#if i pace myself i should be okay. today i did not pace myself. and instead zoned in and lost uh

[ourceliumnetwork]

you know, this morning my agenda for the day was cleared. I thought up some errands to take care of tomorrow in one fell swoop, and then it turned out I was gonna get a buddy and the opportunity to take care of about half of it today which, baller, am i right? Plan is to get back out tomorrow at some point and take care of the rest of it and once my brain catches up that the hardest of the trips is out of the way, we'll be set lol

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

first fall of snow

how spencer guesses you're pregnant before you actually tell him

fluff word count: 1390 warnings & tags & stuff: pregnant reader, slight issues with mother mentioned?, non-graphic vomiting, mentions/allusions to winter holidays being celebrated, kinda spencer's pov but still 2nd pov, reader is scared spencer will leave her lol, anxious!reader in general, mentions of death?, probably medical inaccuracies ive never been pregnant author's note: hiiii i'm forcing myself to post this because if i don't then i'll never post and i'm being BRAVE. i hope it can be a little comforting maybe. i've realllyyyy been struggling with my take on spencer's characterization lately soo this was kinda like a bootcamp/exercise situation into his mind and less an expression of my writing skills, iykwim. let me know your thoughts if u have any! i love you & have a splendid day!!

Spencer is walking—speed walking—toward his car, away from the case he just finished, away from serial killers and guns and geographical profiling and death.

He places his feet carefully on the snow-covered sidewalk with each step, the cold air biting at his face. He barely notices it, absorbed in the path ahead, as the snow provides a satisfying crunch underfoot—a nice background to his perpetually racing mind.

He doesn’t like the winter. It’s always too harsh outdoors, and too stuffy indoors, and he’s trapped in a suffocating haze no matter where he goes. 

His phone starts to vibrate gently in his pocket, interrupting his racing thoughts for a split second. His pace falters as he pulls it free, a quick smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he sees it’s your name on the screen.

“Hi. How are you?” he asks after picking up, watching his breath come out in puffs of vapor in the cold air.

Winters, however, have gotten progressively better each year he spends with you.

“...I’m okay,” you say, though the crack in your voice reveals the all-consuming ache in your bones and mind.

“No. You’re overwhelmed,” he guesses in his matter-of-fact way, voice gentle. You huff out a soft laugh at his ability to read you, never getting old.

“Yeah, I guess. A little. The holiday season, you know. Are you on your way home?” you ask, voice softer now. You’re sitting on the couch of yours and Spencer’s cozy apartment, wrestling with a blanket to cover your lap, and bouncing your leg relentlessly.

“I’m walking to the car now. Hey, have you done the crossword today?” Spencer asks, words a familiar, tender remedy for your nerves. You told him a long time ago that hearing his voice makes you feel better, and there are times, like these, where he just knows it’s what you need. You rest our head on the arm of the couch, curling up.

“No, I didn’t have the time. Why?”

“There was an interesting question about causes of death in Shakespeare plays, but they completely messed up the part of speech. It read, ‘Popular ways to die by the hands of England’s national poet’. I thought it was ‘poisons’ at first, but it was actually ‘stabbed’, even though the correct answer grammatically should’ve been ‘stabs’ or ‘stabbings’,” he says, his car now in sight through the steady sprinkle of snow coming down. “Do you think I should send an email to let them know? I guess stabbing does make more sense, though, versus poison, because throughout his works, thirty characters out of his 74 that died were stabbed compared to only four that were poisoned. Three were stabbed and poisoned. Did you know that two were actually baked into pies, which is a-”

“Oh my god, the pie,” you groan, cutting him off mid-sentence, sitting up hastily, the blanket falling to the floor.

“Pie?”

“Yeah. My mom coerced me into making it to bring tomorrow.” You pad over to the kitchen and crouch down to peek through the hazy glass of the oven, inspecting it. “Oh,” you murmur. “It’s…not pretty.”

He sandwiches the phone in between his ear and shoulder, gently opening the door to his car to sit down as he listens to you. He turns the heat on, exhaling in an exhausted relief, hovering his hand over where the air comes out. 

“Can you tell me what it looks like? Maybe I can help,” he suggests, leaning back against the headrest and letting his eyes close for a second. You put the phone on speaker, setting it on the counter as you bend down to take it out. “Don’t burn yourself,” he adds, hearing what you’re doing.

“I’m not going to burn my-” you cut yourself off with a huff. “Whatever. It’s just really messy. There’s like… liquid overflowing where the lattice should be.”

He hums. “How long has it been cooking for?”

“45 minutes. My mom sent me this one ancient recipe that I had to use written on parchment paper from like 70 years ago, and it does not have a bake time listed, so I’m just eyeballing it.”

“Okay. You could either put it back in the oven in hopes that more of the liquid will evaporate, or you can leave it out to cool down and hopefully thicken,” he says.

“What do you think I should do?”

“I think you sound exhausted and need your sleep.” 

You sigh, staring at your mess of a pie, hopes that you’ll appease your mother this year slipping further and further away, soon to be completely buried by the snow.

“Hey. I’m sure it’ll taste really good. Besides, people still liked Shakespeare, and he wrote about much worse pies than you could ever make.” 

A smile pulls at your lips.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll just leave it out to cool and head to bed. Will you stay on the phone a little longer?” you ask, padding over to your shared bedroom.

“Of course.”

He doesn’t start driving as you talk, not when nearly 2000 people die per year due to driving on icy roads, and two thirds of them were people who were reported to not be paying close enough attention.

And especially not when 54 hours ago on your last phone call, he noticed a drastic shift in your behavior, and was quickly able to tell that you were pregnant. 

He had too much waiting for him at home to be spinning out on black ice because he was talking to you and not watching the road.

He chooses instead to look outside at the falling snow, blanketing the city, his city, the very first for D.C. to have this winter out of the septillion snowflakes planet earth receives each year.

…

Spencer gets home a little later that night, holding another pint of cherries in his hands. Not for the pie—which he turns to see resting on the stove and winces slightly at—but for you. 

Cherries, with their 342 mg of potassium per cup, help replenish lost electrolytes and can soothe nausea.

He’s expecting it to start any day now.

He quietly steps into the bedroom, setting his bag by the door to be dealt with tomorrow. The soft glow of the lamp that was left on, presumably for him by your endlessly considerate heart, provides just enough light so he can get changed. He then finally clambers into bed next to you, one hand reaching out to lace in your hair, moving his fingers to gently scratch by the nape of your neck. He lifts the other to rest, like you're made of a delicate china, on your lower stomach, sighing in pure relief the second it makes contact.

You turn sleepily, humming when you’re met with the sight of him. “Spence,” you murmur, contented.

“Hi. I really didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m sorry,” he says, so quietly.

“I'm glad you did. I like it when you wake me.” You tuck yourself closer to him. “I love you.” His hand comes to trace gentle patterns all over your back and arm, and he gives you a little kiss, adoringly.

“Go back to sleep. I love you.”

You let your eyes shut once again, this time much easier now that he’s with you. You inhale his scent, which you swear could repair anything broken or lost in this world. You exhale, wondering if he’d still hold you the same way after learning that you’re carrying his child. 

It’s a scary thought, but you’re comforted by his warm touch, pushing you farther out into the deep sea of sleep.

Once your breaths get steady and your mouth parts slightly, he adds, in a whisper, “Both.”

…

The next morning, when you’re hunched over the toilet bowl, Spencer is there with you, rubbing your back and wiping your teary eyes. You look up to him after brushing your teeth, and no words are exchanged. He tugs you into his arms, silently quelling any of the countless anxieties swarming your mind, at least in this moment.

His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He lets it rest there, cupping your jaw.

“Let’s go shopping after breakfast today, okay? You need prenatal vitamins.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“And a new pie.”

[likeumeanit9497]

red pill | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n is keeping score of a strange game between her friends when things get a little bit out of control ;)

warnings: SMUT; unprotected p in v; oral (m receiving); fingering; spanking; hair pulling; dirty talk; use of boner pillz; face fucking; 18+

notes: this has been sitting half-finished in my drafts since the triplets posted that one photo dump (iykyk) and i FORGOT ABOUT IT until today. when i first started writing this i couldn't decide if it should be a matt or chris fic but was obviously going through a chris phase when i started it soooo chris girlies this is for u. HOWEVER stay tuned matt girls because i plan on making a blue pill version;) anyways love y'all lots MUAH MUAH MUAH

“This is so fucking stupid.” Matt groaned, sitting in between his brothers on the living room couch, holding a single red pill delicately in between two fingers as though it was a toxin. “Bro you’re the one who came up with the idea and bought them.” Chris retorted, inspecting the identical pill in his own hand. “Yeah, and I have no fucking clue why I agreed to this.” Nick chimed in, his voice filled with misery. “Because you can never turn down a competition.” I replied cheekily from my place on the other couch, giggling at the boys’ petty arguing.

Leaning forward, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket — opening up the timer app and hovering my finger over the start button. “Now hurry up and take them dummies, I’ll keep score.” I peered up at them as they gave each other tentative looks, seemingly hoping that one was going to have a change of heart. When nothing but silence followed, they all seemed to unanimously commit, dropping the red pills on their tongues and chasing them down with soda. As soon as they swallowed, I started the timer and sat back; crossing my arms across my chest with a smirk plastered to my face.

After the guys had posted the video at the gas station where Matt was talking about his idea for the sex pills, I had jokingly messaged him saying that I would gladly keep score if they really did it. Taking my message seriously, Matt had secretly gone out and grabbed three pills before inviting me over tonight. Thinking we were all just going to hangout, I was shocked when I showed up to find the pills neatly lined up on the coffee table and the three brothers pacing around the room arguing. After plenty of deliberation, Matt finally convinced Nick and Chris, and now here they were; awkwardly looking between themselves and me.

“How long do these even take to kick in?” Asked Chris, toying with the can of Pepsi in his hand. Grabbing one of the packages from the coffee table, Matt examined it for a moment. “It says thirty minutes.” He replied, sighing and running a hand through his messy hair. “This is ridiculous.” Remarked Nick, shaking his head as though he was disappointed in everyone in the room. Still giggling, I stretched my legs along the couch. “Oh come on,” I whined, “Relax, get comfy, and let the games begin.”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Okay, this isn’t working.” Nick deadpanned, locking his phone and throwing it beside him. “Really?” Asked Chris, turning to face his brother. Dropping his jaw, Nick made a disgusted face. “Is it for you?” Chris smirked bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m feeling somethin’.” He replied, to which Matt and Nick both groaned. “What about you Matt?” I asked, eyeing his still-relaxed frame leaning against the couch. Jutting out his bottom lip, he shrugged. “No, nothin’.” Chris groaned beside him, and I couldn’t help but notice him adjust himself slightly. “Great, now I feel weird.” He said, grabbing a blanket and swiftly draping it across his lap. I laughed and slowly pulled myself up from the couch.

“Looks like you might end up being the loser.” I teased as I began tidying up the packages strewn around the room. “I will n-” Dropping to my knees, I collected torn up pieces of packaging that had gathered at Chris’s feet. Noticing that Chris’s words had been cut short and now the room had fallen into heavy silence, I glanced up at him through my eyelashes. His eyes — which from up close seemed glassy and dilated — were on me, his mouth open slightly from his disrupted speech, and even his breathing seemed slightly rapid as his chest rose and fell.

Noticing this, Nick threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Chris are you serious? See I knew this was a fucking horrible idea.” His sharp words pulled Chris’s eyes away from me, and he winced at his brother. “I’m sorry,” He replied, his words aimed at both Nick and myself, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me.” He added, seeming to grow increasingly uncomfortable. I giggled nervously before pulling myself back up to my feet. “It’s okay.” I reassured him before bringing the packages to the garbage; using the short walk to recover from that oddly intense moment.

As I returned, I suddenly noticed Matt fidgeting in his place on the couch, his brows knit in what seemed to be anguish. With Nick scrolling on his phone and Chris burying his head in his hands, I seemed to be the only one noticing Matt’s sudden discomfort. I chuckled as I slid back into my seat. “You good Matt?” I asked, teasing him. His eyes shot up to mine, and I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. “Uh…yeah. All—all good.” He replied, his voice thick and slightly raspy.

Glancing down at my phone, I check the timer. It had been 32 minutes since they took the pills. I smiled gently. “Right on time.” I replied, shooting him a knowing look which just made him grow even more visibly restless. My comment grabbed the attention of Nick and Chris, and they turned to look at their rosy-cheeked brother. “You too?” Nick shouted, jumping up off of the couch. Matt grimaced, shrugging his shoulders again. “It’s not like I can control it.” He replied, letting out an uncomfortable laugh. Sighing, Nick began walking towards the stairs. “Whoa! Where are you going?” Chris asked him. “Nothing is happening to me dumbass! And I will absolutely not be sitting around you two anymore now that you’re both bricked up.” He sassed as he began climbing the stairs. “Good luck Y/n!” He called as he disappeared into his bedroom.

“Looks like we’re in a 1 v 1.” I said, wiggling my eyebrows teasingly. I registered the look of torment on the faces of Matt and Chris, and decided that it would be in my best interest to hold back my laughter. “Let’s see who can make it to an hour.” I added. Chris grunted as he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I’ll be lucky if I make it another five minutes.” He replied, his voice also more gruff than usual. “Aww c’mon, you can do it.” I encouraged, moving to place a reassuring hand on his knee but deciding against it. As the room fell back into silence, I could hear Matt’s heavy breathing permeated by the occasional soft whine.

Although I was trying to keep things light-hearted, their overwhelming arousal was growing more and more palpable. My wandering eyes flittered from Matt’s bottom lip pulled in between his teeth to Chris’s temple coated in a sheen of sweat. As I focused on their features, it was as though their chemically-induced lust was contagious. I began to feel my own heart pounding in my chest, and I noticed a dampness in my panties that hadn’t been there before. In that silent room, all of our desires suddenly fell in sync with one another, and it was growing harder and harder to ignore.

“I need to go deal with this.” Chris suddenly blurted out, his voice laced with urgency as his focused eyes stared straight ahead. “You’re throwin’ in the towel?” Asked Matt, his lips curling into a smile infused with what seemed to be an odd combination of arrogance and relief. Chris winced as he tried to lean forward, nodding his head intensely. I watched in painful silence as he folded his hands together and pressed them against his plump lips, deep in thought. Very slowly, his eyes were pulled in my direction.

I froze under his gaze, the look he was giving me was worth a thousand words. My brows furrowed momentarily, instinctually denying what his eyes were asking me, before I felt my body begin to react. Heart pounding in my ears, I leaned back against the couch and crossed my legs; dying for some relief. “Hey—what’s going on?” Matt’s voice infiltrated mine and Chris’s stare-down. Picking up on the shift of air in the room, his eyebrows shot up. “Chris, no! That’s not how this works.” He exclaimed, turning to face his brother. Still looking at me, a smirk pulled at the corner of Chris’s lips. “We never laid down any ground rules kid.” He replied, and I felt my throat go dry.

“Well…” Matt’s exasperated voice trailed off for a moment, “Well, who said you get to fuck her?” The words sat heavy in the air around us, the reality of the situation being verbalized for the first time. I couldn’t manage to get a single word out if I tried, nor did I have the power to pull my eyes from Chris’s heady gaze. Chris chuckled, pulling himself off of the couch before slowly beginning to walk towards me. “No one,” He began, his voice suddenly menacing, “That’s up to her.” He finished just as he stopped in front of me, his frame towering above me with his tantalizing bulge directly in my line of sight.

Very slowly, he leaned down so that we were once again face-to-face. I felt my cheeks burn red from the situation I had suddenly found myself in, and the desire was radiating off of me in pulses. “What do you say?” He asked, his dilated eyes flooded with amusement. I swallowed, trying my best to re-instate my own vocal chords. Just as I was about to squeak out a response, a mindless gasp fell from my lips as Chris ducked his head down; his face buried in my neck.

My eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but once they opened they immediately landed on Matt’s tense figure sitting on the couch. His eyes were wide open, showing me just how badly he was suffering in that moment. The sheer need radiating from his gaze on me was infiltrating my mind, but the feeling of Chris’s warm breath dancing against my neck made it difficult for anything else to matter.

A whisper-soft moan slipped from my lips as Chris’s tongue delicately swiped against my clammy skin, and on instinct my hands flew to the back of his hair. Noticing my pitiful reaction, Chris chuckled against my skin. “I think I have my answer.” He whispered before pulling away from my neck and instead resuming our mind-numbingly erotic staring contest.“Matt get out.” Chris ordered, not even bothering to pull his hungry eyes away from me. As soon as Matt groaned, huffing out a disappointed “Fuck” as he headed for his room, Chris’s ravenous mouth was on mine.

I sucked in a sharp breath from the sheer dominance of his mouth. Lips tumbling in urgency, I felt his tongue toy with my lips; begging for entrance. Obliging, I moaned softly as his warm tongue flicked into my mouth, running against my own in slow, intoxicating movements. “Chris.” I panted, my voice thick with lust as his rapacious mouth began travelling down my neck. His hands snaked up my body, taking their time along my bare legs and stomach before tugging against the hem of my bunched up tank.

“Off.” He growled authoritatively. Without hesitating, I threw the thin white material over my head and let it drop to the floor. As soon as my pebbled tits were exposed, Chris’s greedy hands cupped onto them; exploring their shape as his thumbs ran along my sensitive nipples. Goosebumps raised on my skin at the feeling of his covetous, almost controlling touch. His hands and mouth moved as though he had no control over them — as though they owned the body that they were exploring.

His mouth dropped down to my chest. Taking one of my nipples in his mouth, a deep moan vibrated against my blazing skin. I laced my fingers through his hair, tugging gently against his roots as pleasure surged through my body. “Fuck, I’m so hard Y/n.” He said roughly as he nibbled at my skin. Mouth watering from the need he was exhibiting so transparently, my legs widened subconsciously as I writhed for more contact. “Let me h-help then.” I replied, my voice airy from how breathless he was making me.

Chris immediately straightened up, standing in front of me. Holding the bottom of his t-shirt up between his teeth, he began fumbling wildly with his belt. As soon as the metal unbuckled, my hands flew to his jeans, my own desperation causing me to yank down his zipper and slip his baggy pants and boxers down just enough to allow his swollen cock to spring free. As soon as the cold air brushed against his leaking tip, Chris released a gasp of relief. “Fuck, need your mouth.” He muttered, his droopy eyes peering down at me as I took in the immeasurable size of his length.

As I sat frozen in shock, the silky skin of his tip brushed against my pouting lips, snapping me out of my hypnosis. I opened my mouth, granting him the ability to place his cock on my tongue. I looked up at him through my lashes, taking in his panicky and disheveled appearance as his desperate cock pulsed against my drooling tongue. Slowly, I wrapped my lips around his girth, sucking in my cheeks lightly; earning a sharp groan and an indignant thrust of his hips. My eyes stayed glued to his as I began swirling my tongue along his swollen ridge, his salty pre-cum dissolving against my satisfied taste buds.

His jaw went slack as he watched me, deep in a trance. His hands found the back of my head, where he laced his strong fingers through my wavy hair; seeming to put up a fight against an all-consuming urge to sink all eight inches down my welcoming throat. Just as his eyes darkened, seconds from losing all self-control, I gave him some of the relief he was dying for by slowly bobbing my head up and down his veiny shaft. A long hiss escaped his mouth, his eyes burned into the sight before him — into me — as I took more and more of him in my mouth on each movement.

“Fuck.” He groaned, his words clipped, as his hands tightened in my hair. Slowly, I noticed him use his grip on my head to help guide my movements; sliding my mouth along his cock in a steady rhythm. As I looked up at him, I noticed the tension rolling throughout his entire body — his abdomen flexed, arms veiny, face reddening — caused by the self-restrain he was so obviously practicing combined with the crushing arousal that he was experiencing. To help him, I relaxed my throat and gave up moving my head on my own. He noticed my sudden lack of movement, but after scanning my face in concern for a moment, quickly accepted my wordless offering by slowly rolling his hips.

