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fxrmuladaydreams · 1 year ago

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make it work (mv33)

max x reader , george x reader (platonic) , toto x reader (paternal)

summary: you and max try to find a way to make your now very public relationship work

prev part

The following days after the Twitter reveal are spent staying inside Max’s apartment. Neither of you really leaves unless absolutely necessary. There’s a thick tension in the air now as well, as if you’re both walking on broken glass.

When it’s finally time for the next grand prix and your meeting with Toto you and Max discuss how you’re going to enter the paddock. In fear of making things worse you make the decision to not go in together, that way there’s less of a chance you’ll be swarmed by reporters.

You come in with George, who’s quick to put an arm over your shoulders and steer you away from any cameras.

“Netflix would have a field day.” He says under his breath as he pulls you towards the Mercedes building.

George lets you go once you’ve made it inside, looking around at all of the other Mercedes employees. Some of them give you weird looks, like they’re judging you, but most give you sympathetic glances, as if they know how all of this is going to play out.

You watch all of the media panels throughout the day. Whenever asked about your relationship Lewis says he had no idea what was going on, George says it was a surprise to everyone but he wishes the best for all parties involved, and Max snaps that he’s only there to talk about racing, nothing else.

Max meets with you after press is done for the day, the two of you heading into the Mercedes building to speak with Toto.

George exits the office just as you’re about to go in. He gives you a sympathetic smile and squeezes your hand.

You enter the office with Max behind you. Sitting behind the desk is Toto, looking down at some paperwork. Standing next to him is Christian Horner. You’re surprised to see the two of them together and not biting each other’s heads off.

“Sit.” Toto gestures to the two chairs at the opposite side of the desk. He looks up at you as you sit down, and tosses his glasses onto the desk.

You all stare at each other in silence for a moment, as if deciding who should speak first. Toto is the one to break the silence.

“Do the two of you realize what kind of trouble you have caused us?” His asks quietly. His eyes travel back and forth between you and Max. He sighs and leans back in his chair. “I can’t fire George, he’s still got a few years on his contract.” He points at Max. “I can’t fire you, because you’re not my driver.” Then he looks at you. “But Y/n, you are my assistant. You are the person I entrust with handling a lot of work that would be detrimental to the team if a rival were to find out.”

“I swear I haven’t said anything about anything.” You shake your head.

“It’s true.” Max chimes in. “She hasn’t spilled any secrets. It wouldn’t matter anyway though, seeing as I’m driving the better car.”

Christian laughs, only stopping when Toto gives him a stern look.

“The point is the two of you need to sort this out. Tell everyone that this was just a fling and it’s over.” Toto says.

“That’s not happening.” Max crosses his arms over his chest.

Christian sighs. “I told you he was stubborn.”

He looks at Max who just stares back up at him. You’d seen moments between the two of them before. They shared a father-son type of relationship. It was clear that Christian truly cared for Max and only wanted the best for him.

“We’re not breaking up. So find another solution to your problem.” Max looks back at Toto.

Toto glances back at you. “Y/n, I’d like to speak with you alone.”

Christian walks towards the door while Max turns to you.

“I’ll be fine.” You nod, giving him a soft smile.

He stands up, leans down to kiss the top of your head, then follows Christian out.

“That’s quite the headstrong young man.” Toto pulls your attention back to him.

“He cares about the people he loves.”

“And he loves you?” Toto raises a brow.

You feel your face heat up. “I mean, I think so. He’s sweet to me. He takes care of me.”

“And you love him?”

“Yes.” The answer comes out quicker than you expected.

Toto sighs, then stands up and walks to the front of his desk, leaning against it. “I care about you Y/n. You’re the first assistant I’ve had that’s been able to keep up with all the work I’ve piled on them. You get along well with both Lewis and George. You’re a lovely person. But dating Max Verstappen is a line I didn’t think you’d cross.”

You sink down in your seat, just waiting for the final blow.

“I trust that you haven’t given him any information about us. And I believe that you do for some reason truly care about that menace of a boy outside.” He nods towards the door. “So I’m sure that there’s a way we can make sure this works for everyone.”

You sit up straighter as your eyes search Toto’s for any chance that he’s lying.

“Really?”

“You’ll both beed to sign a few NDAs, but I’m sure it will be manageable.” He nods.

Before you can stop yourself, you stand up and wrap your arms around Toto, pulling him into a hug. He slowly pats your shoulders, returning your hug in an awkward way.

“Thank you. Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.” Your eyes well up with tears.

“We’ll see. Just make sure I don’t see a Red Bull driver wandering around our garage.” He says with a smile.

You nod, then exit Toto’s office. Max leans against the wall next to the door, not having even left the hall. He cups your face with his hands. “You’re crying. What happened?”

“Nothing, they’re good tears.” You grin at him. “You were right. Everything’s okay.”

He smiles. “When have I ever been wrong?” He wraps his arms around your waist.

He leans down to kiss you just as the door to the office swings open.

“No Red Bull drivers allowed in the Mercedes building. Out.” Toto nods down the hall.

Over the next few days lawyers draw up NDAs for both you and Max to sign. He complains about it while you scribble your name on the papers. He signs just under your name though, promising he won’t reveal any secret Red Bull information to you.

It feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders after you sign the forms, like you’re no longer buried under this huge secret anymore.

You can walk through the paddock hand in hand now. You can give him a good luck kiss before he has to go to his garage. And you can finally be there to celebrate his wins with him.

The Red Bull photographers snap a photo of the two of you after that race. Max tugs his helmet off his head, then practically runs over to you. You stand with the other Mercedes staff, your white polo clashing with his blue race suit. His hair is pointing in all different directions, and his skin shines with sweat, but the smile on his face is breathtaking. He pulls you into a kiss over the fence. It’s sloppy, and uncoordinated, and the crowd screams their heads off.

Later that night you see a notification from Instagram. It’s a shared post, from both Red Bull and Mercedes.

redbullracing and mercedesamgf1

liked by georgerussell63 and 58,635 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 and yourusername

redbullracing Our favorite couple on the grid 💙❤️ + 🩵🤍

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #formula one x reader #formula one #mv33

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anotherstudtouse · 2 months ago

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What Are Friends For?

CHAPTER 1

SUMMARY: When your coworker, Lex Foster, asks you to pretend to be her girlfriend, you agree against your better judgement.

WARNINGS: None that I can think of?

Toy Zone -- As many complaints as you have about the place and its owner, it was one of the only places hiring seven months ago when you desperately needed some extra cash to help pay for the online classes you were taking. It wasn't much -- and still isn't -- but it's enough to get by. Sure, there are other (arguably better) places hiring now. Sure, your boss, Frank, can be a bit of a jerk at times.

You've definitely thought about applying elsewhere a couple times, but the urge is always squashed not long after starting another shift. You can't imagine working somewhere else and no longer seeing Lex as much as you've grown accustomed to. If you could go back in time and tell your past self that Lex Foster, of all people, means as much to you as she now does, your past self would've checked you for a head injury or several. Although the two of you had attended the same high school (until she dropped out), the circles you'd each ran in had never intersected. As she affectionately teases you now, you've always been a bit of a nerdy prude.

Seven months into your job at Toy Zone, though, you've grown to really know -- and really like -- Lex. You love her dry humor, strong heart, and love for her sister. You love the way you can see her lock eyes with you over Frank's shoulder as he rambles on about the newest toy that's sure to fly off the shelves if you could just stock them faster, rolling her eyes before launching into a ridiculous imitation of him that you have to bite your lip not to smile at. You love the way she always waits for you to take your breaks together so that you can stand out back with her as she smokes, always making sure to blow it out away from you. You love the way her eyes light up when she talks about her sister, you love the way she cares so much about things even if she tries so hard to act like she doesn't, you love how strong she is, you--

You need to focus, and you definitely need to stop thinking about your coworker and friend so much, because the more you think about her, the more you realize your feelings are becoming more than simply platonic, which is a problem. It's a problem not only because Lex only just broke up with her boyfriend a month ago, but also because she's, as far as you know, straight. The risk of ruining this friendship you've grown to cherish is just too high. Besides, it would make working here too awkward when she inevitably rejects you, and then you really would have to look for another job.

"Come here often?" a playful voice sounds off behind you, the only warning you have before the owner of it is sliding between the stack of 'Sugar-Gliders' toys beside you and yourself. There's not a lot of space, however, so as Lex leans her shoulder against the shelf, you can feel her Toy Zone vest brush against your arm.

You glance at her as you finish straightening some of the boxes in front of you, an amused smile spreading across your face. "Considering I'm here almost every day, you'd think I would've made an impression by now. Now my ego's bruised."

"I'll kiss it better if you go on break with me now." The comment is an obvious joke, delivered as offhandedly as the multiple other flirtatious comments Lex has made toward you in the past couple months. Even if she doesn't mean it, it momentarily makes it harder for you to breathe nonetheless.

You laugh it off, trying to ignore the warmth you can feel in the tips of your ears. Picking up another box, you mull over her request. "I should finish stocking these first or Frank'll chew me out."

Even as you speak, she's plucking the box out of your hand before placing it back on the stack. "I'll tell him I made you do it; he already thinks I'm a bad influence on you."

"And you don't?" You raise your brows at her, your gaze lowering pointedly at the box she'd literally just taken out of your hand.

She scoffs, her hand flying to her heart. "You wound me, Y/N. Now I'm the one whose ego needs kissing."

Shaking your head, you step back out of her space. All this talk of kissing, joking or not, is making the close proximity way too overwhelming. Maybe a break would be a good idea after all. "Come on before I change my mind, drama queen."

____________________________________________

As you lean back against the wall out back, Lex doing the same a few feet away with a lit cigarette between her fingers, you can tell there's something on the shorter girl's mind. She's been unusually quiet, and you can see her glancing at you every few seconds out of the corner of your eye. You click the side of your phone, turning the screen dark as you slip it back into your pocket. "You okay?"

She almost seems startled when you speak, apparently not realizing how obvious she's been. "Oh, yeah, yeah. Just -- I've got this favor I gotta ask, and I'm trying to figure out how to ask it."

Well, now you're really curious. Lex has never asked you for anything other than occasionally covering a shift for her before. You turn to face her, leaning your shoulder against the wall. "People usually start by saying what the favor is," you joke in an effort to lighten the mood. It seems to work, the corners of Lex's lips quirking upward as she mirrors your movement and turns to face you.

"Okay, smartass." There's a pause as she takes a hit of her cigarette, the movement drawing your eyes to her mouth. You swallow, gaze quickly returning to her eyes. She doesn't seem to notice. "I need a girlfriend."

What the fuck? You didn't hear that right. You couldn't have. Your lips part but no words come out for a second, then two, then three. Then, "I-- And that's-- Huh?"

Apparently your stammering has put her at ease or something because she's chuckling now, taking another hit of her cigarette, and Jesus Christ does she have to be so hot when she smokes?

"Relax, Y/N. I know you're not into girls; I'm not really asking you out. It's just -- You remember Ethan, right?" There's another pause to take another hit, as if she's giving you time to remember him, as if you could forget the guy you'd been jealous of for months leading up to their break-up. "He keeps trying to get back together. He thinks if he just keeps trying, I'll come back to him eventually or something. I just thought maybe if he sees I've moved on, he'll give up."

Okay, so there's a lot to unpack there. You don't know where she got the idea that you're not into girls, but considering the one relationship you had in high school was a secret one with a girl deeply in the closet, you suppose you can't fault her for the assumption. You try -- and fail -- not to feel disappointed at the explanation that Lex isn't actually, truly asking you out for real.

She looks a little anxious again, watching you, waiting for your reaction. You know you should say no. This could really only end one of two ways, after all -- Either it ends in a fake break-up and you have to learn to live with the knowledge of how it feels to be loved by Lex but without the reality of it, or it ends with your real friendship becoming too awkward and loaded to survive.

But if you say no... If you say no, this guy keeps bothering her. If you say no, maybe she asks someone else, and as wrong as it would be for you to say yes, you don't want her to ask someone else.

"... Okay," you finally answer with a resolute nod.

"You totally don't have to," she's quick to reassure, dropping her cigarette and stomping it out before stepping closer to you. Despite her reassurances, she looks relieved with your answer. "I can ask someone else; I just-- I dunno, I don't really trust anyone else."

You give her a smile that you hope is just as reassuring to her as her words are to you, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat has begun to pick up speed. This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea. But it's for a good cause, right? That's why you're saying yes. No other reason. "Lex, it's fine. I'm happy to do it."

"Thank God." Another step closer brings her into your space, and before you know it, she's tugging you into a hug. You can smell the cigarette smoke sticking to her leather jacket coupled with the faint scent of the forest. It's got to be some kind of cologne or something, you think. The forest scent, not the cigarette smoke. "I really didn't want to have to ask someone else."

With one of Lex's arms firm around your waist and the other wrapped around your shoulders, you relax into her embrace and return it. Hopefully she can't feel the pounding of your heart against your chest as you reply, "Of course. What are friends for?"

#angela giarratana x reader #lex foster x reader #i was originally going to write a different story but then i wanted to write this instead whoops

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multifandomfanficss · 1 year ago

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Home Is Wherever You Are P2

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

With a very heavy emphasis on platonic!Christopher Smith/Peacemaker

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Prompt: You take Adrian, Gut, and Chris school shopping. It might be harder to keep the timeline in tact than you originally thought.

Warnings: mentions of/implied child abuse, panic, meltdown, crying, divorce, mentions of August Smith, cannon typical Peacemaker violence and language, homophobia

A/N: I’ve decided to start with biweekly updates! I’m post on Saturday and Wednesday. I’ll also be posting on my new AO3 adriansglasses. I’ve actually added all of my old work there as well. Hope you guys enjoy!

“You’re the most attractive person I’ve seen in my entire life.” Adrian smiles at you.

“Shut up. No, I’m not.” You blush hiding your face from your boyfriend.

“Don’t hide.” He pushes your hands away from your face. “Please don’t hide your pretty face. It’s like the prettiest face I’ve ever seen and even if it wasn’t- which would be totally absurd like have you even seen yourself? You’re so hot- anyway more to the point. Your personality is so attractive to me that you’re automatically that much hotter. That’s just math babe. Do two wrongs make a right?” You laugh at his comparison. To someone else that may not make sense, but to many people Adrian never made sense. To you, he always made perfect sense.

“You’re too nice to me.” You say smiling at him.

“Well you’re the only one who’s nice to me sometimes period and your pain in the ass loves you very much.” He kisses you.

“I never said you were a pain in the ass!” You laugh. He gives you a look.

“Okay, I may have said it once or twice, but I didn’t mean it. I was just teasing you.” You kiss him on the cheek as he holds you close.

“It’s okay. I know I’m annoying and hard to deal with sometimes.” You turn his face to look directly in your eyes so he knows you’re serious.

“Not to me.”

September 1st, 1994

You woke up to the sound of the chunky alarm clock on the nightstand. You could hear somebody cooking downstairs. You used the bathroom and made your way to the kitchen to find Diane making breakfast.

“Morning! I’m running a little later than usual this morning, so all I could really manage was toast and eggs. Hope that’s okay.” She gave you a sympathetic smile.

“That’s more than okay. I usually skip breakfast half the time anyway.” You admit.

“You shouldn’t do that. Adrian’s always trying to skip breakfast. He doesn’t like most breakfast foods. I’ve been trying to make sure he eats more of them.” You have to bite back a comment about how his future self is still just as annoyed by the concept. You think back to all his rants about how breakfast doesn’t make sense because it’s foods you can only eat in the morning. He was always annoyed that he couldn’t order pancakes at dinner time or a burger for breakfast unless he was in a diner. It just didn’t make sense to him. ��What?! Suddenly diners don’t have to follow the rules?! It’s all just a bullshit societal construct!’ You could hear his voice now.

“You could have called me down to help.” You say as the food sizzles in the pan.

“You were sleeping. You had a long day yesterday. I need your help with something while I’m at work anyway.” She says, turning to take the toast out of the toaster.

“What can I do for you?” You ask without debate. She’s helped you a lot and she is Adrian’s mom after all. You never thought you’d get to meet her outside of an ouija board. It’s the least you can do in your current situation.

“I have an envelope in my room for you with back to school money in it. It’s mostly just tip money I’ve been saving up from the restaurant. If you could bring the boys into town to get school clothes that would be wonderful. Adrian needs a little bit of everything. He just went through a big growth spirt. Dorian mostly needs new sneakers, but he should get a pair of jeans and maybe a couple shirts. There’s enough money in there to get a few things for Chris because God knows his father won’t do it. There should also be a little leftover if you want to get anything for yourself.” She says, beating the eggs.

“For me?” You question.

“You showed up with no clothes. You can have some of my old clothes, but I doubt you have the style of a divorced mom with two and a half kids. You should get one or two things you actually like.” She laughs.

“No, Diane I- I couldn’t-“

“Yes, you can and you will. This is basically just payment for the nannying gig.”

