#inhaling a bagel and going to bed

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 65

Geralt and Jaskier attend a flower festival at a village. Geralt notices that everyone is giving each other flower bouquets, wreaths, and crowns, so Geralt decides to make a gift for Jaskier. The festival has buttercups, but not dandelions, so he has to pick some himself, add in a few cornflowers because they reminded him of Jaskier's eyes, and bam! It's done! He gifts it to Jaskier, and Jaskier is very touched, thanking Geralt profusely, and giving him a kiss. Jaskier meanwhile, is just absolutely flabbergasted that Geralt gave him courting flowers! It's a dream come true!

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 2 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, difficulty conceiving, mention of pregnancy symptoms, lots of Eddie being a mush

WC: 1.5k

February 1999

You didn’t get pregnant that first month. Your period arrived unceremoniously, leaving in its wake blood-stained underpants and disappointment.

It didn’t happen in December or January, either, despite meticulous cycle tracking and Eddie barely keeping his hands off of you. Each negative test feels like a failure; you’ve stopped taking them when Eddie’s around because you can sense his disappointment, though he puts on a brave face to comfort you.

But now, you’re late. Only by two days–if you weren’t paying careful attention to the dates, you might not have noticed. You have to bite back a smile as you tear open the box, fingers trembling as you poorly contain your excitement. It might be nothing, just a period ironically delayed by stress of trying to conceive.

Or you might be pregnant.

You inhale, filling your lungs with air and holding it there for a while until you let it out in one strong breath. All you’re doing is peeing on a stick, but your body nervously buzzes with each passing second. You’ve likely taken a dozen of these by now, and there’s nothing that should make you think you’ll get a different result today.

With utmost care, you place the used test on the back of the sink and wash your hands. You keep pressing on the soap handle to the point where a small pool forms in your palm, but you can’t draw your gaze from the tiny result window. The control line begins forming quickly, as it always does. 

How long ago did Eddie leave to grab breakfast—maybe ten minutes? Sundays at Zeke’s Bagels are usually swamped, so you have plenty of time to wipe away your tears if that sacred second line never appears. 

“Mommy?”

A drowsy voice interrupts your inner monologue. Harris stands at the bathroom doorway, wiping the sleep from his big brown eyes and yawning. 

“What’s up, Har?” You hope your anxiety doesn’t bleed through, though you doubt he’s awake enough to recognize it. 

He squints as he adjusts to the light. “Where’s Daddy? Also, I’m hungry.”

A sigh of relief escapes you when you realize he’s too focused on breakfast to pay attention to anything else. “Daddy left to get us some bagels,” you explain, allowing your heart to slow to a normal rate. “Why don’t you go make your bed, and we can watch some cartoons while we wait for him, okay?”

Harris nods, barely picking up his sock-clad feet as he trudges back towards his bedroom. You giggle at the way he tries to fight his sleepiness, shaking your head in amusement. 

That’s when you see it, faint but still definitely present: the tell-tale second pink line.

“Oh my God.” Your hand flies to your mouth in complete shock, tears forming a film over your eyes so the results become blurred. You blink them away to get a better look, partially convinced that you’re hallucinating or projecting your hopes, and that reality will set in and show a negative result.

But when your vision clears, both lines are still visible.

You’re pregnant.

Now you just have to tell your husband; the question is, how?

You’re still mulling over the possibilities when the key clicks in the door ten minutes later. Eddie carries in a brown paper bag of bagels, whistling a tune that startles you from your thoughts. 

“Food’s here!” Eddie calls out; your stomach flip-flops at the sound of his voice. The temptation to let giddiness take over and wave the test in his face is strong, but you hold yourself back. First and foremost, you don’t want Harris knowing until you’re safely in the second trimester, but another part of you is still in denial that you truly are pregnant. That there’s a tiny little life growing within your womb, half you and half Eddie.

I’ll test again in a few days, you tell yourself, and if it’s still positive, then I’ll tell him.

You shove the test in the top drawer among your make-up and hair care products where it will be safe from your husband’s wandering eyes. Before you shut off the light, you get a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. You look the same as you always do, but there’s no denying that you feel different.

Pregnant. You’re pregnant with Eddie’s baby. In approximately nine months, the Munsons will be a family of four.

“Mommy! Daddy’s home!”

“Coming!” You wipe away any remaining tears and make your way to the kitchen, trying to quell the excitement of knowing that you’re technically eating for two.

Breakfast drags a bit, both because of the weighty secret you’re guarding and the fact that cream cheese apparently now makes your nose wrinkle in disgust, but Harris’s animated storytelling makes the time pass a bit faster. Apparently, being seven years old is more dramatic than you’d remembered.

One particular story involving Harris, Joshua Harrington, and a celery-stick sword fight remains etched into your brain even as you brush bagel crumbs off of the table and into your cupped palm. Harris has plunked down in front of the television, gaze glued to a show about a conjoined cat and dog with screeches so grating that you find yourself wincing with each piece of dialogue. The distraction is enough to keep you from tuning into Eddie rummaging through the bathroom drawers, searching for the nail clippers.

“Um, babe?” His voice cracks on the second word, and you can sense both confusion and concern in his tone. “C-Can you come here? Now?”

Oh, shit. 

You dash into the bathroom, shrinking into yourself when you find him, one hand bracing his body weight on the sink and the other clutching a very positive pregnancy test. 

“Are…is this…” He turns to you, wide-eyed, lower lip quivering. “When…?”

“Right before breakfast,” you jump in, your pinky finger nudging his along the sink’s edge. “I wanted to do something special to surprise you after I took another one later this week, y’know, just to be sure.”

Eddie exhales a breath that’s half-laugh and half-cry, lowering the test to the ceramic ledge so he can place both hands on your cheeks. “You’re pregnant?” he asks, words thick with disbelief. He chuckles when you nod, head moving up and down between his calloused palms. “Holy shit; you’re having my baby.”

His mouth finds yours in an instant, fingers leaving your face and traveling to your waist. Eddie pulls you in close and punctuates the long kiss with several little pecks. 

“My gorgeous girl is having my baby,” Eddie murmurs, gently sinking to his knees so he’s eye-level with your stomach. It’s still far too early to be showing, but he still bunches up your shirt just above your belly button. You giggle when he presses his lips against your skin, an involuntary ticklish reaction. “I just…I’m so happy. I got kinda worried when it wasn’t happening, that something was wrong.” He looks up at you with an expression of relief and awe. “We’re having a baby, Sweetheart.” His thumb trails along your exposed flesh, the place where your child will develop over the next nine months.

You laugh, pulling him up so you can kiss him again. He tastes like the orange juice he’d drank with breakfast, sweet and tangy. “We should wait to tell people until a doctor confirms it,” you murmur as he rests his forehead on yours. “Let it just be our little secret for now, okay?”

Eddie nods, lips occupied with kisses that render him unable to speak for a minute. “I’m glad I found out when I did, to be honest,” he admits with a small smile. “I missed so much of this with Harris, and I wanna be part of everything with this little munchkin.” 

“Everything?” you ask suspiciously. “The morning sickness, the mood swings, the swollen feet? I’m pretty sure my mom got hemorrhoids when she was pregnant with me–”

“Everything,” Eddie affirms, lacing his fingers with yours. “The good, the bad, and the…hemorrhoid-y.”

You can’t hold back your amusement, throwing your head back with laughter. “I’m holding you to that.”

But you know you won’t need to, because this is Eddie, and the love he already has for this child radiates off of him.

He wraps you in a warm embrace, holding you around your shoulders so that his soft arm hair brushes the nape of your neck. He keeps you safe in his arms while you keep the baby safe in your womb.

In a little while, a commercial will interrupt Harris’s TV show. He’ll come running over to exclaim that he needs the toy being advertised, despite having a present-filled birthday just three weeks ago, and the Munson home will return to its definition of normalcy. For now, you and Eddie relish in this special moment, just the two of you and the tiny bean that is Baby Munson.

--

[silken-moonlight]

Werewolf bf in adult entertainment industry Part 3

A/N: Hey Moonies, I was finally able to upload the third chapter of this story. I really want to write more again, but recently everything has been busy and I am so tired. But the good thing is at the end of this month I will go on a two-week vacation where I will have a lot of time to write. I am looking forward to that 😊

The evening went on wonderfully, you cuddled and laughed some more. After a while you decided to go to sleep, him not having anything there so he decided to sleep in his shirt and boxers. You offered him some of your oversized shirts, but he declined, saying it was okay.

That was how the two of you ended in your bed, he cuddled up to you, wrapping his arms around you. You weren’t used to somebody sleeping with you, so you needed a moment before you fell asleep. Orion on the other hand had been out like a light. In his sleep he murmured and held you closer, dreaming about something and seemingly finding some calm in cuddling something. Eventually you fell asleep as well.

The next morning you woke up under him, he was sprawled out over you. His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent while he was gone. You smiled, the sun blinding you and you wanted to get up.

“Time to wake up…” You whispered. He groaned, not moving when you brushed through his hair. “Wake up Orion…” You said again, earning another groan in protest. “You have one second to get up before I tickle you.” You threatened, but only found deaf ears. So you poked at his sides and he began to laugh.

“Stop” He whined, trying to get you to stop tickling him. “Make me!” You answered, resulting in him grabbing you and pushing you into the bed. You giggled as he pinned your wrist above your head. His face Incredibly close to yours. You leaned up to kiss him and he melted into you. His body pressed into yours as he kissed you, you parted and he buried his face in the crook of your neck: “I just want to stay like this all day…” He mumbled and placed a kiss onto your neck. You smiled: “Well, I have off until next week, the wedding is on the weekend….” You crooned and you could feel him smile against your skin, a sigh left him as he let his full weight down, completely laying on your body now. Your arms wrapped around him, one hand in his hair and the other gently rubbing his back.

“You really want me to fall asleep on you…” He whispered and enjoyed your attention. “Yep, because you look so adorable when you sleep.” He smiled, shuffling around to try to get any closer.

___________________

The two of you spent the rest of your morning like this, cuddled up and happy. Around noon you got up and you made some bagels for breakfast. “Dumb question…” Orion began as he bit into the bagel and closed his eyes in delight. It has been some time since he had eaten something homemade.

“Yes?” You asked with a chuckle as you eat your own bagel. He quickly caught himself and continued: “Can I…well come to stay with you until the wedding? I would get my stuff from the hotel to stay here…” For a moment he looked really shy and unsure. He made such a cute face that you wanted to kiss him. “Sure, since we’re dating since yesterday.” You teased and he smiled widely. “Great, want to come with me?” You nodded and quickly the two of you ate up and got ready for the day.

Afterwards you took his car to the hotel, getting the stuff from his room and checking out. You helped him, though he only let you carry some lighter bag. Everything was quickly loaded into his car and you drove back to your place. Together you put his stuff somewhere where he could easily access it.

“I completely forgot…” Orion suddenly said and took his phone out to check his account on the adult stream site Bad Baby. “Hm?” You asked, looking up from the pot where you prepared some Mac n Cheese. “I need to upload some stuff.” Orion said and yawned. “I have pre recorded some things, its just gonna take a minute. I’m gonna kip through the footage if you don't mind?” He asked and you nodded. “Feel free to go ahead.” You told him, he grinned. “Oh I should feel free to give head?” He teased you and threw a cheesy noodle at him which he caught with his mouth.

“Dirty dog…” You answered and laughed when he struggled with some cheese on the corner of his mouth. He grinned to himself before starting a video. You heard him moan in the video. A deep blush spread on your face and you tried to ignore it. A familiar warmth spread between your thighs and again you chose to ignore it. This was not a moment for you to be aroused, at least you tried to tell you that. You hoped his werewolf nose didn’t catch up on that and he felt weirded out.

“Can I ask for your opinion?” He asked as you finished up your lunch and put in on the side so it didn’t burn.

“Sure thing, sweets.” You answered and he pulled you onto his lap. “What do you think of it?” He asked and showed you the video, his chin placed on your shoulder, watching the screen with you. It was a video of him jerking off and being in a more dominant role.

“It's really good. I mean your content is so hot and great. Though I think you could do a little better with the lightning, why don't you get a coloured light bulb to have some warmth added to it? O cool tones depending on the vibe you go for.” You suggested and he placed a kiss on your shoulder. “That's actually a good idea, I'm gonna order something later to do just that.” He said and posted the video to his page. He scrolled through some comments while cuddling you closer.

“How do you do it with aftercare?” You asked him, wondering how he took care of himself after such videos. “Well, mostly I take a shower and order myself some food and drink.” Orion answered, letting go of you so that you could prepare two plates with the mac and cheese. “Sounds nice.” You answered as you put the plates down.

“How about you? What do you do after pleasuring yourself?” He asked with a subtle smirk. You thought about it for a second: “Since I always do it before I sleep…I either clean my toys right after or turn around to sleep.”

“Now I’m curious, can I see your toys?” He asked with a grin, loving how open you were once more.

“Sure.” You said, after finishing up your lunch, the two of you walked into your bedroom and you took out your toys. Orion was excited, sitting down next to them. “Is that a small werewolf dildo?” He asked with a grin and grabbed that dildo.

“That isn't small.” You said while blushing, you had gotten this after you had discovered Orion on the Internet. You desperately wanted to feel how it would be to be taken by a werewolf. You had been so proud when you'd Figured out how to completely get that inside of yourself.

“It is, or I am just have a Monster dick.” He teased, you laughed and answered:”You do, I mean I Google the average werewolf cock and you are above that.” You said which made him blush:”Oh, now you flatter me…” The next thing that caught his attention were your airpulse toys. “I heared about these things, are they actually that good?” You nodded:”Those toys are an orgasm guranteed. They are so good, you get overstimulated so quickly.” You told him. He turned it on and held it to his finger and increased the speed:”That's some quality right here…” He told you with a grin, the way he looked at you made you all hot and bothered.

“What?” You asked and looked away. He turned your head back to him, making you look at him:”You are so pretty when flustered…” He crooned and kissed you, pulling you onto his lap. His hands found your waist. He pulled away and was serious again:”I'm a pretty sexual guy, even for a werewolf…If i go to fast or aren't in the mood..” Your Features softend:”I promise I tell you I don't feel okay with something.” You placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

He smiled; his playful smirk returned as he pushed you off his lap on your back. You looked up and he took the airpulse thing in his hand:”Can I try this on you?” He crooned and you nodded. “Go ahead.” You answered and he kissed up from your knee. “I can smell your arousal…” Orion whispered, pulling at your shorts. It only took him a second until you laid bare from the waist down.

He licked his lips and his breathing quickened. “Your pussy is so pretty.”Orion told you and touched you gently. You whined, his fingers were so warm. The toy was suddenly placed on your clit and you yelped. He chuckled and pressed you back down. “Baby chill its just the first setting…” He teased. You squirmed:”Itdoffr feel so much more intense when another does it…” You whined, he nodded:”I know I know…Do you feel good, sweetheart?” You nodded hard and asked:”May I touch you.” He smiled down at you:”Yes…Yes please…” Orion encouraged you, not thinking that his bulge was in perfect reach for you to press and feel it. Which you did. You pressed your palm against it. He whined and as he played with the setting of the toy -making you yelp and struggle - while grining into your hand.