He moved gently at first, his eyes trained on mine as though he was gauging where my limitations stood. With each thrust, he slid his cock just a little further down my throat, until finally my nose was pressed taut against the sprinkle of hair along his pelvis. He held me there for a moment, looking down in awe at the sight of every inch of him buried in my warm, wet mouth. As I began tightening my throat around his shaft, growing restless, his breath seemed to grow more and more ragged — until all at once his self-control seemed to vanish.

I gasped around his cock as he suddenly grabbed my head with both hands, keeping me completely still as he began pounding his cock down my throat. Tears began forming in my eyes from the sheer force of his movements. “G-good girl.” He breathed, his eyes focused on my pink lips as they stretched to accommodate his laboured thrusts. I tried to moan — the lust emitting from Chris as he face fucked me caused my panties to flood — but my vocal chords were stifled by his ravaging cock. Instead, I turned into a zombie: my glossy eyes rolled to the back of my head as strings of saliva poured from the corners of my stretched out mouth.

Chris’s breathing grew so ragged that it was intimidating. Each rough thrust drew a guttural moan from his lips, making my head spin with desire. Suddenly, my eyes flew open in shock as Chris used his strong grip on my hair to pull me back; my head now pressed firmly against the back of the couch as he drove his cock down my throat. Unable to breathe, I entered a foreign state of ecstasy as Chris planted one of his legs onto the couch to get even deeper access; pushing me to my limits.

Just as I was about to grab onto his leg and, with pleading eyes, let him know I needed a break, the most erotic moan I had ever heard fell from his swollen lips. “G-gonna cum baby.” He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he seemed to focus on the overwhelming build up inside of him. Flooded with arousal, I suddenly regained the ability to take his strained, erratic thrusts. “You look so fuckin’ good with my cock in your mouth.” He groaned, his words punctuated by his sharp thrusts. I released an unsteady whimper in response, staring up at his haggard face.

“Shiiit.” Chris’ voice was drawn out as he made one final thrust, letting his cock hit the back of my throat one last time before I felt his warm seed erupt; filling my drooling mouth with thick ropes of the salty fluid as his cock twitched against my tongue. I kept my eyes on his as I eagerly swallowed his cum, and watched as his glazed-over expression of bliss switched to one much more alert and hungry.

Very slowly, he pulled his still-hard cock out of my mouth with a pop. I stayed perfectly still, staring up at him with an inquisitorial look in my eyes, and flinched when I felt his thumb run along my bottom lip to collect his spilt seed before pushing it back in between my lips. After eagerly lapping up the residue, my lips were once again engulfed by Chris’s. He moaned at the taste of himself on my tongue, and his hands wasted no time before tugging down my shorts.

He detached his lips from mine, leaving me a panting mess, as his gaze was pulled to my trembling heat. Just barely concealed by my soaking wet thong, I felt my slippery walls flex around nothing from his attention alone. Chris hooked his fingers into the waistband of my thong, pulling it down my legs torturously slow as I watched his chest rise and fall. Once I was fully exposed, the cold air against my swollen clit caused me to widen my legs; begging for his warm touch.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” Chris breathed, his voice an almost-whisper, as he ran his hands along my upper thighs. Once they reached my outer-most folds, he used his thumbs to spread me apart; admiring the way my juices dripped down to his knuckles. I trembled, feeling erotically pinned down by both his powerful hands and strong gaze, dying for him to touch me. I noticed the way he was holding me so tightly, the way his lower lip was pulled between his teeth, before his eyes shot back up to mine. “Turn around.” He ordered gruffly.

Knowing that I didn’t have the willpower to refuse even if I had wanted to, I turned around. Spreading my legs wider and bending my knees, I leaned my exposed chest against the back of the couch for support as I became more and more aware of the heat radiating off of his famished body behind me. I felt the weight on the couch shift just before I felt his hand snake up my spine to once again lace through my messy hair; the warm, wet feeling of his tongue sending aftershocks along my over-reactive skin.

His chest, now completely bare, pressed against my back as his face nuzzled against my shoulder; nibbling gently with his front teeth. Arching my back, I gasped as his free hand came around to my front; finding my clit blindly before rubbing quick circles against it. A stunned moan of relief slipped from my lips, muffled by the soft fabric of the couch, as I felt my body begin to melt under his nimble fingers. “Fuck Chris, r-right there.” I breathed, engulfed in the pleasure of his steady movements.

“You’re so fuckin’ soaked baby,” He purred against my red-hot ear, “You sure you didn’t take a pill too?” His deep voice, laced with amusement, reverberated through my scattered brain. Attempting to laugh in response, I was cut short by the unmistakable feeling of his warm tip, still glossy from my mouth, pressing against my drooling slit. “Mmm.” I groaned, writhing slowly in an attempt to pull him into me.

Noticing this, Chris chuckled menacingly against my skin. “You want my cock pretty girl?” His words shot straight to my core, and aimlessly I tried to grab his poised length in my greedy hand. Tauntingly, he pulled his hips back so his cock was out of reach. “Wanna hear you say it.” He asserted, his fingers slowing against my bundle of nerves. Whining, I turned my head so that I could see his face to my right. Lids droopy, I spoke with urgency. “Please, Chris,” I felt a string of arousal slip down my thigh, “Please g-give me your c-cock.”

With a satisfied smirk across his face, Chris kept his eyes on mine as his hand abandoned my clit. Brows furrowed from the lack of contact, I was just about to let out a dissatisfied groan when I felt the heat of his cock press against my trembling core. I watched his eyes flutter from the feeling of my folds just beginning to wrap around him, and in one swift motion, he split me in half.

Gasping, I had no time to adjust to Chris’s sinful girth before he started pounding into me. My walls stretched more than they ever had before, but welcomed his cock graciously by spilling pools of arousal along its length. “Jesus Christ.” Chris moaned in my ear, overwhelming lust clear in his voice, though it didn’t seem to reign over his powerful movements. The sloppy, wet sounds of our bodies slapping together echoed throughout the living room, their provocative recoils muddling my thoughts.

Chris straightened himself up behind me, keeping his one hand knit through my hair but placing his other on my ass cheek; pressing down so that my back was arched as much as it could be. “You’re making a b-big fuckin’ mess on me baby.” He uttered, using his grip on my ass to spread me apart; admiring the sight of his cock disappearing inside of my oozing pussy. “F-feels so good.” I moaned in response, mouth going slack as I relished in the feeling of his cock squeeze through my spongey walls.

His pace began to quicken, my cunt trembling from the new rapid pace. I could barely lift my head from the back of the couch; his cock dominated every part of me. Deep, throaty groans slipped from his mouth every few seconds, his grip on my hair tightened as he struggled to keep up his pace. “Touch yourself.” He suddenly ordered, his voice rushed and gruff. With a moan, I brought my fingers to my clit where I began to draw tight circles in sync with Chris’s rhythm.

As my bundle of nerves danced between my trembling fingers, my pleasure was profoundly intensified. “Oh god!” I cried out, my voice sounding brutish to my own ears. “K-keep going C-Chris!” I felt myself begin to crumble, my climax violently approaching. As if reading my mind, he grunts from behind me. “You gonna cum?” Unable to respond with words, I nodded my head rapidly as I chewed on my bottom lip. A sharp slap against my ass caused me to gasp, my pussy starting to convulse around his rock hard length. “That’s a good girl, cum for me baby.”

His soft words worked paradoxically with his rough thrusts and stinging slap, and I was immediately hit by an orgasm so brutal, so all-consuming, that I felt my soul drift from my body. For a moment, my body stilled, void of any sign of life, as my orgasm constricted all of my senses. I felt nothing; heard nothing; saw nothing; until a wave of pleasure, the colour of blood, came screaming at me — attacking my nerves and bringing me back to life.

My legs shook, nails dug into the couch, back contorted to the point where it looked broken, as the scream of a possessed woman spilled from my mouth. Chris tightened his grip on my hair, pulling my head off of the couch and wrapping his free hand around my mouth to stifle my uncontrollable moans. As I cried out his name into his possessing hand, his movements slowed tremendously; my spasming cunt suffocating his cock. “J-Jesus.” Chris panted from behind me, struggling to keep his composure as he slowly sunk himself into me; doing his best to drive me through my high before he lost all control.

I began to gain composure over my body as my orgasm subsided — I could feel my weak limbs and filter the words that spilled from my lips. Soft moans still escaped, however, as Chris continued to fuck me slowly; hissing between his teeth as he inched closer and closer to his own high. I felt my depleted walls continue to stretch for him, and fell into a slight hypnosis from the steady movements of our conjoined bodies.

“Turn around.” Chris’s urgent voice startled me back to my senses. He suddenly pulled his cock out of me in one quick movement, and as he did, I turned around to face him. Leaning with my back against the couch, I watched as he angled himself closer to me, pumping his red, swollen cock in his hand. After a few rapid jerks, Chris let out a deep guttural moan, shuddering before spilling his warm, milky, cum along my tits. My hungry eyes flittered between his face — eyes screwed shut in bliss, puffy lips pulled apart slightly, jaw tense — and the filthy portrait he was painting across my clammy skin.

Once a pool of his seed had collected in between my full tits, Chris released one more soft grunt before opening his eyes. They focused on his signature for a moment, before drifting up to my face; a satisfied smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he took in my spent appearance. Taking a shaky breath, he leaned down to plant a soft kiss to my lips before using his discarded shirt to wipe up the mess he had made on my chest.

“Well, that turned out to be a pretty fun game.” He whispered, his words laced with humour. My eyes followed his gentle movements across my skin; watching as he took his time and made sure he left my skin seemingly untouched. Chuckling, all of my energy drained, I looked back up at his crimson-tinted face. “Let’s thank Matt.” I replied, laughing at the repulsed expression that took over his features. “You’re sick, kid.” He retorted, shaking his head, but I noticed the shameless smile creeping over his lips.

“I was kiddingggg,” I laughed, reaching for my discarded clothes, “Do you feel better though?” I asked, to which Chris dropped his gaze to his cock — still red and standing up flush against his stomach — looking back to me with a raised eyebrow as though he was saying, ‘What’s it look like?’. Chuckling, I grab my top and begin trying to put it on. “Sorry dude, I did the best I could.” Just as my vision was restricted by the material of my top over my eyes, I squealed as I felt Chris lift me up; bending me over his shoulder as he stood up.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, my voice broken by laughter as I jokingly pounded on his shoulder. He was walking, now, and I couldn’t control my childish giggles as I tried to get my tank top off of my head. “We’re gonna go take a shower.” He replied just as I felt him begin to descend the stairs leading to his bedroom. “Maybe one more time will do the trick.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[favefandomimagines]

Baby On Board (f.l)

Summary: Y/N is seven months pregnant and Frank is a nightmare

AN: I’m on a role with these Frank fics lol a request similar to this came through anonymously where there were multiple kiddos but I was thinking of maybe making each pregnancy its own story??? What do we think?

The ER didn’t stop—not for holidays, not for sleep, and definitely not for pregnancies.

Dr. Y/N Y/L/N knew that better than anyone.

At seven months pregnant, she still had her badge clipped to her scrub top, and stethoscope around her neck like she was still on month one.

The only real sign of slowing down came in the form of a tiny foot kicking her ribs every few hours, and the way her husband, Dr. Frank Langdon, treated her like she was wrapped in glass.

“Okay, tell me you’ve eaten something,” Frank said, appearing beside her at the nurse’s station. He had a sixth sense when it came to her whereabouts. He’d sniff her out like a bloodhound when he thought she’d gone too long without food or a break.

She gave him a tired smile, holding up half a granola bar like it was a gourmet meal. “I’m pacing myself.”

Frank squinted at it like it offended him. “That’s bird food. You need protein.”

“Frank, I’m fine.”

“You’re growing an entire person. ‘Fine’ is not good enough.” He reached into the pocket of his jacket and handed her a container of sliced apples and peanut butter. “From the cafeteria. It’s not garbage, I checked.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you married me anyway,” he grinned.

Y/N took a bite despite herself. “Only because you told me I had the best laparoscopic technique you’d ever seen.”

Frank leaned closer, voice dipping. “It was a sexy suture job. Changed my life.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. Frank Langdon was a walking contradiction—brilliant and serious when it came to medicine, but a complete puddle around her.

Ever since they’d found out about the baby, he’d been obsessed. With ultrasounds. With vitamins. With keeping her off anything remotely resembling a stressful case.

“You promised you’d only take consults today,” he reminded her, brushing a hand over the swell of her stomach. “No trauma. No GSWs. No knifed bar brawlers. Baby Langdon doesn’t need to hear screams yet.”

“Frank,” she said with a warning look.

“Y/N,” he said back, smiling but not backing down. “Let me be annoying. It’s my love language.”

By midafternoon, the ER was humming like it always did—a steady, chaotic rhythm of stretchers rolling, pages beeping, and voices shouting. Y/N had been reviewing a consult for a gallbladder patient when the overhead pager crackled to life.

“GSW incoming, ETA four minutes.”

The attending was in surgery. Frank was in another trauma bay. The only other senior resident was handling an incoming stroke in CT.

Which meant Y/N was the only one left.

She stood up instinctively, even as a nurse gave her a hesitant look. “Dr. Y/L/N, should I page someone else?”

“There’s no one else,” she said, already reaching for a gown and gloves. “Page the OR. Let them know we might need a room fast.”

“Are you sure—?”

“I’ve got it.”

The trauma bay exploded into motion the second the paramedics wheeled him in.

“Thirty-five-year-old male, GSW to the left abdomen, hypotensive in the field, unresponsive to fluids. GCS 9.”

Y/N was already in position. “Let’s go. Two large-bore IVs, type and cross, hang O-neg now. Get the FAST scan ready.”

The team scrambled. She barked orders while the tech applied the ultrasound probe to the man’s abdomen. Blood everywhere. Vitals crashing.

“He’s bleeding out,” someone said.

“Get me a thoracotomy tray,” Y/N called, pushing harder on the man’s belly. “We’re opening him up here if we have to.”

Her belly pressed into the stretcher as she leaned closer, hands slick with blood, the baby inside her shifting as if aware of the chaos around them.

“Pressure’s bottoming out—”

“He’s tamponading,” Y/N said. “OR now. We need to move.”

They barely stabilized him with a rapid transfusion before wheeling him up. Her gown was soaked in blood. She stripped it off as they rolled the patient away, rubbing at a red streak on her gown as she stepped out of Trauma 3.

And ran straight into Frank.

“Y/N!”

His voice was like a whip crack. She looked up just in time to see him sprinting down the hallway, his eyes wide with panic.

“What the hell happened? Why are you covered in blood? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, holding up her hands, even as he reached out and started patting her down like he was checking for wounds. “Frank, I’m fine. It’s not mine.”

“You weren’t supposed to take any trauma calls!”

“There was no one else, Frank.”

He stared at her, face pale, then looked down at the stain on her trauma gown, the crimson gloves in her hand, and the sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“You’re seven months pregnant. You can’t be in there opening chests—”

“I didn’t open his chest. I stabilized him. Got him to the OR. The patient’s alive, Frank.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. For a second, he just looked at her—at the way she was standing tall, composed, despite the blood and exhaustion.

“You scared the hell out of me.”

She softened as she took the gown and gloves off. “I know.”

“I thought—” he stopped, swallowing hard. “I thought something happened. That someone didn’t notice you were pregnant and shoved you into a wall or—”

She stepped forward and touched his arm. “I’m still capable. Pregnancy didn’t erase my training.”

Frank pulled her into his arms anyway, holding her like he needed to convince himself she was real.

“You’re not a porcelain doll,” he mumbled into her hair. “I know that. But I—God, I just want you both safe.”

“I am safe,” she murmured. “Because I’m trained. Because I trust my judgment. And because I have a husband who follows me around with apples and prenatal vitamins.”

He let out a weak laugh, still holding her.

Later that night, after the trauma bay was clean and the adrenaline had drained from both of them, Frank found her in the break room. She was sitting on the couch, one hand on her stomach, eyes closed.

“You’re not gonna get away with that again, you know,” he said gently.

Y/N opened one eye. “With what?”

“Being the only senior resident and taking a GSW while seven months pregnant. I’m putting it in your permanent record.”

She smiled, too tired to argue. “How’s the patient?”

“Out of surgery. Stable. You saved his life.”

She nodded, a satisfied smile on her face, rubbing at her lower back.

“Come on,” Frank said, kneeling in front of her. “Turn.”

She did, and he began to rub slow, practiced circles into her back. “I’ve been reading up on prenatal massage,” he said casually. “This spot here? Supposed to relieve pressure.”

“You’re a nerd.”

“A nerd who loves you,” he murmured. “And this baby.”

The room was quiet except for the hum of the vending machine. Then she said softly, “I know I scared you. But I need you to believe that I know what I’m doing.”

“I do,” he said. “I really do. But believing in you and worrying about you don’t cancel each other out.”

She leaned back into his hands. “Deal.”

Frank reached up and kissed her cheek, lips lingering slightly.

Two weeks later, she officially went on leave. But every now and then, Frank would find her standing in the ER doorway, arms crossed over her stomach, watching.

And he’d walk over, press a kiss to her temple, and whisper, “Still capable.”

And she’d whisper back, “Still protective.”

And both were absolutely true.

[pitlanepeach]

FROM EDEN | Chapter Two (2/8)

Oscar Piastri x Francesca Gold (OFC)

Summary — Francesca Gold is an introvert with a quiet life and a Youtube channel where she talks about books, drinks too much tea, and rarely ever shows her face. She prefers it that way - tucked into her London flat with her cat, Henry, and safely hidden behind a screen.

Oscar Piastri is a Formula 1 driver. Fast-paced, high-stakes, always on the move. He hasn't read a book in years, but he's watched every single one of Francesca's videos. Just for the sound of her voice.

Following her on Instagram was a moment of weakness. He didn't think she'd notice.

She did.

Chapter Warnings — Mentions of agoraphobia + severe social anxiety, depressive episodes + very brief references to skin-picking. Mental health shaming.

Notes — Lots of dialogue + messages in this one. Next chapter will be posted on (or before) Thursday!

The family group chat was already at thirteen unread messages by the time Francesca mustered the courage to look at it.

Mum: June flights are cheaper if you book now xx

Izzy: I’ll be home that week too! Dad said he’s going to do a BBQ. I’m bringing Zack. 

Mum: It’s been ages, Fran. Everyone wants to see you.

Francesca read the messages slowly, one by one, her gut curling with that all too familiar guilt.

She should want to go home for the summer. She hadn’t seen any of them since Christmas. She missed them, in her own way. But the thought of travelling, especially alone — of trains, of planes, of conversations she couldn’t quietly log off from — made her want to disappear. 

She opened the notes app on her phone and rehearsed her response:

Hey, I don’t think I’ll be able to come this summer. It’s a really bad time for me, mentally.

She stared at it. Deleted it. 

Retyped:

Hey, I’ll have to see. Work is really full on right now.

That one she copied and pasted into the chat. Sent it. 

Immediately, three little bubbles popped up. Her pulse spiked.

Mum: It’s only one weekend. I’m sure your little channel survive. 

Izzy: Oh come on, Francesca. It’s one weekend. Dad misses you. 

Francesca locked her phone and turned it screen-side down on her bed. 

Henry stirred where he was curled up against her side, sensing the shift in energy.

She pressed her hand into his soft fur and whispered, “You’d hate it. Too many people. Not enough snacks. Mum will get hay fever and and blame her runny nose on you.”

He blinked up at her. Loyal. Unbothered. Her co-conspirator.

She picked up her phone again. She could feel the heat rising in her chest — a familiar, creeping anger she usually buried so deep that it didn’t even get a name.