You smile at her. “Okay, fine. Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

After cooking breakfast and saying goodbye to the boys, Diane was off to the office for the day. She was a secretary at a nearby law firm. Waitressing was only her second job to help pay the bills after her husband left for another man.

“Dorian, do you know where Adrian’s shoes are?” You ask as you chase Adrian around the living room, trying to get him ready to leave. He had so much energy. You couldn’t say you were surprised.

“That’s not my name.” He sat there with his face in his gameboy, barley giving you the time of day. He was just radiating 12 year old angst. Honestly you couldn’t blame him. He was 12, Chris was 13, and they were both about to enter 7th grade. That’s hard enough on its own. It’s probably a lot harder when your mom is asking you to help look after your 3 year old brother because your dad just left because he’s gay. It’s 1994 in Evergreen, Washington and his best friend’s dad is the biggest homophobe in the country. None of this must be easy on him.

“What do you wanna be called?” You ask. He tears his eyes away from his gameboy to give you a look. It’s almost like nobody’s ever asked him or cared for his opinion.

“Gut.” He answers.

“Yeah that’s a much cooler name. My dad says Dorian is a pansy name.” Chris says, continuing to channel surf.

“Christopher Smith that is not nice and will not be tolerated when I’m around. Understand?” You know you can’t tell him his dad is wrong. You know if he challenges his dad now he might not make it back alive, so you hold your tongue for now.

“You can’t tell me what to do.” He huffs.

“Actually, as your babysitter, I can.” You turn to Gut. “Okay Gut, where’s your brother’s shoes?” You try again.

“By the door, under the bench.” He informs you.

“Thank you.” You smile, bringing Adrian to sit on the bench, so you can put on his shoes. There’s two pairs under the bench. You lift them up for him to choose between. One pair has dinosaurs on them and the other pair lights up. He very excitedly points at the light up ones. You can’t get him to sit still long enough to put on the shoes, so eventually you inevitably drop one.

“Motherfucker!” Adrian exclaims in his loud toddler voice.

“Adrian!” You say in shock. You want to laugh because this is so him, but you don’t wanna be blamed for this one. He’s only 3. He giggles at your reaction of the forbidden word.

“Motherfucker!” He says it again in a fit of giggles.

“Buddy, you can’t say that. That’s a grownup word. If you say it too many times you have to go to work and pay taxes.” You try to persuade him against the word.

“What’s taxes?” He asks.

“Taxes are what grown ups have to pay to people. They give a lot of money that you don’t have, so you shouldn’t say that word. Also not paying is a crime. I don’t wanna pay taxes, so I’m not gonna say it.” You try to bargain with him using toddler logic.

“But Dor and Chris say it!” He objects.

“Well, Dor and Chris are gonna have to pay taxes soon.” Adrian begins to cry. “Why are you crying, buddy?” You wipe his tears.

“I’m scawred!” He cries.

“Of what?” You ask.

“Taxes!” He cries.

“It’s okay. You didn’t say it enough times to have to pay taxes.” You pull his small, hiccuping body into your arms, not quite sure what to do. You feel kinda bad. Parenting is fucking hard. They say never parent your boyfriend, but you were taking it to a whole new level. You don’t think this is what they meant.

Finally you had wrangled the boys together and you were on your way to the store. You had to walk because Diane had the car at work and you obviously didn’t have one, but the store wasn’t far.

“Why do we have to walk? This is fucking stupid.” Chris complained.

“Chris, knock it off. We’re at the repeating age.” You gesture to Adrian, who was jumping around the cracks on the sidewalk. Luckily he wasn’t paying attention.

“Hey, Adrian!” Chris grabs his attention.

“Chris!” Adrian runs up to him, on his wobbly little legs.

“Don’t you fucking dare-“ The words came out of your mouth before you even had the chance to realize it.

Gut laughs. “You’re the one who actually said fuck in front of him.”

“Fuck!” Adrian repeats.

“No no no no no!” You try to stop him.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He says as he hops up and down with each fuck.

“No! I said…duck! I said duck!” Gut and Chris break into a fit of laugher.

“Rey’s lying, Adrian.” Gut tells him. Adrian stops giggling and his entire body language changes. He starts to cry, trying to walk away. His little legs don’t carry him very far. You turn to Gut and Chris.

“Please just stop! I just wanna get through the day. Would it kill you to just be nicer to him?!” You don’t mean to lose your temper with the boys, but you know this is only the start to a lifetime of bullying and provoking Adrian. You sigh, dropping your attitude. They’re all just kids. “Stay here for a minute.” You turn in Adrian’s direction and start racing after him.

You try to scoop his little body into your arms, but he screams at you. “NO! NO!” Okay. He’s not great with words, but he totally has no down. You decide to give him some space. Even if he’s not his adult self yet, he’s still a person. You know how easily overwhelmed he gets as an adult. You can’t imagine how upset his 3 year old self is.

“Buddy, I’m really sorry.” You apologize. Your heart breaks. You hate knowing you made him cry.

“P-p-pweas don’t weave!” He begs you not to leave through his tears.

“Hey…what’s going on? Why do you think I’m gonna leave?” You question him.

“Daddy lied to m-mommy and now he’s not here!” Adrian cries. Oh fuck. Of course he couldn’t fully grasp that his father had an affair and that’s why he’s gone.

“Adrian, listen to me. I will never leave you for something like that. I’m sorry I lied to you. Lying isn’t nice, but I’m here for you. I will always be there for you. Even if I’m not here with you, right next to you, I promise I will always love you.” You try to keep yourself from crying now. You can’t help, but think of your version of Adrian at home without you. You try to keep your tears in and stay strong for the younger version of the man you love right in front of you. They feel like different people, but they’re not. This is Adrian and you need to help him.

“Lying isn’t nice!” Adrian repeats, sniffling as his tears slow.

“You’re right. It’s not. Do you want a hug or do you not want to be touched?” You ask.

“Hug!” He cries, crashing into your open arms. You hold his little body as he cries.

“Even if you can’t see me, I’ll always be with you. I love you.” Everything about this is so fucked up. You shouldn’t even be here. You’re messing with Adrian’s life. You’re messing with Chris’ life. Everything about this feels so wrong, but when he’s crying in your arms like this all you can think about is the restless nights when you’d cuddle with your boyfriend and he’d shed a tear or two about his childhood. You knew how much it effected him even now and you just wanted to protect him from all that was to come and heal all that had already happened, but you knew you couldn’t do that. Time had to run its course.

After you helped baby Adrian collect himself you joined Chris and Gut back on the sidewalk and continued your way to the store. Town was small, so the walk wasn’t long, but luckily you had a new Walmart nearby. In your day this Walmart was shitty, but in 1994 it was new. You let Gut and Chris walk around on their own with the promise they’d meet you in the men’s clothing section. You were going to take Adrian to the toddler section. Toddler clothes were cheaper and he was growing fast, so you picked out a couple different outfits for him. You grabbed some basic pants and socks that would match everything and let him pick his own shirts. He settled on a shirt with a spaceship on it that said ‘I’m so cute it’s out of this world’. He also picked a Barney shirt and an Aladdin shirt after making a comment on how both Jasmin AND Aladdin were pretty. You then brought him to your side of the clothing department to grab a shirt or two you liked before meeting up with the boys. After settling on some basic shirts, you were on your way to meet Chris and Gut when you passed the electronic isle and you caught Chris staring at a tape recorder. Even from a distance you could tell he was about to cry as he put it back on the shelf. Gut was nowhere to be seen, probably waiting in the men’s isle like was supposed to. He usually listened better.

“Hey, Chris…”

“I’m not crying!” He wipes his eyes.

“I know.” You give him a smile.

“I just got dust in my eye. They need to clean these shelves better.” He crossed his arms across his chest. You crouched down in front of Adrian.

“Hey, Ade. Why don’t you go pick out a movie for us to watch tonight from the clearance bin?” He wiggled excitedly before taking off towards the bin of cheaper VHS tapes.

“Stay where I can see you!” You called after him. He did just as you said and stayed in your line of vision as you talked to Chris more privately.

“Level with me. I know you weren’t crying, but if you had been crying…hypothetically of course…you could tell me anything. You know that, right?” You weren’t sure if you were breaking the timeline, but at this point you didn’t care. Chris deserved to be able to trust someone in his life.

“I wasn’t crying.” Chris tried to walk away from you, but you caught his arm in your hand.

“Chris, wait-“ He hissed as you made contact with his shoulder. Your jaw drops and you can almost feel tears in your eyes. You pulled up his sleeve to reveal small, circular burn marks. They were burns left behind from where his father had put out cigarettes in his arm.

“Stop starring at me like I’m a freak and just let me go.” He pushes you off of him and he walks away. You knew this job would be hard, but it’s a lot worse than you expected. You had no idea it would be this awful constant moral battle between letting these kids get hurt and keeping the timeline in tact. After realizing you were all alone and you could still see Adrian, but he wasn’t paying attention to you, you started to cry. After taking a deep breath you wiped your tears and picked up the tape recorder, putting the shirts for yourself on the shelf. Fuck it. Chris deserved something his dad couldn’t ruin. So what if you had to wear Diane’s maternity clothes and any clothes her husband left behind? You knew how much he loved music. He deserved this. Timeline be damned he deserved one fucking thing in his life untouched by his father. You hid it in the cart under some of Adrian’s clothes before heading to him digging around in the clearance vhs section.

“Rey!” He called for you as soon as he saw you.

“Adrian!” You called back, pretending to be happy. “Did you pick one?” You ask.

“This one!” He says, excitedly shoving the tape in your hands. You couldn’t help, but smile a real genuine smile. In your hands was a copy of the movie Adrian told you was his favorite growing up; The Brave Little Toaster.

“Have you seen this one?” You ask.

“No!” He smiles, hardly able to stand still.

“You’re gonna love it.” You smile, placing it in the cart. You take his hand and you both head to the men’s section to get clothes for Gut and Chris. Gut picked out a Green Day shirt, while Chris picked out a Nirvana shirt. You were happy when Chris didn’t pick up the Green Day shirt because you knew having that might get him in trouble in the next 10 years when they come out with American Idiot. His dad’s gonna hate that. These were of course considered hot new bands and most of their most famous songs weren’t even out yet. After picking out a couple more clothing items you headed to checkout. You were thankful Adrian was being such a distraction because Chris didn’t even see you put the tape recorder in the bag. With the remaining money, you took a bus to Fennel Fields for dinner where you told Diane you’d meet her on her night shift.

“Mommy!” Adrian yelled running up to her as soon walked through the door. It was nice to see him with his mother.

After grabbing a pizza you headed home. When you got there you pulled Chris aside and gave him the tape recorder.

“Happy birthday.” You said handing him the Walmart bag.

“It’s not my birthday.” He gives you a strange look.

“I know. Just think of it as an advance on your birthday gift.” You smile as he starts to open it.

“Is this mine?” He asks in shock. You nod. “Why did you do this?” He asks.

“Because you deserve something that’s yours that you enjoy.” You say as you watch his eyes well up with tears again.

“I’m not crying.” He says again.

“I know. But even if you were…it’s okay…” He stares at you for a moment before bringing you into a wordless hug. You stand there for a moment, shocked. You never expected this from him, but you wrap your arms around him anyway.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. You deserve it.” You remind him. You know it won’t change the timeline much, but this time, you hope it does something.

After tucking Adrian in, you leave Gut and Chris to play video games until Diane gets home. You head to your room, flipping onto your bed with a sigh. You just hope you did the right thing. You open your phone and head to your voicemails. This has almost become routine.

“Hey babe, it’s me. I’m just calling because I know you had a bad day today and I was thinking…” You close your eyes, as the voicemail plays and you begin to cry. You’ll see him again one day. You have to. You didn’t know how or when, but you had to. You’d figure it out. You’d make a plan.

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a-lesbianshadowinthenight · 19 days ago

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there’s something about how jess and lupe gravitate towards each other immediately and understand each other with so little words exchanged. something about how they balance each other out. how they use their different worldview’s and perspective to strengthen their relationship rather than drive them apart that’s so so dear to me

jess immediately clocking lupe and not getting offended when lupe thinks it’s a dumb question

lupe not knowing where moosejaw is and jess begrudgingly amending it to canada

that could have easily become a situation where two people would have written off the other person

but they saw something in the other that they recognise in themselves that made them decide that they wanted to stick together

the way jess goes straight to lupe when beverley is explaining the house rules and lupe immediately complains to jess about the no pants rule

the way lupe’s voice goes from angry to soft in the locker room when she notices jess is upset about having to wear a dress, lupe comforting them because she knows

lupe not finding jess’ ‘sinking boat’ analogy weird and instead asking her to give specific details, the way you can tell she finds jess interesting

jess being the only one to second lupe when the rest of the team wrote her off as a bad fit to be coach

jess being happy to see lupe having confidence again (let’s not forget them biting their lip about it too, um okay loverboy)

jess taking the piss out of lupe to try and break her out of her bad mood (‘did that help?’ ‘…..yeah’) (ps also made lupe wanna kiss her. this is canon idc)

the fact that you can see they still seem to be seen near each other even after the fight incident, jess is behind lupe when carson is trying to be a stricter coach, when they’re still mad at lupe

the way they can disagree, get angry over things they don’t understand, and they hear each other out. jess starts out ripping into lupe about fighting amongst the team, only to realise they hadn’t seen it from lupe’s perspective

jess not needing an apology from lupe about the black eye (idk if lupe caused it directly or indirectly, but jess arguably blames her for it at first) because she now sees it from lupe’s side

jess understanding and then apologising in their own way, getting the whole team toasting lupe when they know she’d felt excluded in the past, showing lupe that they have her back in doing so

lupe knowing jess is sorry without them having to say it, understanding the implied meaning of jess’ toast. you can see by her reaction that she appreciates it (also loverboy over here blushing about it, i see you lupe)

arguably, the little nod lupe does after she thanks jess for the toast could be interpreted as her telling jess she understands it and they’re cool

the way they move past it and it’s water under the bridge, they’re back to being ‘brothers’

jess not being afraid to call lupe out on being hard on esti, challenging her when she pretends not to care that esti has run away. jess sees right through lupe’s facade, and witnessing that plus esti’s conversation with lupe in the car (even though she doesn’t know what esti is saying) knows that lupe needs to sort her shit out with esti, and orchestrates a situation where they can do it, without forcing lupe

lupe knowing exactly what jess did and instead of being angry is actually lowkey impressed (and a little turned on let’s not lie)

the fact that they both automatically run towards each other on the pitch when they get a home run or win and run into each others’ arms (lupe’s dorky grin is so adorable and sorry not platonic at all, that’s a smile you give someone when ur in loveeeee)

just the whole bar scene. they’re so in sync with each other, finishing each others’ sentences, teaching carson about gay culture together, the easy camaraderie of the arm wrestling (the kisses on the cheek!!!!!!!! twice!!!!! the second one where they’re both smiling!!!!!!) both of them automatically leaning towards saying no to carson when she asks if they’ve been with women here

i also think they very openly talk about their hookups together based off lupe showing jess her hickeys, and lupe telling jess veronica is a biter. i also think they would be each others wingmen (also think if/when they fuck each other they would have threesomes lmao)

(i also think they would tease each other for their very poor flirting skills)

them talking about sticking together on the off season and going to new york together (although i still can’t decide how their conversation indicates that, or the scene i’m thinking of isn’t the right one idk)

anyways tldr: they became unlikely but also inevitably each others person and challenge each other to be better, they’re a good team, they have great chemistry that draws them together. they are soulmates

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werepuppy-steve · 11 months ago

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a piece from my platonic hellcheer roadtrip wip that i want to make some progress on soon

Chrissy rolls over to face him. Eddie can't tell if she's still drunk or not.

She giggles when he reaches over and swipes a thumb under her eye where her eyeliner is smudged and the corners of Eddie's lips tick up in amusement. He lets his hand fall back to the bed and tucks it underneath his pillow.

Chrissy's eyes are starting to droop and just when Eddie thinks she's out, she takes in a sharp breath and shifts under the covers, pulling them under her chin. She looks at Eddie with an unreadable expression.

"Do you think..." Her voice is barely above a whisper, like she doesn't want to disrupt the comfortable silence that's settled between them. It's a stark contrast to how loud she was at the bar and when Eddie dragged her through the door of their hotel room, still drunkenly slurring that Cyndi Lauper song from karaoke.

"And you've taken all you can bare, you call me up because you know I'll be there."

"Alright, superstar," Eddie chuckles fondly as he sits her on the edge of the bed. "I think it's time you hit the hay. You're gonna have a bitch of a hangover in the morning."

He kneels down in front of her and starts unlacing her boots. Her singing stops and Chrissy sits up from where she'd flopped onto her back and gives Eddie a look that he equates to a pouting bunny. "I am not a bitch in the mornings, Theodore Munson."

It startles a laugh out of Eddie so hard that he almost chokes on it. "That's not even remotely close to what I said, but," he gives her an apologetic look, "you kind of are, babe."

