored the receptionist stare on your back. "It's great to see you."

Bepo leaned down and hugged you, gently. "Garchu, Y/n!" The giant blonde man nuzzled the top of your head in affection. "Law told me you would be here this morning, but he didn't say what for." He pulled away, frowning in worry. "Are you alright?"

You forgot that Bepo was a huger. "Garchu Bepo." You laughed, hugging him back. "I'm fine. Just need to run a few tests." Well, you weren't wrong.

"Don't be nervous." Bepo holds the door open for you and let you in first before leading the way with his own clip board in hand. "First we will do a standard physical and then Law will be with you shortly." Glancing down at the clipboard in your hand he smiled, "I'll take that for you when you are finished."

True to his word, Bepo took your height and weight, standard physical. Gave you a plastic cup with your name on it and asked you to use the bathroom across the hallway to pee in a cup.

It always felt awkward peeing in one of those tiny plastic cups. You were lightly haunted the one time you had to use one during a standard drug test and your were on your period. That was embarrassing as you had handed it to the guy with a huge blush on your face.

Shaking your head you took the cup, did your business, washed your hands and very carefully watched back to the nurses station to hand her the full cup.

She thanked you and took the sample with a gloved hand and put it in a ziplock bag.

You made a beeline towards the room you were in to finished your paperwork. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it!

You placed the clipboard onto the desk when you heard someone knock.

"Y/n-ya?" Law's voiced called behind the door. "May I come in?"

"Yes, Law you may." You giggle. You really couldn't help it. You walked back towards your seat.

Law opened the door and walked in, a brow raised. "Someone slept well, if you are this spunky in the morning."

You try to ignore how incredible-y hot Law looks in his glasses, lab coat and the stethoscope around his neck. Not to mention, the black button down he's wearing with a few of the buttons unbuttoned and his sleeves roll half up his arms. Jesus, did he not care about the hospital dress code?

You swallow, stealing a glance at his tattoos, not to mention the hint of muscle peaking though. Oh, how you wanted to trace the hidden pattern of ink with your fingers or tongue. Inwardly telling yourself to shut up you answered, "Something like that."

Closing the door behind him, Law went towards the sink to wash his hands, dry them and slip on a pair of latex gloves. "Other than yesterdays vomiting. Are you showing any other symptoms of pregnancy? Anything you can think of or might have missed?"

You hum, counting off your fingers. "My period being two weeks late, having to go to the bathroom more often, I have this weird craving for bbq and having cramps, but no period.... that's about it."

"Everything seems normal." He concluded, picking up your paperwork and skimming through it. "Do you remember what set off your nausea?"

"Yeah, pickles from Max's sandwich which sucks." You pout. "I love pickles."

Law glanced up and opened his mouth to say something when there was another knock on the door.

"Come in." Law answered without peaking over his shoulder.

"I'm coming to collect Y/n's paperwork and to give her this gown to change into." Bepo replied sheepishly, "Sorry." The poor man got easily discouraged and depressed.

"It's fine, Bepo." Law waved him off, handing him the clipboard, taking the blue dressing gown from Bepo and handing it off to you before he stood. "I'll let you change while I wait outside."

"Thank you again, Law." You smile causing the doctor to pause.

"Your welcome, Y/n-ya." Law gave a hint of smile then closed the door behind him.

You released the breath that you didn't know you were holding. Just think of this as a regular doctors visit, Y/n. Don't make it weird. Law's not here to be ogled and drooled after. You mentally scolded yourself, feeling yourself growing flustered. He's doing his job. Get those fantasies out of your head!

Ugh, why did Jess slip that stupid doctor romance novel into your email this morning?! You know she did it on purpose.

Didn't help that it had you hooked when you found out of the male lead was a grumpy doctor. Who had you immediately think of Dr Heart Stealer himself.

Folding your clothes into the chair beside you on top of your folder and purse. You felt yourself shiver from the cold air in the room when you were completely naked, except for your fuzzy socks. You knew it would look stupid, but you knew the floor would be cold if you took them off. So you slipped on the hospital gown. Uh oh. How were you going to tie the back, if you can't see what your doing?

Okay, think about it as a bigger apron. That's all it is, yup... nope. Dammit.

You jumped as your heard another knock on the door. "Yes?" You sat down in your seat, on the white crinkly thin assed sheet of paper they always put on these seats. You knew it was for sanitary reasons, but you always hoped you never tore it.

"Y/n-ya? Are you decent?" Law asked.

"I.. uh.. I might need some help." You admitted, mentally groaning. "Can you help me, please?"

Law opened the door. "What's the matter?"

You pout and half turn while completely covering your ass, yet you felt the cold air hit your back. "I can't seem to tie it."

"Is that all?" He chuckled, step forward and slipping on new medical gloves. "I can always ask a female nurse to-"

You cut him off. "It's really no bother, Law."

"Alright." Law nods, slowly approaching as you fully turned and moved your hair out of the way. The man towers over you, reaches out, his inked hand hesitates before he helps you tying the hospital gown closed. His skilled fingers move with practiced easy. Gaze flickering down to your skin, noticing the map of goosebumps, It's from the cold in the room, he tells himself, even if, he secretly wished it was from him having such an affect on you.

With your back completely bare before him and being unable to see his transfixed and greedy stare as his cheeks warm and his heartbeats and thunders hard in his ears. He'd love nothing more than to trail feathery light kisses or his inked digits along the nape of your neck, press you closer into his chest and cause a new litter of goosebumps to pebble and rise.

God, Law doesn't know what he wants to do more. Hold you, tease you, kiss you or all three? Was this a bad idea or mistake having you as his new patient? A cute distraction that he didn't need. A temptation to test his patience as he forced himself to not act on impulse or his intrusive thoughts? Swallowing thickly, he lowered his hands. "There." He backed away to give you space as to not intimidate you. Law hoped you didn't think he was being a creep with how long it look him to tie the damned gown closed.

You fully turn and smile at him. "Thanks, Law."

"Your welcome, Y/n-ya." He meets your beautiful eyes. Once again, he found himself checking impulse after impulse with you, ignoring the yearning he felt or simply reach out to cup your face to run his inked thumb along the apple of your cheek.

Your gaze lowered dreamily to his lips. Would he taste like mint and coffee? Cinnamon, or spearmint?

There was another knock on the door, causing reality to come crashing back down, washing away the sexual tension and raw, burning haze from you both.

Yes, he's The Doctor and you as his new Patient.

Law's jaw clenches. "What is it?" He calls without glancing away from you before half turning to fully glare at whoever the hell was behind that goddamn door.