Not today.

Her thumbs moved before her brain could stop them.

Has it ever occurred to you that you could come here instead?

She blinked at the snappiness of her outburst, her breath catching in her throat.

Then:

You’re always asking me to come home and expecting me to be okay with the travel. But none of you have been to London since I moved here. It’s just always assumed that I’ll suddenly be fine travelling by myself. Which I’m not. 

Her heart pounded. She hovered over the message, the way she always did.

And then she hit send.

Almost immediately, panic flooded in behind the adrenaline.

Too much. Too harsh. She could almost hear the stunned silence that would follow.

The chat stayed still for a minute. Then two. Then—

Mum: We’re just trying to help you, sweetheart. You need to learn how to push yourself out of your comfort zone. You’re an adult now. 

Izzy: Lol. Yikes. 

Francesca sighed and closed her eyes, pressing her head back against her headboard.

She didn’t regret letting herself say it. Not really.

Even though it hadn’t seemed to make a difference. 

She didn’t need to push herself. She had boundaries and that was okay.

Henry nosed her hand with his head, and she scratched behind his ears absently.

“I know,” she murmured. “That could’ve gone better. But still.”

She thumbed through her apps again, not to the chat this time, but Instagram. She found herself staring — almost absently — at Oscar’s profile, her thumb hovering over the follow button.

It wasn’t the same, she told herself. But somehow, it still felt like the same kind of bravery.

She pressed her thumb down and watched the icon shift from Follow to Following.

There. Done.

Her heart beat a little too fast, but she didn’t unlock her phone again. Not yet.

She glanced at the time and let out a quiet, slightly disbelieving laugh.

It wasn’t even eleven a.m. and she’d done two scary things.

She was unstoppable.

— 

iMessage — Katie & Francesca

Katie: 

You followed him back.

Francesca: 

should i have asked for permission first?

Katie:

You’re sassy today

Francesca: 

i had to interact with my sister  

Katie:

Ew.

—

Like she did every Friday night, Francesca ordered a takeaway — Thai, because she was predictable — and curled up with Henry while she worked through her notifications.

She responded to YouTube comments first. Then Instagram. Then TikTok.

“Loved this rec!”

“Adding this to my TBR.”

“You have the coziest voice, please do ASMR.”

She typed thank yous, sent emojis, liked everything in sight.

By the time she opened her DMs, she was comfortably full and lulled into a rhythm — heart-reacting sweet messages, replying to the odd question about where she got her bookshelf lights.

She didn’t expect to see it.

Didn’t expect him.

An unopened message. From a verified account. Sitting halfway down the screen like it had been waiting for her.

Instagram DM's — Oscar Piastri > Francesca Gold

Oscar Piastri Thank you. Are you a McLaren fan?

And then a few hours later, he’d followed up with: 

I just wanted to say I really liked your last video. It made my flight way less boring.

She froze. Actually froze.

Her eyes scanned the messages again, and again, as if they would change.

And then, with dawning horror, she realised what had happened. 

She’d sent it. In the process of clumsily exiting out of the app, she’d sent the message congratulating him on his podium.

And he’d seen it. 

And responded to it. 

His response hadn’t been there yesterday. Had it?

She wasn’t sure. Her inbox was always a bit of a mess, but still—

She let her phone drop to her lap, stared at the ceiling, and let out a sound that was somewhere between a squeak and a yell.

Henry looked up from his loaf position and stared at her. 

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “I’m totally fine.”

She wasn’t.

She was an idiot. A fat-thumbed idiot. 

She didn’t reply straight away.

Instead, she opened the message thread again. Then again. Then three more times, pacing between her couch and the kitchen like some kind of Victorian ghost haunting her flat.

Henry trailed after her for the first few laps before giving up and flopping down with a lazy sigh.

One sentence. Barely even a thing. But it was him, telling her that he’d enjoyed her last video, after asking her if she supported the team he drove for, and that changed everything.

She drafted five different replies, none of them good.

Too casual. Too try-hard. Too weird.

She threw her phone across the room, onto the couch, and stared at the wall for a full minute before groaning into her hands.

Eventually, after she’d stress-eaten three mini chocolate muffins that she didn’t even like, she picked up her phone and typed, quickly this time, before she could overthink it:

Francesca Gold Thanks. I’m glad I made it easier for you. 

And I don’t know much about McLaren. Just cheering for you, I guess. 

She stared at it.

It was true. It was honest. It didn’t sound like she wanted to marry him, probably.

She pressed send.

Immediately put her phone face down.

Then picked it back up, just to check.

Then turned it off entirely.

Henry meowed like he disapproved of her cowardice.

She glared at him. “Shut up, Garfield.” 

He glowered at her. 

—

Katie had arranged for an Uber to pick her up right outside of her flat and bring her straight to the office. No walking, no public transport, no unnecessary variables. Just door-to-door.

It was the kindest version of a nightmare.

Francesca perched on the edge of the back seat, hands curled in her lap, her breath shallow despite the driver's quiet humming and the soft instrumental music playing through the speakers. She had her AirPods in but wasn’t listening to anything — she just needed a barrier between her and the world.

Every red light made her stomach twist tighter. Every bump in the road sent a flicker of nausea through her chest. It felt ridiculous — it was ridiculous — but having self-awareness didn’t make it any easier.

She glanced at her phone without thinking.

And then blinked at the notification she was met with.

Instagram DM's — Oscar Piastri > Francesca Gold

Oscar Piastri I feel special. And kind of like I need to point at Lando and laugh at him

A small, startled laugh escaped her. It sounded foreign in the confined space.

Another message popped up, and her eyes went wide as she realised what was happening; they were both in the chat at the same time.

Oscar Piastri But now I have to ask — favourite driver who isn’t me?

A tiny smile pulled at the corners of her lips before she could stop it. Her fingers moved quickly over the screen. 

Francesca Gold I’n very new to the sport, but I have a few favourites, I guess. 

Oscar Piastri How new? 

She bit her lip. 

Francesca Gold

Watched my first qualifying the day after u followed me. 

Lol

Oscar Piastri 

No way

Really? 

That’s really cool, actually. 

Did you enjoy it then?

The tightness in her chest eased. Not completely. But enough.

The hum of the road didn’t feel so sharp. Her jaw unclenched.

She leaned her head against the window, let the cool glass ground her, and typed back:

Francesca Gold Sure. 

My cat wasn’t so keen. 

The three little dots appeared instantly.

And suddenly, the office didn’t feel quite so far away.

Oscar Piastri

The ginger one?

Francesca Gold

Haha. Yes. His name is Henry. 

Oscar Piastri I like cats :) Sry, gtg. Being glared at for being on my phone in a meeting.

Francesca stared at the message, her fingers tightening around her phone like it might float away if she let go.

He was messaging her when he was supposed to be working? Like, at work-working. With people. In a meeting. While probably wearing a team shirt and doing serious, important racing driver things.

Her heart did this awkward little somersault in her chest.

Francesca Gold 

Have fun. 

—

The Uber rolled to a stop outside the sleek glass building, and Francesca's heart started thudding again, loud and clumsy in her chest.

But before she could spiral, the door swung open and Katie’s familiar voice filled the car.

“There she is,” she said brightly, reaching in with one arm to haul Francesca up like she was a tiny dog and not a grown adult. “I was starting to think you’d made the driver turn around.” She leaned between the front seats and said, “Cheers, mate. Have a good day.” To the driver. 

“I considered it,” Francesca muttered, tucking her phone into her coat pocket and willing the blush on her cheeks to cool.

Katie narrowed her eyes the moment they stepped onto the pavement. “Why are you blushing?”

“I’m not—blushing,” Francesca lied, immediately and unconvincingly.

Katie stopped walking. “You are!”

Francesca shot her a warning look but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her mouth. “You’re being so dramatic.”

Katie just grinned, triumphant. “I’m right. You were blushing.”

Francesca shook her head, her fingers twitching inside her coat sleeves. Then, quieter, she said, “Thank you. For organising the car. And… for understanding. About all of this.”

Katie blinked at her like she’d just announced that she was moving to the moon.

“Babe,” she said simply, “you don’t thank people for turning on a light in the dark. It’s just what you do.”

Francesca swallowed hard. 

And then Katie, who never could leave a moment un-teased, added, “Now will you please tell me what made you blush?”

She exhaled slowly, pressing her knuckles to her lips.

Then, deadpan, to Katie: “He said he likes cats.”

Katie blinked. “He? Who’s he?”

Francesca just smiled down at the pavement.

Katie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to be unbearable, aren’t you?”

“I’m already unbearable.”

“Well. At least you’re self-aware.”

—

It was late, and the empty pizza box sat open on Francesca’s coffee table was like a monument to their gluttony. Henry had given up trying to sneak crusts and was now dozing on the back of the couch like a furry gargoyle, his tail flicking every so often.

Katie wiped her hands on a napkin and leaned back with a contented sigh. “Okay, we should eat like this every week. I don’t care if it gives me cheese-induced nightmares.”

Francesca laughed softly, tucking her legs beneath her and cradling her thin-stemmed wine glass close. “Hard agree.”

Katie nodded, then tilted her head, studying her. “How are you doing? With everything, I mean.”

Francesca took a breath. Then another. She watched the wine swirl in her glass, the way the lamplight caught it and made it look warmer than it was. 

“I’m… okay,” she said eventually. “Some days are harder than others. Today wasn’t the worst.”

Katie didn’t press. Just waited.

“I still haven’t been out on my own for months,” Francesca added, quieter now. “And I get panicky just thinking about having to travel home. I hate how heavy it all feels, sometimes.”

Katie reached for the bottle and topped up both their glasses, like that was the kind of answer that required more wine. It probably was. 

“It’s okay to feel heavy,” she said. “You’re the one living with it. You can feel however you want.”

Francesca’s eyes stung.

“I know,” she whispered. “It’s just exhausting. Like, I feel like I’m never doing enough.”

“Don’t say that,” Katie said firmly. “You’re successful. You’re kind. And you’re working really damn hard to get better. I know you are. Not just the therapy, but the medication, and the whole posting more of your face thing? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” She said. “I think you’re really bloody brave.” 

Francesca smiled, brittle and small. “Tell that to my family.”

Katie rolled her eyes and raised her wine glass with a thin, vexed smile. “I hate your family. Let’s toast. To boundaries.”

Francesca clinked her glass with Katie’s. “To wine.”

They drank in silence for a beat, and then Katie smirked. “And to Oscar Piastri’s stupidly pretty face.”

Francesca choked on her sip, her face heating immediately. “God. I can’t even look at a picture of him properly without blushing.”

“So don’t look. Just keep messaging him and pretend he’s a normal boy with a normal job and a slightly ridiculous gluten allergy or something.”

Francesca frowned. “You think he has a gluten allergy?” 

She hadn’t seen any mention of one on his wikipedia page. 

Katie shrugged. “It feels like something rich men have.”

Francesca giggled, shaking her head at her best friends ridiculousness. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you keep checking your phone every five minutes.”

Francesca scrunched up her nose in embarrassment and let her head fall back against the couch. “I’m pathetic.”

Katie grinned. “No, you’re not. But if you’re going to keep dm’ing Australia’s golden boy, I feel like I deserve to live vicariously.”

“He’s not—” She stopped herself, huffing out a breath. “He’s just… nice. And funny. And—”

“And gorgeous,” Katie supplied with a smirk.

Francesca covered her face with her hands. “He’s so gorgeous. It’s actually rude.”

Katie let out a delighted cackle.

“But,” Francesca added, quieter this time, “he’s from another planet. Like, look at my flat, and look at me. And then think about his world. I can’t even make myself go to the shop most days, and he’s flying around the world, at the top of his sport, walking red carpets, getting papped at airports…” 

Katie sobered a little, her eyes kind. “Yeah, but he followed you. And he’s still here.”

“I know,” Francesca whispered, resting her glass on the edge of the table. “But what could actually come of this? Realistically? His fans already hate me. Twitter made that very clear.” 

There was silence for a beat.

Then Katie shrugged. “Okay, then maybe it’ll mean nothing. Or maybe… you just keep talking and see what happens. You don’t have to map out the next ten years right now.”

Francesca gave a small, tired smile. “I wish I could think like that.”

“You will,” Katie said confidently, nudging her shoulder. “Maybe not today. But eventually. And until then, I’ll be here to eat carbs and overanalyse his emojis with you.”

Francesca chuckled, leaning into the familiar comfort of her best friend. 

—

After Katie left, Francesca moved around her flat in a soft, post-wine haze — putting away clean glasses, tucking the pizza box into the bin, flicking off the overhead lights in favour of the warm lamplight she always preferred. Henry had already curled up in his usual spot at the foot of her bed, purring faintly. The perfect white noise.

She changed into an oversized T-shirt, made herself a cup of peppermint tea she’d probably forget to drink, and slid under her duvet with her phone in hand — mostly to scroll aimlessly until she eventually fell asleep. 

Instead, she found a new message waiting.

Instagram DM's — Oscar Piastri > Francesca Gold

Oscar Piastri Hi again :) sry for earlier Do you have any book recs for a birthday gift? It’s for my sister. I forgot to plan ahead. And you seem like the right person to ask.

Francesca stared at the message, then at the time: 11:42 PM. Her heart did that familiar, silly twist, and she pulled the duvet a little higher around her.

Francesca Gold hi. it’s fine any idea what she likes?

The reply came almost immediately.

Oscar Piastri Umm. She reads a lot Sometimes romance. Sometimes thrillers. She’s smarter than me. Is that a genre?

Francesca let out a fond laugh, covering her mouth so she wouldn’t startle Henry. She could picture him typing, awkward but earnest, and it was too endearing for her peace of mind.

Francesca Gold not a genre but i can work with that

She paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. There was something oddly intimate about choosing a book for someone else. Like passing along a tiny piece of yourself.

She thought for a moment, then started typing again.

Francesca Gold okay — can i send you a link to a list?

Oscar Piastri Yes. 100%

Francesca Gold *goodreads list named ‘Oscar’s Sister’*

Oscar Piastri Found them all on amazon. Thank you! Should i tell her that her birthday books were chosen by her favourite booktuber? Haha

She stared at the first message.

There was no reason for her to be surprised. He was a professional athlete — of course he had money — but the list she’d thrown together in less than five minutes had at least twenty books on it. Twenty.

And he’d gone and bought them all.

She shook her head, incredulous.

Francesca Gold if you want what if she doesn’t like them?

Oscar Piastri Figured if she doesn’t like some, she’ll just lend them to me

Francesca when was the last time you read a book? be honest

Oscar Piastri Pre-prema days probably

She stared blankly at the words.

Francesca Gold i have no idea what that means. sorry

There was a short pause, then:

Oscar Piastri Cute :) Before I joined F1, I was in the lower formulas. I was with a team called Prema. That’s the last time I remember reading a book.

Cute. He’d called her cute.

She reread the message at least four times, just to be sure she hadn’t hallucinated it.

Nope. Still there.

She was blushing so hard it felt like her face might actually combust. It was ridiculous. Entirely inappropriate. She was a grown woman — a grown woman who’d once had a panic attack in a Tesco Express and was currently hiding under a weighted blanket like it might save her from the implications of the word cute.

This was uncharted territory. Dangerous, flirty territory. And the worst part?

She kind of liked it.

— 

A week later, Oscar sat in front of the McLaren media backdrop, posture relaxed, eyes half-lidded beneath the bright spotlights. The interview had been going on for ten minutes. Same questions. Slightly different wording.

And then:

“Last one for you, Oscar — what’s something you’ve been enjoying lately? Doesn’t have to be racing-related. Music? TV? Podcasts?”

Oscar paused for a beat, lips twitching. “There’s this YouTuber I’ve been watching. She talks about books.” He shrugs, playing it off as casually as he can. “It’s kind of calming. I’ve been into that lately.”

He moved on to the next question, pointedly ignoring the deer-in-headlights stare from Lando. 

— 

Francesca hadn’t tuned in to watch any of the driver press conferences. She had too much editing to do and not enough time to get it all done before her deadlines.

She was knee-deep in timestamps, captions, and a particularly annoying bit of background noise she couldn’t quite scrub out when her phone buzzed once.

Then again. And again.

And then Katie texted her in all caps.

iMessage — Francesca & Katie

Katie: OSCAR. MENTIONED. YOU.

Katie: LIKE OUT LOUD. IN FRONT OF ACTUAL PEOPLE.

*link*

Feeling numb, she clicked the link and watched the 10-second clip.

And then she watched it again.

And again.

“There’s this YouTuber I’ve been watching. She talks about books. It’s kind of calming.”

No name. No direct reference. But the moment hung in the air like a secret someone had shouted through a megaphone. She almost laughed at the expression on Lando’s face — pure astonishment. 

Her Instagram notifications were already spiralling. A few thousand new followers. Two brand accounts she’d never heard of trying to DM her. And someone had already screen-recorded the moment and posted it to Twitter.

“BOOKTUBE GIRLIE IS BOOKTUBING INTO OSCAR PIASTRI’S HEART”

“he’s so real for watching a comfort girl on youtube before bed”

“get her name now i want to see her tiktoks before the algorithm ruins it”

Francesca blinked at her phone. 

Oh. That was… better than last time, at least. 

Then again, they had no idea who she was yet. They were just blindly trusting their idols opinion. As soon as they looked further into her channel, watched a few videos, they’d realise that she wasn’t exactly… normal. 

She swallowed thickly. 

Her phone pinged with a message.

Katie:

You okay? 

Francesca: 

Yeah

—

Instagram DM’s — Oscar Piastri > Francesca Gold

Oscar Piastri Sorry. Hope that wasn’t weird Reckon I should’ve checked with you before I did that 

She inhaled sharply, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Francesca Gold bit overwhelmed tbh but i like that you like my vids enough to actually talk about them

Oscar Piastri I really do Do you have any new ones coming soon? I'm travelling a lot over the next few weeks 

She buried her face in her hands, sighing loudly.

Because she was smiling.

— 

She wasn’t expecting it.

She’d woken up later than planned, face smooshed into her pillow, hair doing some kind of modern art sculpture around her head. Her phone was tucked under the duvet with her — a terrible habit — and she blinked at the bright screen as it buzzed once in her hand.

Oscar Piastri sent a voice message.

Her heart stopped. She stared at the notification with shock. 

A voice message. At 8:13 a.m. On a Friday.

“No,” she whispered aloud, already flailing to sit up, which only caused Henry to jump down from her legs with a dramatic mrrrow of protest. “Henry. He’s sent us a voice note. A bloody voice note.” 

Henry didn’t react. 

She hesitated for a solid minute before pressing play, holding the phone just close enough that she could hear it, but far enough away that she could easily throw it across the room if she needed to. You know… precautions. 

Oscar’s voice filtered through the speaker, low and rough with sleep, the edge of a yawn tangled in his tone.

“Morning. Sorry for the voice thing — texting felt like too much effort and I’m not awake enough to type properly yet. Just wanted to say thanks for the book ideas. She loved them. You’ve officially saved my status as Best Brother Ever.” There was a beat of silence, and then he added, quietly, “Hope you slept okay.”

And the message ended.

Francesca stared at her phone. “No.” She whispered. 

Henry, now settled beside her again, chirped.

“No, Henry. You don’t understand. That was his morning voice. That’s like... illegal.” She choked out, feeling like she’d been turned inside-out. 

Henry purred and rubbed his head against her phone. 

She stared at her cat with bewilderment. “Oh my god. You like him. You like his voice.”

She pressed a hand to her chest and fell backward into her pillows.

“What do I even say to that?” she muttered to the ceiling. “Do I... send a voice note back? No. That’s psychotic. I don’t sound like… sexy. Not in the morning. Not any time.” She panicked. 

Henry meowed again. 

Before she could do anything, her phone lit up again—this time with a FaceTime call.