It earns him a deserved smack on the head but Chrissy quickly goes back to humming her songs and Eddie is able to get her out of her party clothes and into her pajamas without much fuss.

"You can always call me," she says before he turns the lights out. Her back is turned but her voice is clear. "You know that right? Just like I can always call you."

Eddie blinks, hand froze under the lamp shade. "Of course I know that, Chris," he says after a blip of silence. She doesn't say anything else so Eddie turns the light off and slips under he blankets beside her.

Eddie nudges her socked foot with his own bare one. "Do I think what?"

Chrissy bites her lip like she does when she's nervous. "If we both weren't gay and you weren't dating Steve, do you think we would've worked out?"

The question catches Eddie off guard. "Oh."

Chrissy shakes her head and quickly sits up. "It's a stupid question, I know. I shouldn't have asked–"

"Hey." Eddie grabs her hand before she can get out of bed. "It isn't stupid. Nothing you ever say is stupid, don't say mean things about my best friend."

That gets a watery laugh out of her. Eddie gently gives her hand a pull and Chrissy easily lays back down. The lights stay off because this feels like a lights off kind of conversation.

"I don't know," Eddie says honestly, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. "Maybe. But I think that deep down we would have known we aren't right for each other that way."

Chrissy looks at their hands and nods. "Yeah... Even if it meant figuring this stuff out later, I think I would have liked to try."

A sadness makes a home in Eddie's core. Deep down he knows he never would have been able to give her the kind of love she deserves, but he also knows that Chrissy thinks she doesn't deserve any type of love at all.

So he scoots closer until he's got her pulled into his chest, their arms around each other. "What I do know is that you're my best friend in the whole world. And I know that there isn't a single universe in which I wouldn't find you and make sure you know how much I love you."

He feels Chrissy hug him tighter and he kisses the top of her head.

"You're loved by so many people, Chrissy Cunningham."

#cj talks #chrissy has realized she's a lesbian at this point but she's still very much working through some internalized homophobia here #''i think i would have liked to try'' =#''you're only guy i've ever loved & maybe i could've toughed it out even though we'd both be unhappy & pretending to be someone we're not''#cj's wips #platonic hellcheer #hellcheer #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham

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herlondonboy · 2 years ago

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Kinks

Pairings: natasha romanoff x gn!reader / avengers x platonic!reader

Summary: the og 6 hunts a serial killer that attacks people that look like one of their dearly beloved

Warnings: dark!reader, murder, mentions of sex, weird kinks. This was originally written as a Jennifer Jareau fanfic, so its set in a Criminal Minds Universe. No powers or anything.

Word Count: 1.8k

You wondered how long you would be in the conference room before you could leave. You were beginning to get antsy. Sitting around, cooped up all day, waiting to catch the unsub. The serial killer with an obsession for your wife. Natasha wasn’t allowed out of the police station and was under strict watch when they realised that she was who the unsub was fantasising about. You also hadn’t seen her in 25 hours, 26 minutes and 43… 45 seconds.

It was eating you alive to say the least.

“Maybe the unsub isn’t a crazed teenager with weird sexual fantasies.” Bruce suggested, deviating away from your original profile. “There’s one twice a week, right? Well, maybe they are messy. Maybe the unsub really didn’t mean to kill these people and they just got carried away.”

“How does that retract the idea of it being a teenager?” Steve asked, a frown on his face.

“Well, look.” Bruce pointed at the burn marks where the victim had been electrocuted. “Now Tony, can you pull up a picture of how the the Widow Bite stun batons burn people.”

“On it.” Tony nodded and within seconds there was a picture that was almost identical. It was barely noticeable, but the faint outline of a web was there. This person had been in the building.

Those batons your wife designed. She had been nicknamed the Black Widow because she lured men with her looks and voice before bringing them to their demise. She wanted something of her own and the BAU liked the idea and started making them. She was so proud. You were so proud. But now they were being used for evil. She’d never look at them the same again.

“Its a sex thing. We know that they engaged in consensual intercourse before the women’s death. I think this unsub likes when their partners are in pain. They might even have dacryphilia or be a masochist. The baton is probably how they inflict that pain. Nat could’ve turned this person down a while ago and with the news of her going through an adoption, they could’ve erupted. Hence, the trigger.”

“Good work, Bruce.” Steve patted him on the back. “Y/L/N, go ask Nat to write a list of boyfriends and girlfriends that she dated in high school that she kept in touch with, and people who she met in bars.”

You nodded and slowly stood up before making your way to see your wife. You were more than giddy. Hell, you were over to moon you got to hug and kiss the woman you loved more than anything in the world again.

“Distracted, love?” Nat asked when you walked in, practically looking at her with heart eyes.

“You’re so pretty, Natty.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around her waist, pulling her into you. “There’s no one that I love more than you.” She was the reason you woke up in the morning. Without her you’d be nothing. She kept you breathing, you loved for her and her only. You don’t know what you’d do if this unsub got their hands on her. In fact, you’d kill them yourself.

“I could say the same to you, handsome.” Natasha grinned, kissing your cheek.

“Ugh.” You groaned, pushing away from her. “You’re trying to woo me with those gorgeous eyes, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you know me so well.” Nat rolled her eyes. “What are you in for then?”

You blew a raspberry. “I need a list of all ex-boyfriends or possible suitors. Anyone that has approached you in a bar. He wouldn’t have taken it well when you told him you were married. Even descriptions are good.” You stated.

“Do you have a pen and paper?”

“Of course.” You nodded, handing her the items.

“All of these people are clean.” Tony said in shock. “How often does that happen, huh?” He chuckled. You were currently with Natasha, tending to her needs as the rest of the team, Bruce, Steve, Tony, Clint, and Thor. “I guess that just leaves y/l/n.” Tony joked, But something in Clint’s mind clicked.

“A few weeks ago, three or so days before the killings started, Natasha came to me. She said that y/n had asked to do something during their sex. Nat said they pulled out their batons with a foreign smile on their face. Nat shot them down obviously and they never spoke about it again, but I’m sure you guys noticed a change in how they act around Nat, right?”

“Holy shit.” Thor breathed out. This was news. A shock to everyone around. You couldn’t… you wouldn’t. Their sweet y/n? You were the baby of the team. The youngest. Their child. Yet you… How could they be so blind? All of the signs were there. The way your arms would tighten ever so slightly whenever someone so much as looked at Natasha. How distant you had been during the investigation. They were disgusted with the thought that their genius, Anthony Stark’s own protégé, could be so cruel.

The way the knots around the woman’s wrists were tied with such care, shows that you were still the innocent little being, that you didn’t mean to kill them. But they knew what Natasha would think. If there was one thing she hated more than men, it was a cheater. Her mother had cheated on her father and ruined their family dynamic. You had taken Natasha’s heart and ripped it out of her hand and though she didn’t know yet, you were about to punch her in the gut.

You were sat on your phone, scrolling mindlessly through tweets when you were suddenly yanked to your feet. “You have the right to remain silent.” Clint said. He was on your right with Thor on your left.

“Hey, what the hell?” You asked, writhing around in your friend‘s arms.

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a caught of law.” Clint said, ignoring you. “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”

“I know my rights, Jackass. Let me go!” You yelled. you were placed into a chair in an interrogation room rather aggressively before being handcuffed to the table. “Let me out, Assholes! Let me out!” You continued to call out as the door was shut behind Clint.

“Calm down.” Clint said softly. You were shaking in anger. Your eyes were red and there were veins popping out of your neck. It was a scary sight. “We know you killed those people, y/n. Natasha turned you down so you got angry and went for the people that wouldn’t. You’re an attractive person, you take of that ring and everyone wants you, it’s crazy. But Natasha loves you. How could you do that to her?”

“I didn’t do shit.” You sat back in your chair, allowing your breathing to even out. Your fists still clenched and unclenched as did your jaw. Your anger and the look in your eyes was uncanny. Nothing they had ever seen before. “You think i’m what Natasha hates most? You think i’m her mother?” You scoffed before chuckling. “Well, kudos to you, Clinton! You cracked the case. I’ve been having sex with and accidentally murdering people with red hair, that all are 5’4 and that have the same body type as my wife before she doesn’t give me more than i deserve!” You raised your voice, slamming your hand down onto the table.

“I said calm down.” Clint repeated.

“No, i will not calm down! I did not murder those women, now i demand you let me go and allow me to see my wife.” You said. You saw Clint look down in thought and you assumed he heard something through the communications device planted in his ear.

He got up and left the room, shortly swapped with Natasha who had been filled in on everything. “Why did you do it, y/n?” Was the first thing she asked and you gulped. You couldn’t lie to her. You promised you wouldn’t. “Fucking look at me when im talking to you! Why did you do it?” She repeated lowly as you looked up at her. “Are you not going to talk?” She scoffed. Now that you got to look at her you could see the unshed tears in her eyes. It broke your heart.

“You’re too pretty to cry.” You murmured. But that seemed to be the wrong thing to say, but it was true. She was gorgeous, and now mascara was running down her face. You wanted to ravish her, to show her that she was the only one you could ever love. Her silent crying just spurred you on. It took a while, but she noticed you were getting horny when she heard you groan and saw you roll your head back in pleasure, rubbing your thighs together.

She jumped up in shock, slamming her hands on the table, making you jump and look up at her through hooded eyes. “You are crazy.” She spat.

“I did it because i love you! I love you unconditionally and yet the second i ask to do something for me you blow up. I didn’t bring it up again. I pushed it down and ignored it. But then Jennifer came along. You looked so similar and she was willing to please me. I could imagine she was you! That you were pleasing me.” You told her.

“How does any of that mean that you love me?” Natasha shook her head.

You ignored her, carrying on. “I took it too far with the electrocutions and killed her. But i apologised. You saw the note. I mourned. I experience the same emotions anyone else does. I am not crazy, Natasha. Im in love.”

It was so hard to believe. You, you of all people. You weren’t a murderer and yet you were categorised as a serial killer. You were a monster. Natasha couldn’t grasp the fact that she was going to raise kids with you. She would’ve taken one out of the adoption centre and placed it right in hell. And just like that, she was crying again. You wanted to beg her not to cry, but she stormed out almost immediately. Well, that could’ve been worse, right? She could’ve murdered you right then and there. Clint could’ve too. He and Natasha were basically siblings. You’d hate to be the one on the receiving side of their wrath. Oh, wait.

You didn’t have enough time go think before you were struck in the face. With the power of a thousand Gods. Your whole body convulsed and the chair slipped from under you as toppled over. The skin of your wrists broke around the metal cuffs and you gasped, collapsing to the ground with your hands up. You looked at the man that you once considered a brother and that once considered you a sibling through teary eyes. “Not so fun when its you crying, huh?” He asked. “Pathetic.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x y/n #Natasha x you #Natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #reader insert #criminal minds #avengers x reader #the avengers #avengers x y/n #the og 6 #elijah random #uhm #so i did a thing #marvel #fanfiction

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thelilreddragon · 7 months ago

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A Harmony headcanon of mine(set post Deathly Hallows): often times, Harry would have nightmares and once or twice, it involved Hermione dying. When he wakes up and is sweating and afraid, Hermione would hold him close him and reassures him she never leave him. She would comfort him, especially when he cried about/often missed his parents or Sirius

Omigosh, sameee! My favourite is thinking of how it happens...

It happened gradually. They never officially stopped sharing a bed after Ron left, but they were careful.

Even though it was completely platonic, they didn't want to hurt his feelings... It was completely platonic. Totally normal.

After the war, when Ron and Hermione agreed their kiss was awkward, and Ginny and Harry never did get back together, Harry and Hermione moved into their own little flat in London.

They never discussed it, when Hermione turned the other bedroom into a library, and hung her stuff up in Harry's closet. Or when Harry would snuggle up to her while she read in bed.

It just was.

When Harry had nightmares, where Hermione died, she'd stroke his hair, and wake him up. She'd hold him closer to her chest, and reminded him that she would never leave. Or when Hermione had dreams about her parents, and what might have happened if the spell wasn't reversible, Harry was there for her too.

Ron was the one to point it out. Harry and Hermione never went out with other people, they'd hold hands in public, they'd snuggle on the couch after a long day at work... all signs pointed to together.

They had the conversation a few weeks before the War Gala.

"We're going together, right?" Hermione had asked, between bites of the take-away they'd ordered. Harry always knew what her favourite was. She didn't need to ask anymore.

"Of course we are. Why wouldn't we?"

"I dunno. Ron said that we act like we're together."

"I mean..." Harry turned bright red. "I don't want to wake up beside anyone else."

"Nor do I..." Hermione stood up, and walked in front of him. Abandoning his own pad thai, Harry put both hands on her hips.

"I've had feelings that weren't too... brotherly for you," Harry admitted.

"Well, that's good, because that would be weird."

"So we're on the same page?"

"Yeah, I guess we are." And Hermione bent down to kiss Harry.

That was their last first kiss with anyone else.

#And they were roommates #Oh my god they were roommates #harry potter #harry x hermione #epilogue what epilogue #Idiots in love

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unreadpoppy · 6 months ago

Note

For le fruit ask:

🍎: Is there anything you straight-up won’t write?

🍈: Who’s your blorbo and what are some of your favorite headcanons/ideas about them that repeatedly show up in your fics? Free pass to rant about blorbo opinions.

Ayy, thanks for the ask, Sky!!

🍎- I'd say there's a few. Incest and anything involving minors and adults in a non-platonic way are the first that come to mind. I just don't feel very comfortable with either of those and would no write them. Also probably gore and body horror, just because I don't think I would really be able to write it well plus body horror makes me squeemish. And there's also a couple of kinks that I also wouldn't write due to personal reasons.

🍈- Oh god ok hum....

Ok what I'm gonna talk about are not necessarily headcanons (i think) but just stuff that like, when I write these characters, I've noticed I repeat it a lot

So, while I don't consider Haarlep a blorbo per se, everytime they come up in a fic I write, it's either to 1) cause mayhem, 2) act like the voice of reason for Raphael or the other character 3) be convinenet for when I need story stuff to move forward. Like, I like that Haarlep is such a little gremlin that you can kinda do anything with them and it sorta justifies itself.

Raphael the one thing I can think of is that I HC that he has a neck thing, so sometimes when I'm writing smut or more sensual/sexual scenes with him, i just gotta have him either grab, touch, bite, kiss a neck.

Minthara's possessiveness comes up a lot, because i am mentally ill I think it makes for an interesting dynamic (especially with Galatea) that she like, has lot a lot of people she cared about and always has that feeling of a knife behind her back so of course she's gonna be possessive about the people she actually loves, and i just aaaaa i love writing that.

I don't think I succeed in this but I do try is that I think Halsin's snarkier than people think, so I like to try and show a bit more of his less serious side (i mean, he grew up around a fey spirit, he's gonna be up to some shit sometimes).

#ask games #ask answered #thanks sky!!!

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plvtosun · 1 year ago

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blancaposting! ongoing bulleted list of her traits, backstory, lil facts, character rxships, songs, etc

blanca edén tennebris*

born/raised in east los angeles

got in trouble for ditching her own first communion and playing with the crows in the cemetery outside the church instead. her dress got all dirty. ( → “i hate it! why am i wearing this anyway i don’t wanna marry jesus!!”) she said if her parents forced her to go through with it she was gonna bite the priest’s fingers. …they didn’t make her go through with it, they knew she would legitimately bite his fingers.

her immediate family is/was very religious, very traditional mexican-american. puro machismo. blanca’s an only child but during family functions she was expected to watch all the younger cousins inside the house while everyone else had fun. as much as she hates it she knows the rosary by heart. but she still has a soft spot for la virgen de guadalupe, to this day. the rose scent of the veladoras calms her down.

she doesn’t get along with her family much, except for a few older cousins who introduced her to metal and anime, and a tía she visited one winter break in mexico, who taught her how to do limpias de huevo for herself. the day that tía passed away was probably the worst day of her life.