He sounded different than in his Videos, he sounded more real, more uncontrolled. You loved it, you wanted to make him moan but…he made your mind so fuzzy with the toy.

“Lets make you cum.” Orion crooned while humping your hand harder, you nodded:”Yes please…” He moved it around, makinf your legs twitch as you came hsrdly. Your hips movikg with the toy and you moaned so loud. Seeing you cum for him made him cum, creaming his pants.

Both of you panted, you pulled him down to kiss him gently and he melted into you. “You're perfect…” He whispered, cuddling youwen for a moment.

“Would it be weird for me to take a pic and Post it to my Blog?” He asked you, you shook your head:”Go ahead. I bet your followers would love it.” He smiled; angled himself on your bed and snapped some pictures. You two cleaned yourselves up and went back on the couch. Building a little cuddle nest for the rest of the afternoon.

[adnauseum11]

WILCO (John Price x Reader)

You have a rude awakening and John makes a suggestion.

900 words

CW: swearing

feedback welcome as always!

You wake to your cell phone’s ringtone, blaring from John’s bedside table. It startles you both awake, John jerking nearly upright beside you in bed. You groan and take the ringing phone from John’s hand, clearing your throat before you answer it. 

John wilts back into the mattress, dragging his palms over his face with a deep sigh. You pat his shoulder, sliding out of bed to take your call. You realize it’s work calling to see where you are midway down the hallway, your absence eventually noticed. You explain, through your sleep roughened voice, that your home had been broken into the previous night and you don’t think you will be making it in today.

There’s some back and forth about the level of professionalism expected, to simply not turn up considered unacceptable regardless of circumstances. They agree to not write you up due to the extenuating nature of your situation but advise that notice is required when missing a day of work. It rubs you the wrong way, being chastised like a teenager. By the time John joins you in the kitchen in his jeans and t-shirt, you’re already demoralized before the day has begun. 

“Who was that?” he wants to know, taking in the slope of your shoulders and the long stare you are giving your coffee mug.

“Work, and honestly, I think I’m going to quit.”

John blinks and checks his watch and raises a brow at you, pouring his own coffee.

“It’s not even 10 am.”

“So what?” 

“Awful early to be making rash life decisions, love.” He says archly, taking a sip of his steaming mug. 

“Well, no time like the present.” You grumble, gently patting his ribs to make him move when he stands blocking the pantry. 

He steps aside and watches you, scratching his whiskered cheek with an air of uncertainty that is unlike him. You rummage around in his pantry shelves, looking for bagels but finding whole grain bread instead. You shoot him a look when he’s still looking at you a few seconds later, waiting for your toast. 

“What? I’m serious, I think I’m going to quit. I don’t give a fuck about their bottom line when I’m…what? Temporarily homeless? Shit, I gotta send a copy of the police report to the landlord-”

You set your coffee down and turn to leave your position by the toaster but John catches you, a fond look on his face as he wraps his hand around your wrist.

“Hold on, love. One second. That can wait a few minutes. Eat your breakfast. There’s still raspberries in the fridge.”

“I know, I didn’t want to finish them all on you.”

“Darling they’re for you. Eat them.” John is amused, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss your palm.

“Yeah?” You can’t keep the elation out of your voice. Your toast pops and you pull away, preoccupied with buttering the slices for a moment.

John retrieves the berries for you instead of answering, sitting beside you at the kitchen table as he slides them onto your plate. You immediately pop one into your mouth, making him smile softly. He fists his hand at his temple and leans on his elbow, watching you inhale berry after berry for a moment before broaching the topic that’s been circling in his brain since last night. 

“If you’re still in the mood for rash life decisions, I have another for you. I think you should break your lease and move in here. Live with me, love.”

You freeze with a berry half way to your mouth, eyes widening. You know he hates your apartment. You didn’t realize he was this serious about leaving it behind. 

“Really, John? You don’t think that’s moving kind of… fast?”

You can feel your heart thrumming in your chest, nervous suddenly. John purses his lips and shakes his head ‘no’, not taking his eyes off you. His sureness is steadying, zero hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Not really. Feels more like home when you’re here, love. Always has.”

John’s tone is soft, and you know him well enough to know he’s being sincere. The moment suddenly feels weighted, like whatever you decide will colour your relationship moving forward. You can’t tear your eyes away from his, the sharp blue of his gaze pinning you in place, demanding a decision in one direction or another. The blanket you gave him catches the corner of your eye, draped over the back of his couch, where it’s had pride of place since it came into his care. It calls up his words from last night, spoken in frustration.  

You bite your lip and nod slowly, focusing back on John’s handsome face.  “Alright, I… yeah. We can…I can break my lease.”

The slow smile that takes over John’s face, matches the one spreading across yours. 

“I’m going to be honest love, I thought it would take more convincing than this.” He says lowly, hooking his foot in the rung of your chair to drag you closer to his seat. You feed him the forgotten raspberry in your hand, his lips dragging over your fingertips making your stomach swoop. 

“I can be more difficult if you like.” You purr, biting your bottom lip and feeding him another berry. 

The look between you turns heated but before either of you can act on it, his cell rings, breaking the moment. He leans over and kisses you before getting up to take his call, his eyes lingering on you at the kitchen table.   

Next Chapter

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@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms

[drabblesandimagines]

Dove (part three)

Leon Kennedy x female reader Part one. Part two. Warnings: Things get a bit gory in a flashback, description of panic attack.

“Anything will be great. We’ll take it slow. You ready?”

You’re not, but you doubt you ever will be.

“Ready.”

Leon taps twice on the laptop’s trackpad and it emits a beep, signaling the recording has begun, before he leans back, places his hands on his thighs and smiles. He has a nice smile, it’s reaching his eyes and you try and focus on that and not the sick feeling that’s growing in your stomach. “So, let’s go from the top. Yesterday morning…” You feel yourself inhale sharply. “..alarm goes off, or are you a natural riser?”

You weren’t expecting that to be the first question.

“I… I have an alarm.”

“What time did it go off?”

“I set it for 0630. And I got out of bed right away, otherwise I linger and then I’m late.” If only you knew what was to come you would’ve stayed in bed all day - covers pulled up and over your head.

“Then what did you do?”

“I had a shower, then I got dressed – in what you saw me in.” You hesitate - does he need that much detail, or was that too obvious and waste his time? You wait another beat, in case he wants to say anything, dismiss it from the record, but Leon just sits there there, hands resting on his thighs, looking at you, encouragingly, to continue. You press your nails into the palm of your hand, trying to concentrate. “Then I made a coffee to take with me on the walk to the office. I… I like to get there for 0745.”

“No breakfast?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Sorry. I made a slice of toast, ate it while I was waiting for the coffee to brew.” You remember leaning up against your kitchen counter to eat it – you hadn’t even got a plate out the cupboard, just buttered it on the chopping board, left the knife in the sink to wash up later… Is there going to be a later? You dig your nails into palm again, hard enough to leave indents. “Sometimes I’ll get a bagel from this cart near work, if that matters.” It probably doesn’t, but you want to stop thinking about home.

“And do you walk to the office every day?”

“No – weather dependent. I mean, there’s a bus I can take. There’s just a lot of traffic and so many stops that I found it takes the same amount of time to ride that as walk, so I get that if it’s too cold or wet. Listen to music, usually.”

“Okay, good.” He’s laying on the praise a little thick, but you accept it gratefully all the same, along with his smile. “Doing really good. So, you walked to work. Anything unusual you remember from on the way there?”

“No. Just the same walk, really. I’m pretty good at the whole awareness of my surroundings cos of the job, so…”

“Of course,” he nods. “And you got in the office at 0745?”

“Erm… Probably not precisely 0745.” You scan in through a turnstile, don’t wanna say you got in at a specific time in case it comes back to haunt you. “And I don’t need to be clocked on until 0800, but I had time to made another coffee in the breakroom before I logged on to my terminal, so probably between 0745 and 0800.”

“And are there turnstiles or a security check when you enter?” Had he read your mind? No, he probably has it noted down to cross-check your story.

“Yeah – bag searched, walk through the metal detector, then there’s a turnstile I have to scan in at.” Like any of those protocols had stopped whatever or whoever it was who had got inside.

“Okay, good. Headed to the breakroom, then from there to your terminal, and no other stops, no colleague interruptions?”

“Er… Yeah, one.” You swallow, her face flashing across your mind. “Am I allowed to use their name?”

Leon nods.

“Clara was in the breakroom when I got there, making a coffee. She had a date the night before – I asked her how it went.”

“Okay. Do you know what the date’s name was?”

“No. She’d just mentioned it the day before, though. We were leaving at the same time and she was excited about it, so I thought I’d ask. He’d been really dull at dinner apparently. She didn’t think she’d bother seeing him again.”

And no-one will be seeing her ever again either, your brain so helpfully reminds you.

“Okay. So, you’ve made it to the office, made your coffee, spoke to Clara, sat down at the terminal… What’s that, exactly?”

“It’s a computer, basically. All linked in to the main server, sit in like half cubicles. The screens have these hoods on, so no-one can see what you’re looking at unless they’re in the seat. They’re called terminals on all the internal documents.”

“Right, got you. What’s a usual work day for you? Did yesterday’s seem any different?”

“Do you know much about the surveillance department?”

Leon shakes his head. “I know you’re an intel source.”

“Yeah, that’s about it. Individuals get marked for surveillance from email scans or phone calls, travel plans, receipts, CCTV – it can be just be a word that flags them up or someone makes a tip-off, then we conduct investigations to see whether they’re involved in bioterrorism. So, I log on and open my assigned cases. We rotate every day and there’s always a few you can dismiss immediately because it’s flagged up erroneously. Some, there’s already previous analysis done, so you go through the notes and then check if there’s been any activity or correspondence logged overnight. If there hasn’t been on those cases, I open up a new case – rinse and repeat. It’ll give me a notification on the system if there’s activity on any of my pre-allocated cases, so I switch between as activity starts and stops.”

“Huh,” he muses. “How do you pick up a new case – just see what takes your fancy?”

“No,” you shake your head. “They’re random. You click a button and the system assigns you one. They change the code every week of how it does it.”

“Why’s it random?”

“Er, in case anyone is… trying to protect someone, I guess? Or being blackmailed into, like, closing a case.”

“I see. And nothing out of the ordinary all morning?”

“No. I… I had one case that had had a lot of email activity overnight, so I went through that. Then I submitted a couple of reports advising three… or maybe four cases be closed - I can’t remember exactly - but it’s not unusual to advise closing cases as people get flagged up all the time.”

“Yeah, all make sense. Did you get a break?”

“Yeah, I had a break at 1300 to 1330. I brought in a boxed lunch…” You didn’t mention that earlier, did you? “I made it the night before – not in the morning. I grabbed it out of the fridge before I left my apartment.”

“It’s all right, Dove.” Leon soothes. “I’m not expecting you to remember every finite detail – you’re doing really well.”

You nod, a little shakily. “I ate it in the breakroom. A couple of my colleagues popped in and out, but no-one sat with me that day. I made a coffee and went back to my terminal.”

“Okay.” He nods, leaning forward then and squinting a little at something on the laptop screen. “So, 1442 is when the power was cut to the building. Where were you when that happened?”

“I had an active call that I was listening in on, it hadn’t been going on very long. And then…” You fix your stare on the coffee table then – you don’t want to look at Leon’s face anymore, those sympathetic blue eyes. “..everything went dark. There was about 15 seconds before the emergency lighting came on, or it should’ve been. We have drills every so often, and it’s meant to be quick, but only enough to light the path to the fire exits, you know? But it looked like the back-up generator was coming on too, because I’m sure I saw the terminal screen reboot a second.”

“And you didn’t hear anyone say anything?”

“I think it was quiet, I don’t know if anyone said anything, but there wasn’t an alarm to evacuate. I had my headphones on still as I thought when the terminal reboots, I’ll just get straight back into the call if it was still going after I logged in because they’ll be annoyed if we all left unnecessarily, you know?” Your eyes are still fixed on the coffee table, so you don’t know if he nods or not. “But then…” You wonder if your nails will pierce through the skin of your palm this time with how hard you're pressing. “Then I heard this scream and… And…”

You let out a shuddering breath, hearing the scream echoing around in your mind.

“It’s all right, Dove,” Leon reaches out a hand but stops himself, leaving it hovering awkwardly over your knee. “Here,” he leans forward instead, picks up the glass. “Have some water, okay?”

You take the glass, not even able to say thank you, and put it up to your lips, but it clinks against your teeth, feels too cold sliding down your throat and into your stomach.

He takes the glass back from you as you lower it from your lips, placing it down on the table gently, and waits. He doesn’t press, he doesn’t smile, just waits.

You exhale, close your eyes – you’re not sure if it makes it worse.

“I… I took my headphones off and I… I couldn’t work out what it was. It didn’t sound human – something guttural. I think I heard someone swear, and more screams, but those were human. I-I got up from my chair, stepped out and looked down the hall and… there was this thing, like…” You search for the words, but not for too long. “Sorry, I don’t how to describe it.”

“That’s all right. We’ve got them on the CCTV.”

“But it had... someone in its mouth. And I should know who it was, because I’ve worked with these people for so long, but it h-had their head in its mouth. How could I not know?” Your voice breaks.

“Dove,” Leon starts, gently, “I think we should take a break.”

You shake your head, determined to get it over with. “It shook its head, like a dog shakes a toy, but it bit down and… I don’t know if I blacked it out because I don’t remember how I got there, but I was on the ground, like something had knocked me down and… someone was on top of me.”

“I am so sorry.”

“There were more and more screams and sounds I can’t describe - from all around – and everywhere I looked there just seemed another one of those things, clambering over cubicles with these awful, long tongues, snapping around limbs and, like, ricocheting people back. I got up and ran but there was blood in my eyes and I don’t know if it was mine or someone else’s, but I didn’t get far because this horrible wet thing wrapped around my arm and I got thrown into the wall or something else hard. My arm went limp – I think that’s when it dislocated my shoulder and maybe that confused it because it let go? I don’t know why it would let go when it didn’t for anyone else and… I… The stairs…”

And that’s it, your resolve has cracked and sobs erupt from deep within your chest, your whole body shaking, your vision obscured with hot tears and you can’t breathe with the grief.

There’s a beep – Leon’s frantically stopped the laptop recording, and then he’s sat right next to you, taking your good hand in his and squeezing it.

“I need you to breathe, okay? It’s going to seem hard, but I know you can do it, Dove. We’re going to breathe in through the nose for four, hold that breath in our lungs for another four, and then we’re going to exhale through our mouths for four. Okay? I’m gonna keep count with a squeeze of your hand, close your eyes if you want, I just really need you to breathe.”

You nod, sobs instead of breaths, and it feels impossible as Leon begins squeezing your hand in rounds of four. It’s poor at best, not inhaling enough, breaths still cut short as you cry, but he persists, round after round until, finally, you feel the air is finally reaching the bottom of your lungs, crying reduced to sniffles – feeling exhausted.

“I should’ve stopped you – realized you needed a break.” He stops squeezing your hand but he doesn’t let go.