“Katie, no,” she groaned, but her thumb betrayed her and answered anyway.

Katie’s face appeared, framed by her usual messy bun and a spoon hanging out of her mouth. “Hey, I’m eating yoghurt and I just had a feeling.”

Francesca stared at her, incredulous. “What kind of psychic yoghurt-fuelled sixth sense do you have?”

“The kind that goes off when you ignore my morning text.” She squinted. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

Francesca wordlessly switched to the Instagram app and tapped to replay the voice note.

Katie leaned in, eyes wide. The moment Oscar’s gravelly morning voice hit the speaker, she dropped her spoon and sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Oh my god,” she said, slow and reverent. “He sent you a bed voice note?”

“Don’t call it that.” Francesca hissed, absolutely mortified. 

“What else do you want me to call it? He sounds like he literally just rolled out of bed and thought, ‘You know what? Let me send Francesca a little audio kiss to start her day.’”

Francesca curled into a tight ball of limbs. “Oh my god, shut up. He was thanking me for the book suggestions. It was innocent.”

“Babe. That voice was not innocent. That voice had vibes.” 

Henry meowed from where he was curled up once again, clearly in agreement.

“Oh god,” Francesca muttered, forlorn at this turn of events. “Even Henry likes him.”

Katie beamed. “Because Henry’s got taste. Also, side note—you need to respond.”

“I can’t respond! What if I sound like a frog? What if I say something weird? I almost told him he has a nice voice and then realised I’d have to move to another country out of embarrassment.”

“If you don’t respond, I will,” Katie threatened, sitting cross-legged in her chair like she had all the power in the world.

Francesca’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”

Katie raised a perfectly groomed brow. “I literally have your login, Francesca. Try me. I’ll tell him you fainted from the sheer sex appeal of his voice. I’ll sign it off with sparkles.”

Francesca gasped. “You are evil. Actual evil.”

“Not evil,” Katie said sweetly. “Just a manager who refuses to let her best friend fumble a flirtation with, arguably, the hottest F1 driver on the grid.” 

Francesca hung up on her.

Rudely. Desperately. With the kind of energy reserved for someone trying to escape a burning building.

Then she went back to the Instagram app, thumb hovering over the little microphone icon. She stared at it for a full minute, heart pounding, brain spinning, stomach flipping.

She cleared her throat. Twice.

And then, because thinking only made things worse, she closed her eyes… and spoke.

“Hi, um. Sorry—voice notes are terrifying, but you sent one first, so… fair’s fair?” She winced at her own voice. “Anyway. I hope your sister really did like the books. If she didn’t, that’s totally okay. You don’t have to pretend. I won’t be offended. Probably.”

Her cheeks were on fire now. She forced herself to keep going.

“I also Googled Prema. I knew you’d won F2 and F3, but I had no idea what teams you’d driven for. So…” She laughed under her breath, light and awkward. “Anyway. Thanks for the voice note. You—uh, have a nice voice. Okay. Bye.”

She hit send before she could stop herself, phone clutched to her chest. 

Henry turned to stare at her. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, flopping sideways. “You’d be a mess too if a ridiculously handsome Australian race car driver voice-noted you.”

Her phone buzzed almost instantly, a message that time. Thank god. She wasn’t sure how much more deep, manly Australian accent she could handle. 

Oscar Piastri I definitely win for most awkward voice note. Yours was cute. Also, she loved the books. You’re 1 for 1.

She smiled so hard it hurt.

Francesca Gold what’s her instagram user? 

Oscar Piastri @hattiepiastri 

Francesca Gold <3 thanks 

—

Instagram DM’s — Francesca Gold > Hattie Piastri 

Francesca Gold Hey! Sry if this is weird, just wanted to say happy late bday and I’m really glad you’re enjoying the books. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I threw a bunch of genre’s together and just hoped for the best. 

Hattie Piastri 

Oh my god, HI! First of all, I just want to tell you how much I love your videos. I’ve been subscribed since your channel was like, 2 months old haha. 

Thank you so much for helping Oscar out. He’s a useless gift giver, but I know he tries. He was really happy to be able to give me something I actually liked this year. So, yeah. Thank you. 

Francesca Gold

I was scared you'd hate them all. I'm glad you didn't. :)

—

Francesca Gold just followed Hattie Piastri 

—

iMessage — Hattie & Nicole 

Hattie:

Oscar has literally met his soulmate and has no idea 

He’s such an idiot omg hahahahaha

Nicole: 

Come downstairs. I need to know everything. 

CHAPTER THREE

[cece693]

PLEASE MORE ASGARDIAN M!READER!!!

May I suggest a fic where the reader wants to bond closely to Wanda and Natasha but, is afraid because their only concept of sister relationships was Hela (reader is a little scared of Hela 😔 due to her destructive nature). Can I also add that the reader has slightly long hair (shoulder length) to braid!

Thank you for your talent and dedication!

He's Cute (Pt. 1.5)

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: wanda and natasha are the best, sibling duo, getting ready for the date, hints of WandaNat/ScarletWidow, bucky being adorably smitten, yes 1.5 cause pt. 2 is the actual date :)

You fiddled nervously with the ends of your hair, pacing the length of your borrowed bedroom in the Avengers Compound for what felt like the hundredth time. Today was the day: your very first official Earth date. With none other than Bucky Barnes. Just the thought of it sent a rush of excitement (and panic) through your veins.

The problem? You had no clue how to prepare for a Midgardian date. A tunic and breeches might scream ‘medieval faire,’ and your more formal Asgardian garb would be even more intimidating. What if Bucky took one look at you and decided you were too over-the-top or—in the worst scenario—ran for the hills? Then there was your hair. Should you leave it loose? Tie it back? Attempt some elaborate braid?

What if I make a total fool of myself? you thought, tugging on your hair with a frustrated groan. You considered consulting Thor—briefly—until your imagination conjured an image of him bellowing, “Wear your finest Asgardian leathers!” and slapping you on the back so hard you’d stumble. Not exactly helpful.

You also thought about Tony or Steve, but quickly dismissed those options. Tony might tease you relentlessly, and while Steve was sweet, he was probably as clueless as you when it came to modern dating intricacies.

That left two people you admired from a (sometimes intimidated) distance: Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff. You’d seen how confident and stylish they both were—able to slip into a gown or tactical gear with equal flair. If anyone can help me blend Asgardian flair with Midgard style, you reasoned, it’s them.

Trouble was, the concept of “sisterly” assistance made your stomach twist. Your only sisterly figure had been Hela—and she was the embodiment of destructive chaos. Whenever you thought of “sisterly bonds,” images of shadowy blades and a mocking sneer intruded on your mind. Still, you had no one else to turn to, and time was running out.

It didn’t take long to find them. Wanda lounged on a couch, sipping tea and reading a worn paperback. Natasha reclined in an armchair nearby, scrolling through her phone. They exuded a relaxed warmth that made your nerves surge all over again—how did you even start this conversation?

Wanda glanced up first, her warm eyes creasing in a small smile. “Oh! (Y/N), did you need something?”

Natasha flicked her gaze over to you, phone still in hand. “You look like you’re either about to faint or confess a murder. Everything okay?”

Embarrassed, you rubbed the back of your neck. “I—I’m sorry to interrupt. I know you’re both probably busy, but I…I have a date. With Bucky,” you added softly, feeling your cheeks heat at the admission. “And I have no idea what to wear or how to do my hair, or—anything, really.”

Wanda’s eyebrows rose, and a slow grin spread across her face. “A date with Bucky? That’s adorable.”

Natasha set aside her phone, crossing her arms. “So you want a bit of a makeover?”

You cleared your throat, nerves clashing with relief. “Yes. Please. I don’t know how Earth dates usually go. I’m used to, well…armor and father-gifts, and illusions if I want to ‘dress up.’ But that’s not exactly the vibe here.”

Both women chuckled at that. Natasha stood and motioned for Wanda to follow. “Come on, let’s get you set up. And don’t worry—you’re not bothering us. We’d love to help you not show up to your date in full Asgardian regalia.”

Natasha led you to what appeared to be a converted storage room. Racks of clothing lined the walls, and a couple of tall dressers stood at one end. You caught glimpses of everything from formal evening wear to casual street clothes—no doubt a stockpile from Tony’s various shopping sprees.

“Okay,” Natasha declared, scanning the racks. “We need something comfortable but sharp. You want to catch Bucky’s eye without screaming I’m a prince from another realm.”

Wanda’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Though, honestly, you could show up in a paper bag and he’d probably swoon.”

You felt your cheeks flame. “I—um, I just don’t want to look foolish.”

Natasha brushed aside a row of jackets. “We won’t let that happen. Trust us. Let’s see…” She paused, sizing you up. “You’ve got a good build—broad shoulders, trim waist. We should highlight that. Maybe a well-fitted shirt.”

Wanda’s gaze flicked between you and Natasha. “Oooh, yes. And if we can find a color that brings out his eyes…” She rummaged through a section of button-downs.

That left you standing there, feeling slightly awkward, as they pulled items from hangers and debated the merits of each. You shifted from foot to foot, your anxiety creeping in. This is far less terrifying than dealing with Hela, right? you told yourself. And yet, your heart hammered in your chest.

Eventually, Wanda triumphantly held up a simple, fitted gray button-down. “This might do,” she said, pressing it to your torso. “It’s not flashy, but it’ll look nice with your coloring.”

Natasha grabbed a pair of dark jeans from the next rack. “Try these on. We’ll see if they fit. If they’re too baggy, we’ve got more.”

Clutching the clothes, you ducked behind a folding screen in the corner. The chatter on the other side continued quietly:

“You think Bucky’s actually ready for a date?” Wanda whispered. “Oh, I’m sure he’s ready,” Natasha replied in the same hushed tone. “Steve says he's been looking at the clock constantly and somehow managed to trip over his own feet. He's more than ready."

Their amused banter made you smile—clearly, Bucky was as worked up about this as you were. That was comforting.

You slid into the jeans and button-down, surprised at how well everything fit. They weren’t Asgardian leathers, but the fabric was soft and flexible, hugging you just right. You stepped out self-consciously. “Well? How do I look?”

Wanda gasped softly, covering her mouth. “(Y/N), you look amazing!”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, arms folded. “Yeah, that’ll do. Sleeves up—roll them a bit. Show off those forearms. Trust me.”

Blushing, you obeyed, feeling a little self-conscious and a little flattered. “You really think Bucky will like it?”

“Absolutely,” Wanda replied, beaming. “He’d have to be blind not to notice how good you look.”

Natasha pretended to examine your outfit with a critical eye, but you noticed a small, knowing smile playing at her lips. Then her gaze flicked to Wanda, and they shared a subtle look—one that made your cheeks flush a second time. You weren’t sure, but it almost seemed like there was a soft warmth passing between the two women, a private understanding that neither was voicing.

Then came the matter of your hair. It fell around your shoulders, a bit unruly from the stress of pacing your room all day. You lifted a lock, hesitating. “Normally, if this were a formal Asgardian function, I’d wear a crown braid or decorative metal clasps that sparkle with runes. But that’s probably too fancy, right?”

Wanda stepped closer, gently running her fingers through your hair in a way that felt surprisingly soothing. “Yes. Maybe we could do a simple side-braid, just enough to keep it out of your face. Or tuck it behind your ears. You have a nice jawline, so let’s show it.”

Natasha approached with a comb and some small hair ties, exchanging that same subtle smile with Wanda as they both set to work. You couldn’t help but notice the soft brush of Wanda’s hand, the way Natasha’s posture angled toward her whenever they spoke. Something about their easy familiarity and gentleness felt domestic, like they’d done this a hundred times…maybe even for each other.

“Relax,” Natasha murmured, positioning you to face a mirror. “We won’t do anything too elaborate. Just enough to keep Bucky’s eyes on you, not on how complicated your hairstyle is.”

Wanda’s lips curved into a playful smirk. “Though he’ll definitely be looking either way.”

They worked in tandem, brushing, smoothing, and expertly twisting a small section of hair into a neat side-braid. With each gentle tug, your tension melted. It felt so normal, to be fussed over by these two formidable Avengers, whose reputations alone could strike fear into entire enemy organizations. Yet here they were, braiding your hair and chatting like older sisters might.

Every so often, you caught a flicker of something more than platonic in their glances—maybe the way Wanda’s hand lingered on Natasha’s wrist when passing a hair clip, or the private smiles they exchanged. It was fleeting, but definitely there. You wondered if you were witnessing the beginnings of something deeper between them—or perhaps it had been there all along, carefully kept behind the scenes.

Finally, Wanda tucked the last strand into place, and Natasha stepped back, admiring their work. “Alright, pretty boy. Check it out.”

You moved to the mirror, heart fluttering in anticipation. The reflection that stared back looked…well, incredible. The blazer fit perfectly, highlighting your form without overpowering your frame. The rolled sleeves revealed just enough forearm to be intriguing, and the subtle side-braid left most of your hair loose but framed your face nicely.

Your mouth fell open. “I—I look…”

“Really, really handsome,” Wanda finished, placing a gentle hand on your back.

Natasha’s smile softened. “You do. And trust me, Bucky will probably forget how to speak for a minute when he sees you.”

A mixture of pride and embarrassment bloomed in your chest. “Thank you. Honestly, I feel so confident. I’ve never had that before.”

Wanda wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Of course. You’re about to go on a date, not face a war. It should be fun.”

Natasha’s gaze turned momentarily serious. “But if he does anything to make you uncomfortable—pressures you, upsets you—” She paused, letting the threat linger, “—I will personally have words with him.”

“And by ‘words,’ she means possibly an entire display of violence,” Wanda teased, but her eyes held a protective glint.

You laughed nervously, appreciating the concern. “I—I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Bucky’s so gentle. But...thank you, just the same.”

Natasha nodded firmly. “We look out for our own. And that includes you.”

Your heart swelled at the sentiment—so this was what a supportive sisterly bond could be, untainted by destruction and usurpation. After some final adjustments (Natasha insisted on adjusting your collar just so, and Wanda fussed with a stray hair you couldn’t see), the two women gave you a double thumbs-up.

“Go knock him dead—figuratively,” Wanda teased. “This is Earth, after all.” Halfway to the front entrance, you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Wanda and Natasha standing side by side, exchanging soft smiles. Wanda murmured something, and Natasha’s cheeks tinted the faintest pink before she turned away.

Maybe I’m not the only one with a new romance on the horizon, you mused, feeling a rush of fondness for both of them.

When you finally reached the main entrance, there was Bucky—hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders tense. The moment his eyes landed on you, all that tension melted. A slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face, and you swore you saw a slight flush creep up his neck.

“Wow,” he breathed, stepping closer. “You look amazing.”

Your cheeks warmed, but this time it was with genuine confidence. “Thanks. Wanda and Nat helped.”

He nodded, seemingly at a loss for words. “Remind me to, uh…thank them later.”

You chuckled softly. “I’ll let them know.”

The two of you exchanged a few shy glances, the air charged with a thrilling sense of possibility. Bucky offered his arm in that old-fashioned way you found so endearing, and you slipped yours through it, feeling a jolt of warmth as your elbow linked with his. “You ready?” he asked, voice tinged with nervous excitement.

You smiled. “I am.”

[reiderwriter]

Unfair We're Not Somewhere

Chapter Eight of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: With a little bit of help from someone who could relate a little bit too closely to your situation, Y/N tries to come clean. Tries.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy symptoms/ general pregnancy things, unsub mentions, plot.

A/N: Chapter Eight! I'm so excited for where the rest of this series is going to go, though I do feel like people are going to be a bit annoyed by this one lmao. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below or in an ask! Don't be too mad...

Masterlist || Add yourself to the tag list

You sat quietly in the clinic as you waited for the pharmacist to fill your prescription - a simple pregnancy multivitamin that was supposed to help your food go down, make your hair shinier, and fix all your problems.

You wondered if the bottle could tell Spencer you were pregnant. You wondered if it could make him magically okay with that and prepare him for fatherhood, too. 

Your phone buzzed, and you surfaced from the field of thoughts you'd been lost in as you checked it. 

“Outside,” an unknown number had sent. You took that as your queue, stood up, and left the clinic, trying your best to avoid looking back at the small boy Spencer had been playing with. 

You weren't sure if you were going to have a boy or a girl yet. You didn't mind either, though you'd always envisioned yourself with a big enough family that you assumed at least one of each was inevitable. Though even you had to admit how stereotypically nuclear that was, and how only 18% of the country was living that was lying anyway. 

You shoved psychology from your head for a few minutes and let yourself breathe.

“Y/N!” JJ signalled from the driver's side of her still running SUV. She waved slightly, and you smiled politely as you quickly paced around to the side of her vehicle and got in. 

“Hi,” you said, unsure if you should introduce yourself or not. She'd been in the office the day you'd been taken into custody (protection), but you still had yet to speak to her. She'd been exempt from protective duty so far due to her status as a senior field agent and the fact that she had two kids and a husband at home waiting for her. 

You were sad she was the anomaly in the BAU, the only one with someone waiting on her. 

“I'm Y/N,” you said, still unsure if you should hold out a hand or not. You hadn't made the best impression on most of Spencer's colleagues, and while you didn't think there was much point in trying, you still couldn't bring yourself to be intentionally blasé. 

“I know, you're all we've been talking about for weeks,” the woman laughed, pulling out of the clinic car park and smiling at you. 

“Oh, right. Case. Of course, I've heard you probably know more about me than I know about myself.” 

“We have a profile, sure, but that's not what I meant.” 

You nodded awkwardly and stared out the window for a second, the sky darkening slightly as it prepared to rain. 

You drove for a few minutes before JJ spoke up again. 

“I don't know if Emily told you, but it's actually my day off today,” she said, turning off into a cul-de-sac you'd never seen before. 

“Oh, oh my god, I'm so sorry. I could've just got a taxi or something or just… gotten over myself. You didn't have to-” 

“Yes, I did,” she looked at you for a second, cocking her head to the side in a gesture that said, ‘and you know why.’ It was a look only a friend would give, and you felt an instant connection with her. 

How had Spencer found so many wonderful, big-hearted women to surround himself with, and how could you get in on it? 

You supposed, by letting him get you pregnant, you'd probably found a cheat code for whatever the answer might have been. 

“Anyway, it's my day off, so I promised my boys a fun day at home with mommy. We're doing finger painting and macaroni art. I hope you don't mind getting messy.” 

“Wha-? Me? Oh. No, not at all,” you tried to seem nonchalant, but your heart suddenly beat faster now that you were faced with this unexpected opportunity. As a lecturer, you'd been surrounded by kids professionally for years now. 18 to 21 year old kids. The kind that already had defined morals, world views, and, secretly, alcohol tolerances. The last time you'd encountered any kind of child younger than 18 was when you yourself were under 18.

The joys of toiling away at a doctorate for the better half of your adult life. You knew how to talk to professors and scholars. You were absolutely scared shitless of interacting with a kid. 

“H-How old are they?” You asked, trying to sound polite but falling somewhere between anxious and terrified with a simple stutter. 

“Well, Henry is turning 8 in November, and Michael is just about 22 months. He's just about talking, which is as fun as you can expect.” 

Her voice was tired, but there was genuine affection there, love for her kids and pride. You wondered if your voice would change if you'd suddenly begin speaking like that, too, about something other than a paper submitted to a journal or a job opportunity. 

She pulled into a street parking space and turned off the engine as two bright haired little boys came bouncing up the path of their garden to greet her, stopping at the gate. 

“Mommy! Michael got glitter on the carpet, and Daddy said we shouldn't tell you.” 

“And you have no sense of loyalty when a pretty face comes around, do you?”

Hopping out of the car, you heard JJ's husband drawl as she greeted him with a kiss. She'd probably only taken half an hour to pick you up, but they were still greeting each other so warmly. For a second, you wondered what that would be like before you remembered throwing yourself into Spencer's arms the night before. Your face heated as you stood awkwardly at the side of the car, trying not to cradle your stomach as you watched the family interact. 