(more under cut)

*“tenebrous”

she needs! her! quiet time! ex: if she’s working on a piece in an area that’s starting to get crowded and noisy, she gets overstimulated and has to leave immediately. some days she can handle noisiness, other days she can’t. (she can always handle the noisiness at concerts though)

her first kiss was a girl in her catechism class.

likes spooky and haunted things but she’s not about to go full zak bagans yknow?

her first and middle name were chosen to keep in line with the whole… devout catholic thing. blanca means white, “pure” in a way. the name was also chosen because it was her maternal grandma’s name, and she was a very pious woman.

she straight up saw la llorona once.

character rxships [updated 8/29]:

toki

she’s down horrendous but he doesn’t notice for a while because she tries to hide or she gets extra quiet when he’s around.

re: kids, blanca: …have you ever had to take care of a kid? like legitimately had to take care of one for a full day? a week? or while they’re sick? …try that out and get back to me. [personal hc that he does, in fact, try it out. the stickiness, the noise, the sensory overload at times despite a few cute sweet moments. yeah, cats and bunnies all the way.]

draws him cutesy (and brutal) pictures whenever he wants!

gets too shy to hold his hand at first and looks away the first time in true tsundere fashion.

cute spanish nicknames!

both t-shirt thieves, even though most of blanca’s shirts don’t fit him. he’s stretched a couple of them out. :/

skwisgaar

likes to mess around with him because of his high opinion of himself. all in good fun though.

calls him “ricitos”/“ricitos de oro” (goldilocks), which he acts like he hates, but lowkey? i think he likes it.

he’s allergic to cilantro, she has that thing that makes it taste bitter and nasty to her. “you’re not missing much. i don’t care what everyone else says, i’m convinced my third eye is open or some shit and that’s why i’m one of those people that tastes straight SOAP when i eat it.”

nathan

he came across her art on instagram and thought it was sick with the brutal imagery and that’s why he wanted her to illustrate the next album cover/tshirt designs, but aside from that, they didn’t get along too well at first because they’re kinda similar in the way they like to tease and mess around + they would butt heads a lot creatively.

eventually they’re chill though. blanca quickly figures out how to shut up and not say certain things even though nathan’s reaction would be funny, and he does the same.

not platonic soulmates, not mortal enemies. they’re pretty alright together. they pal around.

both fucking love chips

he’s the first to notice her crush on toki and he teases her in passing about it every chance he gets. ass.

murderface

refuses to go in his room. “no fucking way man you have all that old historical stuff in there! that shit’s haunted!”

↑ “la neta, la neta, la neta. que mala vibra traes, maestro.”

similar to nathan but she messes with him a little more because he’s pretty rough. she generally doesn’t get along with him super well but they have their moments where they can joke around and have fun. kind of like a cat and a dog.

walked in on him playing bass with his dick and quoted the “there goes the last lingering thread of my heterosexuality” simpsons line

pickles

when he opens up a little about his mom and family she gets piiiissed. she can relate. she high fives him after he finally tells his mom to go fuck herself.

tv binging buddies!

calls him “canelo” like canelo álvarez because of his red hair

second to notice her crush on toki. he doesn’t tease as much as nathan but he definitely gets a kick out of seeing how she gets around toki before they officially get together.

abigail

admires the way she gets shit done and thinks her curly hair is really pretty

tries not to get in her way when she’s working but loves her calming vibe. she likes to just sit with her in silence while she draws sometimes

begs begs BEGS her to let her do her makeup all dark and gothic. just once!

charles

similar to abigail, she tries to not get in his way too much and she admires how he handles things

feels like he’s kind of unapproachable, but he seemed nice and polite enough when she first met everybody & started working on the album art.

not much going on between them honestly

dr. rockzo

literally only puts up with him for toki but she sets boundaries on him being around quick. she doesn’t like how he’s taken advantage of toki’s kindness before

^ may or may not have put ojo on him once or twice because of this. three times… four… who’s counting though?

he’s gross, dude.

playlist! + youtube link and backgrounds for the songs here.

#blanca tag🤍⛓️#oc bio #mtl oc #metalocalypse oc

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autisticbee · 2 years ago

Note

Just saw your newest posts about Dan Vs so would you mind sharing those I need my daily dose

Of Dan Vs thoughts? Sure. Here's some random thoughts & hcs. got a little long oops (I can't remember how to do read more on mobile...)

- Mr. Mumbles is immortal. why? Who knows, but it's a silly cartoon so I get to hc the cute kitty as immortal, alright?

- I've seen ppl joke about dan vs """cancel culture""" but the thing is, I think he'd be all for it. I think he'd find it funny. I mean the dude has his own version of a call out list.

- Dan has hypermobility (1. He mentioned having a double jointed thumb 2. I have hypermobility and I say so)

- Chris is pansexual but doesn't realize it until later in life, he honestly had just not thought about it too hard & had only had a few relationships prior to getting married kinda young, all with women, until something leads to him realizing his feelings for Dan are not entirely platonic & it's just like. Oh.

- Dan on the other hand is pretty openly bisexual, he has a preference for men(projecting 🤪) but has (... slightly) better luck with women (men are more likely to want to kill him)

- something, that's not a life or death situation that gets magically reset, prompts Elise to tell Chris the truth about her job. because I hate the fucking person can't tell their partner they're a spy/agent/superhero/what the fuck ever trope it Feels Bad Scoob and Chris has expressed sometimes feeling a lack of communication between them in the show which ):

- speaking of Elise finds out Chris is part bear but in like the most casual way possible

Elise: I'm thinking of making Chris see a doctor, he gets sluggish and strangely irritable during winter months which makes me wonder if he might have seasonal depression.

Dan: nah, that's just the bear part of his DNA

Elise: the. the what.

- Dan and Elise both have C-PTSD (I don't think I have to explain why Dan does, Elise's is from basically being trained as a child soldier & just that she's likely experienced many traumatic things during her job), Elise copes with it mildly better than Dan but she's mostly just better at putting up a front of normality

- also Dan is obviously autistic. he's undiagnosed and doesn't realize until he's in his 20s or 30s. The discovery of noise cancelling headphones make his life a little bit easier

- Chris is also neurodivergent in some way but I haven't narrowed down the flavor yet 😭

- Dan is a trans man this is fact in my head I won't accept anything else, I have like tried to work out timelines and shit just to make it all fit within canon(yes I know most ppl just go screw canon but I just like making things work within it, I'm weird like that). I can't decide if he's had top surgery(post-job at the chicken place, hence the funny note about it) or he just naturally had a small chest and testeorone "masculinized"(for lack of a better word) it somewhat (cause I did prior to going on multiple medications that I could sometimes pass as having a flat chest). He doesn't want bottom surgery cause he doesn't see the point (slightly nsfw: "until they can give me synthetic semen and a prostate I'm not interested"). again mostly projecting there lmao

EDIT: in case this wasn't clear, I mean he sees no point in it for himself, not that he thinks nobody should have bottom surgery

- Dan is a closeted romantic. This is hinted at in canon imo, the thing with the anger management lady is clearly a metaphor for wanting more than a fling. Dan seems to take his romantic attraction to people very seriously, like with Hortence despite not interacting with her much. also his face when Honey kissed him. he's just secretly a big sap who wants to be loved

- Dan is a catboy in spirit. I say in spirit because he has no idea what a catboy is but he's just sooo kitty cat coded. knocks things off tables when annoyed. plays with toilet paper. claws and bites. I hc he meows as a stim with Mr. Mumbles sometimes. Also he hisses at people.

- I know what Chris said in the family cruise ep but I like to think Chris does actually think of Dan as family, mayhaps the holding out the hand scene was a acceptance or realisation of that, maybe that's what the thing he was going to say but forgot towards the end was. this isn't even really a buddyshipping thing it's just that me personally if my best friend didn't consider me family I'd want to jump off a cliff(/j) so I can't handle the thought (seriously though what was Chris going to say. It haunts me.)

- I'll end this on a fuzzy feelings self indulgent headcanon. Dan, Chris and Elise(+ Mr. Mumbles) become a weird little family of ther own. Dan and Elise are like frenemies, who share the same partner, but also deep down they care for each other. platonic love/hate relationship <3

#dan vs #vee type dan/chris/elise #long post

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disappointedcreeper · 3 months ago

Text

also leaving this open tagged

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

yeah, maybe a bit strained but good

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

fuck I don't remember TwT

03: Do you regret anything?

yes I regret everything /hj

04: Are you insecure?

yep :/

05: What is your relationship status?

single but like I'm aroace

06: How do you want to die?

Peacefully and painlessly after I accomplish my gials

07: What did you last eat?

i think some banana bread

08: Played any sports?

nah

09: Do you bite your nails?

yes sometimes

10: When was your last physical fight?

probably not since i was a kit

11: Do you like someone?

yes? I like all of my friends

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

dont think so but I have pulled all nighters before

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

several world leaders

14: Do you miss someone?

yeah...

15: Have any pets?

yes and she's such a good girl

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

idk kinda meh

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

ew no (not that people making out is gross, just me doing it would be)

18: Are you scared of spiders?

some yeah (like the venomous ones) mostly their cute though

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

yeah

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

what the fuck is that lemme look it up rq

What the fuck never

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

i mean weekends ove

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

no unless pets count her

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

Math and science

25: Do you miss anyone from your past

yeah

?26: What are you craving right now?

ice cream

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

probably not

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

yet aagain: ariace

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

✨im aroace✨

30: What’s irritating you right now?

the fucking crumbs in my chair (I will never learn)

31: Does somebody love you?

platonically? yeah. romantically? almost certainly not

32: What is your favourite color?

blue

33: Do you have trust issues?

yeah kinda

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

something about becoming a fox in some way (don't remember much)

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

my dad

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

maybe

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

idk probably forgive

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

hell nah, I'm ✨so burnt out✨

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

never

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

51: Favourite food?

cant choose

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

almost certainly not, even if there is some higher being there is definitely some stuff that just happens

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

draw I think

54: Is cheating ever okay?

i ddon't know???? I'm probably the last person to ask for relationship advice

55: Are you mean?

yeah I think so

56: How many people have you fist fought?

57: Do you believe in true love?

i mean love ccan only be a lie if you're trying to trick someone into thinking you love something or someone

58: Favourite weather?

probably when it's overcast

59: Do you like the snow?

heck yeah but my human form is not meant for being in it

60: Do you wanna get married?

no. (except maybe for tax benefits)

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

what about nonbianary folks huh? why not just say someone, why are you not inclusive, huh?

anyways no

62: What makes you happy?

a lor

63: Would you change your name?

abso-fucking-lutely but I have no clue what I would change it to

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

seriously what is up with these questions

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

politely decline

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

dont see why sex matters but no I don't have any friends like that (social anxiety makes it like impossible for me to do that in person, hooray)

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

i ddon't know why does it matter??

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

probably my dad

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

idk I have no clue how people feel about each other or how relationships work

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

hell no death is horrifying

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

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jamesbuchananxsteviegrant · 3 years ago

Text

[AU, SMUT] What Are You? | Bucky x Steve x Reader

Category: AU, Smut (Mandatory) Age: 18+ Trigger Warnings: Mafia themes, derogatory language, intercourse Ship: Steve x Bucky x Reader Summary: Steve and Bucky Are Planning Some Work With a Client, But What Happens When That Client Doesn't Respect Their Girl? Request: N/A Contains Spoilers for: N/A Word Count: 2.6k

—

Almost everyone knew - there was no doubt about that. Everyone should’ve known, at least, but those who didn’t pay enough attention… sorry for them.

Everyone who heard the sound of the heels clacking against the marble flooring would straighten themselves up as if the sound was coming from the men themselves.

Which men? Oh, which men indeed.

That’s not to say that the woman couldn’t have any kind of friendships with any of the men in the building - she does need a little bit of platonic fun here and there.

“Slow down, Aphrodite, you might chip the flooring.” A mocking voice calls from behind her. Despite it being from a familiar face, the other men still stiffen as if they were the ones doing wrong.

“You might shatter the mirrors if you look in them for any longer.” The woman retorts as she attempts to hide the grin that forms at her own comeback.

The man, however, doesn’t even try to hide his smile as he turns his strides into a jog to catch up with her.

“How do you even know how often I stare in the mirror? You spying on me?” Sam asks, the pair glancing at each other and both now smiling.

“So you admit that you stare at the mirror, and not just look at it?” The woman tactically avoids his question with her own retort.

Sam’s laugh echoes through the corridor they’re walking through. It’s quite spectacular really - some would mistake it for being a palace. A place where only the good-willed people reside. Almost a shame that it’s full of the likes of James ‘Bucky’ Barnes and Steve Rogers - the two men who own just about all the power there is in New York, let alone Manhattan.

“You know they’re not done yet, right?” The man quizzes, a content smile still on his lips as his hands rest in the front pockets of his black trousers.

The woman doesn’t respond, simply nods.

Sam catches it out the corner of his eye and simply shakes his head.

“You have a habit of interrupting their meetings.”

“And you have a habit of saying things that might get you killed one day.” (Y/N) answers, but her gentle smile admits that that’s not entirely true.

Her attire consists of a loose but very fitting crimson dress that sits mid-thigh, along with the matching red heels that are buckled around her ankles. A simple silver chain around her neck that has two small, but very expensive, black and red diamonds resting in the centre of her collarbone.

“Tell Steve that his car’s being valeted if he needs it anytime soon.” The man comments as he turns off down another corridor, different to (Y/N)’s route.

She simply nods again.

Why is it that she’s heading toward her husbands’ meeting? Because she’s interested in seeing how it will end. The man who has been persisting to speak with Steve and Bucky for the last sixteen months is desperate, to say the least. He wants investment in their three hotels that are situated across NYC, in Queens, Brooklyn and Manhattan.

She was the one who decided on where those hotels would be built, so she wants to see the man, John Walker, crumble as her partners’ pretend they care, only to tell him no.

It might seem like a waste of time but in reality, it’s to see how the man deals with hearing the word no, and whether Bucky and Steve need to deal with him.

“Ma’am.” Christopher greets as (Y/N) approaches the door of the conference room that her men are in.

“Chris.” She responds, nodding her head as he opens the door for her. “How’s it going, gentlemen?” The woman adds as she casually struts into the room, grabbing everyone's attention.

There’s a moment of silence as everyone turns to look at the woman who’s interrupted their meeting. Steve and Bucky simply smile as they take a moment to admire their wife.

“Excuse me?” John is the first to speak up and everyone’s attention turns to him, including (Y/N), who doesn’t seem phased by his evident frustration.

“You’re excused.” Her response is simple but ignites a spark inside of the man.

“Do you usually let whores just stroll around and cause inconvenience in their wake, gentlemen?” He asks, but his eyes remain on (Y/N).

The woman’s eyebrows raise, and a surprised but impressed smile etches its way onto her face. She says nothing. John stares at her with a quirked brow, waiting for a response from the two men his question was directed to, so obliviously aware of the fearful stares he’s now getting from everyone else in the room.

Bucky and Steve’s heads turned very slowly, in sync, back toward their guest, their smiles now distorted into that of pure fury.

“Would you like to say that again?” Steve speaks up first, John now turning his head toward the boss in curiosity of his sudden change of voice.

That’s when the man notices all the stares on him. His eyebrows furrow as he acknowledges everyone’s expression. His eyes flick from the other men in the room to Bucky and Steve, to (Y/N), and back to the two leaders.

He gulps.

“I said: Say. It. Again.” Steve enunciates.

“Come here, doll,” Bucky speaks up also, his eyes flicking from John to (Y/N) for a brief moment, his arm opening up and inviting the woman to situate herself on his knee.

The woman obliges, striding over to her husbands and letting the brunet’s arm wrap around her as she sits.

John’s eyes haven’t left Steve’s, too mortified to even blink, but he catches the action of Bucky and (Y/N).

Steve’s eyebrow quirks, reminding his guest that he’s waiting. And Steve hates waiting.

“I didn’t mean- I didn’t know she was- gentlemen, please, look, this is all a big misunderstanding, I just-”

“Called our woman a whore and an inconvenience.” Bucky finishes his sentence, his expression just as murderous as Steve’s, despite the soothing actions of his hand stroking his wife’s waist.

“I didn’t know she was your-”

“And you think that excuses it?” Steve interrogates. “You think calling any woman a whore is acceptable? An inconvenience?”

John gulps and the sound echoes in the room. His eyes flicker away from Steve’s for a moment to the woman herself, intentionally or not, but his eyes drop to the prominent cleavage on display.

Bucky smirks at the action that most definitely didn’t go unnoticed by himself.

“Sweetheart,” Steve begins, John’s attention darting straight back to the blond’s once more. (Y/N) hums in response. “Who do you belong to?”

(Y/N) bites her lip, core throbbing at the obvious dominance and possession of the two men.

“You and James.” She whispers, Bucky’s hand gripping her waist tightly at the use of his birth name.

The sweat glistening on John’s forehead is clear as day.

Knowing what’ll get everyone in the room riled up even moreso, (Y/N) turns herself around so she’s facing Bucky, sat on his lap, legs on either side of his body. Everyone else in the room keeps their eyes firmly locked on the glass table or the white ceiling.

A pleasant hum resonates from the brunet’s throat, his hands naturally adjusting to rest on her hips.

The moment John’s eyes flicker to (Y/N) once more and then drift down her back, a gun is cocked and metal is pressed firmly against the back of the man’s head.

The woman goes to turn her head around to see what’s happened but Bucky’s lips locking with hers prevents that from happening. She whimpers against his mouth and he absolutely adores it.

“Bend over this table for me, doll.” The man murmurs. “Let’s show Mister Walker what a proper whore looks like.”

The excitement that sparkles in his wife’s eyes makes his cock throb between his legs.

“Yes, sir.”

The pet name makes both men throb.

The woman stands up and turns herself around, making sure every sway of her hips is a show to be watched. Her eyes lock with none other than their security lead, Tony Stark, who’s holding the gun up to Walker’s head, as she bends herself over the table, dress drooping at the front to display her cleavage.