“No,” your voice still feels tight. “I wanted it over with. Is that selfish?”

“Not at all.” Leon replies quickly, firmly, before his tone softens. “I know this a dumb question before I even ask, but is there anything I can do for you right now, or get you?”

“Can I have a hug?” You ask, quietly - a fleeting thought of that surely would be against protocol, but you need something grounding.

“Of course.” His arms wrap around you – strong, solid, warm arms, mindful of your shoulder, pressing you into his chest and the scent of the strawberry bodywash. You can hear his heartbeat as you press your face into him.

Leon doesn’t speak, doesn’t move either, just keeps holding you close. Hell, he needed a hug after Raccoon City, he’d just never got the guts to ask Claire for one. Not in front of Sherry anyway, and no-one was gonna hug him when he got sent off to military training.

He doesn’t know how long you’ve sat like that, but he is aware as you grow limp against his chest, falling into an emotionally exhausted sleep. He knows it’s not proper for him to be doing this with you, the DSO asset he’s meant to be protecting, but from past experience, he knows you won’t be asleep long and what the DSO doesn’t know can’t hurt them.

Speaking of, he thinks, leaning against the back of the sofa and tilting you gently down with him, he slips a hand into his pocket for his phone and types a quick message.

Interview concluded. Will have timeline of incident and report sent by 2000. Summary - experiencing survivor's guilt, not a suspect.

--

Part four.

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day! PS: I'm sorry if this was extremely boring but hopefully some nice fluff in there for you at the end x

[officialaemondtargaryen]

A Fine Line [part 3]

Summary: You've been with Aegon for a little over four years and the relationship just isn't the same. His brother isn't helping the situation, either. This is a Modern Day AU!

Pairing: Aegon x Reader / Aemond x Reader

Word Count: 4.0k

Author’s Note: Sorry it was late! I don't know if my M,W,F schedule is going to work. I just want to say thank you all! I really hope you like this one and please, I would love to hear your thoughts & predictions! I basically screech like a pterodactyl whenever you guys leave comments! Tag list is open!

Warnings for the entire series: severe angst, cheating, unprotected sex, jealousy, lying, possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, and language, alcohol use, recreational drug use.

Masterlist & Playlist

The light from the early, Saturday morning sun filtered into your bedroom through half-opened blinds, illuminating tiny specks of dust in the air. It was warm with Aegon pressed against your back; his soft breaths fanning over your shoulder. You stirred softly, turning so that you were facing him, doing your absolute best to not disturb him so that he could continue to sleep in.

It broke your heart to look at him now, knowing that your relationship was hanging by a thread. Wondering how you got here, how you arrived at the platform of whatever these feelings were that you felt for him. Caught between the memories of what you had once before, and feeling as if you were in this bed alone, despite the fact that he was laying right next to you.

You moved, swinging your feet over the side of the bed as you stood up with a sigh. Aegon groaned, his arms reaching for you before turning back over on his stomach and going right back to sleep. His wavy, golden hair splayed out on the pillows as he shifted deeper into them. The duvet pulled down, exposing his freckled shoulders. It took everything in you not to reach out and touch him.

Even your fingers balled into a fist, nails digging into your palm to keep yourself from it. Why? You'd wind up disappointed, feeling unwanted, and he'd be annoyed that you woke him.

The thought made you want to cry.

It was around noon when he finally emerged from the bedroom. You had lost track of how long you'd been sitting at the kitchen table; a bagel untouched on the plate in front of you. You jumped slightly at the feeling of his hand on the back of your neck, just briefly touching you as he made his way to the coffee maker. It was a fleeting moment, his fingertips leaving you just as quickly as they came.

He was in a white t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Despite his disheveled appearance, he looked close to angelic- even with the dark circles under his clouded, blue eyes. You could hear him inhale and exhale heavily with his first sip of coffee; shoulders rising and falling with his breath.

When did it become this way? This silence?

You used to look forward to Saturday mornings; knowing that you had two full days with him to yourself. You'd spend every weekend tangled on the couch or in the bed, not getting up unless you absolutely needed to. Weekends in the summer were always fun, too. He'd always find something for the two of you to do; getting high at the beach, spending your days at Coney eating corndogs and funnel cake until you wanted to throw up or throw yourselves right off the end of the pier. You missed his ice cream cone kisses and the way he would lay his head in your lap as you would read whatever novel you had brought with you that day.

"Colleen Hoover," you whispered to yourself as you absentmindedly stirred your lukewarm coffee; the last book you remember reading on a beach towel under the hot, July sun.

"What was that?" Aegon asked, turning to face you.

You were broken out of your trance and looked up at him. "What?"

"I think you went somewhere," a goofy smile replaced his signature pout. When you didn't say anything, his smile faltered. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Mm," you hummed and took a sip of your coffee before making a face. It was definitely lukewarm- cold, even. "So, awards ceremony tonight, huh?"

Aegon rolled his eyes, "If I could just not, I would not."

You stood up and dumped your cold coffee down the drain and sat your cup in the sink. "But babe," you sighed softly and reached for him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Look at everything you've accomplished, what you've become! You've worked so hard!"

His eyes were glued to the floor. "You're right," his lips turned up into a smile as he looked up at you through fair lashes. His hands caressed the skin on the back of your arms. "I've worked really hard, and soon it will all pay off and we'll buy a house and get a dog." His forehead pressed against yours as he sighed. His eyes fluttered shut. "A golden retriever, we'll name him Sunny."

"Sunny sounds like he's a really good boy," you whispered and moved to place a kiss on his lips.

"The best," his body became less tense.

You smiled as you stood like that for a moment, just swaying back and forth as he held you so close that you could feel his heartbeat. He was so warm in your arms that you felt like you were holding onto a piece of the sun. You turned your head to place a kiss on the side of his neck, lips brushing the soft skin under his ear, wanting nothing but to tell him that you loved him, that you missed him, that you wanted things to go back to the way they were. But your eyes fluttered open as you heard his phone vibrate on the counter, the moment instantly shattering to bring you back to the reality of your mediocre life. Aegon tensed, his head falling to your shoulder as he groaned in annoyance.

"And so it begins," he mumbled. He let the phone ring, knowing that Otto would call back immediately after it went to voicemail.

Before he could leave the kitchen, you stopped him.

"Hey, would you mind if I invited Aemond to go bowling with us tonight?" You asked, gnawing on the inside of your cheek.

"Not at all," he shrugged. "It'd probably be good for him to get out. Let me see what this fucker wants and then I'll text you his number."

Aegon left shortly after, having been summoned to some "pre-ceremony conference" just to finalize the details of the evening. He had sent over Aemond's contact information before he left, promising that he would see you later tonight. Suddenly you found yourself alone, the silence sitting with you like a friend that you'd run out of things to talk about with.

You stared at your phone for what felt like hours, thumbs hovering over the keyboard; not sure why 'hey, did you really want to go bowling' was such a hard thing to say, but you typed it and deleted it about one hundred times. The final time you typed the words, you quickly pressed the tiny, blue arrow, sending the message into the void before setting your phone face down on the table and standing up.

Before you had even turned to walk out of the kitchen and towards your bedroom, you heard a ding! The butterflies in your stomach, which shouldn't have been there, fluttered mercilessly almost making you nauseous. You inhaled at the sight of the words on the screen, your eyes scanning them over and over again: "Of course, I'll see you there." What was most likely an unambiguous winking emoji at the end of that sentence- because in your experience, men didn't know what emojis even were- was staring back at you with a strange tension that caused a knot to form in your throat.

It was wrong.

It was all so, so wrong.

You placed your phone back down on the kitchen table and shook your head; fighting an internal battle with the guilt and the excitement that you felt. Neither one was winning, but both were slowly tearing you in half.

The thought of cancelling crossed your mind as you showered, but only because you found yourself fantasizing about every possible scenario that would lead to this night ending with you on your back in Aemond's bed. You pictured a navy blue duvet and cold, cotton sheets; a wooden headboard tapping against dark colored walls. Your legs clenched together at the thought of his weight pressing down on you.

As you continued to get ready, the images were becoming ingrained on the back of your eyelids. Every time you closed your eyes small details would change; positions, locations, where his mouth was on your body, the lighting of the room, the scent of his cologne, if his hair was up or down. You had tried to reason with yourself, that this was a completely normal feeling, that you just hadn't been laid in a while.

It didn't make a difference.

You half-hoped that he wouldn't follow through with his plans to meet you at the bowling alley. However, when you turned the corner on to 9th Avenue, you noticed his lithe figure leaning against the outside of the building. You stopped for a few seconds, watching him as he stood there; his warm breath swirling in the frigid, January air as he checked his phone.

Seconds later you felt a vibration in your pocket: "I'm here."

"I have to ask, what is your haircare routine because I've yet to see you have a bad hair day." You texted back.

He looked up and around until his gaze caught you, a small smile tugged at his lips as he pushed himself off of the side of the building. You joined him at his side, your neck craned to see his face.

"It is surprisingly simple, but if I told you then I'd have to kill you," he said so smoothly he could have rehearsed it. "And I like you," he added as he opened the door into the bowling alley and gestured for you to go inside. "So, I'd rather not say."

You smirked at his words, eyes rolling slightly. "If you ever change your mind, here's my business card-" of course you had one with you. "My readers would love to know."

He chuckled at that, "I absolutely will," and tucked the card in his coat pocket. "So who's birthday is it?"

"My coworker, Jace," you replied as you scoured the lanes for Baela and Jace. "He's probably a few years younger than you, writes really thoughtful obituaries." You spotted Baela and waved. "Baela is here, too. You met her last night."

You weren't sure why you felt nervous. Aemond certainly didn't seem to be. He was so calm and collected, and cool, as if it was effortless to him; as if he didn't command every eye to look at him the moment he entered a room. The look on Baela's face couldn't have been further from calm, collected, and cool. Her white curls fell over furrowed brows and her lips were pushed to the side.

Jace just looked happy to be there.

"Hey guys," you greeted as you stepped down to the table they were sitting at. "Happy birthday, Jace!" You moved to give him a quick hug. "Jace this is Aegon's brother, Aemond. Aemond, this is Jace. Aegon couldn't make it, some work thing."

"Lucky me," Aemond smirked as he shook Jace's hand. "It's nice to meet you." He then turned his attention to Baela. "Lovely to see you again, Baela."

Despite her rigid expression earlier, you did see her cheeks turn just a shade darker as he kissed her knuckles. You smiled to yourself.

"You guys should go get shoes," Jace mentioned. "Unless you're afraid to lose."

Aemond's eye squinted as he looked at Jace and laughed, "In a hurry to get shown up on your birthday?"

"Go get the shoes!" You groaned at him, pushing him towards the rental counter. "I'm a size __." Your eyes followed Aemond as he disappeared through the crowd before you turned your attention back to Baela. "What?"

Her arms were crossed over her chest. "I'm just concerned," she says softly. "You've been here all of five minutes and I haven't seen you this happy in two years? I just don't want you to do something that you'll regret."

Your shoulders slump and you rolled your eyes dramatically. "Baela, I'm just-" you stopped when you saw Aemond making his way back over to the table. "Being nice! Two people can be just friends."

She gave you a look but dropped the subject as Aemond dropped your bowling shoes in front of your feet. Someone ordered a round of shots, and then a second round, and a third. It was starting to get warm, the music was loud, and you felt good. Aemond was surprisingly extroverted, despite the enigmatic aura he typically projected. He seemed so nonchalant, like he belonged there, like he was good at it.

The game was obviously competitive, with Jace and Aemond doing their best to one-up each other with every strike. They carried most of the score, while you and Baela joked around, not really caring. You stepped up to the line, getting ready to throw the swirly purple and teal ball down the lane.

"Wait, wait, wait!" You heard behind you. A flurry of pale blonde hair bounced towards your side. "I've watched you throw three straight gutter balls, please, allow me?"

"What?" You gasped. "I know we're behind, but I'm not going to cheat and let you take my shot for me!"

Aemond held a hand to his chest, "The fact that you would even insinuate that I'd allow you to cheat!" He scoffed. "Please, just-"

He turned you back to face the pins, the contact of his hands on your shoulders made you disoriented. You tried to breathe, but it was so warm in there. There was a slight rosy hue to his otherwise pale cheeks as he towered over you. His hands lingered still on your shoulders. You tried not to pay attention to the way his fingers pressed into your skin as your blouse shifted beneath his grip.

"Put your feet here," he instructed and pointed to where you should stand with his toe. One hand dropped to the small of your back, you swallowed thick. "Now," his lips were dangerously close to your ear. "Line your ball up with that pin and when you step up to throw, bring this leg back."

You felt the inside of your body clenching as his hands dropped to your waist. Your cheeks flushed as the hair on the back of your neck stood straight.

Following his instruction, you took a few steps up to the pine and released your ball. Within seconds it curved to the left, falling straight into the gutter once more. You turned to look at him with a disappointed frown. His lips couldn't help but begin to turn upwards at your failure.

“I thought you said you were good at this?” You say to Aemond, giving him a playful shove. "We're going to lose!"

"And you'd blame me?" He asked with a smile.

"You instructed me right into a gutter ball!" You threw your hands up.

"My instruction was flawless, as always," you could hear the double entendre in his voice. "Not my fault you couldn't focus."

"I beg to differ," you quipped under your breath, knowing that he was close enough to hear you.

On his next turn, Jace bowled a strike to win the game. The scores weren't even close, but it didn't matter. You'd had more fun tonight than you'd had in- well, since you could remember. For a moment, you'd wished Aegon had been here, but you shut the door on that thought as you checked your phone to see that he hadn't texted you- not even to check in- since he left the apartment earlier.

Your eyes connected with Aemond as you slipped your phone back into your pocket and you smiled softly. You hardly knew him, but you could tell he knew; Aegon was his brother, after all.

"Another game?" Jace asked.

"I don't think I have another game in me," you chuckled. "My shoulder is killing me after the three games we just played."

"The three games you lost, you mean?" Jace countered.

"Hey, I know it's your birthday, but I will still kick your ass!" You laughed as you slipped out of your bowling shoes.

"We'll have a rematch, soon." Aemond interjected, holding his hand out to Jace. "Good match."

"Girls versus guys next time, maybe?" Jace laughed and shook Aemond's hand.

"That wouldn't be fair," Aemond mentioned with a cocky smirk.

"I wouldn't underestimate us," Baela added as she slung her arm over your shoulder and began walking with you towards the counter to drop off your shoes.

The midnight air was numbing as you stepped out of the comforting warmth of the bowling alley. You were almost instantly sobered, feeling tiny flecks of snow fall to your face. The sidewalks were still buzzing and the traffic on 9th Avenue was still busy as car horns sounded in the distance; a reminder that you lived in a 24 hour city.

"Anyone want to go grab a slice of pizza?" You asked. One, because you needed something to soak up the alcohol in your stomach. And two, because you knew that once Jace and Baela left, you'd be alone with Aemond.

Baela hugged you tightly before holding you at arms length, she mentioned something about going to church with her parents tomorrow morning and promised to see you bright-and-early Monday morning. Jace was already flushed from having a few, too many drinks, and Baela urged that he needed to get home.