The door opens, Penguin peaks his head through and smiling sheepishly. "Sorry to disturb you but uh.... the newbies in training and interns are growing bored." His gaze flickers to you, his face and eyes brighten, apologetic smile turning smug. Oh, that's why Captains been fidgeting and antsy since he clocked in at 5am, secretly passing his office.

Law's heated glare turned seething, clicking his tongue. "Can't they follow simple orders or expect me to hold their hands?" Slipping his gloves off and throwing them in the trash as he storms towards the door, pauses and glances back at you from over his shoulder. "Excuse me, Y/N-ya." His face and angered expression softened a smidge, noticeable, but there.

"Don't worry." You wave your hand in a shooing gesture. "I'll be right here. "Don't be too harsh on 'em Doctor Law." You giggle.

Law nods again, giving his back to you. His eyes darken and his long legs making quick strides in Penguin's direction who immediately backs away to give his friend and boss more room. His inked hand tightens around the handle, the metal groans as he swung the door open, his frame taking up the full space as he goes off. "What the hell are you lot stranding around for? This is a hospital. A place of medicine and healing, not an amusement park or get away."

You hear apologies flying, feet shuffling at Law's command as if he's God himself.

"Sorry Doctor!"

"Right away, Sir!"

"But I already finished my task."

"It's my break, Doc." Someone complained. "Been working since last night."

Law's jaw continues to clench and grind. "I don't want to hear excuses," he growls, causing all of them to take in their boss' demeanor. Sure, Law's a crabby, stick in the mud and can bark out harsh and cold comments, but... The Surgeon of Death looks more angry and close to snapping.

It's like he's a man possessed by the devil himself.

Bepo looks worried.

Penguin huddled closer to Shachi, whispering in his ear that you are here. The pairs shoulders shake, trying to keep in their snickers. "Caps, gone full territorial mode."

Of course, Law heard that. "What was that?" A tick mark formed on the corner of his forehead. "Are you volunteering for Clinic Duty this morning, Shachi?" He tilts his head, voice dripping in venom. "How kind of you. Now hop to it."

Penguin and Shachi flinch. Their eyes widening, meeting cold, liquid silvers.

"But Cap, it's Pen's turn.." Shachi correctly.

Law's eyes narrows. "Did I stutter?"

Shachi shuts up and followed orders.

Being left along, you were left with your thoughts and observing. You were reminded of seeing him in his blue scrubs the first night you two met.

Law seemed like the kind of angry and grumpy doctor who rarely smiled or glares and barks orders, a gorgeous asshole with a coffee addiction, clearly overworked and an insomniac.

It makes sense, that he's grouchy.

You will admit that you felt a spark rush through you when your eyes connected with his stormy, smoldering silver eyes. They're beautiful and overpowering.

You think that's the first time you've been Law's stoic mask crack into a murderous glower. Dare you say his angry expression was cute? Watching from a distance, he looked like a tiger stalking his pray, it should make you feel unnerved and scared.

You can't pull your gaze away from the scene.

Then again, this is the first time you've seen Law in his element, his work place and stomping ground. The growl and authority dripping from his deep voice causes your thighs to press together, his shoulders are tense as his inked hand tightens around the door frame, muscles flexing underneath his inked skin.

His demeanor is more intimating. His agitation vibrates through the chill in the air conditioned room, causing goosebumps to rise and spread across your skin and your nipples hardened as you bite your lower lip. Sweet mother and Christ, scold me and command me like that Doctor Law and I'm all yours. You feel your face grow inflamed as you mentally scold yourself again. Dammit, go away, naughty thoughts, go away! You yell inside your head and mentally waving your arms, growing more embarrassed. Stupid Jess! Stupid raunchy Doctor romance novel! I blame you!

Hearing the door close, your straighten your shoulders and try to act as if you weren't mentally arguing with yourself and thinking something kinky about your new, hot Doctor.

Law lowers his frame back into his seat, scooting it closer as the wheels roll across the tiled floor. He releases a huff, shoulders relaxing as he runs an inked hand through his dark, unruly tresses. "Apologies, Y/n." This close, you can see the faint dark circles underneath his eyes, become more pronounced as it brings out the color of his bewitching liquid metal orbs.

You swallow around the lump in your throat, mouth feels dry. "Can I have some water, please?"

"Of course," Law nods, standing to his feet, walks out to the nurses station and comes back with a chilled bottle of water. "Are you alright?" Offering you the water with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Yup, I'm fine." You take it and try to open it. Brows furrow as you try again. "What the hell?" Again, its not budging. "Did they glue this on or something?"

Law pressed his lips together to bite back a laugh. "Here, let me before you make a mess." He reaches out and gently, taking the plastic bottle into his hand, twisting it and like magic it opens with ease. Resealing it and handing it back to you, watching as you reach out and squeeze the offending plastic a bit too hard, not caring, if a few big, fat droplets fall and land on your thin hospital gown.

"What kind of bullshit is this?" You glare at the bottled water as you took a few gulps to quench your thirst. You blink, feeling yourself grow even more heated and re-screwing the cap. "Wow, these mood swings are seriously no joke. Oh, thank you by the way."

This time Law did laugh. "No problem, Y/n-ya." He cleared his throat while his shoulders shook as he grinned, it looks boyish and made him appear younger as he answered. "Loss of strength, hormonal changes, mood swings and fatigue are all normal during the first trimester."

"I can't exactly run to you every time I can't open a bottle of water Law." You replied, hand tightening around the bottle. "You are a busy guy. People need you."

"Yes, but I'm your doctor now and I always take good care of my patients. You are a top priority now, don't ever forget that Y/n-ya."

"Playing favorites now are we, Doctor Law?" You tease, leaning back down onto the table.

Law was tempted to say yes, but kept his mouth shut as he pulled the mini ultrasound machine closer.

He takes what looks to be a white vibrating wond, if you've ever seen one. Slipping a condom over it, opening a bottle of lube and smearing it on the device. "Now, I want you to guide this to the opening of your vagina and I'll do the rest." His tone is serious, he isn't joking.

Your eyes widen. "What?" Your face reddening.

------ End of Chapter 2 ------

💛 Chapter 1 - Coffee and Confessions

💛 Chapter 3 - Heartbeat

I know, I know, I'm late. I'm sorry! But I hope this makes up for it! The Cliff hanger was an impulse XD Gotta keep ya'll on your toes, don't I?

Happy Valentines Day, my peeps and Law!