Tony’s eyes don’t even flicker away from her own. The staff in this building know better than to try and indulge in what is rightfully Bucky and Steve’s. John, however, sees this as a prime opportunity to stare at what he believes he’s being offered, his trousers getting tighter.

(Y/N) sees it. She finds is humorous.

Bucky’s hands slide their way up the backs of his wife’s bare thighs, pushing up the crimson material as he reaches it.

Her eyes flutter shut and lips part in satisfaction at the feeling.

“Tell us what you want, doll.” Bucky mumbles, sitting the bottom of her dress at the base of her back, grinning at her lack of underwear.

“Touch me.”

The explicit word that escapes John’s lips are heard clear as day and he knows it, face once again panicking as he looks back at Steve, whose expression still hasn’t changed.

“Where do you want me to touch you, princess?” James continues, not paying an ounce of attention to anyone else in the room right now besides his missus.

His fingers stroke the top of her inner thighs, seeing her soaking wet core already dripping down them.

“Want you to touch my pussy.” (Y/N) breathes, eyes flitting open barely a millimetre.

James presses soft kisses on his wife’s ass before sliding his middle and ring finger lightly over her slit. The action gets a mewl out of her.

Fifteen men in this room in total, only two of them can touch this woman yet all fifteen are dreaming about it.

“Move.” Steve states, prompting John to widen his eyes once more, but this time the words aren’t directed at him.

Bucky grins and obliges, removing his hands from his girl and stands up.

(Y/N)’s eyes open fully this time as she whines in complaint at the loss of contact, but a large smack on her ass distorts her whine into a large gasp.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you, sweetheart.” Steve states, manoeuvring himself so he’s stood directly behind his wife, Bucky casually pulling his own gun out of his inner blazer pocket and wiping it down with his hands.

John’s face stays facing Steve, but his eyes follow Bucky as the brunet moves behind him and out of his sight.

Tony takes the sign to back away and let his boss take over from here.

Steve has no shame as he unbuckles his belt, undoes his trousers and pulls out his rock-hard cock, stroking it with his hand a few times while his other hand returns to Bucky’s previous actions.

“You see that?” Bucky whispers in John’s ears, prompting the man to gasp and jump in his seat. He gulps again but remains silent. “I asked you a question.”

The man frantically nods, fearful for his life, and absolutely humiliated.

“You’re so wet, baby,” Steve murmurs, leaning down and moving her hair aside, kissing the back of her neck.

Before the woman can even respond, her husband thrusts himself inside of her in one go, (Y/N)’s back arching and moaning so loud that Christopher can probably hear outside the door, and Steve’s head being thrown back, his own moan equally loud.

Bucky almost loses his composure if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew not to falter when making sure a man like John Walker was wanting his woman.

“Fuck…” Walker whispers, lips parted as he stares at the woman in front of him being railed by none other than Steven Rogers.

“Keep watching because this is your death wish.” Bucky whispers, John’s eyes widening. “Does she look good?”

John nods his head almost desperately.

Her moans only get faster and louder as Steve fucks her.

“Remind him what you are, sweetheart?” The blond groans, grabbing the woman’s hair and pulling her head back so she’s more or less face-to-face with Walker alongside her other husband.

“A whore.” (Y/N) practically begs.

“Louder.” Steve demands.

“A whore!”

“I said: fucking louder!”

“A WHORE! I’m your whore, sir!” She screams, John losing it and standing up to lean forwards but a gunshot firing beside his head makes him stumble back down to his seat.

(Y/N) flinches are the known noise but settles quickly as Bucky strokes her face with the hand that’s not holding the freshly-fired weapon.

“Don’t you fucking dare move an inch toward our wife.” Bucky threatens to the man he’s leaning over.

John gulps but nods, not taking his eyes off (Y/N).

“Is she inconvenient now, Walker?” Steve asks, glaring daggers at the man. He only shakes his head, eyes only meeting Steve’s for a split second. “No?” He breathes. “Then what is she?”

The guest falls speechless, shaking his head as his eyes flicker between Steve and (Y/N).

“Hot as fuck.” He whispers, Bucky growling in his ear.

“Fuck!” (Y/N) cries out, desperate eyes staring at Bucky’s, who smirks at her state.

“Think our girl wants to cum, Steve.” He comments, John panting in his seat.

“Yeah? You wanna show this scum what a good girl you are for us, baby girl?” Steve grunts, not slowing down but rather speeding up as he too reaches his peak.

The woman’s head nods in desperation, face flushed as her eyes flicker across all men in the room, including Tony’s, who simply winks at her before removing his stare.

“Say it, doll.” Bucky demands.

“I wanna cum.” (Y/N) gasps, watching her brunet lover shake his head.

“Gonna have to do better than that, doll.”

“Please,” She begs. “Please, daddy. Sir. Please, let me cum!” Her voice screams, Steve grunting in response to the feeling of her squeezing his cock, milking him for all his worth.

“Cum, baby girl.” He permits. “Cum like the whore you are.”

And how she does.

Her scream could shatter glass, Christopher would be concerned if he hadn’t already established the differences between the woman’s fearful screams and her pleasure-filled ones.

Taking full advantage of Bucky’s distraction, John leaps forward to get a taste of the woman who’s almost passing out from the pleasure, but that’s the last move he makes as a bullet is shot through his back, knocking him down onto the table.

Tony doesn’t seem phased as he shakes the smoke from his gun, settling it back into his pocket.

Making sure the woman doesn’t collapse atop the, now dead, man on the table, Bucky holds her up while Steve sorts himself out before pulling her back across the table and into his lap.

“You okay, sweetheart?” The blond whispers, smoothing the hair out of her face.

(Y/N) nods but keeps her eyes shut as she rests against her husband’s chest.

“Words, baby.” He requests.

“M’okay.”

“That’s my girl.”

Two of the security men alongside Tony head over and remove the body from the room, Bucky asking for someone to clean up the mess whilst walking over to his two lovers.

“We okay?” The brunet murmurs, Steve smirking and nodding before both paying attention to their girl who’s still half unconscious.

“Does anyone else in the room have anything to say before we carry on?” Steve asks, everyone shaking their heads frantically. “Good, now leave.” And they do.

“You okay, baby doll?” Bucky whispers, cocooning her cheek with his hand.

The woman nods and manages to open her eyes.

“Yeah.”

“That’s our girl.”

Tag List

Stucky x Reader Only Tag List: @polarbearnamedpanda | @marvelous-glims

1K notes · View notes

spenciegoob · 4 years ago

Text

Dethroned (Requested)

A/N: I know the request said the relationship between Reader and Luke is platonic, but I kinda dropped subtle hints that Luke is slightly pining for Reader... oop.

Request: smutty post-prison Reid being jealous. Like him just being absolutely in love with reader, like he had been since she joined the BAU but was too nervous to say anything so settled for being mega close best friends. Then when he returns from prison he finds out that her and Luke have become close friends whilst he’s been gone (its simply platonic though) and he ends up snapping and just absolutely annihilating the reader over her desk in the office after everyone else has left

Pairing: Post Prison!Spencer x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: jealous!spencer, exhibition, hair pulling, degradation/praise, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.9K

______

It was a gradual realization on his part. Spencer was so overwhelmed with coming home, his mom and Cat to even really take notice in the shift of your attention from him to Luke Alvez.

It wasn’t like you completely ignored him since his return. You were Spencer’s best friend, the title he settled on all those years ago when you all but skipped into the BAU and into his life.

And it wasn’t like you didn’t have other male friends. Before his leave, Derek and you had gotten along pretty well right off the bat, and Spencer never thought about it twice. If anything, he was ecstatic that two people that were so important in his life were also important to each other.

But when Spencer was stuck behind physical bars that represented every feeling for you he’s tried to keep at bay, you found comfort in Luke. He couldn’t blame you for that either, especially when the first time you visited him all he could see was hurt in your eyes, and all he could do was stare back with the same expression.

The first time he noticed the shift was after everything had settled, and the groove of life, for the team at least, was back in motion. You all had decided to go out and grab a drink, and the second you agreed, Spencer was also on board. He would follow you just about anywhere if it meant the smile on your face when he said yes stayed forever.

Luke had whispered something in your ear, the music in the bar too loud for Spencer to catch what it was. It had to be hilarious by the way you threw your head back in laughter, Luke’s eyes immediately dropping to the newly exposed skin, before nudging his shoulder with yours.

Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off the conversation in front of him. He should have when the grip on his glass was so hard it could’ve shattered.

“You know, kid, if you talked to her, she’d know how you feel,” Rossi had told him that night.

“That’s exactly why I can’t,” Spencer thought in his head, but merely gave Rossi a whatever, and walked away to the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror that night, hoping the disgust he felt for how angry he got whenever he saw you with Luke was enough to make it disappear.

It never did.

Like right now, Spencer sat at his desk, a rubber band ball being suffocated in his hand as he watched you perch yourself on top of Luke’s desk. It was an innocent act on you part, but the way Luke leaned back in his chair, opening himself up to you, and allowed his eyes to flicker to your bare legs that were swinging back and forth softly was definitely not innocent... not in Spencer’s book anyway.

It came as no surprise to Spencer that Luke would at the very least find you attractive. You were, in every aspect. Spencer could stare at your for hours, and sometimes, he did.

He would look at the way your skirt hugged your curves in the best possible way, or he would stare at your neck when you leaned back to stretch out. He would watch the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs, a nervous habit you’ve always had. Spencer would think about how soft they probably were, like silk rubbing against each other.

But now Luke was also looking at you like that while you talked about what you were going to do this weekend.

“If you’re not busy, you should totally come,” you told him, obviously excited with the idea of Luke tagging along to wherever you planned on going.

“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” he agreed, and when he did, you jumped up off his desk, enthusiasm practically dripping from you.

“Yes! It’ll be so much fun, I promise!” And then you did the one thing Spencer silently begged you would never. You kissed Luke on the cheek before scurrying back to your desk.

Of course you would kiss him on the cheek. To you, that was a seemingly innocent and friendly action, one that Spencer had been on the receiving end of for the past 10 years.

But now, Luke stole his crown and was flaunting it in front of Spencer’s face like an older brother who just got an XBOX for Christmas. Okay, maybe Spencer was a tad on the dramatic side, but how could he not be when Luke all but physically railed you over his desk when his eyes unashamedly did?

There were many things Spencer could take and get back up like nothing had happened. He’s been shot, punched, kicked, framed for murder and hell, he even stabbed himself, but none of that compared to the deep rooted anger that blossomed in his chest like a flame to gasoline when the thought of Luke touching you swarmed his brain.

Enough was enough.

“Alright, you’ve all worked enough today. Please, go home and get some rest,” Emily’s voice traveled from outside her office door to the agents that still inhabited the bullpen like a second home. Most, including Emily in its rarity, gathered their stuff to finally call it a night.

“So, you’ll text me the information?” Luke asked you as he was putting his jacket on. You had yet to move from your slouched position over whatever paperwork you insisted on finishing before leaving.

“Yeah, definitely!” You beamed up at him before returning back to your case file immediately. Luke walked away with a little more pep in his step than usual per Spencer’s analysis.

“Hey, Spence. Do you think you can hang back a second and look over this for me?” You asked him, catching the attention of the stumbling genius as he tried to get back to his apartment as fast as possible and deal with his... issues with you and SSA Luke Alvez.

He was going to say no, really he tried, but when he looked up to your puppy dog eyes and slight pout, how could he? Spencer knew you were giving him that face on purpose, he had told you in the past that if you were to ever give him your best puppy dog eyes, he could never refuse.

Now it was coming back to bite him in the...

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Spencer made his way over to your desk that was piled high in paperwork more than anyone else’s.

“I took a bunch of work home, and I accidentally dropped all my files and they scattered every where. So now, all the paperwork is mixed up and Emily needs these by tonight. Basically I’m screwed, but I just wanted to make sure the arsonist in Kentu-”

“I’ll help you,” Spencer interrupted your rambling once he got a grip on himself after adjusting to being so close to you. The smell of your perfume wafted into Spencer’s nose and got him drunk faster than any alcohol could ever.

“Oh no, Spence. Don’t worry I can handle this,” you immediately shut him down, but Spencer was not easy to convince, and once his mind is set to something, there’s no changing it.

“I want to, trust me.” Spencer had started to roll his desk chair over to you. You sat there momentarily stunned for two reasons:

1. He had dropped everything to help you.

2. He wasn’t affected by the close proximity of you two the same way you were, or at least knew how to hide it really well.

The buzzing of your phone on your desk pulled you from your trance as Spencer settled next to you and went to pull a new file from your overgrowing pile.

You picked it up to find a text from Luke, opening your phone to a picture of Roxy enjoying the toy you got her last week.

Spencer turned to you to find you smiling and letting out a breathy laugh at your phone.

“What?” He asked, more sarcasm dripping from his tone than expected. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything.

“Just Luke and Roxy. I love that dog so much,” you said while putting your phone on silent and setting it face down. You didn’t look up at Spencer, but if you did you’d find him beet red with anger, and holding the armrests of his chair a little tighter than necessary.

“Hm,” was all he mumbled in response. This, you didn’t ignore.

“Is something wrong? You really don't have to do this with me,” you fumbled over your words, worried that your clumsiness and disorganization was what was annoying Spencer.

“No no, it’s not this. I like paperwork, actually.” You finally looked over at Spencer to find him already staring at you. His gaze bore into you like a blade to the gut, his intensity something you had never been on the receiving end of. It would be a lie if you were to say it wasn’t making you nervous.

“Then what is it.” Your words were not meant to come out as a whisper, but with Spencer’s intimidation and the way it made your stomach flip, you were overwhelmed already.

“Nothing, just, uh,” his confident persona was gone just as quickly as it came. “You and Luke, huh?”

Now it makes sense. You couldn’t help the small smile that etched across your features at his unknowing admission. Spencer Reid was jealous, actually jealous.

“Yeah, he’s a great friend.” Your emphasis on the word friend did not go unnoticed by Spencer, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting the words crawling up his throat out.

“I’m sure he thinks the same about you. The profile in this case fi-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Two can play at this game, and if it was going to end the way the two of you were unknowingly both hoping, you would have to succumb to the rules.

“Hm? Oh! So you’re oblivious to the way he looks at you?” Spencer spat back, jealous intimidation turning to full anger now.

“Jesus, Spencer. Of course I’m not oblivious, but that doesn’t mean I look at him like that.” At this point, you stood up from your chair, Spencer’s approach throwing you off and getting you more worked up than you cared to admit.

“Besides, I have eyes for someone else,” you mumbled quietly under your breath, but Spencer caught it. “I’m calling the night. I suggest you do the same.”

You picked up as many files you could, not wanting to reach over Spencer before turning around to make you descent home.

Before you could get far, though, Spencer grabbed your elbow and spun you back to crash into his hard chest. You gasped, not making eye contact and instead opting for staring at his lips.

“Who?” Spencer asked, also not looking up from your lips. Both of your minds swarmed with the desperation to feel each other’s against your own.

“You.” And that was all he needed to finally succumb to his mind’s wishes. Your lips moved together like a violin bow to a string, creating a perfectly conducted symphony of files falling from your arms and deep inhales of each other.

Spencer reached out behind you, never taking his lips off yours and pushed anything that was on your desk with a deafening crash. Pens, papers and tape now littered the bullpen floor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when all you could feel were Spencer’s hands gripping your waist as he hoisted you up to sit you on your now clear desk.

His lips finally detached from yours, the need for oxygen getting in the way of a kiss you wish could last for eternity. They didn’t go very far, Spencer attacking your neck with little nips, surely to leave incriminating bruises. Your hips started to involuntarily roll forward, searching for friction from his hardening member still constrained by his work slacks.

“Spencer, please,” you begged, needing to feel him, all of him at this moment. His lips abandoned your neck to slowly pull back and scan your body like a predator indulging in his final prey one last time before he answered.

“Please what, Princess,” Spencer whispered, his hands moving down to grip your thighs that were attempting to squeeze together at your new pet name.

“Please, fuck me,” you whimpered back. His deep chuckle resonated through you as he leaned closer until he was directly next to your ear, his hot breath fanning down your neck causing you to arch your back slightly.

“Right here on your desk like a little whore,” he whispered against you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. Spencer shook his head slightly as he pulled back to grab your chin lightly with two fingers, forcing your head back.

He leaned in as close as possible to whisper against your lips one last time. “Only for you.”

Time stopped as hands sped up in a frenzy to rip each other’s clothes off, lips molding together like a lock and key never wanting to separate, and hips involuntarily grinding against each other in search for some friction in an overwhelming search for release.

Only when Spencer gave up on your shirt buttons and ripped the fabric apart, adding drums in the form of buttons hitting the desk and floor to the song you two collectively decided to dance to tonight, did he allow his lips to leave yours. Slowly, he nipped his way back down your neck, pushing you back softly until your body fully rolled down on the cool wood underneath you.

Spencer’s eyes found yours again as his hands inched behind you, silently asking for permission to break down yet another barrier between your two bodies. After a pleading whimper from you, he unclasped your bra and slowly pulled it down your arms.