You weren't necessarily disappointed, just anxious.

"Thanks for coming," Jace smiled warmly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder in a side hug. He extended his fist out to Aemond, "it was good to meet you, man."

"Likewise, have a good night." His voice was soft through a tight-lipped smile.

You watched as Baela and Jace turned the corner, before turning your attention to Aemond. The headlights of passing by taxi cars shined in his crystalline eye, making him look as if he were unreal; a marble statue dressed in all back with his hands shoved into his pockets. You weren't sure what to say to him, if you should stay or go.

"Can I walk you to the train?" He asked and you exhaled with a smile.

"I'd like that," you replied.

The closest subway platform was two blocks down on 42nd. You did your best to keep up with his long strides, but it proved to be difficult. He had to stop a few times, turning to you with a smile while he waited for you to catch up. You mostly talked about work to keep the conversation going. The one thing you had noticed about Aemond was that he was a good listener, whether he actually cared about anything you were saying or not, he at least seemed to be interested.

He talked about himself, too, which you enjoyed. He talked about all of the places he had travelled to last year and how happy he was to be back home. He gushed about being able to see his family again, specifically his mother and his sister.

You'd never once heard Aegon speak about his family in such a way.

"Can I ask you something?" You said after the conversation had faded out. Your train was running late, but Aemond had been willing to wait with you so that you weren't alone.

"I can't guarantee I'll have an answer, but go for it."

"Why didn't you tell Aegon that we had met in the grocery store?"

He looked at you, his eye narrowed. "Honestly, it's just easier not to say anything sometimes." He spoke, a pensive expression across his pointed features. "Why didn't you?"

You dropped you gaze to the concrete floor. "Because it's just easier not to say anything, sometimes." You repeated his own words, knowing exactly what he meant.

"Hm," he hummed as he leaned up against a brick column. "You know," he said after a few moments of silence. You looked back up at him. "This can't happen." He motioned to the space between the two of you.

"What? Never!" You replied quickly. "I'm appalled that you're even assuming."

"I'm just making sure we're on the same page," he held his hands up defensively.

"We are," you agreed.

"We are?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes, we're friends," you replied sternly. "That's all it can be."

"Good," he stuck his hand out for you to shake on it.

You shook his hand with a firm grip, but he turned your hand over in his, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. It made your heart flutter every time. The announcement that your train was arriving played on the overhead speakers.

"Thank you, Y/N. For tonight." His blue eye was piercing through you. "That was the most fun I've had in a while."

They way he said your name and the feeling of your hand in his made you wish he'd just take you home with him; to that navy blue duvet you were picturing earlier. But that was just a fantasy that lived in your mind only, and would never- could never come to fruition. He was right, Baela was right, this couldn't happen.

"You're welcome, I'm glad that you had a good time." You said softly, doing your best to hide your disappointment that the night was ending. "Thank you for coming with me."

As the train pulled up to the platform, you wished that he would pull you into him. The crisp air was thick with tension, and even though you had just agreed to the terms of this- you weren't even sure if you could call it a relationship- friendship, a look lingered in Aemond's eye that told you he didn't mean any of it.

"Friends," you repeated, reminding yourself and him of the deal that you had just made.

He nodded, "Friends."

"I hope you have a good night, Aemond." You pulled your hand from his slowly until it dropped to your side. The doors to the train opened and you found yourself a spot next to the window, forcing yourself not to look back.

Aegon isn't home when you step into your apartment. It's almost too dark and cold, and quiet, and you feel like you shouldn't even be there. You don't even care to hang up your bag and coat, you simply toss them over the arm of the couch. You've got a slight headache and you're starving, and all that you can think about is something you shouldn't be thinking about.

Your phone vibrated as you headed into the kitchen.

Aemond.

"Thanks again, I hope you made it home safe."

You found your thumbs typing a reply before you could even think if it was a good idea or not, "Anytime! I just walked through the door. We should have definitely gotten pizza, but I guess leftover lasagna will work."

Not even bothering to heat up your leftovers, you make your way back into the living room with a Tupperware of lasagna from last night and a fork. You click on the television, catching up on the news before flipping it over to one of your favorite shows.

"You've beaten me, I've got cereal."

You laughed and typed, "That kind of suits you."

Over the next two hours you had squeezed in three new episodes of your show and discussed everything from food, to movies, to philosophy with Aemond. He'd leave you the occasional voice note when he didn't feel like typing a reply, and you'd try not to think about how good his voice sounded at this ungodly hour. You'd try not to think of him sitting back, half-lidded on the couch, in a very comfortable sweater and a pair of joggers with a smile on his face because he was texting you.

It was almost 3:00 AM when you finally got a text from Aegon.

"Don't feel like you need to wait up for me. I love you."

Tagged: @tssf-imagines @gothicwidowsworld @itsabby15 @possiblyafangirl @namelesslosers@toodlesxcuddles @hiraethrhapsody @heavenly1927 @chainsawsangel @hanula18

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Back at My Place

Wake Up, Chapter 4

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: crazy sweet fluff, swearing, a bit of angst at the very end

a/n: I had such a fun time with this chapter. I also realized that I have a very hard time not making Matt angsty. He’s just so self deprecating, it’s easy pickings. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy! Please comment, like, reblog, and request (you’ll seriously make my day. I love hearing what you all think.)

w/c: 3.6k

A breeze blew across a patch of exposed skin on your collar bone, making you shiver yourself awake. Opening your eyes, your surroundings confused you for a minute before you remembered that you’d been at Matt’s last night. But, the last thing you recalled was sitting with him on the couch, listening to Matt as he recounted stories from his childhood. Which mostly meant giggling at the fact that Matt has apparently always had a martyr complex. 

You must have dozed off because you were now wrapped in silk sheets in a bed that smelled like him. Had he carried you here? The thought of Matt picking you up and tucking you into his bed made warmth bloom in your stomach. You bit back a moan picturing his arms caring for you so lovingly. Sinking deeper into the pillow under your head, you inhaled deeply, smiling as you thought about laying there all day just breathing him in. 

The sound of voices outside the closed door shook you out of your fantasy. 

Pushing yourself up, you scrubbed a hand over your face before making your way out to the living room. 

Foggy was having a good morning. Marci had been up before him, miraculously, and had coffee ready for him when he woke. His favorite bakery hadn’t run out of everything bagels when he got there, which was practically unheard of on a Sunday morning. And now, he was making his way over to Matt’s to get proof of life. Which was only slightly dampening his good mood. 

He’d be less worried if the asshole had picked up his call this morning. Foggy and Marci had tried to get ahold of him, to see if you and Matt were alright after the gala, but he didn’t answer. Marci had called you a few times with similar success. So, Foggy had volunteered to go in person. 

Knocking less than politely on Matt’s door, Foggy nearly fell into the other man as the door flew open. 

“Fuck, Foggy, it’s not even 9. You want to wake the whole floor up?” 

“Thank the Lord, Saint Matthew lives another day. If you don’t want me breaking down your door this early, answer your fucking phone next time.” Foggy plastered on a smile, voice laced with false positivity. Barging past his friend into the apartment, he spun around, arms wide. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re alive, my friend. I was having a nice morning and finding you half-dead in your Devil gear really would’ve ruined that.”

“Foggy—“ Matt’s voice was low in warning, but Foggy ignored him. 

“Anyway, what happened last night? You never let us know if you two were ok.” 

“We’re fine. Snyder was being a bitch and it sent my fake girlfriend into a panic attack. Now, I’m sure you have a wonderful day with Marci to get back to and I have to get dressed for church.”

“HA! You think you can bullshit me, Murdock. Only a freshman in Matt-ology would believe that you attend regular Sunday mass. You prefer to go at night and speak directly to the clergy. What are you hiding in here?” Foggy set down his bagel, peering around corners as if expecting there to be a surprise hidden. 

“I’m not hiding anything, I just wasn’t expecting you.” Matt’s voice was hushed as he tried to herd Foggy out the door. 

“Am I not allowed to drop by anymore? What is going on with you?” 

Before Matt could respond, his bedroom door opened to reveal your startled face, which sat above an outfit picked entirely from Matt’s wardrobe, Foggy noticed.

A shit-eating grin broke out over Foggy’s face as he said your name. “Funny seeing you here.” 

You grimaced, “Hi, Foggy.” 

Matt made his way over to you. “Did we wake you up? I was trying to tell Foggy to be quiet.” 

“No, no!” You jumped in reassuringly. “I was already awake. And I’m—I’m sorry for falling asleep last night, I didn’t mean to crash here.” 

“Don’t apologize. I’m sure you were tired.” Matt ran a hand over your arm before pulling you into a hug. Clearly, they had forgotten that there was a captive audience. 

Foggy cleared his throat. “So…you slept here?” 

The two of you jumped apart. Matt stepped in front of you, “It’s not like that, Fog. I gave her my bed and slept on the couch.” 

“Hey, don’t need to explain anything to me. Anyway, glad to know you’re both alive. I, um, have a…thing.” Hurrying out of the apartment, Foggy rushed home to Marci. Their plot to unite two of their favorite people was actually coming together, despite the wrench Matt had thrown into the plans by nominating you as his fake partner. 

About a month after the gala, Foggy was seriously wondering if he’d been left out of the loop on Matt’s relationship status. You and Matt were hanging out more than ever and yet didn’t admit that you weren’t pretend-dating anymore. He supposed he would need to see evidence a bit more damning than Matt comforting a friend after a tough night or spending more time with them one-on-one, but he had his suspicions. 

Sitting in his apartment, mulling through paperwork as quickly as he could, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the events of that morning. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Matt had been tucked away in his office when he arrived. Foggy didn’t plan on staying for long, since he had intended to work from home that day, but he needed to grab some files that were relevant to the case he was working on. 

Eventually, Foggy heard a door open, and—assuming that Matt was leaving his office to finally greet him—he ran out into the central room. 

“Hey, Matt, I know I said I wouldn’t be in today, I just needed to grab the Anderson files.” Foggy spoke as he walked out of his own office. But, as he looked up, he realized that Matt was still in the other room. Instead, you stood before him, holding a brown paper bag and looking like he’d caught you breaking and entering. 

“Hey Foggy! I didn’t expect you to be here. Is Matt in…” you trailed off with a vague gesture. As you pointed to Matt’s office, his door opened, revealing the blind lawyer who faced you curiously. 

“Hey, I thought I heard you. What are you doing here?” Ignoring Foggy completely—the blond looking after him incredulously—he marched over to you, a crooked grin on his lips. 

“Well, I…um—“ You stuttered, very much unable to ignore Foggy at this moment. “Remember that bakery I told you about? The one that just opened up by the Pilates studio?”

Matt nodded and you continued. “I told you that I thought you’d like their almond croissants and, I don’t know, you mentioned that you had a bad night so I thought I’d bring you one to cheer you up.” You scuffed your shoes on the floor, no longer looking at Matt. 

“That’s so sweet of you.” Matt spoke, smiling at you softly. He was a bit shocked, but more than touched by the gesture. 

“And I’m really sorry, Foggy! I would’ve gotten you one but, when we chatted last night, Matt mentioned you wouldn’t be in today so I—“ 

“Hey, no problem! I have to run home anyway. Have a good day, my little lovebirds!” Foggy brushed off your concern. You squeaked, embarrassed at his comment. Foggy waved goodbye, and headed off, hearing Matt ask you if you wanted to split the pastry as he went. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Shaking his head at the memory, Foggy really hoped you two would come to your senses soon. 

A couple weeks after the croissant incident, Foggy found himself in desperate need of a break. 

“Matt, hurry up! Karen and I are thirsty!” Foggy rolled his eyes to the blonde as they waited for Matt to quit burning the midnight oil and go out with them. It was Friday, and they had just had a major breakthrough in their current case that had seemed unwinnable for weeks. 

“Alright, alright! I’m coming.” Matt shook his head fondly at his partners, grabbing his coat and cane. 

“Josie’s?” Karen questioned. 

Foggy snorted. “Do we ever go anywhere else?” He sent a text to you and Marci, letting you both know that you were invited to celebrate with them, though he did not expect Marci to take him up on that offer. 

“Why would we?” Matt grinned, taking Foggy’s arm as the three made their way to the dive bar they frequented. 

Arriving at Josie’s in record time, Karen offered to buy the first round while the guys grabbed a table. 

Foggy inhaled deeply. “Smell that, Murdock?” 

“Stale beer and vomit?” 

“No! The smell of our impending success!” 

“It doesn’t trouble you that your brain associates our success with vomit?” 

“Gah! You’re impossible!” Foggy threw his hands up as Matt smirked. 

“What did he do now?” Foggy cheered as he saw you approaching them. 

“You’ve gotta help me out. Your boyfriend is refusing to admit that we are going to win our case this week.” Foggy mock glared at Matt. 

You sat down next to Matt, laughing brightly as he began to argue. “I never said that! I said, it’s weird that you link our winning a case with such an unpleasant sensation.” 

“Oh god, we just got here and they’re already going at it.” Karen murmured to you as she returned with drinks, chuckling with fond exasperation. She handed you a beer and you accepted gratefully as you slid under the arm Matt moved around your shoulders. As you nestled into his side, he and Foggy continued to bicker about what winning should smell like. 

Eventually, Karen broke in and offered them their beers. Mostly for a moment of quiet, you assumed. Taking a drink, Matt turned to you. “How was your day, angel?” Karen and Foggy looked at each other, ‘Angel??’

“It was awesome, actually! My boss approved my proposal!” You sounded thrilled. 

“That’s fantastic!” Matt was beaming at you. “Did you get to show her the mock ups?” 

“I’m sorry,” Foggy cut in with a smile. “What proposal?” 

“Shit, I forgot I hadn’t told you and Karen! I’m sorry guys.” You grimaced sheepishly. “I had been noticing some recurring names when I sat in court this month so I did some digging and found 4 property managers that have dozens of documented issues. I’m talking constructive eviction, unhabitable units, actions in contempt, a whole mess of stuff. So I wanted to ask my boss if we could set up some clinics in the area for hearing counterclaim filing and to help people file a case against their landlord preemptively.” 

Matt’s focus was entirely on you as you spoke animatedly, absolutely ecstatic about your new project. 

“I had a solid framework but I was having a really hard time working up the nerve to ask her if I could do anything. Thankfully, Matt had some great ideas and helped me put together a whole presentation at dinner last week!” You grinned, looking up at him. 

“What dinner last week?” Karen inquired, her eyes flirting between the two of you as she barely concealed her knowing grin. 

“Oh!” You shifted in your seat slightly. “Well, we’ve been having dinner once or twice a week to—um—“

“Get to know each other!” Matt suggested, helpfully. 

“Exactly! In case we have another event and have to speak to people about each other, or whatever.”

“Right,” Foggy confirmed, eyebrows raised. “Well, I’m glad that it went well! And, that you’ve been getting this workaholic out of the office. I was wondering why he’s been so chipper lately.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that has more to do with this ‘impending success’ I keep hearing about.” You bit your lip, fidgeting with the half empty glass in your hand. 

“It’s not all work-related, sweetness.” Matt nudged you, grinning. 