Tag List: @m0sigma7 @angelblueflame @pandora-writes-one-piece @short-honey-badger @supreme-burrito @fanaticsnail @turtletaubwrites @cherry-queens-blog @fairymama624 @mrstraffy @kira-scarllet @strawheart-pirate @thekatisspooky @lunulatalux @physics-of-one-piece @honeyshiddendesire

[mrsarcherofinfamy]

I dunno if you take requests or not but a 18+ with Damian and maybe Jey or Rhea sister and they don’t know until he gets mad and lets it slip

●Damian Priest x Rhea's sister Reader●

________________________________________

*Y/N's POV*

Waking up in our hotel room, I look over seeing Damian naked next to me who is also naked. I roll over leaning my body against his and I start rubbing his chest with my hand making him groan.

"Why do you have to be such a morning person?"

He slightly opens his eyes looking at me. I giggle rubbing his chest and clenching my legs together over his sexy morning voice.

"Because I don't like starting my day in the afternoon like you do."

I get up and he rolls over smacking my ass causing me to turn and look at him.

"Keep it up mister and you gonna get sucked dry again."

"I don't think there is anything left after last night."

I giggle at his comment as I go to the bathroom to get a shower. I shower and come out wrapped in a towel. I grab my bag and start getting changed as Damian gets up changing as well. I changed into a Judgement Day shirt I cut up, black ripped up skinny jeans and some black platform boots.

"Wepa!"

I look over at Damian and his jaw is dropped basically drooling staring at me. I giggle and walk over to him.

"See something you like papi?"

"Oh don't call me that or we are gonna be late getting to Raw."

I smirk looking up at him running my fingers down his arm. He is wearing a Judgement Day tank top, matched with some black skinny jeans and his black boots. He grabs his bag and looks down at me.

"Ready to go before Rhea sees us both coming out of this room?"

I roll my eyes at the name of my sister. I do love my sister with all my heart but I broke her one rule she had with me when I joined Judgement Day with her. Do not date anyone in the group. Especially Damian. Me and Damian had this attraction to each other that felt like a spark when we first met but now is full blown fireworks together. I feel he is the one for me and I'm the one for him. Just Rhea doesn't know about us. I open the door and peep my head out seeing no one in the hallway until a door opens. Out comes Rhea and I close the door looking up at Damian.

"Rhea is out there. I'll go and walk with her to the hotel lobby than you come down in like 10 minutes."

He leans down and kisses me as he goes into the bathroom. I slip out the door closing it behind me, pulling my backpack straps up on my shoulders.

"Y/N!"

Rhea walks fast over to me and puts an arm around my shoulder looking at me with a smirk.

"Who did you have over last night? You guys were kinda loud. Good for you for getting over that stupid little crush you had on Damian and getting with someone else."

I shake my head at her rolling my eyes.

"So who did you get with? Was it Jey Uso? I told you that you should definitely go for him."

We walk down to the lobby as I just shake my head at her and her guesses.

"Cmon. Just tell me."

"Rhea. That is my business. Sorry."

"You are no fun."

She walks over to where Dom and Finn are waiting for us. I walk over behind her pulling out my phone.

Y/N: we are down here. You are good.

_________________________________________

*Damian's POV*

I get her text message, grab my bag and make my way out of our hotel room. As soon as I walk out, Jordan is walking past me. He stops and looks at me.

"Hey Dame."

He looks behind me at the door than looks back at me.

"Isn't that Y/N's room?"

"Jordan. You so much as tell Rhea you saw me coming out of Y/N's room, I will choke you against the wall again until you pass out. Do you understand me?"

"Yeah man. I won't say anything. Headed to the lobby?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

We walk down the hallway together and he keeps looking at me. I stop and look at him.

"If you have questions, ask them now before we meet everyone else."

"Are you banging her? I wanted to but I'm to scared of Rhea."

"Jordan. I am going to choke you. You are pushing my buttons. Me and Y/N have been dating for almost a year now. So no, you can't bang my girlfriend."

"Oh shit. You have kept this a secret from Rhea for almost a year? That takes some balls from the both of you."

"Now let's get going before they come looking for us."

We walk to the lobby together and they are all standing there waiting for us. Jordan let's out a breath shaking his head.

"I don't know how you can keep that a secret man. She is... wow."

"That's it."

I grab Jordan by his shirt and slam him against the wall causing them all to run over to us.

"Say one more thing about my woman like that and I am going to pop that big ass head of yours!"

"Woah woah woah Damian! Your woman?"

Rhea grabs my arm looking at me.

"Yeah. Y/N."

Jordan must have a death wish after saying that. Y/N comes over and puts her hand on my arm. I drop Jordan to the floor and look at Rhea taking a deep breath. Rhea looks at us both with her jaw dropped.

"Y/N. You broke my one rule about being in The Judgement Day. No dating anyone in the group. Especially Damian."

She looks down at the ground when I look at Rhea in shock. Rhea shakes her head and smiles pushing Y/N's face up to look at hers.

"But..... seeing how protective he is of you and how much he loves you. That's all that matters to me. As long as you are loved and safe, I don't mind if you date Damian."

Y/N smiles and jumps into Rhea's arms giving her a big hug. I smile, wrap my arms around both of them giving them a big hug as well. Rhea sets down Y/N as I let them go and she looks down at Jordan laying on the ground.

"What are we gonna do about him?"

I roll my eyes, lean down, pick him up and throw him over my shoulder as everyone collects their bags and heads out to the car to head to the arena.

[knight-of-flowerss]

thinking about trucker cregan storming down to the shitty pre school offering out to fight one of the other redneck dads (bonus points if he hated him during his own school days) because the dudes son pushed over or hurt his baby girl

I swear to the GODS MY ANONS ARE SO CREATIVE I LOVE THISSSS

I steered off a little cus it was kinda close to the Rickon one I have that I got after this request but completed first so I apologise 😓

Check out my other one that's linked to this that's about Rickon! Read here.

Dad!Trucker!Cregan Stark x Pregnant!Reader + their crotch goblins.

MASTERLIST

One day, Gilly came home crying. Uh oh.

Cregan wasn't home at the time, instead, he was at the bar with his friends. Yeah, a midday drinker, sue him.

But you were home. Every Wednesday, the school had a thing called 'home buddies'. This was a thing that they would get all the kids in pre-school and see where they live, thereby grouping them with kids nearby and a teacher would walk them all home in their area.

You had gotten Denny and Ned midway through the day. Denny was only two so he had half days and Ned was ill so you were stuck with the baby and the maniac for the whole day until your other two came home.