Would your baby ever get that tall? Would it have brown eyes like Spencer, or one's more similar to your own? His hair was curly. Maybe your baby would get hair that waved like his, too. 

After all, JJ's kids seemed like perfect compromises between her and her husband. Other people's kids didn't, though. You wondered a lot of things before JJ gestured you over again. 

“Henry, Michael, this is Aunt Y/N. She's going to do those crafts with us today - after we've locked away the glitter and thrown away the key.” 

You laughed as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pushed you forward into the chaos of two kids under ten. 

You were a little startled as the smaller one - Michael - grabbed your hand. He had a pacifier in his mouth, though he was probably outgrowing it, and he stared up at you with big, wide eyes, blinking and sizing you up as he toddled along beside you. 

Your heart grew three sizes, and you felt sorry for ever being afraid of interacting with the kids. 

JJ whispered to her husband quickly as you entered the LaMontagne household, and he greeted you quickly. 

“So you're Spencer's lady friend. It's nice to meet you. It's nice that you're real. Honestly, I was getting a little-” 

A look from JJ cut him off, though he did still seem a bit confused. 

“I'm sorry, am I under the wrong impression? JJ said you were pregnant with Spencer's baby, y'all aren't…” 

“Oh my god-” you whispered, suddenly panicking again but whispering just in case. You weren't sure if the pair was religious, and though you certainly weren't, it probably wasn't the best time to blaspheme. You needed as much god as existed in the world. 

“So, does everyone know?” You asked JJ, trying to keep your voice bright and calm, so Michael didn't take too much of an interest and grow frustrated by hushed tones. You knew enough about child development and psychology, it translated over, right? 

“Everyone who's observant. Luke noticed the pregnancy vitamins in your bag, Tara was talking about your mood swings in the office the other day. I guess you told Emily earlier, and I have two kids.” 

You nodded at the answer. 

“And Spencer?” 

“You haven't told him yet?” JJ asked, slightly surprised. 

“If I told him, you'd know.” 

“Well, you're right on that. He's not the most easy-going during pregnancy,” JJ laughed and steered you into the living space, where your de facto art studio had been set up for the day, along with the offending glitter bomb. 

“Really? You thought you could keep that a secret?” 

“Well, of anyone was going to find it, it was going to be my beautiful, smart, funny, profiler Wife,” Will said, giving her a small peck on the cheek as she rolled her eyes at him. “I'm clocking in now. Call me if you need anything.” 

You waved him off, and sat down with the kids. 

JJ started the craft and then planned your hasty escape as the two boys were enraptured by making the perfect macaroni necklace, dusting it in objectively too much glitter as they proudly created their art. 

In the kitchen, she handed you a mug, and you sipped it quietly as she began again. 

“So, you're not dating?” 

“Nope.”

“And he doesn't know you're pregnant?” 

“No.” You took another sip and shifted from one foot to the other. 

You knew what was coming next. It was what you'd gotten next from Emily, from Penelope, from yourself when you'd thought about it for longer than ten seconds. You needed to tell him. 

“Okay. What's your next move?” 

You were so shocked you almost splashed the hot tea over the mug you held, close to burning yourself as you turned to face her. 

“I… what?” 

“Well, what's your next move? You're what, five months along? You're not going to be able to hide it for much longer. And you have to think about maternity leave, your hospital stay, and names, and who's going to drive you to the hospital. And obviously, how you're going to pay the hospital fee, and then custody and child support.”

“Oh god…” 

“And you also have to sort your relationship out with Spencer. So where are you starting?” 

It wasn't a question that didn't have an answer. JJ was staring at you, waiting for one as you opened and closed your mouth, head suddenly so empty you almost forgot what you were talking about. 

“He doesn't like me,” you suddenly blurted and wished you hadn't, face crumpling as you physically cringed at your own words. 

“Y/N, he was telling us about your toothbrush yesterday. Part of the office has a theory that he made up this case as a reason to get closer to you.” 

Again, you felt the heat blossom on tour skin as you looked away, taking another sip. 

“We don't do anything but argue.” 

“You do at least one other thing,” JJ said, hands on her hips as she confronted you. 

“No, that doesn't count. We were still arguing while we were doing…that.” 

“TMI,” she groaned as you fanned yourself. “Y/N, I know for a fact that Spencer is at least half in love with you. If you're absolutely sure you don't feel the same way, you need to at least let him down easy.”

“I…. I don't know. He's infuriating sometimes, but then he's so smart and annoying. But he's pretty great at comforting me. And the, uh, the other stuff, that was good, too.” 

“Don't need to-” 

“Like really good. Like, I'm not surprised I ended up pregnant practically first time good-” 

“Back on topic, please!” JJ whisper shouted, throwing her hands up as you zipped your mouth shut.

“You like him,” she said. 

You sighed and finally gave in. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I like him.” 

“Great. What next?” 

“Next, I tell him I'm pregnant and make him hate me for a while.” 

She patted you on the back and poised you another mug of tea before leading you back over to the kids and sitting beside them at the table. 

“We can plan something later. For now, macaroni art is calling.”

You weren't sure if it was the stern, practical pep-talk from JJ or the little tiny grasp of your hand from Michael. Maybe it was even Henry's goodbye of ‘see you soon, Auntie Y/N’ that had you suddenly invigorated, but you suddenly kicked yourself into gear. 

The pregnancy wasn't going to put itself on pause while you worked up the courage to tell Spencer about it. You had to do it. 

JJ dropped you off at home at 6 p.m., knowing that Spencer would be back at the apartment shortly. 

“You're sure you don't need me to stay up there with you? The commute can get a bit long this time of night, Spencer could be anywhere between 15 and 45 minutes.”

“No, I think… I think I need some time to think about how I'm going to do this. I need some alone time.”

She nodded quietly and sent you off after calling Spencer and giving him an update on your whereabouts. 

You paced the apartment wondering what the best option was. 

You could go for the bookshelf again, though it was still organised into your first message. You'd not moved a book in that stack at all, and surprisingly, neither had Spencer. 

Running into your room, you grabbed the pair of baby shoes you'd thrown into your bag from your apartment. Maybe if you left them on the shelf next to the books…? 

You put them there and frowned, wondering if he'd be able to see them from the door when he walked in. He was so used to the surroundings of his house that he really didn't check for irregularities. 

You moved them to the coffee table. Then you wondered if you should just hand them to him when he walked in. 

“Spencer. I am..pregnant,” you practised, looking into the bathroom mirror as you tried to force a smile. 

“Spencer. We're pregnant. No, not a chance,” you sighed. 

“Spencer, I have a parasite growing in me. I've had it for five months now, and then I'll have it for another four and hopefully a long time after that as well.” 

That one was mostly a joke. Mostly. 

“Spencer, I… We're going to have a baby.” You looked down at your bump again and decided that was probably your best option. It wasn't a state. It wasn't a condition or a parasite. It was a baby. 

You rubbed your stomach again and looked up, wiping away tears from the corner of your eye as you composed yourself again. 

The doorbell rang, and your heart race picked up. It was time. Spencer was home, and you were going to tell him. 

Suddenly, you were filled with excitement, with happiness. You ran to the door, stepping on the sofa to get there quicker as you ran to pull it open. 

Maybe it was the pregnancy brain fog, but you forgot where you were. 

Spencer Reid lived in this apartment. He didn't need to knock on the door or ring the doorbell. He'd never done it before. But you'd already swung the door open quickly, and you were so relaxed and ready for it to be him that when a hand extended and covered your mouth with a cloth, thick with a scent that had your body protesting, you could do nothing but crumple to the floor with your hands cradling yourself, protecting the life growing within you. 

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Treat You | Jeon Jungkook | One Shot

Summary: You wanted to take Jungkook out this time around but things don't go according to plan Paring: f!reader x Jungkook (established relationship) Word Count: 1.6k~ short and sweet Warnings: Just some suggestive language but nothing crazy p.s. I wrote this in one sitting so hopefully it's okay lol Requested by an anon 💜

"Baby" Jungkook answers the phone, his gravelly morning voice sending shivers up my spine. "Did I wake you?" I coo, not expecting him to be sleeping this late making him hum in response. "I should probably get up now though" he says as I start to hear movement in the background. 

"Did you work late?" I ask, knowing he like to put in overtime when he can. "Yeah, just a few hours though" he says, making me hum. "Can I take you out today?" I offer, my heart fluttering even after all this time we've been together. "You wanna take me out?" he chuckles, the sound making me bite my lip. 

He's so fucking sexy in the morning and I'll never get over it.

"Yeah why not? It's been a while since I treated you" I say, hoping he'll bite. "You sure? You don't have to spend your money on me love" he says and I shake my head before remembering we're on the phone. 

"You always pay for everything so I wanna pay this time" I say, making my argument and he chuckles again, telling me he's giving in. "How could I say no when such a pretty girl is asking me out?" he agrees making me smile, the praise unexpected. 

"I'll pick you up at seven" I say but he tries to protest. "I can pick you up princess" he offers but I decline right away. "No. I'm taking you out so I'm driving" I say and he sighs. "I guess I forgot that my girl is so independent, letting me take care of her all the time" he says, his tone laced with something dangerous making me blush. 

"Um, I'll see you then...bye!" I rush to end the call, not wanting to give into asking to see him sooner. 

I want this date to be perfect, I want everything to be perfect.

~~~~~

After getting ready and giving myself a once over one more time I check my purse and see that I can't find my wallet. I furrow my brows, trying to remember the last time I saw it leaving me digging through my closet but after twenty minutes of searching I still come up empty handed. 

I pace back and forth in my room, trying to figure out where I could've left it if not in here but I can't seem to figure it out, leaving me huffing in defeat, looking at the clock and seeing that I'm gonna be late. 

I check inside my purse to see if I have any cash but only manage to find a twenty which is nowhere near enough to take him out to the restaurant I placed our dinner reservations at.

I do another once over and decide to admit defeat, seeing that I'm gonna have to make a change of plans and see if I can manage to take him out with what I have...

~~~~

"I was beginning to think you forgot about me" he chuckles when he sees me standing outside my car and holding the door open, showing up thirty minutes late. "You? Never" I tease leaving him giving me a kiss before sitting down, giving him the passenger princess role for the night.

I close the door once he's all settled in and take a deep breath, giving myself a small pep talk about how everything will be okay even if I can't take him where I wanted to. 

Once I get in I look over at him, the brave face that I told myself I would sport is replaced with a slightly pouty one making his brows pop up and immediately going to caress my face. 

"What's the matter baby?" he asks, brushing his thumb along the apple of my cheek. "I'm sorry, I should've been more responsible but I..." I start, cutting myself off, completely embarrassed that this is happening. "It's okay, just tell me" he coaxes me, making my eyes water. 

"I can't take you out tonight" I say, my voice so quiet he could barely hear it. "Why? What's wrong?" he says, worried that something might've happened. "I...I don't know where my card is so I don't have enough money to pay" I admit, looking down at my lap, trying to hide how upset this made me. 

I wanted to do something nice for him, something to show him how much I appreciate everything he's done for me but I couldn't even take him out for a nice dinner.

"Hey, it's okay" he says and brings my face back over to him. "No it's not okay. I wanted everything to be perfect! I wanted you to have a good time and I just messed it up. Now all I can afford to get you is some fast food burger like this is so embarrassing" I groan, slumping back in my chair and covering my face, hating that something like this is making me so upset. 

"Get out of the car" he says making me look at him like he's grown two heads. "Wha-?" "Come on get out of the car" he urges me and I do as he says. "What are yo-" "Switch places with me" he says and I follow without much of an argument since his behavior has caught me completely off guard. 

"Get in" he says, making me sit down and closing the door for me just like I had done for him a few minutes ago, completely motionless and confused, waiting for him to get into the driver's seat. 

"Jungkook what are you doing?" I ask he he hands me his phone. "Put in the address" he orders, his directions short and to the point. "Jungkook I don't have enough money to go there" I finally argue back. "And I don't care" he says making me question what's gotten into him.

"I don't wanna see you that upset over money ever again. I'm your boyfriend and I work hard to take care of you" he says and when I go to argue back he stops me. "You're my girlfriend and I take care of what's mine. We both dressed up to go out tonight so we're going out and that's final" he states but when I go to try tell him I don't want him to pay he jumps over top of me again. 