You smiled into your beer, draining the rest of it. “Sure, Murdock. Though, I’m afraid you’ll have to try harder to sweet talk me into buying you another drink.” 

“Hmm, guess I’ll keep trying.” Matt followed you out of the booth, taking your arm as you both walked up to ask Josie for a refill. 

Karen gaped at Foggy. “You weren’t kidding!”

“I know!” Foggy said, throwing his arms towards the bar after their friends. “They don’t see it!”

Karen snorted. “We are in for a world of hurt.” 

After the group had chatted for a bit, Foggy suggested that you and Matt play him and Karen in pool, to “settle the smell of success debate once and for all”. Everyone seemed excited about the proposition, but you hesitated. 

“I’ve never actually played pool before.” You admitted to Matt, quietly, as Karen and Foggy got the table set up. 

“That’s alright, pretty girl. I’ll just have to teach you.” He flicked your chin softly before raising his voice. “I promise it’s not that difficult to beat Foggy. I could do it with my eyes closed.” He jested, making you laugh. 

“How dare you insult my honor in front of this fair maiden!” Foggy crowed, feigning chest pain. “I’m hurt, truly hurt!” 

You giggled at their antics, sliding out from the booth and pulling Matt with you. “Better teach me fast, Matty. I have a feeling Nelson won’t be taking it easy on me.” 

While Foggy and Karen were having a good time battling you two in pool, it was becoming almost irritating to watch the two of you flirt and exchange soft touches without acknowledging the authenticity of your relationship. Matt kept holding your waist to help you position the pool cue, giving you a kiss on the cheek when any of the balls landed in a pocket. And, as the two of you became more tipsy throughout the evening, you started sitting atop of Matt’s lap, playing with his hair and resting your nose against his cheek, while waiting for Foggy or Karen to finish a turn. 

It was adorable, sure, but aggravating nonetheless because anytime someone questioned it, you and Matt brushed it off as ‘keeping up appearances’. 

As you lined up your cue to take the final shot, Matt announced your intentions for you. “8 ball, far right corner pocket.” Giving the cue ball a firm tap, the 8 ball sailed into its intended receptacle. 

You and Matt cheered as Foggy and Karen yelled in frustration. As you gave him a hug, Matt twirled you around. 

“Great job, angel. I’m so proud of you!” He pressed a kiss to your hairline. You leaned into him, treasuring the moment. 

Foggy and Karen just shared a look, shaking their heads, before Foggy asked “Anyone up for a rematch?” 

Foggy, Karen, and Matt were tiredly running over their case notes for the upcoming Jones trial. Their last few cases had all gone well, but this case was incredibly taxing. They were having a hard time getting their two key witnesses to cooperate, and the judge had denied their request for a continuance which squished the timeline in a less than optimal direction. 

Sighing, Foggy rubbed at his eyes. “Is there anyway we could get the sister on the stand? She was so much easier to work with.” 

“There’s no way we’d be able to prepare her in time.” Matt grumped, tension headache steadily brewing. 

Karen closed her laptop with a frustrated sigh. “Alright gentlemen, I don’t know about you but I will be absolutely useless if I keep working at this without food. Dinner?”

“Yah let’s go grab a pizza and give our poor minds a break.” Foggy rubbed Matt’s shoulder, hoping the idea of food would be enough to tempt him away from his computer. 

“You two go ahead, I’ll see if I can find a weakness in the opposing argument here.” 

“Matt, c’mon—“ Foggy pleaded. 

“It’s fine. I’m on the verge of a breakthrough, I can feel it…” Matt turned back to his computer, putting headphones in his ears before hearing his friends’ responses. 

Foggy simply gave Karen an exaggerated eye roll before the two headed out to grab dinner. 

The pizza place wasn’t too far from their office, so they fully expected Matt to be honed in on his case notes when they returned, but instead he was leaning against the table in the conference room. His phone held against his ear, Matt had a small grin on his face as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. It must have been you. No one else could break Matt’s intense focus so easily. 

Foggy and Karen were as quiet as possible as they brought the food into the conference room. Matt’s grin fell a bit as they entered. 

“Ok sweetness, Nelson and Page are back with food so I have to go. Call me when you get home safe tonight…yah I know you will. Love you.” Matt ended the call, placing his phone on the table.

“I found a clerical error in the original filing of the case. Should help us at least weaken the validity of the prosecution's claims.”  It was dead silent for a moment before Matt prompted “Are we going to eat or have we taken those pizzas hostage?” 

Foggy pried his jaw from the floor, looking to Karen who appeared equally shocked. “No, uh, we can eat. Yah, let’s eat.” Foggy set the boxes down as Karen rummaged around for some plates. She gave him a pointed look, her eyes swiveling between him and Matt. 

Internally debating whether to ask Matt about the terminology used at the end of his phone call, Foggy opened his mouth but Matt held up a hand. “Before you even start, she was out with friends at a bar. We both agreed to act like a couple when in public and she explicitly told me she was ok with it.” The blind man turned to his work with a barely noticeable glower, clearly exasperated by his friends’ questioning. 

“See, buddy, that’s cool and all, but you do see how this looks right?” Foggy nervously took a bite of pizza, eyeing the other man. 

“What, like I’m forcing her to say things she’s uncomfortable with? That I’m holding her back from finding someone she actually wants to be with? Yes, Foggy, I’m aware.” Matt’s scowl deepened. “I beat myself up about it constantly. I really don’t need you both breathing down my neck about it too.” 

“Wait, Matt, you think that’s what we’ve been talking about?” Karen prompted, clearly as taken aback as Foggy felt. She placed a hand on Matt’s arm in a gesture of comfort. “We’re not worried that you’re making her uncomfortable.” 

“And we certainly aren’t worried that you’re holding her back!” Foggy added. “Why on earth would you think we were worried about that?”

“Clearly you are! That morning after the gala when you rushed out after seeing she was still there, you were biting your tongue the whole time, Fog!” Matt ran his hands through his hair in distress. “It’s like everytime one of you sees us together, you’re always pointing out the illegitimacy of our relationship or calling us a name. Not to mention, the night at Josie’s where you and Karen were frustratedly saying I was causing a ‘world of hurt’?” Fully pacing now, Foggy had to stand to stop the other man from wearing a tread in their carpet. 

“Matt, that’s not what we’ve been trying to say.” Foggy broke in, slowly. 

A muscle in Matt’s jaw twitched. “Really, because everytime she gets nervous around me, we suddenly end up alone. If you couldn’t bear to watch what I was doing, you at least could’ve told me that you thought I was hurting her if it was so hard to watch.” He turned away, biting his bottom lip in irritation. 

“What we meant when we said those things,” Karen jumped in, also coming to stand in front of Matt. “Was that it seems like the two of you aren’t fake dating anymore. It seems like you’re actually dating and you don’t realize it. And, you aren’t making her uncomfortable, Matt. She adores you.” 

Matt’s nostrils flared as conflicting emotions danced across his face. “Matt, buddy, all this time you’ve been chastising yourself for holding her back? Have you stopped to consider that she might enjoy being with you?” Foggy reached out to squeeze his friend’s shoulder, but the other man pulled out of his grasp, pacing again. 

“Enjoy being with me? That’s fucking rich.” He bit out. “She’s so smart and funny and thoughtful and—“ his voice was breaking now. “All I’ve done since I brought her into this was get her hurt. She’s way too good to be stuck with me.” 

Snatching his red glasses, cane, and computer, Matt huffed before throwing a few sheets of paper down on the table. “Here’s the court's error for the Jones case. I need some air. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Matt stomped out the door, Foggy and Karen guiltily watching him go. 

“Ok, we may have done some damage here.” Foggy grimaced. 

“How did we not realize that their own doubts are shaping their interpretation of this?” Karen groaned.

“It’s an embarrassing oversight, I’ll admit.” Rubbing at the back of his neck, Foggy turned to her. “The question is now, do we go after him?” 

“No. He needs to work it out on his own.” Karen stared back at her friend glumly. 

“Ugh. You’re probably right.”

End Notes: A huge thanks to @acewritesfics and @samspenandsword for sharing the beautiful post dividers!

Tag List: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle

[kittenofdoomage]

Gamblin' Man

Summary: He’s not going to let it drop, not until he gets what he wants.

Prompt: John Winchester, in church, vibrating panties

Pairing: John Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: 3924

Warnings: sexual wagering, smut, sex toys/vibrating panties, inappropriate public behavior (in a church, and other places), teasing, edging, unprotected smut, exceptionally brief anal play, begging, dirty talk/degrading language, fluff (sorta), slight Daddy kink, age gap (reader is around Dean’s age), hunting (canon-level violence and gore).

Dedicated to @impala-dreamer who always encourages dirty John thoughts.

AO3 Link

The wet thud of the werewolf’s head on the ground was more satisfying than it probably should have been, but you and John had been tracking the pack for over a week now, so it was a good feeling to finally put them down. They had left a trail of carnage across the Midwest, leading you on a hell of a chase; you hadn’t even been sure how many of them there were.

A gunshot made you turn just as the last werewolf dropped from the silver bullet, revealing John standing behind him. You grinned, lifting up your machete triumphantly. “And you said I wouldn’t need this.”

He chuckled, walking over to the decapitated monster, putting a single silver round in his chest just to make sure. “You lost,” he pointed out.

The comment made you frown. “Huh?”

“You said it was four at most.”

“Really?” you asked pointedly. “You’re holding me to that.”

“Bet your sweet ass I am,” he smirked. “We shook on it.”

“I thought you were joking.”

“Well I wasn’t.”

With a groan, you turned away, surveying the scene. There had been six werewolves altogether. The other four were inside the house, and you knew there was no leaving until the two on the lawn were inside with them, and the whole building was torched. Luckily, the farmhouse was miles away from town, so the fire wouldn’t be noticed quickly.

John didn’t press the subject of the bet while you covered up the slaughter, and by the time you were in the truck on the way back to the motel, you could barely keep your eyes open. He waited, of course, until you were inside, closing the door and locking it.

“About my winnings,” he started.

You grunted, turning your head to look at him in disbelief. “Seriously. It was a joke, we didn’t even say how much.”

“I’m not after money.”

The way he said it gave you pause, but you were far too tired to continue with any bartering. It was nearing dawn, and you needed a few hours of sleep before getting into conversations about supposed bets. Not that he’d let it go even when you woke up.

“John, I’m exhausted. If I agree you won, can we just go to bed?”

His smirk widened. “Fine. As long as you agree to whatever I want.”

“Whatever,” you yawned, barely managing to get your pants off before you tumbled into the covers, “just lemme sleep.”

It took only a few minutes for you to doze off, just long enough for you to feel the dip of the bed as he climbed in behind you, one strong arm encircling your waist. You smiled and slipped into unconsciousness, forgetting all about the bet.

His warmth was gone the next morning when you woke to the sound of the door closing. You sat up and yawned, smiling sleepily as John as he approached with a drink in one hand and a bag with a cartoon bagel on it in the other. “Breakfast,” he offered, handing it over.

You opened the bag, inhaling the deliciously warm scent from inside. “Mmm, thank you.” Eating in bed only seemed uncomfortable, and you needed to pee anyway, so you got out, dropping your food and drink onto the table before heading for the bathroom. When you came out, John was at the table waiting, sipping his usual black coffee.

“Where are we heading today?” you asked, pulling out your breakfast.

He tapped a folded paper next to his unwrapped sandwich. “Duluth. Got a lead on something. Flimsy but it’s enough.”

Biting into your bagel, you groaned at the taste, chewing slowly to enjoy it. “These are almost as good as the ones in that little deli we found - where was it?”

“Colorado. Brent’s Bagels.”

“Yeah. We haven’t been to Colorado in ages.”

He chuckled, watching you as you ate, a pensive expression on his face like he was waiting to say something. You didn’t pay much attention to it, too hungry to think beyond filling your stomach. Once the last bite was gone, you licked your fingers clean, then looked at him properly, smiling brightly.

“You haven’t forgotten what we talked about last night?” he murmured, leaning back with one hand on the table.

You rolled your eyes, picking up your drink. “No,” you replied.

“Good. Because I decided what I want.”

The way he said it made you guess that whatever he wanted was sexual in nature and you weren’t surprised. Despite his stoic outward attitude, in private John had the capability to be incredibly kinky, and there wasn’t much you’d let him do that you didn’t enjoy. No doubt he’d thought about what he wanted a lot, and you knew when he got up to go for his bag, that he had definitely thought ahead.

He pulled something from the duffel, turning around and returning to drop it on the table. It was a rectangular box with a female model on the front, showcasing the contents - a single pair of black panties. You picked them up, reading the box, realizing quickly that they were vibrating panties.

Looking up at him, your eyebrows lifted. “Really? You want me to wear these?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Right now?”

“Twenty-four hours.”

“John -”

“I can pick something else if you like,” he interrupted, the leer on his face getting a little wider. “And I got plenty of ideas, sweetheart.”

The expression on his handsome features spoke volumes - this was probably the least of the ideas he’d come up with, and John Winchester was not short on imagination where it came to sex. You swallowed, looking at the box again, still thinking of excuses.

“I can’t wear these if we’re on a case,” you stuttered. “What if we get into a fight with something?”

He chuckled, pulling the remote out of his pocket. “It’ll only go off as long as I’m holding the button,” he explained. “You won’t even notice them.” Pulling the panties from the box, you ran your fingers over the soft material. “See,” he prompted, “inconspicuous.”

You sniffed, your hesitation clear. “How loud are they?”

“Baby girl,” he chided. “I’m a little more subtle than that.”

Fixing your gaze on him, you pulled a face, remembering just how subtle he’d been when he’d fucked you in the parking lot of a Denny’s, right over the back of his truck. “Not always.”

“I promise,” he reached out to take your hand, “no one will know except you and me.”

He wasn’t wrong about how discreet the panties were. Before you’d put them on, you’d asked him to turn them on, just to see how loud they were, and you had to admit, for how powerful the vibration was, they were fairly quiet. Once you had them on, you found them to be comfortable and soft, and though you could feel the pad of the vibrating insert pressed up against you, it was no worse than a sanitary towel.

Of course, John had to test them out. The sudden vibration had shocked you, and after only a few seconds, you felt flustered and aroused, and John chuckled as he turned them off and pocketed the remote.

A four-hour drive only provided him with more “testing” time. He’d tried every setting, taking great pleasure in watching you writhe in the passenger seat of his truck, trying to catch you off guard with it. By the time you reached Duluth, your pussy was aching, desperate to be filled by something, anything, so you could cum.

“How are you feeling?” John asked, pulling the truck into the parking lot of the latest motel you’d call home.

“I hate you,” you shivered, still panting from his last round of torture.

He laughed, and you scowled, folding your arms across your chest and ignoring him as he got out of the truck. You waited while he checked in, and when he returned with the key, he was still smirking. “Let’s go,” he ordered, grabbing his bag from the back seat.

“What’s our first stop?” you asked, still slightly bitter as you climbed out of the truck.

“All three victims were members of a local church group. I figure we start there.”

“Great.”