From the moment you opened the door, Gilly ran past you, storming up to her room, tears streaming down her face. Rickon just awkwardly shuffled in and you're met with a sheepish teacher at the door.

"Uhm, hello ma'am.. I'm Mr Velaryon- Laenor Velaryon." He holds his hand out but you don't shake it. Just saying your name before speaking again, "Why is my daughter comin' in cryin'?"

Laenor winces slightly at the tone, taking in a deep breath as he tries to figure out how to go about this.

"Miss Stark.." Stark. Clearly he just went off the kids last name. "There was an incident when we were walking in our group.." He watches you cross your arms, leaning against the door.

Your eyebrow quirks as you urge him to continue. "A boy had tugged on Gilliane's hair. Lightly, at first, but when we reached his house, he pulled harder which made her cry."

"So she's been cryin' all the way from his 'ouse t' ours? So y've let 'er cry f' blocks?" You move from the wall, stepping forwards, anger tainting your voice. "No! No, he-.. he only lives a few houses down, trust me, we did not just let her cry, we told his parents too."

You hum in recognition, nodding your head before stepping back and grabbing the door, "'ll deal with this later. Thanks mister."

You close the door on Laenor, not even letting him say anything in return.

Later on, when Cregan had finally returned home in his truck, even though he had been drinking. You sat with him and Gilly as you braided her hair while she relayed the story onto her father who was less than impressed.

Cregan was ready to storm down there on the Thursday morning and demand to know who it was that hurt his little girl but, they came to you before you could go to them.

A knock came from the door. Cregan stood up and opened it to be met with Michael. A dad from down the street, and a man he went to school with.

Who of which Cregan was less than fond of.

"Hey man, jus' wanted to swing by so my boy can apologise t' your little girl." Michael tries to smile at him, seemingly trying to ease Cregan since he knew his temper.

Cregan's eyes flicker from Michael to his son. Jonathan? John? Joseph? One of them.. he thinks. "So he's the lil' shit that 'urt m' lil' girl?"

Michael sighs, moving himself in front of his son, "Dude, c'mon.. there's no need f' that.. Joe jus' wants to say sorry." Joe. So that's the fuckers name.

Before Cregan can spit another cruel word out, you appear from behind, your hand moving to his bicep, squeezing softly.

Ever the mediator, you move yourself in front of Cregan, like being a barrier between the dad and his kid and your furious boyfriend.

Michael's eyebrows furrow as he looks at you, "And- and who are you? Huh? His little sister? I thought Sara moved from this shit show Cregan."

That's one thing that got brought up a lot. Being almost half Cregan's age, you got mistaken for someone other than his partner a lot, something that Cregan has gotten mad about in the past.

"Uh- no, you ignorant fuck. 'm the mother t' the girl that your son decided t' pick on today." You cross your arms, glaring at him like a guard dog.

Michael's smile falls slightly. He had never really knew Sara anyways, she was two years below him and four below Cregan. So when he had heard this news that you were in fact his baby mama, he was.. more than confused.

A woman so much younger than him? He had always knew Cregan was.. well.. Cregan. But he would’ve never suspected him of being one of those men.

But, he pulls his concentration back to the conversation when you speak again. "Hello? Are y' gonna make 'im apologise or what?"

Michael just coughs and nods his head, moving himself behind Joe instead, who looked shy and embarrassed.

You turn to tell Cregan to call Gilly but you caught her behind her father's leg when you turned.

Instead, you look back to the boy with a look that screamed 'mama bear', "Go on."

Joe fumbled with something behind his back before moving it around and jutting it infront of himself, towards Gilly.

A card.

"'m sorry Gilliane!" Joe says, maybe a little too loud, with his eyes squeezed shut. Gilly slowly moved from Cregan's legs to grab the card, trying to read even though she wasn't the best at it.

In scribbly writing, you could just barely make out the words "To Gilly. Im sorry! I love you! From Joe." With a big elongated heart on the other side, you know exactly what I'm talking about lmao.

You stifle a laugh behind your hand as Cregan just stares at the boy like the protective father he is. Gilly's face flushes red as she reads it.

You expect her to just say 'it's alright' and then the whole ordeal is over, but you couldn't be further from the truth.

Gilly moves forward, hugs Joe and says "It's alright, I forgive you Joe!" With a smile on her face before pulling back from the hug and kissing him.

Just a small peck, like kids do, but it was enough for Cregan to move from behind you. Without batting an eye, you move your hand behind you and push at his chest.

"Alright, enough. Stop it. Now." Cregan says from behind you, trying to talk over your stifled laughter. It was clear that he was very uncomfortable with whatever just happened.

"Yeah, yeah, y' sour puss. Calm down." You grin, turning your head to look at him. "Shut up." He mumbled, moving down to wrap his hand around his daughter's torso, pulling her backwards and away from Joe.

"Thank you, Joe. That was real kind 'f you son." You grin at him, "Bye bye now." You wave at the boy before moving the two backwards and shutting the door.

"What the actual fuck was that?" Was the first thing that came out of Cregan's mouth. You laugh loudly in his face, clearly amused by the situation.

"What happened is that y' daughter is jus' like 'er mama. She's got the looks that drive the boys wild." You snicker as you walk, or more like hobble, away with your daughter as she blushes fiercely.

Leaving your man just standing there, furious but his mouth hung open like a goldfish.

Did ya'll see the Shawn Michaels homage I made at the end? 🫣🤭

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @cryinonthefloor553

[gojoidyll]

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Part 26 | quelled fears

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Infinity Masterlist

“Will he really be ok?”

Her voice rung out as she watched Itadori leave with Nanami, Gojo stood next to her silently with that same charming smile on his, “he’ll be fine. He’s a tough kid.”

“If you say so…,” she muttered. Truth be told, she was still worried.

“Now,” Gojo exclaimed as he clapped his hands together, “what should we do for the rest of the day.”

She smiled and quirked an eyebrow up, “don’t we have classes to teach?”

He pouted instantly, “why can’t we just ditch it and go on a date instead?”

“Because I don’t want to get fired,” she answered as she grabbed his hand and started to tug him along. Gojo scoffed in response, “please, they will be insane if they let someone like you go.”

Laughing at his words, she pulled him close so he was walking right next to her, “whatever you say, Satoru.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his smile grow bigger, “something funny, mister?”

He shook his head, “not at all, I just like it when you say my name.”

She rolled her eyes, “you’re so weird sometimes. Now, come on before our students miss us.”

“You two are so late.”