"End of discussion" he finishes, his jaw set and his eyes dark, daring me to argue with him but I just gulp and put in the address. 

~~~~~

The car ride is a bit quieter than normal after that, the low hum of the engine and the melody of our playlist coming through the speakers being the only sounds to keep us company. I turned to face away from him this time, my legs resting against the door instead of the center console making it impossible for him to rest his hand on my thigh, not wanting to give in after the way he talked to me. 

"Baby what's wrong?" he finally asks once we pull up to the restaurant, my silence going on for a lot longer than he had expected. "You didn't let me say anything" I mumble and he sighs, knowing he was definitely a lot more harsh than he needed to be. 

"I'm sorry honey I was...I was just really mad seeing you so stressed and upset over something that I could easily solve for you" he says and I hum, understanding his perspective but not appreciating the way he went about it...even if he did look really hot doing it. 

"You always pay for everything though. It makes me feel useless, like I'm just here to spend all of your money" I huff, finally admitting what's been bothering me for a while. 

"I don't see it as you spending my money. If anything you hardly ever ask me for anything so whenever you do say something I jump on it. I like getting you things and seeing that adorable look on your face when I know you love it makes it all worth it. Taking care of you makes me feel like I'm doing right by you so, please let me" he asks, explaining himself now, making me see things from his perspective. 

After taking a second to think about it and seeing the sincere look on his face I nod, accepting defeat because he'd do it anyways even if I said no. "Okay, just don't do it all the time" I say, poking his cheek and making him smile. 

"Deal, now let's go have a nice time together and forget about all of this. Then after we're done you can treat me tonight" he says, confusing me again. "But I told you I don't have money right now unless you want a milkshake or something after dinner" I say, offering that up but he chuckles darkly. 

"I wasn't talking about money princess" his eyes scan my body, taking in each and every inch of it making my skin crawl. "Did I tell you you look really pretty tonight?" he asks and I shake my head, unable to breathe with this heated tension that's grown between us. 

"You'll look even prettier on your knees for me tonight" he says, running his thumb across my bottom lip before getting out of the car and coming over to open my door for me.

"You can't just say things like that and expect me to sit through a whole dinner afterwards" I mumble before getting out of the car. "But I just did" he taunts and pulls me in by my hips before shamelessly feeling me up and kissing me before taking my hand and leading me towards the entrance. 

"You're impossible" I grumble making him laugh and snake his arm around my waist instead. "Impossibly handsome" he teases and kisses me on my cheek making me roll my eyes. "That too" I grumble and spend the rest of the dinner mentally preparing myself for the very, very long night ahead...

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[raysrays]

Crimson Guardian Part2 NSFW

Please check out Part One

Kyojuro Rengoku x Wife! Reader

18+ MDNI!🚫

CW: NSFW Content, minor angst, controlling/manipulating behavior, fluff-ish.

Y/N POV

Scenario: Once you agree to Kyojuro's request, you gather with Kagaya and the other Hashira to share your decision to retire early. But as you spend time with Kyojuro, you start noticing some changes in his behavior. You can't help but wonder, did you make a big mistake? He's your husband, after all. Surely, he wouldn't try to control or manipulate you. Maybe he's just worried about your safety and wants the best for you, right?

- Two Endings

A month had passed since I laid down my sword for the last time. I've spent my time at the Rengoku Estate as I had anticipated, assisting Senjuro with chores and cooking, while striving to earn Shinjuro's favor.

However, it all felt sluggish my days stretched out, feeling so unproductive.

Kyojuro was called on a mission far away, and he's been gone for almost two weeks now. I find myself overcome with loneliness, feeling hollow inside.

When I wasn't busy helping Senjuro, I often took walks and started getting into reading, though lately, I've found myself drawn to books on swordsmanship and battle techniques. It might seem pointless now, but it's all I have to occupy my mind.

Many times, I caught myself pacing around the estate, practicing fighting stances or swinging an imaginary sword, earning some strange looks from anyone nearby.

But I couldn't bring myself to share any of this with Kyojuro. I wanted him to believe I had moved on from being a demon slayer. Instead, I painted a picture of focusing on myself and preparing for the prospect of starting a family.

I've been writing to him almost every day since he left, keeping him updated on what's been happening back home and just checking in on him.

He says his mission has been successful so far, and he should be home very soon, which is good news. It's difficult to fully embrace retirement when the person you did it for isn't even here to enjoy it with you.

.

.

Today has been particularly slow. All I've done is help water the plants outside and dive deeper into my books. Shinjuro has been in his room, drinking, while Senjuro has been practicing his writing inside. And here I am, sitting under this same tree, reading the same book on breathing techniques for the past three hours...

However, my entire mood shifted the moment I heard the cawing of a crow announcing Kyojuro's return from his mission. He was finally home.

I could feel the excitement as I watched him walk through the gates of the estate, his big, bright eyes and fiery hair a welcome sight.

It didn't take long for him to spot me, as he quickly ran up and grabbed me, spinning me around in his arms.

"I've missed you so much, my little flame!" His booming voice was a comforting sound to hear in this moment.

I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck as he held me.

"I missed you so much, Kyo." It didn't take long for that hollow feeling I had earlier to finally disappear.

After he finally put me down, he pulled away to get a better look at me, scanning me up and down with his usual happy smile.

"You look so beautiful, my dear. Retirement seems to be treating you well already!"

"Oh, do you really think so?"

"Of course, sunflower. It's good to finally see you dressed casually and enjoying yourself at home. One of the main reasons my mission was such a success was because I wasn't worried about you. I knew you would be here waiting for me when I returned. I knew you would be safe."

I almost felt guilty. Since he left, I've been so bored out of my mind, stuck here at the estate, but if it’s really helping by keeping his mind at ease while he’s away I guess I don’t mind.

"How are you doing, my love? I know writing in letters can only reveal so much. Are you really okay?"

His voice softened, and his smile grew gentler. My heart raced at the sound. No matter how much time passed, I was still as in love and attracted to Kyojuro as I was the first time we met.

"Yes, I'm doing great. Senjuro and I have been quite productive lately. We even discussed setting up a small vegetable garden in the yard to reduce our trips to the village market." I forced a happy smile onto my face.

"That's wonderful news! I'm so happy you're finally making this old place your own." He then pulled me into another hug, burying me in his chest.

I couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth—that I was bored and missed the core and all my comrades and friends. They had all become so busy with work that I went from seeing them every day to never at all, so quickly.

As I relaxed into his embrace, I felt his body tense slightly. He pulled away from me slowly, his expression puzzled.

"Sunflower... what is it you're reading?"

I glanced behind me to see my book still lying on the ground, its cover exposed. It was just a book, surely not that significant.

"Oh, that's just an old breathing technique book I found in the study room. I thought it looked the most interesting out of the available options."

He looked at me for a moment, then took my hands in his, holding them tightly.

"My love, if you had told me you wanted to read, I would have gladly bought you as many books as you wanted. You don't need to waste your time sitting and reading about attacks and breathing techniques anymore." His voice was filled with concern.

Little did he know, I chose this book specifically to occupy my mind. If I couldn't fight anymore, the least I could do was read about it.

"That's sweet of you, Kyo, but honestly, I don't mind."

His smile returned somewhat, and he moved his hands to hold my shoulders, gently leading me back to the main part of the estate.

"Let's get you inside, my love. I'll tell you all about my mission!"

I allowed him to guide me back, passing Senjuro on the way.

"Go ahead, little flame. I need to have a word with Senjuro."

I observe as he starts walking toward his younger brother; they engage in conversation, and I begin to make my way indoors.

Despite my initial intention to leave, a strange hesitation washes over me. I linger by the doorframe, eavesdropping on their discussion.

Senjuro's voice reaches me first. "Welcome home, brother. How was your mission?"

"It went smoothly. I'm relieved to be back," he responds, pausing briefly.

"Senjuro, how's Y/N? Have you noticed anything unusual about her lately?" My ears perk up at the mention of my name.

"Y/N? She seems fine, I suppose. She's been quite helpful with chores around here," Senjuro replies.

"I see. Have you noticed her reading more?" he probes further.

"I think so. Though I'm not sure what she's been reading," Senjuro admits.

"I see. Please, keep an eye on her for me, Senjuro. I'm concerned," Kyojuro says, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Concerned about her reading?" Senjuro's confusion is evident.

"No, just in general."

With that, I turned away from the door, deciding it was best to stop listening in.

Why would Kyojuro worry about me? I'm safe at home, just like he wanted. Wasn't that the whole point of being here? To ease his mind?

I can feel a mix of frustration brewing inside me, and I'm not sure if it's aimed at Kyojuro or myself. I've always prided myself on my swordsmanship, setting high goals and pushing myself hard to protect others and find purpose.

But now, I can't even enjoy reading a book about what I love without making my husband worry.

I step into the kitchen, ready to get a head start on preparing dinner. Gathering the cooking utensils and spices, I realize all that's left is to chop some of the vegetables.

As I rinse them off, I notice we're short on a few key ingredients.

My garden plans with Senjuro would have been perfect right now. Looks like I'll have to make another trip to the market.

Letting out a small sigh, I tidy up and head towards the door to slip on my shoes. Honestly, I could use some fresh air. I feel guilty leaving knowing Kyojuro just got here, but I think he’d much rather dinner be super good than complain about me stepping out.

I had a stranger Lingering feeling. There's something about his smile that feels off, like there's a hidden pressure behind it. Why?

As I'm slipping on my shoes, I sense someone standing over me.

"Where are you off to, sunflower?" Kyojuro inquires.

"Just getting a head start on dinner and realized we're missing a few things. I was about to run to the market," I reply.

"Hurry back to me, my love. You know I don't like it when you're away." His warm smile could melt anyone's heart.

He plants a kiss on my cheek before heading back into the other room.

As much as I adore him and miss him, I need just a moment alone to think right now.

As I make my way to the village, I pick up some vegetables, meat, and a few other things we need for the estate. On my way back, I spot Tengen and his wives. They seem to notice me too, especially Makio, who starts waving enthusiastically in my direction.

I walk over to them, feeling happy to finally see some familiar faces. It feels like it's been ages since we last caught up.

“Y/N, it's good to see you," Tengen greets warmly.

“How have you been? We haven’t seen you in forever!” Makio cries out excitedly.

"I've been well, how are all of you?"

"We've been doing just great," he responds.

"How's, uh, retirement?" Hina asks with a half smile.

"Oh, retirement has been... great," I reply, attempting to sound convincing, though I'm not entirely sure I believe it myself.

Tengen lets out a sarcastic laugh. "Sorry, but it's just so hard to believe. You had one of the flashiest breathing styles and trained almost every day, only to retire before becoming a Hashira. I just always thought you were too stubborn to quit so early.”

Hina shoots him a quick glare.

But it's all true; Tengen and his wives have been around since before the beginning of my and Kyojuro’s relationship, training with us, going on missions, and even just hanging out together casually.

They exchange silent glances for a moment and I notice Tengen’s expression change into a more serious one.

"Y/N, Kyojuro is one of my closest friends, and it's really not my place, but... do you think maybe you decided all that just a tad too quickly?" Tengen sounds more sincere this time.

"I mean, you were on your way to becoming a Hashira yourself," Suma adds.

Taking a deep breath, I realize they're right, but I already knew that. I wasn’t the one they should be lecturing in this scenario. I never wanted to retire; I just wanted to make Kyojuro happy.

"I promise. This is a decision I've made. I want to settle down and start a family with Kyo. I wouldn’t want to risk going out on a mission and dying before having that opportunity," I assert.

Though they still seem unconvinced, Tengen puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“Kyojuro's a lucky man to have someone who cares about him so much. However, I think you should stay in tune with your training for now.”

“You are still so young, Y/N! It’s always possible that once you have children, you could potentially want to come out of retirement. Maybe be a trainer for young slayers!” Makio adds with a hopeful tone.

Suddenly, my spirits lift. They were right. Just because I retire now doesn’t mean I can’t come out of retirement in a few years. As long as I keep training at home, I should be fine!

“I suppose you are all right. I will definitely keep training. I’m sure Kyo will think that’s a great idea.”

“That’s the spirit. I’m glad we got to run into you,” Tengen says with his usual smile.

“I’m glad I got to see all of you. I promise I’ll try to make an effort to come around more.”

“That sounds perfect,” Hina exclaimed.

After we exchange our goodbyes, I watch them walk off together, smiling and talking.

A wave of realization and relief washes over me. Maybe retirement didn’t have to be as bad as I was making it out to be.

.

.

Upon finally arriving back at the estate, I walked up to the entrance with a smile on my face.

I recalled there was a book in the study that taught some solo hand-to-hand combat techniques, perfect for practicing alone. I made a mental note to pick it up once I returned and start reading it after dinner.

As I entered, Senjuro greeted me with a warm smile.

“Welcome back, Y/N. I’ll finish up dinner since you went out of your way to get everything,” he offered kindly.

“Oh, you don’t have to do all that. I don’t mind,” I replied.

“I insist. You haven’t seen my brother for a while now, and I think he could use your company,” he chuckled nervously.

I hesitated for a second.

“Okay, only if you're sure,” I said, handing over the basket of food and supplies I had bought from the market.

He headed off to the kitchen, leaving me in the entryway, so I decided to make my way to our bedroom, shared by Kyojuro and me.

As I entered, I noticed he had changed out of his uniform into his more casual attire.

He looked at me with a kind smile on his face.

“I see you made it back safely,” he said, walking over to me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

He buried his face into the side of my neck, kissing it softly.

I felt myself shiver at his touch. He seemed so gentle and loving right now. I had truly missed him so much these past few weeks.

I gently ran my fingers through his fiery hair as I spoke, "I ran into Tengen and his wives at the market."

He pulled away slightly to look at me, his arms still wrapped around my waist.

"Really? Were they happy to see you?" he asked with a big smile.

"Yes, they were. We hadn't realized it had been so long since we all saw each other."

Kyojuro appeared to be deep in thought. "I suppose you're right. It has been a while since all of us got together. I should arrange for us to have dinner sometime!" he exclaimed happily.

I couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I think that would be lovely."

"What else did you all talk about? You were gone for quite some time," he inquired.

I debated telling him about their suggestion that I should consider keeping up with training and possibly coming out of retirement, but ultimately decided against it.

"Tengen was just telling me about a mission he had gone on recently. Nothing too crazy," I replied.

Kyojuro seemed satisfied with this answer. Why would I lie? I've never had any reason to lie to him before.

"That's great, sunflower. I'm happy you finally got to see some company. You seem so happy!" he remarked, his affection evident in his tone.

We lingered in each other's embrace for a few more moments until Senjuro's voice rang out, announcing that dinner was ready.

Hand in hand, we made our way to the table. Upon arrival, we found Senjuro had already set the table and prepared everything. Surprisingly, Shinjuro was already seated, wearing his usual drunken scowl, but he remained mostly silent.

As we ate, Kyojuro attempted to share details about his recent mission with his father, but received only silence and grunts in response. Despite years of trying, it seemed Kyojuro still sought his father's approval.

It felt kind of pointless to expect anything from Shinjuro. Even though I ended up spending more time with him than with Kyojuro lately, I just kept my distance. Honestly, I think he might even appreciate it.

After a few minutes of listening to Kyojuro, Shinjuro got up and was the first to leave the table, retreating to his room.

Though Kyojuro seemed disappointed, he maintained his neutral smile as he also began to wrap up his meal.

Once we had all finished eating, I stood up to collect the dishes for washing and putting away. However, Senjuro insisted on taking care of everything himself.

Feeling a bit defeated, I abandoned the task and decided to head to the study to grab that training book.

However, upon arrival, I was met with an unsettling sight. All the books were gone, every shelf completely empty...

As I made my way back to my room, confusion swirled within me like never before.

Upon entering, I found Kyojuro already preparing for sleep. His eyes brightened at the sight of me, and he gestured for me to join him under the covers of the futon.

Crawling in beside him, he enveloped me in his arms, pulling me close. With my head against his chest, I felt a sense of comfort wash over me.

"Kyojuro," I speak up.

"What is it, little flame?" He asks planting a kiss on the top of my head.

"What happened to all the books in the study?"

I sense a slight tension in his body at the question.

"I'm not sure, my love. Perhaps father had them moved. I'll make sure to get you some new books soon," he reassures me.

I stay silent, convinced by his explanation. What other reason could there be? Surely, Kyojuro doesn't attach much importance to old books collecting dust for years.

As I lay nestled in Kyo's arms, I feel the weight of exhaustion settling in. His breathing slows, It won't be long before sleep overtakes us both.

.

.

A week had passed, and the books still hadn't reappeared. I'd given up on getting a response out of Shinjuro. And it seemed that Senjuro wasn't even aware of their disappearance, which was even stranger.

So here I was again, under the same tree, rereading the same book for the third time.

Despite this, it was a beautiful day. The sky was bright and the air was refreshing. It would have been a shame not to enjoy it.

With Kyojuro gone early this morning for a hashira meeting, it's just me now, left to ponder my thoughts. I can't help but recall what Tengen and his wives said about keeping up with training.

Honestly, with my doting husband always around, their advice slipped my mind. But now, with some time to myself, I figure it's a good opportunity to get some practice in.

I don't have the exact combat training books I'd like, but I'll make do with what I remember from my days in the core.

Grabbing a wooden sword that Kyojuro and Senjuro sometimes use.

My target? A nearby tree. I start off slow, practicing basic strikes and focusing on my footwork. It's a few hours of intense concentration, but it feels amazing. I didn't realize how much I missed this, the feeling of swinging a sword, the rush of adrenaline with each move. It's like finding a piece of myself I forgot was missing.

My excitement fades as I notice a looming shadow, revealing Kyojuro standing there. Still in his uniform, he must have just returned from the meeting. His expression is stern, arms crossed in clear disapproval.

"What are you doing, Y/N?" His voice is cold, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I was just... training a bit," I reply nervously.

"Training? Training for what?" He begins to approach me, his demeanor serious.

For some reason, I instinctively start to back up as he approaches me. Before I know it, my back is against the tree I was just practicing on.

He closes the distance between us, his face inches from mine. This side of Kyojuro is unfamiliar to me; he appears downright angry.

"Why are you doing this, sunflower? You're inactive in the core, retired. There's absolutely no reason for you to pick up a sword and train again," his voice is harsh.

"I just thought that maybe if I stayed in shape and continued training a bit, perhaps in the future I could come out of retirement. Maybe even help train new slayers coming out of final selection," I suggest.

- Ending One (Positive fluff)

He gazes at me, his expression filled with confusion. “Sunflower, why would you want that? I thought the whole point of you wanting to retire was to be at home with me, to start a family together.”

Taking a deep breath, I realize I need to be honest and ip front with him now. Kyojuro is my husband, and if he truly loves me, he'll understand.

Slowly, I reach out and take his hand, bringing it up to rest against my chest.

“Kyojuro, I love you more than anything, and I want to start a family and be with you more than anything. But I also have to pursue the things that make me happy. Fighting alongside you and our friends has always been one of those things,” I explain, hoping he'll see my perspective.

His eyes soften, and I can tell he feels guilty for not considering my happiness more deeply.

"I'm still scared, Y/N. I'm scared of losing the love of my life, my wife. If you continue being a demon slayer, there will be times when I won't be able to protect you. Times when you'll be in situations where you'll have to fight to the death to defend yourself," he admits, his voice filled with worry.

He's right. There will be moments when I'll have to risk my life for the sake of others. But that's exactly why I signed up for this. That's what I want to do, with him by my side.

Gently, I lift his hand to my lips and place a kiss on his knuckles, mirroring the affection he always shows me.

"I'll fight until my last breath for a life without demons, so that hopefully someday us and our children can live the life we deserve," I declare softly.

He removes his hand from mine placing is on my cheek. His gaze loving and caring now.

“You never cease to set my heart ablaze little flame. You always make me remember that powerful spirit I fell in love with. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for being so selfish.”

It makes me feel better that he also acknowledges how he’s been acting lately. It makes me feel more validated that I wasn’t completely going crazy. And still I forgive him.

I know Kyojuro’s heart, I know how pure and kind it is, and I know he would never do anything to harm me or keep me alway from something I’m so passionate about.

He pulls me into his embrace wrapping his arms protectively around me.

“I want you to be happy my love, it was wrong of me to try and control someone as amazing as you. I will do everything I can to support and protect you. Wether it’s here at home, or out on the battle field.”

His words melt my heart.

He removes his hand from mine, placing it gently on my cheek. His gaze softens, filled with love and care.

"You never fail to ignite my heart, little flame. You always remind me of the powerful spirit I fell in love with. I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for being so selfish," he confesses.

His acknowledgment of his recent behavior brings me some comfort. It validates my feelings and assures me that I'm not imagining things. And yet, I find it in my heart to forgive him.

I know Kyojuro's heart, its purity and kindness. I trust that he would never intentionally harm me or stand in the way of my passions.

Pulling me into his embrace, he wraps his arms protectively around me.

"I want nothing more than your happiness, my love. It was wrong of me to try to control someone as incredible as you. I'll do everything in my power to support and protect you, whether it's here at home or out on the battlefield," he promises.

This was the man I fell in love with, the man I vowed to spend my dying days with. I’m certain that I made the right decision.

.

.

.

- Ending Two (Angsty Smut)

He shakes his head. "No. No way. If you're going to stay retired, then you need to stay retired. That was the deal. I won't risk losing you. You're far too precious to me." His tone is softer now, but still firm.

"But why can't I just practice for a bit?"

"Because this isn't what you want. You don't actually want this. It's not your passion. This is only because of your past life." He's more serious than ever.

"What's so wrong with me wanting to stay sharp?"

"You're supposed to be focusing on your future and your new life with me! And you can't do that if you keep holding onto your past. It's not a part of who you are anymore."

His words strike me. Was it so bad that I wanted to practice and maybe eventually come back?