You hated wearing the fed suit, and having vibrating panties on underneath them didn’t make it any better, but John didn’t set them off again. Working a case made distraction easy, and you’d almost forgotten about your kinky underwear when you followed him into the church where a choir was practicing loudly. He took the lead, engaging with a priest by the name of Father Teddy, introducing himself as Agent May and you as Agent Taylor.

“Apologies for the noise,” Father Teddy said, leading you away, but not far enough that you couldn’t hear them. “Unfortunately, the good acoustics in here mean that the sound is inescapable.”

“Ah, it’s not a problem,” John drawled, all charm. His hand snaked into his pocket, and you went still, hoping he wasn’t going to -

The panties buzzed to life. You tried to keep your composure, focusing on the questions that John was asking, but after a few minutes, you were feeling the heat in your face and the wetness the vibration was provoking. There was a pew behind you, and you took a slight step back to grab it, hoping to stave off the quivering in your thighs. John’s eyes slid to you, the curve of his lips turning gleeful as you shuddered from head to toe.

Your action caught Father Teddy’s attention, the absolute last thing you wanted to happen when you could feel the buzzing get stronger, your pussy gushing in response.

“Are you alright, Miss?” the priest asked softly, reaching out one hand to you when you gripped the pew tightly to balance yourself. “You look a little flushed.”

The choir rose to a louder volume on the final chorus and you fixed a shaky grin on the elderly gentleman. “I think I need a little air,” you gasped, turning your attention to John with an urgent look. “Agent May?”

John was barely containing his smirk, and the vibration at your core ceased as he pulled his hand out of his pocket. “Thanks for your help, Father.”

The priest nodded, though he seemed thoroughly concerned with your disheveled state. “Of course, Agent. If there’s anything else I can help with, please let me know.” His head turned to you again. “I hope you feel better soon, Agent Taylor.”

Your smile was tight and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough now your composure was returning. You hurried down the carpeted walkway, bursting out of the huge oak doors with John hot on your tail, his mirth bubbling to the surface once you were outside. Whirling on him, you slapped at his shoulder, scowling when he only laughed harder.

“You’re an ass.”

“What?” he snorted through his laughter. “He didn’t know what was going on!”

“We were in a church,” you seethed, almost hissing at him. “Ugh, you’re such a pig.”

“Didn’t seem like you weren’t enjoying it,” he retorted, voice turning to a low rumble that had exactly the effect on you that he was expecting. With a strained groan, you turned away, striding to the car with the intent of ignoring him, but you’d forgotten one thing.

He still had the remote.

The panties buzzed to life, and the shock of it made you gasp and trip; the truck door broke your fall, palms holding your weight against the sun-warmed window as John turned the vibration up to max. You sucked in oxygen, the arousal you’d felt moments before in the church returning ten-fold.

John approached slowly, and you saw him look around in the glass reflection in front of you before he pressed up against your back, running the hand not on the remote down your side and over your hip. “Tell me how wet you are now, baby girl.”

Your breath fogged against the glass. “J-John -”

“Uh-uh,” he scolded, letting his hand slide around to your front, holding steady right over where the panties were driving you crazy. “You said you’d play the game, princess, and I’m not done yet.”

You moaned, unable to stop your hips rutting back against him. Even though it was broad daylight and outside a church, you would have given anything to have him take you right there. His name left your lips again, needier this time, a higher pitch to reflect the want in your core.

“You still got eighteen hours,” he reminded you, and you exhaled a shaky cry as the vibration stopped, but John didn’t move away. “How about a new deal?”

You didn’t move. “What?”

He chuckled again, grazing his lips over the back of your neck. “I bet you can’t last the whole twenty four hours,” he taunted. “I bet, you break before it’s even dark, and beg me to fuck that pretty little pussy until you can’t see straight.”

A lump formed in your throat, a mixture of your desire to get fucked and your reluctance to let him “win”. “W-what do I get if I win?”

“What do you want?”

You had no idea, scrambling to think of something, anything. “Uh -”

“Why don’t you think on it?” he murmured, lips against the shell of your ear now. “We still got witnesses to interview anyway.”

“John,” you whispered desperately.

“What?”

“Please don’t use it when we’re talking to people,” you begged, turning in his hold when he gave you the space. You looked up at him pleadingly. “I can’t… I can’t think straight when I’m horny. It’s dangerous.”

His smile dropped away, genuine concern on his handsome face. He lifted his hand, caressing your jaw gently. “I promise, baby girl. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” You smiled, placing your hand against his chest and leaning into him. “Can’t say it wasn’t adorable to see you all flustered like that though.”

You groaned, ducking out of his hold to walk around the truck to your side. “You’re an asshole.”

It took around four hours for you to realize you weren’t going to win. He’d behaved around the witnesses, though you couldn’t say the same for the trip to the morgue, after which you’d decided you needed a break, and persuaded him to let you go to the grocery store while he checked out the town’s history. The hunt was most likely a spirit, and no one had died yet, so the need to find whatever or whoever it was wasn’t as pressing.

Your hour alone was blissful, and you picked up enough supplies for a few days, finishing up way before John was supposed to pick you up. There was a bench outside, far enough away from the entrance that no one would bother you, so you took advantage of the pleasant afternoon sunshine to wait for him.

Around five minutes after you had sat down, the vibrator in your panties began to buzz lightly. Your head shot up, eyes scanning the lot for his truck, but there were too many larger vehicles obstructing others to be sure he wasn’t there. Maybe the damn thing was malfunctioning.

The buzzing got stronger, and you tried to ignore it, gritting your teeth as you clutched the edge of the bench, still looking for him. It had to be him, and he was fucking with you again, probably watching you gleefully. You wanted to get up and go look for him, but you couldn’t focus, panting heavily as the vibration only grew more intense.

Grabbing your phone, you couldn’t help the whine that left your lips, drawing a curious stare from an employee wheeling carts back to the store. You could barely type a message out, telling him to stop, and you were relieved when only a second later, the panties stopped, except your whole body was still electrified from the stimulation. Looking up, you spotted his truck, pulling out from behind a large white van; he was on the phone, smirking at you infuriatingly as he drove closer.

“Thanks, Bobby,” was all you heard as he rolled to a stop and hung up. “You look a little flustered, princess. This thing’s got good range, huh?”

You glared at him, dumping the groceries in the back before climbing in without a word. He only laughed, pulling away from the curb as you stewed beside him.

The back roads were quiet. You stared out of the window, feeling your irritation fading. John hummed along to the radio, both hands on the wheel where you could see them. After a while, he looked at you, a hint of concern in his voice when he spoke. “You know,” he began softly. “If this is really that bad, we can stop. It’s not exactly fun if you’re not enjoying it.”

You clenched your jaw then relaxed it. “I don’t wanna stop,” you muttered, twisting in your seat. “I just wanna cum.”

His eyes widened, then a smile spread across his face. “That’s why you’re all grumpy?” 

“I’m not grumpy,” you growled. “I’m horny. If I’d known it was gonna be this bad, I’d have… fuck…” You threw your head back against the seat, groaning loudly at your own stubbornness. It wouldn’t be hard to just let him win, let him fuck you, to just beg for him like he wanted.

“All you gotta do is ask,” John drawled casually, reaching into his pocket. “If you think about it, you’re torturing yourself.”

The panties came to life, buzzing against your sensitive sex. You cried out, grabbing for the door as if it would ground you, even though it did nothing as he turned the vibration up. “John!”

“Say the magic words, baby, and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

“You’re an -” You grunted when he turned them up to the highest level. “ -aaaaass.” The word turned into a low moan, and you ground yourself into the seat, fruitlessly seeking more friction. 

He wasn’t even watching you, keeping his attention on the road. “Now I just wanna see if you can get off like this,” he murmured. “But I gotta admit,” he shifted in his seat, “I’m starting to get uncomfortable.”

Speaking felt impossible. Your whole body was alight with desire, and you could taste your orgasm, within reach. The truck moved to the left onto a bumpier road, which only added to your torment.

“John,” you groaned, too far gone to even consider holding your ground. “Oh, Jesus, fuck, John…”

“Got something you wanna ask, baby girl?”

You cried out, nodding as the truck came to a stop. “Fuck me, please, I can’t -” The buzzing stopped. “Oh -”

He was out of the driver’s seat in the next second, and you barely had time to realize what was happening before your door was flung open, and his strong hands were hauling you from the seat. You ended up on your front, legs dangling out of the truck, hips pressed against the edge as John pulled your pants and the panties down to your ankles.

The sudden realization of where you were made you panic. “John, wait, where -”

“No one can see,” he promised, shoving you down when you tried to lift up. The sound of his zipper lowering made you shudder, and you looked over your shoulder as he fisted his cock, drawing it free from his pants. “I need that tight little cunt wrapped around my dick.”

He didn’t waste time, stroking two thick digits through your slick folds and sinking them into you, groaning when he felt how wet you were. You gasped and then whined, clinging to the seat as he twisted his fingers inside you. “J-John!”

“Fuck, princess, you’re soaked,” he chuckled, working his hand back and forth. “Gonna make you cum on Daddy’s cock.” Pulling his hand free, he slapped your bare ass, then pressed the thick blunt tip to your dripping hole.

You weren’t sure if it was the constant arousal or just him, but it felt bigger than usual, the stretch of accommodating him making you struggle to think straight. He stopped when his cock met slight resistance, pulling back to coat himself in your juices a little more before trying again. This time, he penetrated you completely, and you cried out when his groin met your ass, whimpering as he held himself as deep as possible with a sigh of relief.

“You feel fucking fantastic,” he groaned, rubbing one hand over your ass. “Should get you strung out more often. You’re so tight around me, gonna milk me dry. You want that, baby girl? Wanna be my horny little cockslut?”

It was hard to talk with the pressure in your belly, the pleasure of being so filled making your train of thought completely derail. All you could manage was a grunt of a “yes”, and he laughed in return, rutting against you.

“Look at you,” he purred, beginning to pull back a little more, thrusting lightly. “All cockdrunk, ready to be used, huh?”

You nodded listlessly, hovering on the edge of your climax, sure you’d fall apart any second. John started to move faster, holding you down with one hand when he leaned back to look down and watch your body take him over and over. The sound of how wet you were filtered through the blood rushing in your ears, and you couldn’t stop your eyes rolling back.

“Lemme feel it,” he murmured, tugging his shirt up when it got in his way. “Lemme feel you squeeze me, princess.”

His strokes got harder, almost forcing you across the seat. You cried out over and over, unable and unwilling to do anything but let him use you, and within seconds, your pussy was fluttering around him, the pleasure curling into an almost unbearable throb in your core.

“That’s it,” he praised, grazing his thumb across your asshole.

The dam inside you broke. Your cries turned silent, body shuddering from head to toe as you came, feeling the upholstery underneath you grow damp. John groaned, tipping his head back, fucking into you harder and harder, leaving you dazed as he used you. Finally, he slammed into you, his grunts stuttering as you felt his cum fill you to overflowing, dripping down your thighs.

He slumped forward, panting out a laugh against your back. “Fuck,” he groaned.

“Uh-huh,” you managed, mouth slack against the seat. There was a ringing in your ears and your heart was pounding; if you were honest, you wanted nothing more than to sleep.

With a groan, he moved, withdrawing and leaving you where you were hanging. You were exposed and ruined, and despite the somewhat open area he’d chosen to take you in, it was hard to get yourself to move.

“I guess we should get on with this case,” he said, buttoning up his pants as you pulled yourself off of the seat, trying to fix your pants.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, yawning as you attempted to make yourself look like you hadn’t just gotten yourself fucked in a picnic area. Failing, you stumbled back, using the truck for some stability when your head swam. “Fuck, I don’t think my legs work anymore.”

John laughed, coming closer and leaning in to kiss you. “Guess I’m doing the digging.”

“You bet your ass you are,” you grumbled.

He grinned. “You sure you wanna be making more bets, sweetheart? I mean, I’m a gamblin’ man -”

You groaned and hauled yourself into the truck. “Never again.”

Let me know what you think ☺ thanks for reading!

[mangoshorthand]

Flesh and Blood- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch1 (Hard Feelings Part 3)

SUMMARY: As Christmas approaches, everything between you and Five is perfect...until a destructive temporal anomaly gets in the way. Five is convinced another permutation of himself is to blame. Nothing's simple when you're in a relationship Five Hargreeves: could your loyalties be tested in a way unique to him? On to Chapter 2 >>

Chriiissstmmaaassss.

Chapter One: Another Apocalypse

It’s Saturday morning. When you left him, the bedroom window and curtains were cracked so that pale-toned winter sunlight bathed the bed in a slanting shard. The chilly air felt pleasant on your skin and clean in your lungs, warm as you both were between the bedclothes.

He was asleep with his head turned from you, the light and shadow falling on his face. The fine hairs on his neck stood on end with the cold air. He had been snoring very lightly. The rays of light and very slight breeze tangled in his hair, fluttering it occasionally. You might have wanted him to wake, yet you could also watch him sleep for hours; you could be happy here, feeling his warmth. 

But your bladder was no respecter of such sentimentality. It soon became imperative to leave the bed. After relieving yourself and taking a painkiller for a threatening headache, you’d make your way down to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.

You try to be quiet as you re-enter the bedroom but he stirs almost immediately.

“Mmm…coffee?” his voice is hazy.

“Yep. Good morning.”

“Morning, dear one. C’mere”

You put down the breakfast tray and rejoin him on the bed. He wraps his arms around you and you lay your head on his chest. He puts his mouth and nose against your hair and inhales. 

It's been a blissful six months since the JUICED scandal. Since you started paying the (largely symbolic) rent to Reginald's estate, you'd felt better; stronger. As a result there's a new feeling between you; you can riff, harmonize and improvise around one another like a string duo- switching who plays the base notes as needed. True, it's not as if he's been seriously tested again since the JUICED scandal but, so far, it's been...nice.

Again, the breeze plays around your entwined bodies. He’s sure he can feel the rush of serotonin as he breaths in your scent…serotonin or love; call it what you want. 

"How are you today?" he asks.

"Another headache."

"Really?" You can hear the worry in his voice.

"I took a painkiller: it's fine." then, to distract him, “How about we go out today?"

He grunts.

“Gonna need at least three coffees.”

You extract yourself from his arms and bring him over a cup. He takes a grateful sip.

“Ahhh. That’s good. Do I smell bagels?”

You hand him one plate and grab your own, sitting back down beside him with your own mug. For a few minutes, you eat and drink in companionable silence. Then, with your breakfast eaten, you turn to him.

“Shall we go Christmas shopping?”

He groans, “I think I'd rather scoop out my own testes with a grapefruit spoon.”

“I could arrange that for you?”

He grumbles. You kneel on the bed and swing one leg over him.

“Watch it!” he puts his coffee cup on the nightstand to avoid you knocking it out of his hands. 

You sit on his knee, facing him.

“Come on,” you wheedle, “we can go and get cocoa and walk in the park and go to the German markets.”

“Kill me,” he groans but he’s smiling too, bringing his hands to your hips.

“You’re the one with the huge family to buy for. Let’s get all our gifts out of the way.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Fine.”