Spencer maintained eye contact as he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the peak before sinking his teeth in teasingly. Your back arched into him, a strangled whimper leaving your body as the heat between your thighs increased significantly.

“Spencer please hurry. I need you,” you whimpered softly, pulling his hair back from the top of his head in hopes of getting him in an area far more dire in need of attention.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Spencer mumbles in between kisses inching back up your body. His hands make their way under your skirt as he continues. “I want to take my time with you, but given our circumstances,” he paused to take a look at the deserted bullpen. “I’ll give you what you want, and fuck you like a whore.”

There was no other way to explain the way Spencer ripped your panties off so hard the lace snapped under his force than animalistic. He wasted no time stuffing them into his back pocket, and fully separating from you to stand straight and unbuckle his belt. Spencer’s eyes stared down at you, taking in every part of your body to file away in his brain in case he ever needs it. His once honey brown orbs were now absorbed with black, his pupils full and his eyes displaying a kind of fire only lust can fuel.

Once his belt was fully off, he smirked and folded it in his hands. Staring at the new object of his desire, he tantalizingly shook it back and forth slowly, watching the way it bounced with his movements.

“Should I gag you with this so you don't alert the whole goddamn building of how desperate you are?” Spencer looked back at you to find your cheeks a deep shade of red, partially at his degrading tone, but mostly at the idea of being gagged.

“No, sir. I wanna feel you.” The title slipped past your lips with no control or hesitation. Your cheeks burned further as Spencer’s movements stopped, his eyes widening slightly.

“Fuck it,” he whispered before throwing the belt on the floor and unzipping his pants with more speed than you've ever seen him move.

Spencer gave you zero time to even register his size before he was stepping in between your legs, lining himself up and slamming into you to the hilt with one hand, the other grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling back hard, all while never taking his eyes off you.

You couldn’t stop the loud gasp leaving your body as Spencer groaned at the feeling of you around him.

“God, you’re so fucking tight, Princess,” he grounded out, the soft growl in his tone causing you to whimper and clench around him.

When he felt you start to squirm underneath him after adjusting to his size, Spencer started to move, setting a brutal pace immediately. Your entire body felt like it became engulfed in flames, the feeling of Spencer repeatedly hitting the sweetest spot inside you over and over with a force unmatched was too much to handle.

Tears started to well in your eyes as the soft whimpers and pleads left your lips. Spencer pulled himself from his position tucked neatly into your neck to stare down at you, never relenting on his pace.

“What’s wrong, Princess,” he teased, a smirk growing across his features at your tears. “Is it too much for your little cunt? What happened to the girl that begged to be fucked like a whore?”

Spencer let go of his grip on your hair to wipe the tears blackened with mascara that were running down your face.

“So good, sir. Please don’t stop,” you mumbled, only half coherent. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Spencer filling you completely. His dark eyes flickered down from your face only for a second, but when he looked back up at you, excitement joined the lust in them, a swirl of emotions destined to destroy you in the end.

Spencer grabbed one of your hands that was gripping his shoulder, nails digging into the skin and leaving marks he wished would last forever. He placed in on your stomach, and confusion filled your mind for a moment until you felt the tip of his cock hit your hand.

“You feel that, Princess? You feel how deep I am? I’m gonna fill you up.” Your back arched, and you finally released a loud, wanton moan at his words. Spencer didn’t miss the way you clenched around him tighter at the thought. “God, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, make you - fuck- carry my child. Make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

You felt the knot in your stomach growing tighter with each word, and when Spencer lifted one of your legs into the crook of his elbow, hitting you impossibly deeper, you knew you weren't going to last much longer.

“Oh G-god, Spence. I- I’m gonna....”

“It’s okay, Princess. I’ve got you,” he groaned back, lifting two fingers to your lips before forcing them into your mouth. Instinctively, you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked on his digits. “Let go, Princess.”

All you needed was his permission before letting your orgasm rock through you, the muscles in your body seemingly losing and gaining all the tension in the world at once, your vision going white, and your mind blank except for one thought; Spencer.

Your loud moans were blocked by his fingers pushing deeper down your throat, catching them before any unwanted guests could hear.

Your moans started to turn to whimpers around his fingers as the overstimulation kicked in. Spencer could sense it by the way you still clung to him as tightly as possible.

“Fuck that’s it. You’re doing so well, Princess, taking all of me,” he growled out, his hips losing their rhythm, signaling his own impending orgasm. Spencer leaned down further, pushing your leg farther up in the process, and again, hitting you deeper than imaginable.

Two more sloppy thrusts in that position, and Spencer was coming deep in you with your name and different praises being groaned in your ear. He bottomed out once more, coming to a stop buried deep, both of you trying your hardest to catch your breath.

When he started to pull out, you whimpered immediately at the feeling.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m almost done,” Spencer whispered, caressing your cheek as he fully unsheathed himself. The abandoned weight of him on top of you, and the loss of his cock filling you up left you cold as he went to rummage through your drawers for tissues, but all you could do was stare up at the lights hanging from the ceiling, your body still slightly twitching.

When Spencer returned to you, he sat you up and kissed your forehead before reaching in between your legs to clean you up. The second the tissue hit your sensitive cunt, you winced.

Spencer looked back up at you but before he could say anything, you cut him off.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” you reassured him, smiling softly as you reached up to caress his cheek. Upon your approval, he went back to cleaning you up. “Actually, I’m more than okay. That was.. That was-”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling slightly and shaking his head. “I know, right?”

“Maybe we should thank Luke,” you teased him. Immediately, his smile faded and he looked up at you with an expression that can only read “Seriously?”

You let out a full laugh now, obviously still entertained with the idea that the Dr. Spencer Reid was jealous of Luke Alvez.

“I’m joking,” you said, your smile turning from one of hilarity to adoration as Spencer straightened back up to stand between your legs and wrap his arms around your waist. “And Spence, it’s always been you. Not Luke, not anyone else. You.” You emphasized your point by jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Good, because that would make this really awkward,” he said back. You tilted your head in confusion to which he laughed at before continuing. “Do you want to go grab dinner?”

Your cheeks blushed profusely as he asked you out as if you didn’t just let him take you over your own desk at work.

“I would love to say yes, but I still have to finis-” When you turned around to look at the pile of paperwork you had yet to complete, it was no longer on your desk, but scattered around it. During the rush of trying to feel each other completely, the two of you failed to notice the stack of files that started this whole thing had fallen all over the bullpen floor.

“Emily is going to kill me,” you said, turning back to Spencer who was still staring at the now empty spot on your desk.

“Actually, she has two reasons to kill us now.” You threw you head back in laughter, Spencer joining you at the thought of Emily finding out about the last 30 minutes. “But seriously, you go deal with the security footage, and I’ll deal with the paperwork.”

“Hmmmm...” You pretended to ponder the thought of not having to do all of that paperwork by yourself anymore. “Deal.”

“Deal,” Spencer repeated back, smiling softly before kissing you one more time.

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sugarbooger513 · 3 years ago

Text

Mine (Stepbrother!ChosoxFem!Reader)

This is my collaboration piece for @severelytalentless Are You Afraid of the Dark collab! I had a lot of fun writing this... work. I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you to my very amazing friends who helped me out during this piece, especially my wifey @kentosovertime and my bestie @roughwithfluff. It wouldn't have ended up as well written as it did without the help.

Warnings: stepcest, possessive nature, unprotected sex (wrap your willies), oral (fem receiving), spit, Choso slaps reader in the face like once, he also slaps in another place, daddy kink, dom Choso, Choso is very petty, mentions of cheating ex, mentions of alcohol and nicotine consumption, degradation, praise, slight breeding kink if you squint

"Don't bother calling me anymore! I see what's more important to you.." You hang up your cell phone and throw it across the room. Your bed feels colder than it usually does, but you lay on it anyways, allowing your tears to flow onto your pillow.

Your boyfriend, now ex, of two years had called you with a plea, begging for your forgiveness. How could you forgive him, though? When you heard about your best friend sleeping with him, you couldn't get the image out of your head. You knew she thought he was attractive, but there was never a worry in your mind that either of them would take it anywhere.

You sit up, suddenly realizing that he would be on his way home from work in an hour, maybe two. You had to leave before he got home. It wasn't like you feared he would hurt you for leaving him, but he would certainly try to guilt you into staying with him.

Your heart rate increases when you realize that you have no idea where you can go. He knows all of your family, and is pretty loved by all of them. Your stepmom even has the habit of calling him her son. 'Her son...'

You rush to grab your phone, dialing the all too familiar number. If there's one person in your family you can call, it's the one he's scared of.

"Y/N," your step brother lets out a long yawn after answering, "what's up?" "B-bubs.." You can hear him drop something on his end. "Honey, why are you crying?" "He.. he cheated on me.. with her.. you were right.."

Choso bites the inside of his cheek, suddenly enraged at the thought. He never liked that guy. When they first met, Choso punched him in the jaw for being an asshole. You were mad at him at the time, but eventually understood why he did it. Since then, your ex was too scared to look Choso in the eyes.

Still, he now finds himself smiling.

"I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?" Your sniffle makes him clench his fist. "He's going.. to be home s-soon." "Drive over here. I'll set up the guest-" "C-can you get me..? I don't want him tracking my car.."

Your pitiful voice goes straight to his crotch. Even though no one else is at his home, he finds himself trying to conceal his half hard cock with the kitchen counter.

"Of course, honey. Pack a bag. I'll be there in twenty." "I-I love you, Choso.. thank you." He has to bite his lip to keep from moaning. "I love you too, honey."

When he hangs up, he groans loudly and places his head on the cool marble. "Okay," he talks to himself aloud, "just.. keep yourself in control. You got this, Choso. She's your step sister, for Christ's sake." He shakes his head, grabbing his keys.

Still, he can't deny the things you do to him. It makes him feel terrible, but you're so damn tempting. He always figured that your hugs would last a little too long, your eyes scanned him a little too much, your hands lingered on him a little too suggestively.

He knew better, though. Your teenage years were spent on tons of dates with guys who were the complete opposite of your stepbrother. He would sit in his bedroom, no doubt on a video game, while he listened to guy after guy go in and out of your bedroom. It wasn't like you were a whore.

Those guys just eventually showed their true colors.

He knows that when you love, you love with your entire heart. That's why he was there for you through every heartbreak. He would hold you for hours, dry your tears with his own shirts, make you your favorite snacks, take you on long walks so you weren't cooped in the house all day.

Why? Well, because in his mind you already belonged to him.

You pace your living room, already holding your overnight bag in your hand. Of course, you'll probably stay with Choso more than one night, unless your dad tells you to stay with him and your stepmom instead.

Who are you kidding? If Choso offers to let you stay longer, you would much rather stay there.

Your front door opens, and you jump in fear that your ex came back early. "Shhh, honey it's me." "C-Cho.." Choso walks across the room in quick strides to pull you into his strong embrace.

His hands gently cradle you against his body. "He doesn't deserve your tears Y/N. Don't give him the satisfaction." "Y-you tell me that after every breakup, Choso.." "I know. That's because none of them deserve your kindness."

You close your eyes and feel yourself relax in his strong arms. He's never let you down. Choso has been the only guy in your life to prove he would always be there for you. You truly trust him with your life.

That being said, you can't ignore the feelings that have formed over the years for your stepbrother.

Your fingers grip his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer to you. He sighs softly and buries his face in your hair. "Is there anything I can do for you, Y/N?" "Just... don't leave me. Please?"

His heart pounds in his chest at your feeble plea. His throat seems to dry, so he can't manage to speak. Finally, after what feels like an hour, he clears his throat.

"You know I won't, Y/N. I never have." "And never will?" His large hands squeeze your body a bit harshly, but your breath only increases at the feeling.

"I never will. Now, why don't we get you loaded into the car and get you home?" You finally pull away, blinking your still teary eyes at him so innocently. "Home..?"

The look on your face has his body on fire. You look so damn innocent, just like an angel. They're still red and puffy from your crying, but that only has him straining in his pants.

The things he would give to take the innocence from your face this second..

"Of course. My home is yours for as long as you need." He jingles his keys in an attempt for you to hurry and follow.

"What.. what about as long as I want..?"

That sentence has him blushing furiously. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. You're family and I love you, so my home is yours. We should go though. I don't want to-" His sentence is cut short when you wrap your small arms around his frame.

"Cho.. you're the only person in my life that cares this much.." "Don't say that, princess. You know that isn't true." His large hands are so gentle as they rub your back comfortingly. The small action has your heart pounding.

It also has your core burning for more.

"I-I want to stay with you." "Princess, then why are we still here?" There's a hint of laughter in his teasing tone. "I mean.. stay with you." You bury your face in his broad chest, hoping desperately that he gets the hint.

And oh boy does he ever. He can't help the small groan that escapes his throat at the mere thought.

"Y/N.. you don't mean that." You finally look up, shocked at the tint of rosiness on his usually pale cheeks.

"I-I do mean it.. You're the only guy who has ever-" "I'm family." "Not blood. D-Don't act like you don't feel the same Choso!" His eyes widen, and your accusation has him backing away from you, causing your hope to falter. Had you been mistaken this entire time? Had the stares and lingering touches really just been his own way of showing platonic affection.

"Choso.. I-" "Am I truly that obvious, Y/N?" You blink once, twice before giggling softly. "Y-yeah.. have I not been?" "No. Your.. attention always seemed to be on others. I just assumed.. you saw me as your big brother." You shake your head, walking slowly to stand directly in front of him again.

You've always thought his eyes were gorgeous, a slight grey tint over the almost golden color, they truly are their own unique shade, but right now they seem even brighter.

"I.. I was scared. People would.. call us freaks if anything came of any attraction to each other. I mean.. we've known forever that we weren't related, but our parents have been married-" "Going on ten years now. Even dated for five years before that. Trust me," his hand reaches to touch your cheek gently, as if he's afraid he could break you, "I've been bouncing the pros and cons in my head for so many fucking years."

Your cheek fits so easily in his palm, as if it was made to be there. "So.. who gives a damn about the cons anymore?" His eyes darken at your words, suddenly not focused on your gaze, but your lips. "I don't think I do, Princess." He suddenly turns the two of you, pressing your body into the wall that was originally behind him.

His lips hover centimeters over yours, making you whimper pathetically. "Tell me what you want. I'll give it to you, Y/N." His lips turn at the corners, making the already handsome guy seem even more so. Your hands reach out, gripping the loose t-shirt he's wearing tightly. "I-I need you, Cho. P-please?"

"Well, why don't we take this little.. fiasco to my place?" "No." He tilts his head in confusion as you smirk. "Fuck me on his bed.. onii-chan."

His lips are on yours the instant that word leaves your mouth. Despite the fact you're almost certain that Choso doesn't know what lip balm is, his lips are so plush and soft. It catches you off guard, causing you to moan softly in his mouth.

He isn't shy about exploring your body either. His hands grab every bit of plushness they can. Your hips, thighs, ass, until he finally reaches your breasts. His hands squeeze them harshly, not caring about any actual pain he could bring. You gasp in the kiss, which allows his tongue to finally invade your mouth, easily taking over as the dominant one.

He tastes faintly of cheap wine and cigarettes, but that doesn't shock you. You've spent multiple nights in his room smoking and drinking after rough breakups.

You have to smack at his shoulder a few times before he pulls away, leaving a strand of saliva connecting the two of you. He lets out a deep growl before grabbing your arm to yank you upstairs.

He kicks the bedroom door open, not caring about possibly busting the damn thing. "I have waited for so fucking long," he shoves you onto the queen sized bed that you once shared with your ex, "to have you all to myself. Now that I have you..." He pulls the shirt over his head, causing your eyes to shamelessly wander over his toned body. He catches your gaze, causing him to lick his bottom lip in anticipation. "Oh I am never letting you out of my grasp now, little one."

You sit up and, without a second thought, throw your shirt off and into the floor. "A bit possessive, are we?" He chuckles a bit darkly. "I don't see you complaining. Besides," he rips your pants off in one fluid motion, purring at the dark spot already staining your panties, "it seems you know who you belong to." His head is almost instantly between your legs, his hands shoving your thighs open effortlessly.

He licks a long stripe up your covered slit, causing you to mewl. "Go ahead, princess, tell me exactly who owns you." This time he places a small kiss just over your clit. "F-fuck, you!" "Hmmm," his hand comes down to smack your pussy with an unnecessary amount of force. "Not good enough. Try again." He lands another smack, this one making tears prick your eyes.

"W-what do y-you want-" you cry out as he lands two more smacks on you. The pain is startling at first, but it quickly has you moaning in pleasure. "How about that fun little nickname you've given so many men that have entered your bedroom?" You squeak, making him chuckle. "Oh come on, there's no way you thought I never heard you. Always had the fucking nerve," another smack, this one even harder, "to cry out for other men while I was in my bedroom dreaming of making those pretty eyes cry in my bed. Come on, call me that sweet little name and I'll fuck you better than any of those assholes could have."