"This is the last thing we're going to discuss. As a Hashira, I have the authority to confiscate your weapon, so hand it over. From this point forward, I will not tolerate you engaging in anything remotely related to demon slaying."

I reluctantly hand over my wooden sword. My heart drops, and tears begin to well up in my eyes.

"Y/N. I'm sorry, my love, but this is for the best. It's only because I love you." His voice softens, his expression more forgiving.

I'm filled with anger. Why is he acting like this? Why doesn't he want to fight alongside me anymore? Balancing our relationship and our profession is tough, but plenty of people make it work.

Why does he seem to think it's impossible for me to fight? I am strong. I've always been strong.

His thumb brushes away a tear from my eye as I lift my head to look at him.

This time, his expression changes.

He leans in close to my ear and whispers, "If you won't listen to me, I'll just have to give you a reason to stay off your feet."

A shiver runs down my spine as his lips meet mine, his hands holding my hips firmly in place.

Before I know it, he's lifting me over his shoulder and carrying me back into the estate.

“Kyo, put me down! Let's just talk!” I protest, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

He takes me to our bedroom and pins me down on the futon.

“There’s nothing more to say, sunflower. If I can't keep you from fighting anymore, maybe having a child will,” he says, his voice tinged with desire.

I open my mouth to speak, but his lips on mine cut me off. His tongue pushes its way inside, making its way around my mouth.

I try to pull away, but his hands hold my head in place, and the taste of his mouth is overwhelming.

When he finally pulls away, I'm breathless.

He leans in, kissing and biting at my neck. His hands move down my body, grabbing and squeezing my breasts and my waist.

I let out a small whimper as he sucks and bites at my skin.

Suddenly, I feel his fingers brush against my entrance through my clothes.

He pulls away to look at me. "Already so wet for me, and we've barely done anything. Were you doing all of this to make me angry on purpose?”

My face burns with embarrassment, but I can't help but crave his touch.

He grabs my hands and pins them above my head, staring into my eyes with a mischievous smile.

"You want this, don't you, sunflower?" He asks as his free hand caresses my face.

I nod desperately, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Then beg for it," he commands, his loving voice contested his actions.

"Please, Kyo, please I need it. I need you."

He releases his grip on my wrists and moves to undo his pants.

"There’s my little flame."

He lines himself up with my entrance, slowly pushing himself inside.

I try not to tense, feeling my walls stretch to accommodate him.

He lets out a low groan, his warm breath tickling my ear.

He waits for a moment before beginning to thrust into me, each movement deeper than the last.

I gasp and moan beneath him, gripping his shoulders.

He lets out a groan as he bottoms out.

"Mine," he whispers before placing a kiss on my forehead.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

He begins to move again, thrusting harder and faster. I'm filled with so much pleasure that I'm seeing stars.

I can feel myself getting closer to the edge, but just before I can finish, he stops.

"Kyo, please, I need it." I whine.

"Not yet, my love.” he replies, his voice heavy with lust.

He pulls out of me, leaving me feeling empty and unsatisfied.

He flips me over and pushes my head into the pillow, my ass now in the air.

"Don't worry, little flame, I'm not finished with you just yet."

He enters me again, gripping my hips tightly as he pounds into me from behind.

"I can't wait to have you pregnant. You're going to look so beautiful."

He reaches a hand around to rub my clit, bringing me even closer to my peak.

I try to hold back my moans and he touches me. His words only make me feel hotter.

I can feel myself getting closer once again, and he seems to notice as well.

"Do you want to finish, my love?"

"Yes, yes please," I beg.

He increases the speed of his thrusts, hitting all the right spots inside of me.

I can feel myself approaching the edge again, and he continues to push me towards it.

"I'm going to fill you up, my love. Make you mine.”

His thrusts grow more erratic as he reaches his peak, releasing deep inside of me.

I collapse onto the futon , completely exhausted.

Kyojuro rolls off me and lays beside me, pulling me into his chest. I cuddled into him.

"We're going to be so happy, Y/N. Just you, me, and our child. Everything is going to be perfect," he reassures me, running his fingers through my hair.

I'm too tired to respond, so I just listen to the sound of his heartbeat and his breathing.

"I love you, sunflower. No matter what, you're mine.”

Sorry this one took me so long to get out, I hope you all enjoyed it! I’d love to hear your feedback!

[glorismorningstar]

IMAGINE: YOU'RE LATE TO THE VEES' HEADQUARTERS ON EXTERMINATION DAY

"Four calls," VELVETTE said as she paced around the living room, running a hand through her hair as she tried to keep herself in check. She had given you a strict schedule to adhere to for today, and the worse has happened. You're late. "Four fucking calls and she hasn't picked up. Where the fuck is she?"

"Y/N's a big girl, Velvette. She's ten minutes late, it's not the end of the world." Vox thought he was doing good, but it only made her more agitated.

She turned on her heels to face Vox, hands firmly on her hips in an attempt to calm herself. "What the actual fuck are you saying? Do you know what time it is?! We have exactly one minute before the angels get here, and I swear to God that if she's not in here by then, I'll go out there and fetch her myself!"

"Before you make any rash decisions-" he couldn't even finish the sentence before the cries of terrified sinners and demons reached their ears. Velvette jogged to the clear window and smushed her face against the glass to look for you in the midst of the chaos.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" She gritted in frustration as she felt her breath shudder and stutter, eyes desperately scouring the streets for any sign of you.

Her phone rang and she scrambled to pick up the call, relieved to read your name on the screen. "Where the fuck are you?!"

"Velvette, I'm- ah!" You yelped as you dodged an angel, running through the crowd to blend in and hide. You could see the Headquarters from where you stood. "I'm almost there!"

"Tell me where you are right now!" She demanded, her thick accented voice didn't leave any room for argument or mirth in such a situation. If something were to happen to you, she didn't know what she'd do.

"I'm in the crowd!" You spoke loudly to make sure she heard you through the phone in the middle of all the chaos.

Velvette ran over to the stairs and walked down as fast as possible, hoping to find you and drag you to safety. You could hear her yelling for Vox to find you with his cameras and her frantic stomps down God knows how many flights of stairs.

"Y/N?" She called out, standing on her tip toes to spot you.

You could see her standing behind the glass door, panicky red eyes combing through the giant hoard of sinners running for their lives. She hung up the phone and walked into the crowd, looking for you.

Your heart almost stopped beating when your eyes caught the blue, pink and white flash of her hair. It was dangerous, what the hell was she doing? "Velvette!"

You squeezed through the stampeding sinners and took hold of her hand. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You should be inside!"

"So should you!" She retorted, leading you back to the building. The way she grasped your hand like a lifeline, posture so tense and eyes wide with alarm as she pulled you to the Headquarters made you feel that she loved you more than she let on.

She tripped on a pebble and dropped to the ground, which made you instinctively shield her from the exorcists with your body. Heaven would never murder one of the Vees and you knew, but with the way the sinner were stepping over you, you couldn't have her getting hurt, especially with how her small stature made her susceptible to trampling. She had also given you clothes that she designed herself with her signature style, yet another of her favourite ways of marking you as hers, so that the angels would see you're with her.

In a moment of bravery, you picked her tiny body up in your arms and rushed towards the door of the Headquarters.

Velvette gasped as you slammed the door open and shut it tightly, pressing your back flush against the cold glass with a sigh of relief. You dropped to your knees in exhaustion and she soon follows, hands flying to cup your cheeks. "Darling, are you alright? Did they get you? Are you hurt? Are yo-"

"My love," you interrupted her rambling, resting a hand on top of hers. "I'm okay. I promise."

She sighed and pulled you into her arms, burying her face in your neck. "Don't do that ever again. You scared the shit out of me."

You press a soft kiss to the top of her head, carding your fingers through her tricolour hair. The pads of your fingers rubbed on her scalp, trying to ground her to reality. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't be late next time."

She smiled and rested her forehead on yours, then planted a kiss on your lips out of relief. She had no idea what she would have done with herself if the exorcists had gotten to you first. She pushed such thoughts away and hugged you tightly.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

[doyouknowbtsswag]

Should Have Picked Up The Phone |So-Mun|

Sorry this is short

I strolled around the neighborhood shivering at the low temperature. I was originally supposed to be on a date with my boyfriend but he never showed up. Recently he's been canceling dates or leaving me hanging like a fool. All of the pity looks thrown my way by others makes it 10x worse. My mind always makes me wonder if he wants to break up and it makes my heart shatter. I can't help but think of what I did wrong if he doesn't like me anymore. He always says it's because his grandma wandered off again which is valid. I've seen her try to leave and even helped him before but that excuse is getting old. At this point, I wouldn't mind just hanging out at his place if that's the only time I could see him. I haven't seen him in days and even then it's a brief conversation. I walked down the street to my house and saw a man with a hoodie stopped at my door. I quickly hid behind the big dumpster ignoring the awful smell.

"Hello?" I heard the man say as he knocked on my door. "You dropped your ID card so I figured you would want it back."

I scrambled through my bag and looked in my wallet to see if I had actually dropped it but seeing my ID in my bag confused me. Why would he lie about that? I decided it wasn't safe for me to be around here so I quietly and quickly ran away praying I wouldn't trip over my heels. I ran for a good 10 minutes not caring about how much pain my legs and feet were in. I hunched over both of my hands on my knees and tried to catch my breath. I looked around and saw I ended up near the park.

"Mun's house isn't far from here maybe he'll be there," I said to myself my breath still shaky.

I grabbed my phone from my purse and made my way to his house. Even if he wasn't home I would be able to lend a hand to his grandparents. I pushed his contact and let the phone ring but he didn't pick up. I called him a few more times scared and upset about everything.

"Come on pick up pick up" I continued to walk but felt like someone was watching me the whole time. This made me call him more and more. I started to speed walk getting closer and closer to his house calling and calling. I hit the call button one last time before having someone grab me from behind. I dropped my phone struggling against the person who grabbed me. The call went directly to voicemail.

"Mun, shouldn't you answer your phone?" Hana said as she walked over to him. "I think you've trained enough today."

"Who was calling?" He asked stepping away from the punching bag and wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Y/n" Hana handed him his phone.

Mun groaned as he took the phone from her hand. "I forgot we had a date tonight"

"Again?" She said.

"She'll understand"

"How would she just understand?"

"I'll just say what I usually do, something came up with my grandparents"

"Shouldn't you just find time? Or take a break for a day" Hana crossed her arms.

"Evil spirits don't take breaks" He argued. "And with everything going on right now I can't afford to fall back"

"You're not the only counter, you can take a day off," Hana said. "Your not alone"

"I'm just nervous Cheong Shin will do something while I'm taking a break," Mun said as his phone vibrated with a text message.

Alternate:

"Call her back quickly," Hana said. "The nights not fully over"

"I-fine I call her back," He said as he called you back but came back with no answer. He sighed as he texted you saying how sorry he was hoping to get a response. He raised an eyebrow confused but slowly turned into worry as he called you again.

"She isn't picking up," Mun said looking at Hana.

"Try calling her again," Hana said now concerned herself.

"Pick up pick up," Mun said as he paced back and forth. "She's not acting petty right?"

"I highly doubt it"

"It picked up!"

" Y/n? What's wrong? Y/n?" He said concerned. "Are you okay?" The panic and concern in his voice was clear.

"So you do know him" The man said but it sounded like there were two people.

"Who's this?" Mun asked unsure if his ears were deceiving him or not. He was only met with a deep chuckle from the other end of the phone.

"Your worst nightmare" The man grinned. "She might have been safe if you picked up the phone"

[stardustloserdoll]

Hii! Can u do a johnnie smut for afab. The premise is basically ur wearing something kinda revealing (e.g a short skirt + a tight top) and he starts to get flustered and stuff 🙏

hellooo!! :3

flustered

female reader

“hey.” i smiled clutching onto my purse. johnnies eyes widened when he saw my outfit. i usually dressed in baggy outfits but i wanted to dress up today just because. “hey..” he mumbled gulping as he clutched on the doors handle. he cleared his throat “come in.”

we both sat down on the couch and prepared the movie that we were going to watch. johnnie stayed quiet though, averting his gaze most of the time. “youre awfully quiet.” i laughed placing my chin on his shoulder. “everything okay?” he nodded his head keeping his gaze on my exposed thigh. “should we start the movie?” i asked leaning over to grab the remote. “yeah.”

i reached for the bowl of pretzels on the coffee table, purposefully dropping the bowl onto the floor. “oops.” i muttered, getting on the floor slowly cleaning up the mess. i looked back seeing that johnnie was staring, a faint blush on his cheeks. i smirked lifting up my skirt more for him to see my black laced underwear. “enjoying the view.” he but his lip, bringing one of his hands to his crotch. “yeah..”

i got up placing my hands on my hips. i took off my leather jacket throwing it to the side. i began walking towards johnnie, sitting in his lap, feeling his clothed erection poking me. “fuck y/n you look so hot.” he mumbled hooking his fingers on my laced tank top. “i wanna fuck you so bad.” johnnie groaned gripping my hips. i rolled my hips against him, my panties slowly getting wet the more i grinded myself onto him. “show me how much you want me johnnie.”

he quickly began unbuckling his studded belt, hastily pulling his pants and boxers down. “someone’s needy.” i laughed getting off him, taking off my shirt and panties. as i began pulling down my skirt johnnie stopped me gripping my wrist “keep it on.”

i nodded my head and took off my bra, throwing it to the side. my place back on his lap, grinding on his leaking cock. he shuddered, one of his hands gripping my hips, the other kneading my breast. “god you’re so hot. that skirt.” he groaned throwing his head back. i let out a breathy moan, attaching my lips onto his neck, sucking lightly. johnnie whined, placing both hands on my hips.

“lie back.” he mumbled pushing me off gently. i did so, watching as johnnie folded my legs against my chest. he leaned down pressing his lips on mine, in a hungry kiss. he wasted no time, slamming his cock into me quickly, making me pull away from the kiss. “j-fuck.” i whined feeling his pace get faster, as he bunched the skirt in his hands. “teasing me with that fucking skirt.” he mumbled, gripping my legs. I lets out a breathy moan, my eyes rolling back, feeling him hit every spot perfectly.

“johnnie.” i whined gripped his forearm, leaning up to kiss him. “gonna cum.” he groaned against my lips, i gasped against his lips mumbling the same. he sent a few more thrusts, until he finally came. i threw my head back catching my breath, watching as johnnie released my legs, dropping them softly. johnnie flipped onto me wrapping his arms around my waist. “you okay?” he asked looking up at me, placing a kiss on my chest. “yeah.” i smiled, lifting a hand to caresses his messy hair.

[pluto-supremacy]

YOUR VI JAIL FIC WAS SO GOOD AND THE HEADCANONS WERE SO SO ACCURATE. :'( IF POSSIBLE, CAN YOU MAKE A P2 TO HOW THEIR LIFE IS OUTSIDE OF PRISON WHEN THEY MAKE IT OUT? or an angst with caitlyn being blackmailed by the warden to only let one prisoner out? :3 said one being vi, and vi having to abandon reader?

Vi Fic: Bye Bye Bun

➼ Aaaah thank you so much! I'm so glad so many people liked the Stillwater headcanons^^ I was afraid my Vi was going to be soooo out of character. I decided to write some angst first >:) if this fic does well or I get another ask I'll also work on life after Stillwater, give you guys some fluff after this

➼ Continuation of Vi Headcanons: dating f!reader at Stillwater

➼ No beta we die like Claggor (I'm running out of people who die in the series-)

➼ Warnings: None! Bit of a longer fic for you guys today, enjoy!

GIF does not belong to me! All credits to the owner

The sound of knuckles meeting hard concrete echoed throughout the cell block, small grunts following close behind. "You know we don't get clean bandages for another two weeks Vi, your knuckles are going to get infected at this rate." you called out. Suddenly the pounding stopped and a small chuckle was heard. "Don't worry about me bun, just trying to blow off some steam," she said, pacing around her cell instead of beating up a wall. "You should really get some sleep. Long day tomorrow"

"No such thing as a short day here." you groaned. Carefully you laid down on the ground of the cell. Vi's was only a few doors down, close enough to talk just above a whisper but way too far away to see each other. Both of you always slept against the walls that faced each other. It was the closest thing to sleeping next to each other in this shithole. Aside from whenever you two napped during free time of course. Even then Vi stayed wide awake to ensure you were okay.

"Goodnight Vi, wake me up if anything happens, okay?" "I will Y/N, I promise"

That was nearly two hours ago. You were sound asleep by now, the cold, hard floor no longer keeping you up. It was something every prisoner in Stillwater had to get used to. Mattresses weren't provided. The few that did get a thin mat to sleep on at night only got one after a lot of medical visits and several notes stating they needed one for medical reasons. You and Vi weren't so lucky to have any notes. Still, there were worse things here. Like the food. That's why any food or snacks that were smuggled in were high value items. Currently you had a packet of chips hidden under a loose brick right where you slept. You scored them a few days ago and wanted to surprise Vi by sharing them tomorrow.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened, the clack of heels filling the halls. Caitlyn stopped in front of Vi's sell, her hood still up. "What the hell do you want?" Vi asked, glancing over at the taller woman. "Your help. You beat up an inmate, I needed to question him about a crime scene from yesterday. Why did you break his jaw?" "Because I wanted to." She responded with a small shrug, disinterested in whoever this enforcer was. "Why are you in here?" Caitlyn tried again, looking over the file in her hands. "For my sunny personality." Vi shot back immediately.

Caitlyn shook her head, sighing. "This was a waste of time." she closed the file and her journal, starting to walk off. Maybe she could find away around a broken jaw, pen and paper perhaps. "Couldn't have said it better myself. Give Silco a kiss for me on that winning eye of his." that was what caught the enforcer's attention. Turning around she walked back to Vi's cell, getting a bit closer to the bars. "Silco? The industrialist?" "Hardly what I'd call an industrialist." She scoffed, leaning against the bars. That's when the other woman held up something that caught her eye.

In Caitlyn's journal was a picture of a spray-painted monkey. Just like the ones Powder used to make. "Where did you get this?" Vi asked, desperation creeping into her voice. "My question first. The inmate worked for Silco?" "Everyone in here does. You of all people should know that. Now where did you find that?" "It was at the crime scene, this is evidence" Caitlyn responded. She had the upper hand here now. "If I'm to believe you about Silco, I'm going to need proof."

A way out. Vi could get both of you out of here. "I can provide you proof. Just, not from in here" she gestured to the bars around her. "And," she began to add on "I need another inmate. Inmate 381. I'm not leaving without her." Caitlyn seemed to consider this for a moment. Then she turn and left without a word. What that meant, Vi had no clue.

Caitlyn had ran off back to the warden, forging papers along the way for the release of two inmates. She needed Vi's help to track whoever this person was down, so if someone else had to come along, so be it. As she put the papers down on the warden's desk, he seemed to lazily look over them. "I have orders to release inmates 381 and 516." she spoke up. He hummed in thought before shaking his head. "I can only release one." "What? It says right there-" "I can read. But I'm only releasing one. Pick." "..inmate 516."

So when Caitlyn returned and opened Vi's cell, she immediately ran to your cell. Or at least tried to. The enforcer stopped her a few steps in. "The warden only let me release one of you. You understand that-" "No I don't! This wasn't part of the deal!" Vi went to grab the collar of Caitlyn's dress, the other wrapping her hands around Vi's wrists as she was pressed against the wall. "You will-" "If you try anything I will make sure you're put back behind bars and you never see that other inmate again." Cait rushed out. It wasn't what she wanted to resort to, threats, but it seemed to work.

Almost instantly Vi's grip loosened, slowly setting Caitlyn back down on the ground. Leaving you...

"Once we're done, you let her out. Immediately. No excuses, exceptions, or delays. And I get to say goodbye." Vi demanded. That was fair, anyone could agree to that. Thankfully Caitlyn began nodding, dusting her dress off. "Go ahead then. Afterwards we need to get going to the Undercity."

This was going to hurt.

Vi walked over to your cell, kneeling down at the bars. You were still all curled up, dead asleep. She gently knocked on the bars. "Bun..bun you gotta wake up." That was odd. Vi's voice sounded so close...as you opened up your eyes you saw your girlfriend just on the other side of the bars. There was no quicker way to wake up than seeing your lover free from her cell. "Vi! You escaped! How-" you were cut off by seeing Caitlyn standing behind Vi.

"Who is that?" "Y/N, I can explain." "Vi, who is that!" you were shouting now. You didn't even fully realize it. "She's the one that got me out-" "So now you're going to get me out?" you interrupted. Seeing the pain flash on Vi's face told you everything that you needed to know. "You're leaving me.." your voice was barely audible, but Vi caught every word. She could feel her heart shattering as she saw the tears form in your eyes. "It's only for a little bit. The warden wouldn't let us both out, once I'm done helping Caitlyn we're coming right back for you, I promise."

You wanted to believe her. Vi had never lied to you before, why would she start now? Maybe it was the fear of never seeing her again. Or maybe it had to do with the enforcer standing behind her. Caitlyn was beautiful, you had to admit, so what if...

"No, no this isn't right. Vi you can't leave me here!" you shouted, crawling up to the bars and reaching out to grab Vi's wrist. "Vi you can't leave me! Please don't leave me!" the tears finally began rolling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away. Vi's own eyes were starting to gloss over with tears. "I'm coming back for you, Y/N. I swear on my life I'm not leaving you. It'll be a few days tops." "What does she," you nodded your head towards Caitlyn "even need help with, huh? What are you going to do for her?"

That cut deep. Vi tried not to take it to heart as she stood up, pressing one last kiss to the back of your hand. "I'm coming back for you." she repeated, steeling herself to actually leave. To not fall to her knees and tell Caitlyn to find someone else. This was your guy's chance of freedom. Even if this hurt you now, it was better in the long run. Everything would be better when you two could be together outside of Stillwater. "Bye bye, bun. I'll be back for you" and with that she turned around and started walking away. Vi knew if she turned around to look at you one last time, she'd never leave.

That's when the shouting started.

"Vi! Vi turn around right now! You can't leave me here!" you were standing up now, having an iron grip on the bars. Almost trying to bend them out of the way so you could run to Vi. Unfortunately you weren't that strong and the bars weren't that weak. "Violet don't leave me!"

Vi quickened her pace, rushing towards the elevator. Your voice was starting to blend with Powder's the day they were separated. It was all too much. She was going to find Powder and come back for you. Everything would be okay, everything would be right. As the elevator doors closed, she heard one last thing. Yours and Powder's voice were nearly indistinguishable from one another as you yelled out:

"TRAITOR!"

[misspelledwordswizard]

Chapter 21 - I have never cried so much in my two lives as I do today

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I wiped the tears that rolled down my cheeks, trying incessantly to calm myself, taking several deep breaths so I could speak. I want so much to be able to tell him everything, to all of them. I want to get rid of this weight, but I don’t have the courage to do so, but I know I can’t keep everything to myself.