“Yes!” you say, pumping your fist, “but you have to promise not to be surly. Ooh, and let’s go ice skating!”

“NO ice skating!”

You laugh and kiss him. He responds enthusiastically, laughing a little into your mouth.

“I gotta draw the line at ice skating but I’ll do the rest.” 

Five’s enjoying himself more than he wants to admit. Today, your joy is infectious in a way that makes you radiant. 

His Christmases since arriving home had always been participated in out of obligation. He’d only really bought gifts for his nephew- he and his brothers didn’t often exchange them, although they all got together for a meal. 

Though he’d been with you last year, you were still recovering in hospital from your encounter with Michael Monroe so hadn’t been able to go Christmas crazy...which he's just learning is natural to you.

Despite feeling slightly sick from the glühwein, this is undeniably pleasant. He even found himself fully engaged in picking out a gift for Lila, of all people. He'd even gone so far as to recommend one bracelet over another- and it was the bracelet he thought Lila would like more, too. 

Now he’s standing in a store debating the merits of various gingerbread houses. He's laden with all your shopping bags as well as his own because you keep leaving them on the floor in your excitement to make the next purchase. If he were a less cynical man, he might call this adorable rather than annoying.

While Five valiantly tries to remain cynical, it’s hard. God knows he is not an easily led man, yet he's helplessly borne along in the wake of your excitement.

"It's style over substance,"  he says, indicating the giant gingerbread house you're standing beside, "if it's gonna get eaten then it's the taste that matters. Santi will demolish whatever we buy in five minutes anyway so what's the point?"

When you look at him, you're impassioned to a point that makes him want to laugh.

"Your shitty-ass gingerbread house doesn't even have a second floor. This is a gothic revival gingerbread house. Look at the windows! Look at the little wreath on the door! Look at the roof gables!"

"You're gonna eat it, not move in....and it's ninety dollars!"

"Oh fuck off. I've seen your bank balance, Five Hargreeves. This is Christmas."

He shakes his head at the absurdity of it all.

"You know, for an atheist with criticisms of capitalism, you're pretty into this."

You pout, forcing a smile from him. Despite this, he still tries to dissuade you.

"You know it will have gone stale by Christmas, anyway.

"You think I’m stupid? I'm not saying we get one now. I'm thinking to PRE-ORDER."

You give him a look of impatient, electrified enthusiasm, shining eyes bulging out of your head, eyebrows in your hairline and corners of your mouth turning down. You look entirely mad.

And then he’s impelled to take action by something stronger than his reason.

“You want to meet me on the square in an hour?” he asks

“Why?”

He tilts his head noncommittally. 

“Maybe I’ve got…stuff to buy.”

“Hmm. Ok,” you say, grabbing him by the front of his coat, “maybe I got stuff to buy too.”

Then, you kiss him briefly on the lips.

And there's your smell, your soft lips, your smile….

He doesn’t consciously know where his feet are taking him until he’s there and staring in the window. How the hell has he come to this?

He’s not an easy man to buy for. His birthday back in October was tricky enough. He’s been experimenting more recently with clothing beyond suits...but you don’t just want to buy him a shirt or something: he's not your Dad. You find yourself in an antique bookstore with creaky floorboards. It smells strongly of furniture polish and beeswax. The mahogany counter and bookshelves shine with them.

 It’s one of those places where the salespeople don’t fully trust you unless you look like a fellow collector. The tweed-suited man eyes you with benign suspicion as you enter. He takes his feet off his desk and stands to assist rather than letting you browse and potentially damage his stock.

“Good afternoon Ma'am."

"Hi," you smile.

"Are you looking for something in particular?”

“Uh- just a Christmas gift for my partner.”

The guy retains his polite smile, but you think you see something die behind his eyes nevertheless.

“Do you have anything in mind?”

You were overjoyed with your purchase.  It had set you back a pretty penny, but it was more than worth it when you imagined his face. By the end of the encounter, the salesman had become much more unctuous. 

One of the advantages of living all but rent-free in the family compound of an eccentric dead billionaire was being able to save pretty much your whole paycheck.This was aided by the fact that said paycheck had increased significantly a couple of months ago. 

You'd finally achieved the promotion you privately thought you'd deserved for eighteen months. You'd like to think that the higher-ups simply noticed all your hard work but this would be optimism to the point of stupidity. You'd become a bit of an office celebrity since the JUICED scandal.

The domino mask you'd worn at the press-conference did not shield your identity from those who already knew you. You knew the news footage had been widely shared between whispering co-workers. For weeks afterwards, you'd catch people looking from you to their computers and back again. In addition, Neil from HR told a pretty convincing story about how he'd seen you meet and be driven away by 'that Hargreeves boy from the papers' in a reconditioned Corvette Stingray. 

The book you'd bought for Five was a rare find and couldn’t be more perfect for him - it was beautiful, meaningful and came with that old-book smell that you’ve come to associate with him. 

He collects voraciously, spending hours re-stitching broken bindings and restoring or replacing worn endsheets. Having lived most of his life in a ruined library where most of the books had been completely destroyed, he hoarded books on almost any subject. The older they were, the more he valued them. He's never confirmed this, but you think that perhaps his love of these aging survivors is a deeply personal identification. 

Another headache has been threatening for the last quarter of an hour, so you sit down on a bench to wait for him. Shoppers pass with the bustle of human activity. You let your head lean forward a little and close your eyes.

And then, a rushing sound and whip-like crack.

You feel a ripple like electrical wind pass through your skin. Your stomach flips as if you’ve just missed a step walking downstairs. You and many of the people around you let out little exclamations of surprise- as you look sharply up, you see people's hair and shopping bags rustle as the almost-invisible force, (whatever it is), passes. A man standing a few feet away begins to scream. His body is caught in what looks like a film of blue light into which energy courses with a thrumming that hurts your already aching head. As he yells, fights and flails to free himself, it warps and flexes with his movements. Sparks fly with a rumbling sound like thunder. 

You only have time to gasp in horror before Five blinks into being, still holding shopping bags. He raises his arms in an instinctive protective gesture, one over his own head and the other holding you back and behind him. You both watch as, in under a second, the void consumes the shrieking man and collapses in on itself with a buzz and flumping sound. Dropping the bags, Five’s hand smacks against his forehead.

“SHIT.”

People around you scream, the man who had been beside the void’s victim panics and yells:

“Kevin! KEVIN?”

Five ignores him and looks wildly around. He scans the sky, the ground, surrounding buildings and then the crowd. His body language has taken on that frenetic energy that comes over him when on the job. He pats down his own body, searching urgently.

“Pen. I need a pen. Anything.”

You pat your pockets uselessly, knowing there’s nothing there either.

“Why don’t I carry pens?”, his hand flies back to his forehead he looks around desperately, before yelling, “SHIT!” again.

“What is it?”

“I don’t…it can’t be…wait- is this stage one? No…because then I wouldn’t have asked that. Or is that what I want me to think?” he scratches his neck distractedly, his face lined with mistrust.

“Five?”

He begins to pace.

“It was me. I felt it.”

“What?”

His wild eyes find yours. He hesitates for a fraction of a second and then tells you:

“That was my power. I know the feeling. I felt it from across the street. That-” he points at the yelling man, “-was me. That was one of my temporal portals. What the hell do I think I’m doing?"

His hands come out to feel the air in front of him in the direction of the vanished portal. He draws in breath through his nose as if searching for a scent.

"It feels...like nonsense." His eyebrows contract even tighter. Again, his eyes rove your surroundings and then, finding nothing, he yells with frustration. 

“WHERE ARE YOU, ASSHOLE?” he screams into the crowded street. After a few more moments of pacing, he snatches up the bags and grabs your hand.

“Come on, if he’s going to go anywhere, it'll be the Academy.”

Back at home, you sit downstairs in the living room. Five’s rapidly filling a notebook with scribbled calculations and mutters to himself compulsively. He’s been like this all the way home, speaking in random disconnected phrases that don’t mean anything and don’t seem to answer your questions: "Doesn't work with the fifth principle" or "Is this a Dallas permutation?"

“Five"

He jerks his head as if displacing an irksome fly.

"Can you explain this more?”

He holds up a finger imperiously and continues scribbling for a few seconds before looking up at you, his pen poised above the paper as if it’s taking all his self-control to pause its track across the page.  

“I will. I promise. Just give me a few minutes. Get them all here- all of my brothers. Now. We need a meeting,” he holds your eyes for a second, clearly seeking affirmation that this satisfies you for now. 

You nod your acceptance; your appreciation of this consideration. 

Five took a lot of persuading to join the Hargreeves family group chat, but since giving in, he’s been a solid contributor. Now, as you message the group, your message appears right below one from this morning in which he joked that he used Lila’s lost razor to shave his balls. 

You: Emergency meeting asap. Five says apocalypse-level shit. @all

Diego: Fuck.

Sloane: With you in 30 minutes

Viktor: Coming. 30 minutes too.

You: @Klaus??

Lila: Try the 3rd floor bathroom.

It took you having to nearly knock the door off its hinges to get Klaus to respond . He’d been listening to headphones and seemed mildly surprised when he popped his head around the door to find you looking exasperated. When, with a towel wrapped around his waist, you and he re-enter the living room, Lila and Diego are attempting to question an impatient Five, still scribbling incomprehensible math.

“Shut UP. I’m nearly done.”

Lila matches his exasperated tone.

“The hurry the fuck up!" 

Finally, he throws the book down and stands.

“Okay: I’ll explain it to the others when they get here. We all need to be on the lookout for another me.”

Klaus and Diego let out sighs of frustrated weariness as Lila says:

“Oh great. Younger or older?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is, there’s a version of me running around making real shitty time portals to suck up Christmas shoppers."

“Why would you do that?” Diego asks, as if stung at Five’s behavior.

“I. don’t. know." the toes of one foot begin to tap, "I just know it was my power and the math on the relativity vector is nonsense.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, sweeping it out of his eyes.

 “Time travel’s a crapshoot at the best of times but this…I’d barely even call this time travel. I doubt if that guy it caught even exists anymore. He’s probably in a thousand pieces all over the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.”

He turns to you, looking at you intensely.

“You were right there. Did you see where it came from? Did you see me?”

“No,” you say, “I felt it though. I felt it ripple.”

“Are you absolutely sure? Maybe a kid in the shorts, like in the painting? Or older, with a mustache, probably in a suit?”

You cast your mind back, “No, I didn’t see you. All I saw was the guy.”

He accepts this.

“All in all- this is not good. I know things are more flexible at the Commission now but Herb’s gotta be pissed about whatever I’m doing.”

He paces again, looking down at the last few pages of his notebook.

“This could be another apocalypse, people.”

“Really,” opines Klaus, “when I just got my hair nice?”

Again, Five sits behind his father’s desk across from Herb, whiskey poured for them both. He arrived within a second after Five used his personal pneumatic pipeline to contact him. 

“I have to tell you Number Five, so far, we’re as clueless as you on this. The switchboard gave us the alert about the temporal anomaly but that’s as much as we know.”

He sips his drink, looking troubled. “Can you give me any insight on why a version of you might be running these ‘experiments’?”

“Wish I could Herb. The equations as far as I can detect them make no sense. I would have told you that I’d never try it...if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

He pushes his notebook across the desk to Herb. He scrutinizes a few pages of calculations, face the picture of confused concern. When he's seen enough, he looks back up at Five. 

“You know we may have to take action on this.”

Five meets Herb’s eyes. It’s not a threat, not aggressive; he simply says it as an uncomfortable fact. 

“Well it’s not me me. It’s different timeline me. I can promise you I don’t intend to start spitting out nonsense woodchipper time portals,"

Five placed his glass down on the desk, leaned back and sighed.

"He’s just likely to give you a lot of trouble.”

Herb just drinks his scotch, not meeting Five's eyes.

You lie in bed together that night.

“I need you to be vigilant,” says his voice, out of the dark, “the other versions of me…part of my power means we can exist almost independently of each other across different timestreams if we do the right math. At least...theoretically. I can’t answer for my motivations under different circumstances.”

“What do you mean? Vigilant?”

He sighs, “It might be a version of me that wouldn’t care if he hurt you.”

You stay silent.

“Maybe from before I met you. Or it could just be a me who’s traveled back. So you need to keep your eyes open.”

“Ok.”

“I need you to watch me closely too. If the other me gets too close, I’m going to develop paradox psychosis. I thought I felt a bit of it today- it’s what made me sure I was nearby. Problem is, the first stage of the psychosis is denial, so I won’t be much help when the time comes."

"Huh?

"You shouldn't really be around your doppelgangers. It's not good for you. There are seven stages you need to be on the look out for." He holds up his hands and counts them off on his fingers. "We have denial, itching, extreme thirst and urination, excessive gas, acute paranoia, uncontrolled perspiration and then homicidal rage."

You laugh nervously, "Sounds like your average Saturday night."

"Very funny." he says, though unamused, "If you see any of the warning signs, we’ll know I’m around. Then we can assess the situation and do what has to be done. I'll need you to keep a close eye on me. I might get...unmanageable but if I'll listen to anyone, I'll listen to you. ”

You lie there silently. Your overtaxed mind races. Homicidal rage? Versions of Five that could hurt you? He rolls over and turns to you, you feel his breath on your cheek.

“I know this is a lot to get your head around. I haven’t myself. But we’ll manage. Whatever it takes.”

Under the sheets, his hand strokes your hip.

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves

On to Chapter 2 >> Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03.  Here is a link to the whole series

[frostbeees]

can we get an itid snippet🥺

well i suppose <3 i didn't get anything written today bc i've been sick (hello norovirus) but my fever is finally breaking sooo.

here's a little moment between thom and his sister. this takes place before the rookie showcase in DC (and after the breakup). sorry this is kind of a long one but it was too hard to trim it down bc i just LOVE this part

“You worried about having to spend time with Brendan again or is something else bothering you?” Jade asks as she picks through the pile of clothes closest to her, choosing pieces that she apparently thinks Thom needs to take with him as she places them into the suitcase. 

Thom drops the toothbrush he had just grabbed from his bathroom and it clatters to the ground. She’s always been blunt about feelings-talks and he wasn’t not expecting this to come up eventually but he definitely wasn’t expecting it today. 

“Okay so the first one,” she says, brow furrowed as she tries to read him from across the room. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Why would you even think that?” Thom asks carefully, trying to call her bluff. She doesn’t fold.

“You left for Cali in such a good mood and you came back in the form of a little storm cloud. We’ve all been tiptoeing around you for weeks and mom’s been bugging me to talk to you. Also, I’m pretty sure I saw you crying in your car in the driveway the other day when I was getting ready to leave for training so obviously something is up. You can talk to me about it, you know.” 

Thom takes in a deep breath. His chest rattles a little like maybe he’s coming down with something, a slight wheeze to the inhale. Maybe that would explain the tickle in his throat getting worse. 

“It’s—” Thom starts, pausing to shove a pile of clothes off the bed and onto the floor so he can flop down with his head near Jade’s legs. Her hand goes to his hair immediately which is exactly what he was hoping for, scratching softly against his scalp and sliding through to the ends. “He broke up with me. Or, well. I ended it with him before he could break up with me, I guess. I don’t fucking know. Either way, it’s over. He made it very clear he doesn’t feel the same way about me as I do about him.”