The last smack has you screaming, and you can't seem to care that any of your neighbors could hear. "D-Daddy! Y-You own me! I-it's always been you, I swear daddy! P-Please fuck me, I-I need it!"

He groans loudly before ripping your panties from your body. "I'll have to remember that you beg beautifully once I get you home." Two of his fingers spread you apart, and he smirks at the puddle of essence already pooling on the bed. "So fucking wet for me, aren't you?" He doesn't give you a chance to answer before he buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved.

The sudden onslaught of pleasure makes you try and clamp your thighs closed, but one of his hands shoves it back down. His eyes look up at you as he continues to lap at your drooling pussy. The stare speaks every word he can't at the moment.

This is for his pleasure, not yours, and you're meant to lay back and take what he's giving you.

Your fingers tangle in his raven hair, and the slight pain has him growling against you. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit, sucking harshly, and he shoves two fingers into you without any warning.

You knew beforehand that Choso had slept with at least a few women, so he's not inexperienced, but you never knew that he was this experienced. His long fingers curl into you, pushing against the spot that has you screaming his name to the heavens. He has to rut against your mattress in a desperate attempt to get some sort of relief.

"D-Daddy.. I-I'm g-gonna cum.." He could already tell. Your walls sucked his fingers in as soon as they entered you, so he knew you wouldn't last much longer. "Hmmm," his sharp teeth nip your clit gently, but it still makes you squeak, "I sure hope you aren't telling daddy what you're going to do.. That would be awfully rude of you, little one."

The sheer dominance and control radiating from him has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Since when was your sweet step brother so demanding? "C-can I please cum, daddy? I-It feels t-too good.." You feel that damn smirk against your clit. "Of course, baby. Just scream my name when you do it, okay?"

He really must not like you talking much, because he doesn't let you answer him before he starts ruthlessly pounding his fingers into your cunt. Your entire body arches from the bed as you cry out for him. It takes one last flick of his tongue on your swollen bud to have you writing in the bed, coming completely undone before he even pulled his pants off.

He slows down, but doesn't completely stop, allowing you to ride out your high as he uses his tongue to lap up every drop of sweetness pouring from you. "Good girl, I've got you sweetheart. Are you feeling up for more, or do you need to stop until we go home?"

He sits up, eyeballing your form as he licks his lips clean, ignoring the fact he's dripping your own cum from his chin onto you.

You giggle, still a bit spaced out from the intense orgasm. "W-want you.. inside me, please daddy?" He chuckles softly before reaching to finally unhook your bra and fling it to the side. "Of course baby. Where are your condoms?" "D-Don't have any. I'm on.. the pill." His cheeks flush a bit, but he doesn't question anything else.

He makes quick work of his sweatpants, leaving him in only his boxers. The outline of his cock alone has you snapping back to reality. When he pulls the boxers down, you outwardly moan when it slaps back against his abdomen. He's much bigger than any guy you've had before. Also, it's so.. pretty.

The shaft is a lot like the rest of his skin, a very pale color that almost shines if sunlight hits it. The head is a soft pink, very reminiscent of the blushes he always seemed to get if you teased him too much, with droplets of precum around it. A large vein runs from the underside of it, and you can see it actually throb the more he stares at you.

"See something you like, love?" You whimper at the very affectionate nickname. "I-is it going to fit? I mean.. I've never.." "Don't worry, little one," he gently lays you back, "daddy will get it to fit. If it hurts too much, just let me know. Okay?" he grabs one of your exes' pillows, placing it gently under your lower back. "O-okay, daddy. I trust you."

His smile warms your heart. "That's my good girl. Spread your legs for me." You nod, following his instructions immediately. His hand reaches between the two of you, grabbing his cock and gently rubbing the tip around your entrance. "You sure you want this, Y/N? I don't want you to feel forced." You whimper, nodding instantly. "P-please fuck me, Choso.. I've waited so long.." You spread your legs more, effortlessly enticing him.

When his tip enters you, you're already a moaning mess. It just feels too good. He watches your expressions intently as he slowly pushes into you, searching for any signs of discomfort. Once he's about halfway in, he stops completely.

"How you doin' baby? Any pain?" He leans down to give you a gentle kiss. "G-good. I-it kinda burns, but nothing bad, I promise." He smiles against your mouth and starts to push in again. "We're almost there, little one. Just- fuuuuck." He finally bottoms out, the stretch of it making you whimper loudly and wiggle around. He pants on your face, the scent of you still heavy on his breath.

"S-so fucking tight.. can't believe this is happening..”

He chuckles softly, giving a tentative thrust into your heat. You bite down on your lip, finding both pain and pleasure in the burn that courses through your body. "D-daddy-" He cuts off the rest of your sentence by leaning back onto his knees and grabbing the back of both of your thighs. He manhandles you easily into what you can only assume is a mating press.

"So easy to throw around, aren't you? My pretty baby.." He pulls out of you until only his tip is still inside before slamming back in, causing you to see stars. "You take cock like a pro, baby. I wasn't sure a cute little thing like you could handle it." You tighten around him at his foul language, causing him to growl. "I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby. I'll make sure I'm the only one who can make you scream. You want that, baby? Want daddy to fuck the imprint of his cock into your slutty little hole?"

You throw your head back and cry out for him. "P-please! Make me your little toy, daddy. W-want you to own me.. prove who I belong to, please?" You know you've done it now from the way he snarls at you. However, the sudden ringing of your phone makes both of you freeze. He leans back up to wrap your thighs around his torso.

He's the first to reach to the floor and grab it, still buried deep inside of you. "Oh, lookie there.. a video call. Hello?" Did he-

"Choso? Where is Y/N? Why do you have her phone?" Your ex's voice sounds from the speaker, making your eyes shoot open. You meet Choso's eyes, mouthing the words 'hang up' over and over.

"What does it matter? She dumped you and called me." "Of course she did. Dude, let me talk to her." Choso chuckles darkly, finally thrusting into you, making you squeak loudly despite your best effort to stay quiet.

"What was that?" "Y/N. She's currently.. held up. Or.. down, rather." He smirks at his own joke, reaching down his free hand to start circling your clit with his middle finger. The feeling has you tightening your thighs around his waist.

"You... what?" "Are you deaf and stupid? I said she's busy, aren't you little one?" He smirks down at your form, panting and shaking your head in a desperate, silent plea. This can not be how everyone finds out about this. No way in hell.

Choso's mocking pout makes your face flare up. "She seems a little shy. Let me show you instead." "N-no! Choso I-!" The choking gasp from the phone call shuts you up. Choso's eyes show no mercy as he looks at you almost amused. "That isn't what you should be calling me, is it?"

You look directly at the camera on the back of your phone, your face a deep scarlet color. Before you can correct yourself, the hand that was idly playing with your clit launches up, smacking your cheek with enough force to have your eyes switch to his. He smirks and shoves his index and middle fingers in your mouth without warning, making the ring he wears clack a bit painfully into your teeth.

"Pretty little whore just needs to learn some manners. Don't you, love?" He gets a wicked grin seeing how you blabber around his digits, trying so desperately to behave and give him an answer. "Sorry, princess, I didn't quite hear you. Try again for daddy." He shoves his fingers farther down your throat, causing you to gag and cough. Spit pours out of your kiss bruised lips, making Choso moan above you.

Your teary eyes make him pull his fingers out, wiping the spit across your face. "Why didn't you tell me you couldn't speak? Silly little girl. Now, what should you be calling me?" "D-Daddy! I'm s-so sorry.." He groans, running his thumb down your bottom lip. He gently pries your mouth open before leaning over you, letting spit fall from his tongue into your waiting mouth. He purrs as you swallow it so obediently. "I know you are. You're such a good girl for me. Oh, he hung up." Choso chuckles softly and tosses your phone back to the floor.

"I believe that I have some work to finish, right baby?" Both of his hands grab your hips, surely leaving bruises, before he starts to mercilessly ram into your sopping cunt. Your throat is still somewhat raw from his fingers being in it not two minutes ago, but he's determined to pull every sound he can from you.

He slides one hand down, harshly pinching and rolling your swollen clit between two fingers. Your cries only encourage his ruthless actions.

"D-daddy I-I.. something.. something doesn't-" Your pleas are cut off when the hand on your hip actually lifts you off the bed, giving him enough access for the tip of his cock to batter into your cervix.

If you aren't sore tomorrow, he hasn't done his job.

Sweat drips down his forehead and chest as he growls deeply. "There we go baby. T-that's the spot. Cum for daddy, want you screaming until my name is the only t-thing you know." His hand starts slapping your exposed clit again, finally throwing you over the edge. When the coil in your abdomen snaps, you scream his name, raw throat be damned.

Choso hisses as you tighten around his cock, spraying his lower abdomen in your essence. "Sh-shit I-" His sentence trails off when he thrusts into you one more time, letting out an animalistic snarl as his own climax washes over him.

You can feel his cock throb as he unloads his seed deep inside you. The feeling makes you tremble and mewl. There's so much of it that it still manages to spill out, staining the bed sheets under you.

He's still panting pretty heavily when he slides out of you, careful in case you're still too sensitive. When you squeak, he reaches up to cup your cheek. "You did so well, baby. I'm so proud of you." You nuzzle into his hand, placing a small kiss in the palm. "Th-thank you, daddy. I-I'm so tired." When your eyes start to flutter shut, he carefully stands from the bed, shamelessly admiring your disheveled state. "I'm sure you are. Let me get us cleaned up. Then I'll take you home, okay?"

Your small nod is plenty of an answer, so he rushes to the bathroom to search for a rag. He takes only a few seconds to wipe himself clean before rushing back to your side. You wince slightly at the feeling of the cloth wiping you down. "Shhhh, daddy's got you baby. I'll be done in just a second." He smiles to himself as you visibly relax into his touch, allowing him to finish.

"You know," he chuckles as he helps you pull your clothes back on, "your dad is going to try and kill me." "Your mom is going to call me every name in the book." He nods in agreement, finally starting to dress himself.

"So.. should we stay quiet? I imagine shit-for-brain isn't going to, but we can play that off as him being an idiot." You bite your lip, weighing the consequences of either decision.

There's no doubt in your mind, you want to be with Choso. It's clear he's willing to do whatever you want, but from the look in his eyes, the answer is obvious.

"I'm not hiding it." He blinks at you in shock. "B-baby.. your repu-" You stand up, despite your legs screaming in pain. He's quick to rush over and pull you into his chest. "I don't care.. I love you, and I don't want to hide it anymore." You squeak loudly when he picks you up bridal style, holding you easily with one arm.

The kiss he gives you is soft and loving, full of nothing but his affection for you. "I love you too, Y/N. I want nothing more than to tell the world that."

He carries you downstairs to grab your overnight bag, and then out to put you in his car. He really refuses to let you do anything, since he even leans inside to buckle you up. Your protests have him laughing. "When you're with me," he kisses your lips after getting into the driver's seat, "you're the spoiled princess. Got it?"

The drive to his house is quiet. He holds your hand the entire time, stroking along it with his thumb, occasionally bringing it to his mouth and kissing each knuckle.

"Oh.. oh shit." "What?" You open your eyes from almost falling asleep.

Your blood freezes when you see what he's looking at. Your dad's car is already parked in his driveway.

Tags: @katgalle, @savonline

#dark content #stepcest tw #choso #choso jjk #jjk choso #stepbrother choso #jjk #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo #choso smut #choso x reader #choso x reader smut #choso x fem reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso brainrot #choso supremacy

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

Text

I wonder what it’s like to be loved by you // Benedict Bridgerton

Summary: You’ve loved him for as long as you can remember. Is this the season where he finally realises?

A/N: I LOVE BENEDICT. I love him so much. What do I have to do to get a Benedict? Title is from Shawn Mendes - Wonder. I had so much fun writing this fic, I can’t wait to write more for the Bridgerton fandom! I truly hope you all like it, let me know what you think please?

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of food and drink, fluff, pining, mutual pining, dancing, balls, obliviousness, friends to lovers, she/her pronouns, a lot of history - I am a historian after all and this is the regency era.

Word count: 4.8k

Lady Danbury never spared any expense on the balls she held every season. She knew full well that many a match could be made that night so there was not only pressure from the ton, but also a responsibility that this ball must outdo all others thrown before – by herself and other matriarchs in society.

A feat she always managed to achieve, the elder thinks to herself as she watches your eyes widen upon entering the ornately decorated room. Looking you up and down, she approves of your outfit – a dark blue dress punctuated with silver jewellery, hair twisted into an updo with only a few strands hanging loose to frame your face. From her spot across the ballroom, Lady Danbury wonders how you hadn’t married yet.

As the band strikes up, Lady Danbury walks into the fray, greeting her guests with a smile. All the while, she keeps a trained eye on you, wondering who on earth had captured your heart but had not noticed.

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

No matter how hard he tried, the charcoal would not wash from his fingers. Having scrubbed and scrubbed at his hands, Benedict could only offer you a smile of apology as you not only noted his lateness but the state of his hands.

“It’s very fortunate that you are a talented artist,” You comment with a teasing smile.

Benedict reaches for your hand, dropping a kiss to the back of it before answering. “I class myself as very fortunate to have a friend like you who understands how easy it is to get lost in a sketch or a painting.”

You roll your eyes, careful not to let anyone else but Benedict see your act of impropriety. He smirks, unable to help himself.

“You’re a shameful flatterer, Benedict.”

“Some might even call me a ‘rake’,” He replies, his tone teasing.

“I shall save that for when you’ve really annoyed me.”

He laughs; a loud chuckle that draws the attention of those closest to you. Most notably, Benedict’s mother, Violet Bridgerton and Lady Danbury.

Benedict clears his throat; cheeks flushed not only from the attention but from the knowledge that his mother would soon be making her way over to him. He adored his mother; was grateful for her every day, but he could happily admit he could live without the meddling in his love life. He grabs your gloved hand once more; kissing the back of it in parting before asking, “Save me a dance on your card?”

“Always,” You answer, watching his back as he stalks away. Benedict narrowly avoids being collared by his mother, an act to which you find yourself smiling at.

With thoughts of Benedict in mind, you wander around the outskirts of the ballroom, your dark blue skirts swishing pleasantly under foot. You pause only to grab a lemonade from the table, sipping happily at the cold drink.

You catch sight of the brunette that had stolen your heart dancing with Penelope Featherington and though you know there is no romance there, your heart is unable to stop the hurt that lashes through it. Schooling your face into a mask of polite delight, you force yourself to turn away from the sight of the man you had so readily given your heart to dancing with someone else.

“How long have you been in love with my brother?” A raspy voice asks from behind you.

Your lemonade splashes slightly as you turn to face your interrogator. “Eloise!” You laugh, smiling too wide to be comfortable, “Whatever do you mean?”

Eloise’s shrewd blue eyes narrow slightly as she takes in your dismissal. She waves her hand in the general direction of Benedict though you knew exactly where he was – could feel his location thrumming in your veins.

“Don’t play coy, (Y/N). It doesn’t become you. Now, how long have you been in love with Benedict?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? How long had you loved Benedict? Thinking back on it, you’re sure that you’ve always loved him. Your family had been good friends with the Bridgerton family for as long as you could remember. Your mother was always having tea with Violet and you were always thrust upon the eight siblings without much worry. Your friendship with Benedict had started in earnest when you had complimented his art skills, bringing up how you liked to draw too. From there, a close friendship was forged.

By your twentieth year on this earth, you realised that your feelings for the second Bridgerton were no longer platonic… that you craved something more. Falling for Benedict Bridgerton felt inevitable almost; that your heart was destined to be his whether he knew it or not.

Sighing heavily, you see no point in lying to the second eldest Bridgerton girl. “For as long as I can remember,” You admit, rushing to add on, “But he doesn’t know so please don’t tell him!”

Eloise’s eyes widen at your confession, not only shocked that you readily admitted your feelings for her elder brother, but for how long you have harboured them. “Is that why you have not yet married?” She demands, “Because you loved him?”

Biting your lip, you nod. “It wouldn’t be fair to my husband. Their wife in love with another man – it doesn’t exactly set stable foundations for a long, prosperous marriage and…”

“And…” Eloise prompts, her innate curiosity getting the better of her. If her mother could hear her now, she would surely receive a scolding.

You ball your hands into fists before letting them drop to your sides; letting them hang there like the constant hope you have for Benedict.

“And I still hope he’ll notice I’m here. That I have been here all along,” You voice cracks on the admission causing a pang of upset to flash through Eloise. She’d reach out to comfort you, but it would only draw attention from the many mothers circling and no doubt, Lady Whistledown.

“(Y/N)…” Eloise begins but you hold a single hand up to stop her before she starts. With a strained smile, you reassure her. “It’s fine, Eloise. I accept it with every season that passes that it is unlikely he shall ever return my feelings.”

“Then he is a fool,” Eloise states plaining, sending a glare in the direction of her beloved brother. She had no qualms admitting that Benedict was indeed her favourite sibling, but he had his moments where he vexed her beyond belief.