Y/n smiled sheepishly as Nobara glared at both y/n and Gojo, “listen, I know you two are all lovey dovey now, but my time is precious!”

Fushiguro stood idly next to her, not much caring for the tardiness as he was already used to it.

“Right, sorry,” y/n said, “we were just meeting up with another sorcerer was all.”

Nobara rolled her eyes, “we’re not little kids, you know? You don’t have to use excuses when you really lost time because you were making out with one another-“

“Kugisaki,” y/n said exasperated.

Meanwhile, Gojo was pouting in the corner. Honestly, making out with y/n and being late would have been a whole lot better than meeting up with Nanami.

“Whatever, so what are we doing today?”

Y/n looked over to Gojo, but he was still pouting causing Kugisaki to angrily march over to him, “hey! We’re talking to you!”

“No need to get impatient,” he said as he raised both of his hands in defense.

“Then tell us what we’re doing-“

“You’re training with the second years!”

Gojo said it excitedly as he clapped his hands together. And as expected… there was no excited reaction to follow suit.

“Where’s the enthusiasm?! You two should be excited!”

“Why are we training with them?”

Gojo grinned and looked to Fushiguro who already pieced together what was happening.

“Is it to go up against the other school?”

“Correct! Two points to Megumi!”

Y/n laughed to herself as she thought back to her own school days as Gojo explained to a confused Nobara about what was going to go down. Going up against the sister school was always fun!

“Ok… so we basically need to kick their ass, right?”

“Bingo! Two points to Nobara! Now, you are currently set to meet up with the second tomorrow at the training field. Which concludes our lesson for the-“

“But we didn’t do anything-“

“Our job here is done!”

Gojo was quick to grab a hold of y/n as he gave his two students a little wave before teleporting away.

“That jerk,” Nobara huffed.

Meanwhile, y/n was gripping onto the front of Gojo’s shirt tightly when he teleported them both to his apartment.

“Satoru,” she whined.

“Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t resist,” he said as he held her close.

She looked up at him, “at least warn me next- mmph!”

He cut her off instantly by pressing his lips hard against her own. And he didn’t let up. Anytime he pulled back to get a breath in, he was already diving back in to kiss her. His lips simply devouring her as he refused to let her go from his hold.

“Satour,” she managed to say between his searing lips, “what’s gotten into you?”

“Just wanting to be late because we’re making out,” he said simply, his lips molding into her own. And when he bit into your bottom lip, his teeth snagging on the flesh as he gave it a gentle tug, she whimpered causing him to move forward a bit in search of something. It wasn’t until she felt her back press hard against the hallway wall that he found what he was looking for. His hands moving down to grip her hips, “jump,” he muttered letting go of her lip.

She wanted to do as he said, but her legs felt wobbly. Her grip on his forearms could only tighten as he smirked. So, with controlled ease, he lifted her up.

“A few kisses got you weak in the knees,” he teased as she wrapped her legs around his waist, “how adorable.”

His teasing words didn’t last long as he slotted his lips with hers again. His teeth biting at her lips again as she got the silent message and opened her mouth. Her movements were a little hesitant, scared, but he was quick to quell her fears when he shoved his tongue into her mouth.

He didn’t like the closeness she had with Nanami.

He didn’t like Sukuna’s continual taunts and blatant remarks.

He especially didn’t like the fact that there was a possibility that y/n could remember everything.

And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not right now, at least. Not when he finally has some time with her away from everyone else and no one to interrupt.

“S- satoru,” she moaned his name out when he pulled away from her slightly. Their mouths still so close together as their breaths mixed and a single string of saliva connected them.

“Again. Say my name like that again.”

And who knows, maybe she’ll quell his own fears too by saying his name just like that.

[me-and-your-husband]

widow's bite (1) || e. williams

summary: "...the dangerous Black Widow is to be approached with caution, as the Black Widow's bite can cause death. she encases her victims with silk, then kills with poison from her fangs."

or

you're a black widow. you're sent to kill Spider-Woman. something inside of you just can't do it.

warnings: smut in future chapters, ellie is 18 and reader is 19, dreykov being gross which is canon, mentions of suicide attempt, canon death (sarah), swearing maybe? probs more, not proofread cause i'm lazy

word count: 4k

a/n: soooo i got this request and although it took FOREVER for me to write it, i was so excited that i just had to make it a series...i SWEARRR i'll try to update regularly but going back to uni is kicking my ass a little. also, ellie is basically mcu!peter. some of the avengers may make appearances. tony isn't dead.

You stood tall in front of the massive screen in his office. Videos of a girl in a red and black suit swinging through New York City illuminated your solemn features. At the top of the screen, there were only a few words: Spider-Woman: TERMINATE.

“She keeps coming so close to discovering our New York base,” Dreykov’s accent spread through the dark room. “I can’t have her getting in the way of my work. This is important.”

You nodded, eyes never leaving the screen.

“You will bring her body back to me. She seems to have some sort of abilities, abilities I can use to make you stronger. Better.” His thick hand slithered up your shoulder. “Do you copy?”

“I copy.”

His lips twisted into a sinister smile, his gross breath hot on your cheek. “Always so obedient.” He licked his lips.

He smiled, “You take off…” he glanced at his watch, “right now. I don’t want to see you again until she's dead,” he spat in your ear.

“Yes, sir.”

"Hey! Come back, mister criminal!”

Faint thwips filled the air as Ellie swung past corporate building after corporate building, chasing some burglar who happened to try robbing Delmar’s when she was ordering sandwiches for her and Joel. He would have to wait. She was just lucky she had her suit under her clothes.

He booked it down the sidewalk, cash flying out of the duffle bag, throwing pedestrians to the side as he tried escaping Spider-Woman.

She grunted as she dodged semi-trucks and cars, bikers and typical New York tourists. She almost lost sight of him when he turned a corner, but she could still hear his laboured breathing.

She could sense that he had stopped, under the impression that he had thrown her off his trail. He was resting in an alley up against an apartment building. Climbing to the roof, she perched herself on top as she looked down at him, hands on his knees as he panted.

“Hey, man, I think you forgot this!” She yelled as she dropped next to him. Before he could react, she cocooned him in webbing and left him stuck against the wall.

“You got a pen by any chance?” She asked, to which she had to dodge a ball of spit directed at her head. “Should've guessed.”

She pulled her calculus notebook out of her backpack with one of her good pens and scribbled a note on it:

“This is the one that robbed the bodega. I think you should cut old Delmar a tax break for his troubles.