— I... I’ve been having nightmares. – That was the way I decided to start, at least I should tell that part, after all, it involved them directly. – with the shadow. It started the night I first saw him, and I have reason to believe he’s behind it.

As I spoke, Time remained quiet, understanding, letting me talk at my own pace while rubbing circles on my back in na attempt to calm me down further. My voice was weak and tearful, shameful, I must sound pathetic right now.

— He doesn’t exactly appear in the dream, but it’s always something dark. The second time it happened was when I passed out, but it didn’t seem like a nightmare, until tonight, when I discovered that it was all created by that thing. – I continued, considering how much I could tell him. – He made me dream about my family, to the point of making me think that meeting you had been nothing more than a dream. I think he wanted to trap me in that.

My voice weakened at the thought of it, thinking that that thing used people I love for such a vile reason filled me with anguish. I need to be more honest with him.

— So, that night I had another nightmare. He talked to me, he kept talking about how I shouldn’t be with you guys and... – I took a deep breath – that you would leave me, hate me when you found out the truth.

— The truth about what? – Time asked, his tone seemed intimidating when I knew that the answer to this question could upset him, anger him or even hurt him.

— He threatened to tell my secret, a secret that if you guys found out you would hate me. I’m so sorry, Time, I’m so sorry! I never wanted to keep any secret, I never imagined something like this could happen. – My crying intensified, and I struggled to control the sobs that were hampering my speech. – At first I didn’t know who you guys were, I didn’t trust you completely, I was just a stranger and you would think I was crazy if I said that kind of thing! And as time went by it became even more difficult.

— Calm down, it’s okay. Whatever it is, I will understand, you don’t need to be afraid, we won’t leave you. In these last few days, you’ve managed to become more than just someone we need to protect, my dear. You’ve become part of this group, and we won’t leave you no matter what happens. Whatever it is, we’ll help you get through it.

The Old Man’s words were comforting, even though I still had my doubts about how far he would go to keep this. I don’t know if I’m ready, but I know they need to know, if I keep this to myself any longer, even when Time was so supportive, it would be a reason for them to not trust me, one more reason for them to hate me in the end.

— I want to tell you. I really want to, I need to too, if I find out through the shadows it could be much worse. I don’t know if I can, or you won’t believe me, or you’ll hate me, and both options are bad. – I tried to prepare him before everything, maybe if he knew how bad what I was going to say would be the impact would be better. – But first, there’s a problem. I don’t think I’m in my right mind, I can’t sleep.

— Well, I could tell that, why? Was it because of the threats?

— Yes, but it’s worse. There are not only empty threats in the dreams that await me, if I sleep and he makes me have nightmares again, I might never wake up. Last night, he did something with the dream that made me hurt my ribs... – I said, then I moved to lift my tunic until the purple on my skin was visible. – And today I came across this, in the same place, and there’s no way I could have done it outside of this nightmare.

I tried to read the hero’s expression as I made my point, I couldn’t tell if he believed it or not. But I wouldn’t judge him if he didn’t believe it, it was hard for me to do so. I definitely didn’t expect Time’s normally serious gaze to turn into a melancholic look full of regret, seeing it in his eyes made my heart clench, I felt guilty.

— I’m sorry. – He said, his voice low and weak, and that was definitely not what I expected to hear. Before I could question, the large man beside me pulled me into a warm hug on his lap, squeezing me firmly, but gently so as not to hurt me. – It’s my fault, I should have paid more attention. Your safety is my responsibility, and I relaxed when I thought I would be safe around here. I should have considered all the possibilities, I should have been more cautious, I should have noticed the signs to prevent things from getting that far.

His hug was warm, his warm body against mine was comforting, I had to hold back the emotional tears that filled my eyes. Time was without his armor, which was good, because I don’t think hugging him with that serious thing is that comfortable. I don’t know what made him think he was somehow to blame for all this, but it wasn’t true.

— Please don’t blame yourself. I’m the only one to blame for having kept all this from you for so long. Link, I want to tell you the truth, all of it, and I ask that you please listen to everything before you jump to conclusions. And also, I don’t know if I can do the same for others, but I’ll understand if you think I should, because it’s true. – He shook his head, trying to contradict my pessimistic assumptions, but I just wanted to get this weight off my shoulders. – I had a life before this.

If he found that last sentence strange, he didn’t show it, but he was definitely contemplative. Of course, that alone wouldn’t be enough for him to jump to his own conclusions, but it might be enough for him to think I’m delusional.

— I mean, literally, a past life that I remember clearly. I died and was reincarnated here, in this life, with all the memories, even those of my last moments. That in itself seems crazy, or not so much if you stop to think that you have also been reincarnated, even if you don’t have the memories, you can literally know your past life, I mean. – I interrupted myself, seeing that I was getting away from the focus. – The problem is that in my past life I was from another world. Or rather, another reality, probably. A very different one from here, different countries, kingdoms, culture, technology, races. A place where there is no magic or monsters, where the only rational race is the human being. With round ears, different from the Hylians. Oh, and the goddess Hylia herself or any other deity from here doesn’t exist there either.

I observed his expressions, waiting for any sign that would make me give up. But there was nothing, he seemed to be accepting all of this well, he just waited for me to continue until I got to the point of it all, the secret that I was so afraid to reveal. When he realized that I wasn’t continuing, he decided to say something to calm me down.

— I don’t think that’s crazy, if you want to know. For someone who has traveled through time several times, divided the timeline into three, is the reincarnation of a hero’s spirit and fought the demon king himself, a different reality isn’t that absurd. – He said, trying to comfort me and making me laugh softly in a tearful voice.

— That’s not the big problem, yet. – I sighed, mentally preparing myself for this, and continued. – In my old life, the world was full of technology, after all, we didn’t have any magic to help us. Among these technologies, there was something called video games, games, made to entertain people, telling stories, giving challenges, it was a type of thing that we saw on a screen like the one on the Sheikah slate in Wild and controlled characters with controllers, for fun. And for everyone that’s what it was, games, just that, just stories invented to entertain us.

It was clear he didn’t understand the point of it all, but he remained silent as I continued to explain, trying as best I could to make it all make some sense to him.

— I played several of these games, I loved them, but my favorites were a series of games with a particular story, one that seemed to be complete among them, even though it was possible to play them separately. These games told your story, Link. Yours and the others. Each of you had at least one game of your own, which I played and got to know all of your heroic adventures, from your point of view, I learned things, secrets, that you never told anyone. Not just me, but thousands of other people too. – I stopped, feeling my breathing become nervously uneven. I sighed and continued, not daring to look him in the eyes. – I didn’t know, I had no idea that it was all real. That was so common to me, so everyday, as common as reading a book around here. I didn’t know that everything was real, I didn’t know that you existed, I had no idea who was invading your space, and I definitely didn’t imagine that one day I would meet you! Me- I’m sorry, I acted like they were strangers to me when I knew so many things I shouldn’t have. I acted like I didn’t understand what was happening when I experienced everything from the comfort of my home. It took me a few years to understand everything and come to terms with it when I reincarnated, that everything I played was a fact, and when I did I felt bad about it, but I didn’t think it would go any further. I never thought I would meet them, much less that they would end up becoming such important people to me, to whom I would end up lying like a traitor!

I was already in a state of aesthetic crying again, the hero’s grip tightened around me, bringing me even closer to his body, letting me cry into his chest while rubbing my back in comfort. Even after that, even after I told him all these things, he was still worried about me, about how I was feeling. He should be furious, for being seen as just a story, for being a game, for not telling him. But no, he didn’t show any of that, at least not now.

— Hey, look at me. – His voice was soft as he gently held my chin and lifted it so I could look him in the eyes, but I looked away, unable to bear the weight of the guilt. He just wiped away the tears that were running down his face. – It’s okay, I believe you. I really do. And I’m not mad.

— You’re not? – I couldn’t be more perplexed.

— Of course not, dear. You’re not to blame for anything in this story. It would be the same as blaming someone for reading a book, wouldn’t it? To you, we were just characters like so many others, just like the ones in books I’ve read, and who’s to say they’re not real too? Maybe they’re in another reality, if this happened to you it can happen to anyone, and that doesn’t make you a bad person. – His words hit me like a wave of relief and doubt at the same time, making me cry horribly more, but this time, my crying was much more associated with how relieved I was by this reaction coming from him.

— But I kept this secret, shouldn’t you be mad at me for it? – Of course I didn’t want him to be, but I had to be sure.

— No, I understand you, in your situation I might never tell anyone. You were brave and selfless, you had your home destroyed, you were forced to join us, knowing full well what our enemy is capable of. You didn’t use any of your knowledge against us and you were always empathetic. That in itself shows what a good person you are. – Even with those words that warmed my heart, I still felt guilty. – You made the best choice, I don’t think it would have been wise to tell you this when we first met, and it’s totally fair that you were afraid. Please, don’t blame yourself.

— Link, I’m so sorry... – His look was enough to make me stop with that sentence, I was blaming myself again. – But I want you to know that you are all very special to me, and that was the reason I avoided telling you the truth so much. I don’t know what I would do if they hated me, but I couldn’t blame them. But I don’t know if I’m ready to tell others either.

— I understand, you don’t have to, not now. I also think it’s better to wait, we have other things to deal with now. I don’t think they’ll react badly, but it’s a lot to process, and right now I’d prefer for them to focus on the mission. – He ran his hand through my hair as he spoke, trying to calm the rest of the crying that was still left. – Don’t worry about them getting upset about keeping this to yourself either, I’ll tell them it was my idea.

That was good enough for me, I was able to calm down and think better about it all. In the end, I think I should thank that shadow for something, if it weren’t for his threat maybe I would have taken much longer to reveal this and things could have been much worse. I’m grateful to have Time’s support now, a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I wouldn’t be able to show him my gratitude with words, but maybe with actions it will become easier. I grabbed the big man in a tight hug. It was a little difficult, he was quite big to hug, but man, what a good hug. He wrapped his arms around my back, returning the hug warmly.

— Thank you, really. I don’t know what I would do without you. – My voice was muffled because my face was against his body.

— It’s okay, honey, I’m here, and I’ll make sure that shadow doesn’t hurt you, ever again. – I felt his grip tighten, protectively. – So, you’re technically older mentally than physically, right?

— Hm? Oh, well, yes, I must be twice as old mentally. Why?

— Nothing, I was just curious, but that kind of makes sense. – He said, laughing softly. – Now, you should sleep.

— Oh, I’m exhausted. I don’t know how I’m saying it yet. But I can’t...

— Yes, you can, don’t worry about it, I’ll stay here with you, I won’t let anything happen, and I’ll wake you up if you have another nightmare. – He said, pushing me away so he could look me in the eyes.

— What? But then you won’t get any rest! – I complained, I’m not willing to rest at the expense of others.

— It’s okay, seriously. I’m used to it, and I can sleep in the morning, it’s good to enjoy it while we’re still in Skyloft.

I sighed, too tired to argue with this. The empathetic part of my brain said it wasn’t right, but everything else was begging for a long nap. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all, at least I was willing to give it a try. Before I could agree, Time picked me up with impressive ease and stood up, able to put me down on the bed properly for the night.

— Hey, what’s up? It wasn’t necessary.

— Yeah, it wasn’t necessary, but I wanted to.

Sometimes this grown man could be very childish when he wanted to be. I like that. He laid me down on the bed and covered me with the blanket, pulling the armchair in the room closer so he could stay there during the night. He kept only a flickering light from the lamp on, so he could continue reading a book and avoid accidentally falling asleep. Then he finally approached me, placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

— Good night, my dear, have sweet dreams and rest. I’m here for you.

With that, it didn’t take long for me to lose consciousness and fall into the dream world I had been waiting for, dreaming, for some reason, of muscular blonds who carry me in their arms wherever I want to go.

[allied-mastercuntputer]

unexpected.

after your planned date with tim takes an unexpected turn, you show him just how full of surprises you are…

word count: <500

warnings: not proof read…i kinda raw dogged this :p no use of y/n

notes: omg first thing of writing on here…im an autobiographical writer, haven’t touched fanfic since i was like 10. with that being said if i proof read it i won’t have the guts to post it. there will be better writing on my blog i promise. also super late for valentine’s day but it rained when i love the day of and no other day of the week n i thought it was funny.

“You told me you checked the weather Tim.”

You had called your boyfriend to let him know that a picnic wasn’t going to work. As soon as you woke up, the noise of rain pattered on your apartment’s roof, hitting you with the reality that being outside wasn’t an option.

“I did! Today is the first time this month it’s rained! But uhhhh should we do the Mary’s?” He tried to remedy the situation with the Italian restaurant in your university neighborhood.

“We go there all the time, can we do something special since it’s Valentine’s Day baby?” You smiled into the phone receiver. You knew he melted into man pudding when you called him baby and used that tone.

“Oh uhh-“ evidence of your work, “Anything you want. Maybe the rink and then hot chocolate after?”

“It’s a date.” You smiled, perfect time to show Tim what he didn’t know about you on the ice.

❅ ❅ ❅

Tim came to pick you up, you made sure to put on a raincoat. Not only to protect yourself from getting soaked, but also to reveal your outfit to your boyfriend in the car.

“Oh look at you, expecting to get some laps in?” He joked at the expense of your lululemon attire

“I like my pink define jacket, thank you very much”

“Hey! I like it too, definitely…tight. Hugs the right pla-“ You slap him on the shoulder, “Ow! Do you even know how to skate babe?”

This was your moment. Should you lie and wow him? Or should you tell the truth and loose your novelty? You lie.

“No actually, you’ll have to teach me.”

“That’s great actually, then you can’t let go of me-“ he smiled like an idiot before you interrupted him

“Don’t push it”

“Yes ma’am”

❅ ❅ ❅

You try not to be suspicious. ‘Act like you’re nervous, get shaky the first few minutes-‘

“Hey babe, need help with your skates?” Tim is an angel. As much as he likes to talk dirty, he genuinely cares and you always know it.

“Oh uhm, yes please”

“No problem.” he got on his knees and laced your skates up, “They need to be super tight, but not so tight you can’t bend your knees beyond a certain point.” Nobody could wipe the smile he had off his face. He was just happy to be teaching his girlfriend how to skate on Valentine’s Day.

“Thank you Tim. I feel like Cinderella, only my shoe has a sharp blade on it and my prince charming doesn’t know how to check the weather.” You giggle at his expense

“Im sure I’m a much better prince charming than whatever that guy had going on. Now stand up and see if it’s comfortable.”

“Perfect! Oh! I mean uhhh-“ You can’t let the jig be up, “Ouch super tight but I’ll be okay!”

Tim looks at you funny, but thought nothing if it, “Alright let’s go.”

❅ ❅ ❅

You can’t even stand it. You’ve been pretending to be awful at skating for almost 30 minutes. The real truth? You were on a figure skating scholarship just like how Tim was on a hockey one. You’d been skating since middle school and it had become a sport you loved deeply. You and Tim had been together for eight months, but the topic never really came up due to you thinking there were far more important things to your character.

“Can I try by myself?” your posture was awful, but it as about to be perfect in about 5 seconds

“Remember what I taught you about falling on your butt and not your face?”

It took so much not to roll your eyes, “Ill try not to fall because you like both of those things about me. think I’m okay.”

“Great! Let’s see you do 5 feet ahead. Go at any pace you want.”

You nodded, kissing him on the cheek. You immediately shifted into better posture, stopped shaking , and started skating at the pace you wanted, like he said. You begin with fluid crossovers, transitioning into quick footwork. With a push, you launch into a simple jump, landing with precision. You could feel the air whipping past your face as you gained speed. Your body twists and turns effortlessly, soon you’re skating circles around your boyfriend, who couldn’t do anything but look at you in shock. You stop right next to him.

“Was that okay?”

“Was that okay?? What are you doing studying here! People get injured all the time at the olympics I’m sure you could fill in and it would make no difference” He laughed in complete shock, “How long have you been skating for?

“More than 10 years”

“We should definitely take this to my place. You’ve won my heart. Not that you didn’t before I just- let’s go babe.”

“No I’m actually having so much fun!”

[zombisarchive]

HATE ☆

mdni. long fic. not proof read.

dom! felix catton x sub! f! reader

warnings: slight angst, smut, p in v, degradation, slight biting, slight hair pulling, sub & dom, pet names, slight begging, slight praising, hate fucking, anxious reader

Felix had been upset with me all day. Do I know what I did? no. Over and over again I’ve asked what’s wrong, what did I do, and over and over again I’ve been met with the same reply, “You know what you did.” Call me over dramatic but the way he’s been acting has been eating me alive. What had I done? As the day came to an end, I contemplated on if I should spend the night in his dorm. I paced my dorm room for what felt like hours, my roommate completely tired of me, “what are you doing?” her words snapped me out of my pacing, “Felix is upset with me, and I don’t know what’s I’ve done” She rolled her eyes at me, she hated when I spoke about Felix, mainly because she use to be his old fling, but now that he’s seriously in a relationship with me, she can’t come around to it yet. “It’s serious, Maddie! He won’t even tell me what i’ve done wrong!” And exasperated sigh left my mouth, I felt like i was going crazy. It has been practically a full day and he made no effort in telling me what I’ve actually done to upset him. “Your boy troubles aren’t my problem” Maddie said as she turned her back to me.

Of course she was no help. I decided to take matters into my own hands, I left the dorm room, marching myself to his. Knocking rapidly on his door, he opened the door, assuming I’d be greeted differently he greeted me with a struggle face, “what?” He was still upset at me! “We need to talk..” I said as I fiddled with my fingers, he stepped aside letting me inside the dorm, closing the door behind me. “Go on, speak.” Felix said sternly, if he wasn’t driving me absolutely insane right now, I would have melted at his feet. “What’s been with you today? You’re acting cold, and you’re clearly upset with me! Yet you won’t even tell me what I’ve done!” He rolled his eyes at me, “you seriously aren’t going to own up to it? that’s so pathetically low of you!” Felix’s voice was raises, this took me by surprise. I stood there shocked not saying a word as he continued “Yesterday at that party Far took us to? hm? You were practically throwing yourself to some random man!” My jaw dropped “What?! when the hell did i do that?” “Oh my god stop lying! jesus christ, I can’t your such a slut, just throwing yourself at any man” Felix was fuming at this point, I could see that his ears were turning red, meanwhile I felt like my heart was about to come out of my mouth, did he really think that lowly of me? “your joking right?” Felix let out a frustrated sigh, “I don’t know if you were too drunk to remember but I clearly remember you throwing yourself at a man” “you’re crazy, I’d never do that! drunk or not!” Truth be told, I was completely wasted, I don’t remember much of that night, other than coming back to Felix’s dorm. “Jesus Christ..” He ran his fingers through his hair stressed out. “I don’t remember much of anything from that night Felix, how am I supposed to remember this? I’m sorry if i did that but you cannot blame me for a drunken act!”

Another frustrated sigh came out of his mouth, then silence, “if your so sorry, beg on your knees for forgiveness.” My jaw dropped a little, as I stared at him, he was completely serious. “okay fine..” Getting down on my knees, I looked up at him, “please forgive me..i’m sorry i flirted with another man..please Felix” A smirk spread across his face, that little shit, he was never really upset, was he? “see, that wasn’t so hard was it baby?..acting like a dumb slut when drunk, can’t believe it” His words shooting straight to my core, I felt hot and bothered. His large hand went straight to my hair tugging at it, my head jerked back as I looked at him more clearly. “your going to be a good girl and get on the bed for, aren’t you?” I nodded my head quickly, feeling him let go of my hair, I scrambled to his small bed. He slowly crawled his way onto the bed, pushing me down, my breath hitched. I felt powerless under his intense gaze. Felix’s hands ran up my thighs, as they stopped at my waist band, pulling my bottoms off roughly, he pushed my legs apart kissing up my thighs, biting at him. A whimper left my lips as he bit down on my thighs hard, “Felix..” I moaned out, as I watched him sit up undoing his belt. “shut up, you’ve pissed me off enough today” Felix said in a husky tone, his fingers run up my slit, sending shivers down my body. I felt his thick long fingers shove their way inside me, pumping inside me, moaning out loudly not caring if anyone heard, calling out for him “Felix!..baby please” whimpers and moans left my mouth, as he continued to fuck me with his fingers, before abruptly pulling them out.

A whine left my lips again, watching him was he pulled out his erect cock, pumping himself in his hand. “You’re going to take it all tonight..raw” I gulped as his words, nodding at them in agreement. “been such a stupid slut haven’t you? whoring yourself out” Felix said as he aligned himself up with me, pushing his cock deep inside me, he groaned as I moaned out, “fuck! Felix!..” I felt him slowly thrust inside me, god did it feel amazing. “gonna teach you a lesson..” He muttered out as he took hold of my hips gripping them tightly, his pace quickens as he thrusts hard. Groaning out for me, I reached out to hold him only to be met with him slapping my hands down, “don’t. you don’t deserve it after slutting around” “I’m sorry!..” I stuttered out over and over, he could tell i’m clearly cock drunk. Being manhandled by him was euphoric. I knew he wasn’t going to let me cum, after all I didn’t deserve it. His pace slightly slowed as his thrusts became stuttered, he was close and I could tell. I clenched myself around his cock, he let out a loud moan, “fuck!” He yelled out, “keep clenching around me like that..fucking hell..” biting my lip I did as I was told, I felt myself moving my hips upward to his thrusts, his nails digging into my skin as he fucked me roughly. Felix let out another groan as I felt him shoot his cum deep inside me. “Felix!” I moaned out feeling him cum inside me, his thrusts slow long down, and coming to a stop completely. He stayed inside me, panting and breathing heavily as he came down from his high.

Felix slowly pulled himself out of me, his hands roaming up to my my body, touching me all over. “you know I don’t mean those words right, Love?” His tone much softer compared to earlier, I nodded as I caught my breath “i know baby” “you were so good for me tonight..” He gave me a stupid smile, as he leaned down kissing up my stomach maintaining eye-contact with me. “How about I let you cum this time?” He said with a stupid grin, I rolled my eyes playfully at him “finally.” “shut up” Felix said with an eye roll.

☆requests open!

☆this was kinda bad. it’s my first time trying to write proper fanfics, w/ smut.