“Who is a fool?” A voice questions to the right of you. Benedict.

Freezing in place, you cast a helpless look at Eloise, begging her silently to take control of this situation. Eloise smiles and nods imperceptibly. She turns towards her brother, hooking her arm through yours as she declares, “The men that have not offered their hand to (Y/N) yet. They’re all fools, aren’t they dear brother.”

Benedict casts his gaze towards you; his eyes scanning your face for what, he does not know. “Fools,” He agrees quietly though he is heard perfectly over the music. “Would you care to dance?” He asks, wanting you to himself for a little while. As much as he loved his younger sister, she was a keen observer, and he wasn’t ready for her to figure out his feelings just yet. Not when he hadn’t admitted them to you.

Nodding your head, you take his outstretched hand, bidding goodbye to Eloise for now. The brunette shakes her head as the both of you walk away. Oblivious, she thinks to herself, completely oblivious.

As the music strikes up once more, it becomes obvious that the next dance is a waltz, requiring the closeness of your partner. It was only years ago that this dance had scandalised the ton for its closeness – now, it was required at every ball, many married couples savouring the intimacy.

Benedict’s hand settles on the small of your back as his other grips your hand. Your hand rests comfortably on his shoulder as he begins to lead you through the steps you have known since your youth.

Music around you fades as do the other couples. The only two people in the room are Benedict and yourself. The feel of his hand on your back and the look in his eyes; it’s enough to have you accept your fate then and there. It’s enough for you to admit that you have been ruined for any and all men; finding yourself in love with the man who holds you so tenderly and has always held you in high regard. Is this it? You ask yourself, is this what it feels like to be loved by him? To feel like the only one in the world. If it is, you’ll take it with open hands.

Your eyes do not leave his as Benedict leads you through the rises and falls of the dance. His hand remains a steady presence on your lower back; the feeling just enough to distract you from the crowd now watching you and instead, leading you to wonder what his hands would feel like elsewhere on your body.

As the music falls into another song; this one more upbeat, Benedict drops his hands, letting you free. He hadn’t wanted to; had wanted to pull you from the ballroom, to confess the feelings that have haunted him for years and to ask you to be his for better or for worse.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he bows and smiles, reaches for your hand to kiss it and then lets himself breathe as he turns and walks away.

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

Dear Reader,

Though there is much to report from Lady Danbury’s ball last night – the fashion, the food, the décor – This Author wants to focus on one moment in particular.

Now, Dear Reader, whilst you may wonder the importance of such a moment, remember that it is one’s job to observe all. That is why I want to bring attention to Mr. Benedict Bridgerton who found himself extremely popular last night, dancing with many eligible women and delighting them with his talents.

However, Dear Reader, this is not the moment I want to focus on.

No. Instead, I want to bring attention to the heart most likely suffering in silence as Mr. Bridgerton continues to charm the ton.

As you all know, I am not one to beat around the proverbial bush and hide identities, but for the sake of the woman who has found herself in love with the second eldest Bridgerton for as long she can remember, I shall endeavour to keep her name a secret.

Know, however, that This Author’s sympathies lie with you.

To love another unrequitedly is a dear shame.

----------

The gossip sheet is scrunched to a ball in your hands. It’s all you can do to keep the tears from falling down your face. As if you didn’t know your love was unrequited; as if you didn’t know you had all but doomed yourself to being a spinster as you wait for a man who did not know you loved him.

Lady Whistledown knew your secret, and your identity. As a result, the whole ton knew your secret but whatever morals the author possesses, she had not revealed your identity.

Summoning the carriage, you ask to be taken to Bridgerton House where you can speak to Eloise in confidence and ask for her advice on what she might do. Deep down, you had to know whether Benedict had read the paper too.

It doesn’t take long for Eloise to find you in the tea room; a cup of tea in your hands but readily ignored as you chew on the inside of your cheek. Her brown hair tied up in her usual bun, her eyes hold the pity you didn’t want to see or hear as of this moment.

“I didn’t know she was listening, I swear,” Eloise promises, sitting by your side and reaching for your hand.

“I know,” You comfort, “You would never tell a soul.”

“At least she didn’t reveal your identity,” Eloise chirps, trying to find a silver lining.

“Yet she has revealed my secret to the entirety of London society,” You sigh. Removing your hand from Eloise’s, you press your palm to your forehead, feeling overwhelmingly tired and desperate for the day to be over already. “Does he know?”

Eloise chews on her bottom lip, deciding whether to answer you. “He has read it,” She admits, but rushes to add, “He doesn’t know it’s you! He doesn’t have a clue really. He’s angrier at himself for not noticing anything was amiss.”

“I don’t know what to do,” You whisper, feeling helpless.

“For now,” Eloise states, “We do nothing.”

---------

Your heels sink into the soft carpet as you wander down the stairs, pausing only to check you have everything. Your mind remains elsewhere as you check your bag out of habit, the conversation with Eloise, the latest gossip sheet, your feelings for Benedict. They circle around your mind, leaving you dizzy in their wake as you try to make sense of them all, try to find your next step in and amongst the mess.

“(Y/N),” Benedict greets, hurrying down the final few stairs, pleasantly surprised, “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were visiting.”

“I came to drop in on Eloise. I wanted to thank her for last night; she was an ear when I needed someone to listen.”

“Is it anything I can help with?” He asks, voice taking on a concerned note as he reaches out for you.

You shake your head, squeezing his hand in return. “For now, everything is okay.”

Benedict clears his throat. “I’m glad to hear it, but please come to me next time. I want to help if I can.”

“I will,” You promise, your eyes now scanning over his fine clothes. “Where are you off to?”

“An art exhibition at Somerset House. They’re showing some Holbein’s from the Royal collection.”

“Holbein’s?” You ask, shocked at the name falling from Benedict’s mouth.

He nods, just as excited. It was a rare thing indeed to have Holbein’s on display; they were usually kept in whatever royal residence they found themselves in; hidden away from the public eye. Art was the very foundation of your friendship; having seen so many of his sketches as a young boy and watching them develop into surer lines and confident strokes. Benedict was an exceptionally talented artist – something he would say about yourself. Benedict was the only person to see such work; the watercolours in your sketchpad leaving him breathless as you bring life to the inanimate.

“Would you like to join me?” He asks before he can talk himself out of it. He had barely seen you all season; you had closed in yourself, as if accepting a fate that you did not want. Benedict would do what he could to ensure your happiness for a little bit longer.

“Unchaperoned?”

A faint blush rises on Benedict’s cheeks as he realises what he has asked of you. “I shall ask Eloise to accompany us,” He suggests, turning to face the direction in which you had just come, “Did she mention any plans to you?”

You shake your head to which Benedict leases a sigh of relief. “I’ll go ask her now. I’m sure she won’t mind… much.”

Laughing quietly, you wait patiently in the entryway of Bridgerton House. The house in London so often felt like a second home to you; spending so much of childhood summers here when your mother would take tea with the Bridgerton matriarch. As you grew into your teens, you would begin to visit the house with just your maid, calling on the family for social niceties. The friendship with Benedict and Eloise only solidified your standing in the close family unit.

Eloise’s voice brings you back to the present. She walks down the stairs, accompanied by her brother. Taking one look at you, waiting patiently for the both of them, Eloise gets a mischievous look in her eye. It isn’t a look that leaves you in comfort, but rather leaves you wondering just what she has planned for the art exhibition.

“Eloise has so graciously accepted to join us,” Benedict announces, sounding rather pleased with himself.

Eloise smiles: a smile that sets Benedict’s nerves on edge. He would owe her for this, that much he knew. “I would be more than happy to accompany you, brother.”

Benedict resists the urge to groan; he’s in deep shit for this.

“Thank you, Eloise,” You murmur with a smile. Something in Eloise softens at your tone as if she would be unable to deny you this time with Benedict when it was their mother’s mission to see him married off this very season.

“Of course,” Eloise allows, glancing between you and Benedict – noting the longing in both sets of eyes. She shakes her head, gesturing to the door and where the carriages waits just beyond it. “Shall we?”

--------

“He wasn’t a handsome monarch, was he?” Eloise murmurs quietly, staring up at the grand portrait of the fearsome king who preferred executing his wives rather than loving them.

The walls of Somerset House have become dedicated to the eyes of the past. Past monarchs and relatives decorate the walls; their eyes following each attendant, as if curious to see how society is progressing less than three hundred years after the death of the artist.

Benedict chuckles; the very sound raising goosebumps across your skin. You barely repress the shiver the sound elicits. Trying your best to listen as the siblings argue about the reign of this particular monarch – the pros and the cons to what he did for the very country he ruled over for decades.

“Oh!” Eloise gasps, interrupting the argument and loosening her grip on your arm, she waves frantically at Penelope Featherington. “Would you mind terribly if I go say hello?”

“Not at all,” You laugh.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay with Benedict?”

The man in question scoffs, rolling his eyes at his little sister. “Off with you,” He dismisses, “I’ll escort (Y/N) – someone who actually appreciates the art.”

Eloise laughs as she turns away, but you do not miss the wink she sends in your direction. It hits you all at once; her mischievous look before you all left the house. She had concocted this plan in her head; accepting to accompany you as a rouse to get you and Benedict alone.

You didn’t know whether to appreciate her genius or hide her favourite book.

Jumping at the sound of someone clearing their throat, you focus your attention on Benedict. He watches you with an amused look, and it’s then that you realise that he has stood beside you waiting with his arm out for a minute or so whilst you glared after his younger sister. Taking his arm, you rid yourself of any thoughts of violence against Eloise. Instead, focusing on the man beside you.

“How are you?” You ask, hand resting gently on Benedict’s forearm.

“Do you mean in general or after today’s publication?”

“Both, I suppose.”

“In general, I am quite well. I have a wonderful lady on my arm, and I am in the presence of excellent art work. However, after today’s publication, I must admit I am rather angry.”

“Oh?” You sound, trying hard not to let his words affect you so much but they rattle around your mind on repeat, committing themselves where they will last for an eternity.

“I’ve never been the focus of the gossip paper and now after one ball, I am. I don’t think I like the attention.”

“I don’t believe that for one second, Benedict Bridgerton.”

He pauses, smiling widely down at you. His eyes light up with the smile and your heart begins to pound at the sight of it. “Alright, I do like the attention,” He concedes, “But what I don’t like are the looks I’m getting from all mothers.”

“Why?”

“They all look like I’m about to break their daughter’s heart.”

“I’m sure you’re just imagining things,” You reassure, tightening your grip on his arm.

“I don’t think I am,” He states, nodding politely at Lady Whitelaw who in turn glares at the younger man. He turns his gaze to you as if to say, see?

You turn your face away from him, trying your best to hide the smile and laugh that threatens to break free. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” Benedict guesses, a smile in his own voice.

“I’m not,” You promise, schooling your face into a mask of indifference, focusing on the closest sketch to you. A graphite sketch of Anne Boleyn; marking her beauty only years before her death.

“You are,” Benedict argues, standing beside you, admiring the same sketch. Throwing him a knowing smile, you turn your attentions to rest of the exhibition, unable to hide your awe at just what is being shown to the public.

The art is incredible; your watercolours barely compare to what is being shown in Somerset House. He would disagree in a heartbeat, but Benedict could come close to producing something of this calibre. He had shown his portraits of his mother and brothers; Anthony making the perfect candidate for a painting.

You come to a natural stop in front of a portrait of a young women. A young queen, in fact. This particular queen had never got to reign in the manner that she was capable, dying after giving birth the king’s heir. His one true love, the king had called her after he death.

“She’s beautiful,” You whisper, admiring not only the artistry but also the focus on the painting.

Benedict watches you admiring the portrait painted so carefully by Holbein. Though the portrait is indeed beautiful, Benedict finds himself agreeing that they do not hold a candle to you. As he watches you lift a single hand, trying to dampen the urge to run your fingers over the brush strokes, he thinks to himself that there would be no artist on this earth that would be so talented to capture your beauty.

His breath comes faster; his heart rate increases. He recognises the symptoms; he’s only experienced such signs before. He had been eighteen then; barely a man but man enough to accept that he had fallen in love with his best friend. Years later, here he was, experiencing such feelings once more. Once more, he wonders what it would be like to be loved by you. He cannot help but hope that the mystery woman in the society papers is you.

-------

Dear Reader,

It seems that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton reads my paper!

He was overheard at the Somerset House Holbein exhibition, complaining to Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) about my last column in which I criticised his treatment of the lady in love with him.

All I have to say on the matter is this:

Mr. Bridgerton, for every complaint you offer, you break her heart further. Stop now before you do irreparable damage.

-----

“What does she mean ‘break her heart further’? I’ve been trying to figure out who it is so I can put a stop to it!”

“It doesn’t matter whether you know who it is, Benedict,” You argue, placing your teacup on the table, “But rather the fact that you unknowingly hurt whoever it is that is in love with you.”

“Do my feelings not matter?” He demands, throwing the damned paper onto the table. Benedict runs a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. “I’m sorry,” He apologises, “I should not have taken that tone with you. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You’re forgiven,” You laugh, “I’ve heard you say a lot worse.”

He smiles though it doesn’t reach his eyes. Leaning forward on your chair, you wring your hands together, working up the nerve. “What feelings haven’t they taken into account?”

“Lady Whistledown,” He spits the name with derision, “Hasn’t taken into account that I may not have noticed someone in love with me because I am in love with someone myself.”

It’s as if the chair is pulled out from under you; your stomach dips and flips as the world crashes around you and Benedict is none the wiser. He’s none the wiser to the palpable shift that has taken place. Instead, he’s sat down across from, looking utterly defeated.

“Does she know?” You ask after a moment of silence, using the time to pull yourself back together, to compile it all and put it away for later.

Benedict shakes his head; eyes sad as he watches you. “Why haven’t you told her?” You ask, unable to stop the questions now they’re on the tip of your tongue.

“I suppose for the same reason she hasn’t told me. Fear maybe?”

“Fear of what? I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything.”

“Fear of rejection. Fear of humiliation. Fear of ruining a friendship,” He lists off, counting the reasons on his fingers, holding them up for you to see.

“Have you thought about telling her?”

“All the time,” He answers honestly, and you wonder whether the crack your heart makes was audible to the whole of the ton.

“Do you plan on telling them?”

“Eventually.”

You take a deep breath, staring at the teacup instead of him, readying yourself to offer up your broken heart. To confess that the two most recent society papers have been about you; have shown your heart to the whole of London.

“It’s me,” You confess quietly, voice no louder than a whisper but he hears you all the same.

Benedict’s head whips towards you. Had this been another situation, it would have been funny, but the look on his face… “What?” He whispers, shocked.

“It’s me,” You announce; louder this time, ready to lay your heart out on the floor for him to break entirely. “It’s me, Benedict. Lady Whistledown must have overheard Eloise and myself talking at Lady Danbury’s ball the other night. She had caught me watching you dance and asked me outright. I couldn’t deny it. I’ve been in love with you for years, Benedict. For as long as I can remember.”

“For as long as you can remember?”

You nod, wringing your hands together once more. “I didn’t realise until I turned twenty, just what my feelings meant. I think I’ve always been in love with you, Benedict.”

Benedict remains silent; eyes wide, hands slack as they rest on his thighs. He looks like he doesn't believe the very words leaving your mouth; as if he is unworthy of the love you offer him so willingly.

“Say something, please,” You plead, “I know it isn’t proper for the woman to announce her feelings for the man, but I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. Not when it is the focus for Lady Whistledown to sell more copies of her paper.”

“I didn’t know,” He whispers after a prolonged silence.

“You weren’t to know. You don’t have to feel the same, Benedict.”

“I do as it happens.”

“What?”

“I do feel the same,” Benedict clarifies, standing from his chair, “I’ve loved you since I was eighteen.”

You sniffle slightly; emotional from hearing the words you have longed to hear for years. The words that have haunted your dreams; had you rushing from sleep, so you didn’t let yourself believe an alternate reality.

“You do?”

Benedict nods, “I do. I love you very much.”

“I love you too,” You reply, standing from your chair, reaching for him – not wanting anymore space between the two of you.

He dips his head, pausing mere millimetres away from your lips. The question burns in his eyes; desperate to know whether he can kiss you after so long waiting. Your nod is barely imperceptible but it’s nod, nonetheless.

Slowly, almost wanting to savour every moment, Benedict presses his lips to yours. Reaching up, you haul him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him pressed against you after having waited so long, after having dreamed of this moment for too long.

He tastes like tea and his hands bring to life the butterflies in your stomach as they wander the path of your back, settling on your lower back, dipping you slightly. Benedict groans softly at the feel of you lined up against him. If he had known heaven was this close, he would not have waited this long.

Benedict breaks the kiss; not out of need of air, but to stop himself from taking this too far when you feel like heaven pressed against him. You smile widely, kissing his jaw lovingly before starting to laugh lightly. Benedict’s hands on your waist tighten possessively as he joins you in laughter.

Briefly, he wonders whether this is what it feels like to be loved by you.

********

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