Love,

Spider-Woman”

She called it into the station and webbed the note to the criminal, webbing his mouth shut too while she was at it.

As she walked out of the alley muttering “all in a day’s work”, she heard the faint pleas of a small child. Letting her heightened senses guide her, she swung until she found the source coming from an open window in a different apartment complex.

She slid the window open far enough to get inside, putting her hands out in front of her when the child noticed her and was frightened.

“No no no! Just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Woman, not gonna hurt you! I promise,” she said, getting to the little girl's level. The girl’s eyes softened and she seemed to trust Ellie.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, lip trembling. “My sister…please help.”

“Okay, where is she now?”

The little girl pointed outside of her door, “The kitchen.”

Ellie took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to go help her. You stay right here, okay? Don’t move.”

Something inside of her told her that something was wrong. She brushes it off as someone else being in danger.

As she creeps out of the child’s room, she surveys her surroundings. It looked like a regular New York apartment, a little messy, but nothing her and Joel’s place hadn't seen. Everything was fine.

Until it wasn't.

She suddenly had difficulty breathing when you jumped from somewhere above and wrapped your legs around her neck, squeezing. You elbowed her head repeatedly.

She grabbed you by your hips and threw you off of her, gasping for breath. Her naivety still told her that you needed help.

Was it her naivety?

“Calm down, lady! I’m trying to help you!” she said, still gasping. She watched the girl scurry past her and over to you. “I thought I said—”

She stopped talking when she saw you hand the girl a twenty, eyes still trained on Spider-Woman.

Once you knew the child was a safe distance away, you attacked. His voice rang in the back of your head. No casualties. No witnesses.

You lunged at her, hands finding her throat.

“Woah, at least take me on a date first,” she remarked as she easily slid out of your grasp, jumping up to the ceiling and latching on. She webbed your left arm to the wall. You let out a grunt of dissatisfaction as you squeezed your fist, a blade coming out of your cuff and slicing through the web. It was installed in all of the Widows’ suits in case of capture.

“Oh. That's pretty cool, honestly,” she said as she dodged a bullet from your pistol, flipping down from the roof. You charged her again, this time taking out her legs and pinning to the ground. You threw a hook right at her jaw, to which she exclaimed “Ow!”, catching the next one with ease. Your eyes widened as she flipped the two of you over, pinning you underneath her.

“Look, I don't want to—”

Before she could finish, you had sent electric currents through your suit, effectively tazing her.

In her incapacitation, you were able to flip over again and pressure your knee against her neck. While she struggled for air, her legs flailed underneath her. She managed to knee you in the stomach, opening up an opportunity to throw you off her. You both stood up, ready to go at it again, both slightly out of breath.

“Are you gonna say something?” Silence. “Can you even talk?”

She lunged forward in an attempt to pull down the mask that covered half of your face, a piece of fabric resting atop the bridge of your nose. Before she could grab it, you grabbed her wrists, locating her web cartridges. You released another electric current, frying them.

She stepped back, trying to shoot webs, but to no avail. That's when she saw the text on the bicep of your suit: WIDOW-893. “Shit!”

You threw a swift kick into her abdomen while she was caught off guard and knocked her down to her knees. Her eyes widened as you threw punches at her face, too dazed to think of blocking. When she finally grabbed your fist, she could feel the blood from her nose leaking through her mask and could taste metal.

“You’re a Widow? Like Nat?”

You struggled to get your hand out of her grasp. Instead, you pushed all your weight forward and landed on top of her chest, pinning her arms.

You reached forward and slid your fingers under the fabric of her mask. She struggled underneath you, but you had her pinned and she wasn't going anywhere.

You basked in her struggle, slowly sliding the mask off her face.

“I was sent to kill you.”

“So you do talk. Wait—”

“And that's what I’m going to do.”

“Please don't take my mask off. Please. Please don't kill me. Oh god, I have so much to live for, please—!”

You slipped her mask off completely to be met with her perfectly curved and soft lips, her delicate green eyes, and her pretty freckles, her auburn hair messy from having it under the mask. Her brows furrowed and she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for it to happen. When it didn't, she slowly opened one eye, and then the other. She was met with you admiring her face, gaze raking over her features.

Your eyes were wide and seemed slightly glassy, and she couldn't help but wonder why they looked so distant. Why it looked like you were trapped behind them.

She realized you weren't pinning her down anymore. She loosened an arm slowly from underneath you and brought it up to the fabric around your face, gently beginning to tug the mask down.

Your cold grasp on her wrist stopped her. “Don't.”

“Why not?” She whispered.

You tore your gaze away from her, standing up. You turned your back to her.

Looking back at her once more, you said, “Because it will end badly."

You moved to leave through the window, but a thought stopped you briefly

The truth is, you didn't know what to do. It's like you had just gained free will, like she had broken some spell. You had thought you were operating on your own terms until now.

You'd been sent to take out powerful men, some women, usually old, usually established, usually somewhat corrupt. But when you saw the fear in the eyes of a girl your age, your body shocked you back into free will.

Your back still to the girl, you just shook your head and jumped.

She coughed as she pushed herself up off the ground and shoved the mask back down over her face, wondering if she'd ever see you again. If she'd ever find out who you really are.

“This is WIDOW-893,” you said into your comm-link, talking to an obscure agent you'd probably never meet. “I need an extraction. I’m sending you my location now.”

Static sounded in your ear before a harsh male voice began, “Has the mission been completed?”

You elected to ignore the question.

“Has the target been eliminated?”

More silence as you hunted for a place to lay low for a bit.

“Widow, has the target been eliminated?!” The agent’s frustration was palpable in his voice.

You swallowed. “Negative.”

“What do you mean, negative? This mission was of utmost— Sorry? Yes, sir.” Some keyboard clicks. “She can hear you now.”

“893, why wasn't your mission completed?” Dreykov’s invigorated voice droned through the comm. You searched for an excuse that wouldn't get you terminated. Or worse.

“The target seems to have heightened senses. She was able to get the jump on me before I was in position. My identity was almost discovered so I was forced to retreat.”

Dreykov let out a pained sigh. Slowly, he said, “I’m only going to tell you this once, agent, so listen very carefully. You are disposable. The mission must proceed, regardless of your comfort. We can easily terminate you and move on to the next Widow. Copy?”

“I copy.”

“Now, if this happens again, I will have you terminated. You get a pass this time because you're one of the…finer specimens we have. You will not be sent an extraction. You will complete this mission in terminating Spider-Woman. Do not make contact until then,” he said, and you could almost feel his hands slithering up your back and around your neck. “And don't think you're not being watched.”

With that, the connection was severed.

Ellie threw the soggy McDonald’s bag down on the kitchen table as Joel stood at the sink washing dishes.

“Couldn't get sandwiches from Delmar’s. Poor guy got robbed again,” she said as she began digging in the bag for her fries.

Joel turned around to give her a shocked look. “Someone’s gotta look out for the people in this city. Lord knows the cops ain’t doin' much,” he said, shaking his head.

“Well…Spider-Woman looks out for people,” Ellie said, tearing the waters. Joel never really sided with J. Jonah Jameson from that stupid news station, but he was never really for the “vigilante” either.

He sighed. “Look, Ellie…I know you think Spider-Woman is cool and all, and I think it's good that she looks out for the normal people of New York, but I think it's irresponsible. I mean, I’m sure she's got people in her life that love her and she’s puttin’ her life at risk seven days a week,” he said as he dried the dishes and put them away.

“Yeah but,” Ellie said through a mouthful of fries, “If you had that power, wouldn't you be responsible for using it for good?”

“Yes, I suppose. But with great power comes great responsibility, Ellie. And with responsibility comes an immense need for balance. Remember that,” he said, turning to look at her.

Ellie swallowed the last few fries as she took a moment to digest what Joel had said. She gave him a meaningful smile before he turned back around to put the last few dishes away.

She couldn't help but think about your “power”. Was it given to you, or forced on you? How did you become so skilled? You were her age, or at least not far off. She’d never met someone so close to her age who held such a huge responsibility. But was it really a responsibility if you were being forced into it?

She knew she'd probably never come across you again, so there wasn't really a reason to overthink it. Right now, she just wanted to finish her Physics homework and watch The Empire Strikes Back with Jesse.

Weeks had gone by and every moment plagued your mind with thoughts of Ellie. Or rather, if you had it in yourself to kill her.

Your immense training in Covert Ops was indeed handy for situations like these. You shadowed Ellie almost 24/7. You followed her on her commute to her high school, which you noted to be Midtown. You surveilled her through the cameras you'd planted in all of her classes. You followed her after school to the alley where she'd leave her school stuff and switch to her second life. You climbed from building to building as you followed her web-slinging as closely as possible without being seen. You searched and searched for something to justify it, something to prove she's a bad person and deserves to be terminated. But nothing. Nothing when she helped old ladies carry their groceries inside, or rescue little girls' cats from trees, or stop lecherous men from harassing women on the street. Especially nothing when you spied through her living room window and saw her laughing with her dad every Sunday morning.

Three weeks after your first attempt at termination, you had stumbled across the perfect moment to investigate your target’s bedroom. She was at a field trip to the Museum of Modern Art with her class, and her dad was at work.

Around noon, you whistled as you climbed the stairs to the apartment, smiling softly as you find the right one. You knock for good measure, and when nobody answers you slide two bobby pins out from your hair when to pick the lock. Classic, but it always works.

When you open the door you lock it again from the inside so nothing would seem astray. You feel an uncomfortable, throbbing pain in your chest as you look around at the framed portraits of your target and her dad, lots from when she was young. One of her holding a medal in a soccer jersey. One of them at a planetarium together. One of them with a model dinosaur in the background, a hat atop its head, both of them grinning.

You creep through the hallway, looking for one room in particular. Opening the first door, you enter an office space. You decide it might be useful in gathering intel on her family.

You slide open a drawer of the filing cabinet labelled “records”. There seemed to be two sections, one for her father’s business, and one for their personal records. The latter had significantly less material. You slid out the folders and placed them on the desk, taking a seat in the chair.

The first folder read: ADOPTION RECORDS

You skimmed the papers and deduced that about five years ago, a man named Joel Miller (presumably the target’s father) and a woman named adopted a girl named Ellie Williams, but had fostered her long before that with a woman named Theresa Servopoulos, the word “deceased” in brackets next to her name. Anna Williams, her single mother, died shortly after childbirth and a woman named Marlene took her in. However, Marlene gave her up to a foster home once she hit school age.

Another folder read: MEDICAL RECORDS

Ellie had a long history of optometry visits prior to about two years ago, then they just suddenly stopped. There was nothing else really interesting in her file.

Joel, however, was a different story. Medical records that yellowed and flaked at the edges sat in his file from over 20 years ago. He was admitted for a self inflicted GSW to the head shortly after the death of his daughter, Sarah Miller. He was admitted to a psychiatric ward by request of his brother, Tommy Miller, shortly after.

Another file read: ELLIE’S SCHOOL RECORDS

It was evident that Ellie had excelled in school ever since she had settled in with Joel, specifically in the math and science areas. Her transcripts highlighted a bright 4.0 gpa. She had a bright future.

Now with a name for your target, you decided to search her room to gain some more personal intel. Tucking the files away and closing the drawers, you stalked out of the office and down the hall to what was Ellie’s room (the words “Ellie’s Room!” scrawled on a banner on the door making it painfully easy).

The door creaked slightly when you pushed it open. You were immediately hit with the vague sent of pine and mahogany. Dirty flannels and socks were piled in a corner or sometimes littered around the room. An empty ramen cup sat on her nightstand. Notebooks and textbooks filled with complex calculations sat open on her book. Her blankets were peeled back, revealing astronaut bedsheets. “Cute,” you thought.

The cracked open window let in a nice breeze. The light blue walls were littered in posters, photos, and banners. Next to a lesbian flag above her bed were photos of her and the two friends she was always with. Plastered around her room were covers of comics, something called Savage Starlight. There were silly math reference posters, Star Wars posters, and just about everything you would never expect from a crime fighting vigilante.

Her laptop was left open, and a few clicks and an easy password guess later, the screen unlocked to Ellie’s web browser. Her search history made your brows furrow. You expected to find “How to buy weed NYC” or “porn” at the very least.

Search: Is there more than one Black Widow?

Search: Natasha Romanoff history

Search: The Red Room

Search: Dreykov The Red Room

Search: Dreykov Russia

Search: Black Widow Assassins

Search: Natasha Romanoff Phone Number

She had been researching you. Hell, she hadn't done a very good job by the looks of it. And did she really think The Black Widow’s phone number was public information?

You grabbed a figurine from Ellie’s desk and toyed with it as you took a moment to think. Was it really worth taking the life of an innocent girl just for the sustenance of your organization? Was it even your organization? It's not like you could remember how you got there. It's not like you remembered your family, or your friends, or what it was like to have them… It wasn't so bad if you didn't really have anything to compare it to, right?

A soft pressure around your ankles made you look down. Silky webbing coated your boots.

“Sit down,” her voice came from near the window. You turned as much of your body as you could and watched as Ellie gestured to her desk chair. With no choice but to oblige, you sat. She webbed your arms to the armrests, not taking any chances.

She spun the chair to face her direction and then leaned back against the window.

“What do you want with me?” She inquired, green eyes searing into yours.

“I told you. My mission is to-”

“No. If you were going to kill me, I’d be dead already.” Good point.

You broke eye contact and looked around her room dramatically. “Cute room. I like the flag.”

“Tell me what you want with me,” she said, stalking closer to your chair. “I’m not asking this time.”

“What happened to the ‘friendly neighbourhood Spider-Woman’ I met? Do you rest all your guests like this?” You quipped.

“Yeah? Well, forgive me if I’m not so friendly to the one who tried to kill me, has been stalking me for weeks, and broke into my apartment.”

You roll your eyes.

Her large hand wraps around your jaw, forcing you to look in her eyes.

“Roll your eyes one more time and see what happens,” she growls. “Now tell me.”

You jerk your jaw away and kick her in the stomach, enough time for you to effectively sever the webs around your wrists and ankles.

“Fuck, I forgot about those,” Ellie says under her breath as she webs her bedroom door completely shut and stands in front of the window to block your exit.

“Move,” you demand.

“Nope.”

“Move. Or this won't end well for either of us.”

“Nah, I think I’ll just stay right here ‘till you tell me what you want with me.”

You charged her, attempting to throw her to the side and leap through the window she entered through, but she's stronger. She's like brick as she pushes you back.

“Just let me go. I’ve made up my mind anyways. I’m done with you.”

“No can do. I’m not in the habit of letting pretty girls who try to kill me go so easily,” she said, and you felt your cheeks heating up. She webbed the window shut and sat down in her bed, gesturing to her desk chair again. “Come on. I just want to know what your people want with me. Then you can go, I promise.”

You knew it wouldn't hurt to tell her. You'd have to go on the run from Dreykov anyways. Rip your tracker out and all. So you sat and watched as she reached into a drawer in her nightstand and pulled out a pack of peanut M&Ms.

“Want some?” She asked as she peeled it open. You shook your head and she shrugged. “More for me, then.”

“What do you want to know?” You asked.

“Start from the beginning.”

You cleared your throat. “I was given the mission to find you and-”

“No. I get that part, I’m not stupid. I want to know how this happened to you. And how I can help you out of it."

permanent tags:

@winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs

ellie taglist:

@chrry1ovr @milly-louise @dankpunks @starhrtz @pedrobaby @urlocalgingersnap @wrendermedone @kissyslut @felsweb @darleneslane

a slash thru your user means i'm unable to tag you!

taglists

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Nora: You know, between Bleiss and Bluby, I'm pretty happy I'm an only child! Wouldn't want a Dark Version of Myself creeping up on me! You don't have a dark twin, do you Fearless Leader?

Jaune: What? Me? NO! HAHAHAH! I Only have Seven Sisters! Nothing about a Half-Sibling AT ALL!

Nora: ... Who said anything about a Half Sibling?

The door breaks open as someone kicks it in. They are a Young man, half an inch taller than Jaune with short, feathery, Jet black hair. He wear a thick, black Leather jacket, Jeans, Heeled boots, and Aviators with a gunmetal scarf around his neck.

???: *swaggering up to and hooking an arm around Jaune* Well Well Well Golden Boy~ Lookin' good for a runt~

Jaune: *removing the man's arm* ... Dawne. How have you been?

Dawne: What? No Love for the Brother, Lil' Bro?

Jaune: You are not even an hour Older than me! And you're not my brother!

Dawne: You're dad and my dad are one in the same~ Just Chill Shortstop!

Jaune: gods give me patience.

Dawne: What? That confident in your strength? And you say I have an Ego!

Jaune: If the gods gave me Strength, you'd be in the hospital.

Dawne: Ah Man, Don't be like that! 'Sides, a little birdie told me you're in a with a lot of hot broads~

Jaune: ... Dawne, listen to me, and listen to me well.

Jaune: If you do anything to my friends that they don't like, they will only get the chance to kill you if I don't end you first.

Dawne: ...

Dawne: *Looking over his sunglasses, dark brown eyes shining* Damn. You're serious.

Dawne: Fine. Your friends are off limits. That list can't be too long.

Nora: Uh, Hi, Hello! he's not lying, Most of us will break your legs if you try anything! Who are you and why are you here?

Dawne: I'm-

Jaune: This is Dawne Angeles, My half brother. My parents had a threesome, and nine months later the two of us were born to separate mothers. He's been a pain in my butt my whole life. As for why he's here ...

Jaune: Why are you here?

Dawne: Transferred from Haven! The other half of my team should be here Soon~

Jaune: Other half?

???: Hello.

J+N: AH!

A young woman with shoulder length teal hair, roughly Nora's height gingerly steps in. She's wearing a full, fancy, modest (In terms of visible skin) Victorian maid's outfit. The long skirt swished just enough to see the high heels she wore.

???: *curtsying* My apologies for frightening you. My name is Eren Jötunn.

Eren: I am the second of our team, and I would like to apologize for the roughness my teammate is displaying and speaking with, though i have been told that that is often how sibling treat each other, in which case you may ignore my apology.

Eren: Mister Angeles, please join me in the walk to the Airship Docks. I'm certain our Partners will be here shortly.

Dawne: Hey frostbite, we don't need to worry, They'll send us a message-

Eren: *Stamps the ground, standing tall* Mister Angeles, I would suggest That you join me in the walk to the Airship docks.

Dawne: ... *sigh* Fine. *pats Jaune on the shoulder* See you 'round, golden boy.

Jaune: Yeah, Yeah, Whatever.

Jaune: I'm glad that maid-girl swung by. She seems chill.

Jaune: Nora?

Nora: She Looked like my mom.

Jaune: What?

Nora: I- I look like my mom, but she looks like my mom too.

Jaune: ... Oh Crabapples.

~~~~~

Dawne has a Greatsword-Battlerifle called "Horizon Line", and Eren fights with a Longbow, coating her Arrows in dust, and a Shortsword on her side.

Eren's Semblance "Thermal Dynamo" Allows her to suck the heat out of air (or thing she's touching) and use it to boost her combat prowess. This is extremely taxing and makes the air around her much, MUCH Colder.

I have no ideas for the other half of Anti-Jnpr.