“Oh honey,” Jade slides down the bed and pulls Thom against her chest, arms firmly wrapped around him and his chest heaves as the tears finally break free and start falling steadily. “Fuck him then, honestly. You’re the best and if he can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

She’s just like their mom: soft and warm and welcoming with a touch of spice when needed. She’d probably fly to California to tackle Brendan in a way that would get her immediately booted from a game. That’s the only difference between Jade and their mom, really. Chantal has a sharp tongue. She can tear someone down in such a way that leaves them thanking her and then crying later. Jade, on the other hand, isn’t afraid to do a little physical beatdown when needed. Thom has the scars to prove it.

“Yeah, fuck him.” Thom’s a snotty mess against Jade’s soft sweatshirt but she makes no move to push him away or get up so he lets his little sister hold him until the tears dry up and his breathing steadies again.

He doesn’t mean it though, about Brendan. He doesn’t tell Jade that, too afraid of her trying to knock some sense in him or running off to get their mom involved if she thinks Thom’s being stupid. But it’s true. He still loves Brendan more than anyone he’s ever loved before. He’s still fucking pissed at him, but if Brendan called right this second and asked Thom to come back out to Manhattan Beach? To be with him again? Thom would go, easy.  

Jade doesn’t push him to talk about it anymore though. When Thom finally gets himself pulled back together he goes back to packing his bag and Jade sticks around for a while longer. Eventually, though,  she gets bored and leaves, but not before getting in another tight hug and securing a promise from Thom that they’ll get the good bagels for breakfast in the morning before he heads to the airport. 

[headingalaxys-sweet]

Songfic-JVKE

England x Reader

Darkness. That was the only thing that pervaded your senses and permeated your senses. Numb. You’d fallen deep into the black sea again. The pitchblack moonless nights that crept through your window only solidified the depressed state you were in.

You’d been here many times before. Torment mixed with the river of tears washed over your fresh wounds. The mere idea of staying awake was a difficult task. So, you opted to reach for the indigo pills on your nightstand and wandered over to the minifridge that you had installed in your room. The less you had to be vulnerable to the haunting eyes of your own mind projection the better.

You opted to grab the pomegranate juice that you’d bought a few days prior to wash down your sedatives. You took a long swig and slunk back to bed. Even after a solid 11-hours of uninterrupted sleep you still felt drained beyond belief. Your eyes dawdled over to your neon blue dial clock that read a quarter past 7. The sun had long bid farewell and the most you had gotten done that day was nibble on a bagel and send out an email to a professor explaining your delay in turning in your midterm essay. You had been given an extension for another week but you still couldn’t bring yourself to do any sort of work. So you went back to cowering in your soft cocoon. Maybe at some point you’d be able to fly.

*thump* Something had collided with your window but you didn’t even acknowledge it.

Your eyelids began to hang low and you allowed the rest of your body to relax. You tried to think of only darkness and not the hundreds of mistakes that continued on a constant replay. All shouted at you in your mind. Letting you only know that it’s all you’ll ever be. Thousands of dreams that can be because you're broken and nothing else matters.

*thump* *thump* Still the attempts for the outside to catch your attention was still futile.

You inhale the inky black air to distract from the battle that was raging on the inside. You were exhausted. There was not much more that your soul could give. So you laid there eagerly awaiting for the indigo pills to work their magic and at least temporarily take you out of your misery.

*thump* *thump* *thump* Yet and still your foggy mind did not acknowledge attempts from below. They had a message but now was time to try a different route.

As you waited for the numbing effects to set in you heard a melody creep in. Its angelic jubilant melody with a slow pace began to crescendo as the seconds began to tick by. You laid there just listening to it.

‘Probably someone just throwing a party nearby. But that music does sound nice though.’ Your foot began to shake along to the rhythm. It fully has your undivided attention. ‘Maybe I can play this song when I get up to work on my essay.’ With curiosity beginning to get the better of you finally decided to move from your sad lumpy blanket cocoon. You didn’t want to let your covers go as you felt like it was one of the only things that could protect you. As it draped off your shoulders and hugged loosely around your form you were curious to see if Siri could help you find and save the melody for later. As you approached your window and looked below the sight of bubbles, fairydust, and specks of sunlight everywhere. It looked like a happy ending of a fairytale where nothing bad ever happened again. Everyday would be happy. Sadness nonexistent.

Your blankets spread far behind you just like that of a butterfly gently beginning brushed by a strong summer breeze.

The gentleman that was the catalyst to all of this stood before you in his royal red and white outfit. His verdant eyes were a light with a magical glow. It was hypnotic to you and all of your senses. The British boy you knew as Arthur sang to you a poem that he wrote for you. It was an ode to you. He adored you. And his lyrics made sure you were aware of that.

I was all alone with the love of my life

She’s got glitter for skin

My radiant beam in the night

I don’t need no light to see you

Shine

It’s your golden hour

You slow down time

In your golden hour

The British man continued to shower you with praise. His words lifted your spirits. The sadness on your soul began to dissolve in the golden glitter that came from his love song. Why be sad, why fear when your knight in shining armor was here. Butterflies dancing everywhere like a beautiful daydream.

[miekasa]

ik this is random but can you do a 'what i eat in a day' rundown? i'm just curious lol

This is the kind of ask you start to answer and realize just how fucking weird your response is gonna be LMFAOO. Fair disclosure, this is not nutritional advice, nor an exact measurement of what I eat every single day, but on the days I have work, there is a formal, and it’s as follows: 

Breakfast

Usually includes eggs, hash browns, bacon, and/or avocado + water

Fruit, usually a tangerine

Iced matcha latte, iced chai latte, or iced hazelnut latte. this caffeine is essential lest i end up with a headache by 12 rip 

Post-breakfast snack

Finishing my iced drink

Some combination of crackers/fruit/cheese/granola bar w milk/savory pastry

More water, that damn water bottle costs too much not to

Pre-lunch snack

Fruit-infused granola bar? Does that make sense? Like the soft ones with fruit jam in the middle or goldfish/cheez-its/grapes for a dry snack. 

Lunch

Wildcard, changes almost every day. Things I like include soup, beef ribs and rice, turkey and cheese sandwiches, big salads, rice and beans, chicken and rice, steak and rice. I like rice. More water. 

Fruit, usually an apple or pear or two bananas w peanut butter

Gotta have a little treat (esp if there’s no fruit) like a small pastry

Midday snack (probably 3-4pm)

Bigger than other snacks—ie: bagel w cream cheese, rice balls, cereal, half sandwich

Maybe another iced drink, who’s to say 

Post-work/pre-trek home snack

Similar midday snack vibes, recents include: rice balls, granola bars, seaweed, pretzel rods, fries. More water. 

Home snack

Starts with tea, always 

Something along the lines of [Fried] rice with seaweed, or a toasted bagel if I’m very hungry

Dinner 1

Another wildcard, also changes every day. Sometimes I cook, sometimes I buy take-out, sometimes I eat something before coming home like a burger and then just have tea until I’m hungry again. Always my biggest meal of the day, always has protein, likely to include potatoes or rice in some form and if not that, then pasta lmfao

Mostly have water with my dinner, or ginger-ale

Must eat meat here bc I am a carnivore

Pre-shower/post-computer activities meal

Probably more tea, maybe another little treat

Any leftovers from the day that I forgot about/didn’t have time to eat at work 

Dinner 2

Sometimes I knock the fuck out and go to sleep after I shower, but more often than not, I end up eating something again before going to bed. Something easy like a bagel or frozen dumplings/anything I can stick in an air fryer. Lately I’ve been inhaling daifuku and tostitos like a madman 

The end. Thank you for coming. 

[scribblesandink]

They got her ready and fed before the bus showed up

Apollo picked at a bagel while Audrey inhaled pancakes before going back up to bed

He fell asleep almost immediately

Do you think covid existed in the Season? Do you think that for 2020-2021 Zeus couldn't host two Seasons. He had to wait until 2022 when restrictions finally lifted?

I'm gonna assume that covid didn't exist for my own sanity

[areiton]

The thing about dating Steve is that it's little moments of endless happiness.

He thought he understood it, what it meant to be happy in a relationship. To enjoy coexisting with someone else. He had been happy with Pepper, had loved living with Rhodey. They were part of him, woven into his soul in a way he couldn't--wouldn't-- put into words, as much because he hated the messy touchy feely bullshit as because he didn't want to quantify his love for them. Putting words to how he felt for Pepper Rhodey Happy Peter--it made them smaller, somehow.

So he knew, what it was to be happy with other people.

He thought he knew.

But then there is Steve.

Steve, who curls a strong arm around his waist and presses a kiss to the nape of his neck before he crawls carefully from their bed, a sweet apology for untangling their legs and taking his warmth from their bed, a ghost of his laugh chasing Tony as he grumbles into the pillows alone.

Steve, who leaves a bagel and coffee steaming on the counter for him, a wordless reminder that he is cared for, that even as Steve merrily chases himself around the city for twenty miles, his thoughts are of Tony, that he knows Tony well enough to know he won't feed himself when he scoots out the door for his first meeting of the day.

Steve, who tangles their feet together as they eat lunch together, a quick stolen half hour between meetings or projects or debriefs, and it's nothing special, it's cold cuts and a bag of chips, an apple shared between them and sweet tea glinting on Steve's lips as he listens to Tony complain, it's melting chocolate licked from his thumb and a salty kiss smacked to his lips before Pepper hauls him away for his next meeting.

Steve, who he finds in the kitchen, who hums a happy little note as Tony winds around him, rests his aching head against his broad back, who leans back for a kiss Tony is too eager to give, who promises dinner soon, and a quiet night, who never complains, when Tony vanishes down into the lab for a little bit of tinkering.

Steve, who he finds on the couch in his workshop, and Tony collapses next to him and burrows into him, and one strong arm tucks him close, and he breathes into it, the steady warm presense of him, the scent of lead and wood, and Steve's favorite soap, and he lets himself drift on it, on the warmth of him, solid and steady around him, and the knowledge that this moment, this moment that is like a thousand others is going to be followed by a thousand more.

They might fool around, when Steve coaxes him up and leads him to bed, and that is always it's own reward, but here, with the bots quiet and the lab still, he inhales the quiet peace of this moment, and adds it to a thousand others that are the happiest he's ever been.

i just want to read about stevetony cuddles 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[moemoemammon]

So bear with me. MC sleeps like a rock. A bomb could go off next to them, and they don't wake up. Now, add shallow breathing, and they look like a corpse. You could mistake them for a corpse if you don't check their pulse.

How would the brothers (+ datables if you're not too picky hehe) react to the first time waking them up for school only to think they probably died in their sleep on day one??

Sleeping Like a Corpse!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

Lucifer didn’t think much of you when you arrived, now could he be bothered to personally make sure you peeled yourself out of bed in the morning. So naturally, he sent Mammon to go do it.

But when Mammon came back complaining about how you didn’t budge an inch, big bro realized he’d have to take care of it himself, like usual.

He figured slamming your door open would’ve done the trick, but you remain still. And as much as he wants to drag you out of bed by the ankle, he knows how fragile humans can be. He opts for giving you a vigorous shake, and.... you don’t budge.

He calls your name, nothing. He literally pulls you upright by the shoulders and jostles you around like a protein shaker bottle, but you don’t move, and- wait... are you breathing? MAMMOOOOOO-

“Haaah... It’s your first morning with us, and you’re already causing me trouble. If it weren’t for the warmth of your skin, I’d have thought you were dead. Perhaps I should give you an enchanted alarm clock, if you prove to be this difficult to wake every morning.”

Mammon

Tch, he seriously didn’t get why THE Great Mammon had to do this sorta grunt work! Why should he have to make sure a lousy human gets up for school? It’s not like he’s their babysitter! but we all know he’s a p*ssy so he’s not gonna say that out loud

But that means he’s gonna make sure you know how irritated he is! Mammon bursts into your room, calling you a ‘stinkin’ human’ at the top of his lungs, and... you don’t move a muscle. So his next step is to stomp over and rip your blankets off, and..... you still don’t move.

What the hell? It’s like trying to wake up Belphie! He leans in to try to smack you awake, when he finally notices how it...kinda...looks like you aren’t breathing.

Wait. Wait wait wait-! SURE he didn’t feel like having to watch you, but that didn’t mean he wanted you to die on the first night! Lucifer was gonna KILL him-! Did you die of fright or something?! He didn’t really mean all that stuff he said about eating you, you know?! Hey, snap out of it-!

“What the- You’re ALIVE?! I thought you died in your sleep, dammit! TCH! What’s the big idea, playin’ dead like that?! Ya tryin’ to get me in trouble?!” “-N-no I wasn’t worried about ya!”

Leviathan

Why does HE have to wake you up..? Sure, he has to go to school today anyway for the student council meeting, but what does that have to do with a human..? Couldn’t Lucifer have asked ANYONE else..?

Beyond annoyed when he enters your room. What’s he supposed to do?? Shake you?? Hit you with something???? Levi opts for awkwardly poking your side, and noticing how you don’t react. Great. Ugh... this sucked....

He tries again, then pokes the back of your head, tugs your sleeve, shakes your arm... then you roll over from the movement and he nearly has a heart attack. Not only because you surprised him, but because you.. wait, did you die?!

Stuck between “LMAOOOO ROFLMAO the human died on their first night! What a noob! #fail!” and “KDAKLFHLDSJFKL OH NO HELLO?????”

“WH- Ahhh... I thought you were dead. You know how long Lucifer would've lectured if if you died, right? He'd be so mad, i bet he'd even confiscate my D.D.D.! Normies like you are nothing but trouble. This is why a human shouldn't even be here..."

Satan

What a chore... This felt like more of a punishment than anything, and Satan hadn’t even done anything yet. Unless Lucifer already discovered the ink he dripped into his shampoo? Either way, he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in you.

But seeing as he got to hang around you in your most vulnerable state, wouldn’t it be funny if he put a curse on you? He was sure that whatever he chose would become a headache for Lucifer in some way, so the possibilities were endless.

Temporary blindness, backwards speech, rainbow colored skin, extreme bad luck, he didn’t know what to choose! Ah, and there were a few curses he wanted to use on Lucifer that needed to be tested out, so why not experiment on you?

He had plenty of time to pick the perfect one and- ah. Were you.. dead? Did someone beat him to the punch?

“Ah, so you’re alive after all. And here I thought I could harass Lucifer with knowing his human had died in their sleep. Well, it’ll have to wait, I guess...I was really looking forward to the expression on his face...”

Asmo

What? Lucifer was ACTUALLY letting him go in the cute little human’s room, completely unsupervised? What a bold move, dearest big brother~! There’s no way he’d pass up the chance to take a peek at your sleeping face! You were pretty cute, but he’d like to see if you were worth his attention.

That being said, Asmo creeps into your room like a sneaky toddler, and doesn’t hesitate to grab your shoulder and roll you over to get a good look at your sleeping face. Hmm... Not bad! 

So with that, he hops right into your bed unannounced, bouncing you around and giving you that innocent giggle of his. Aren’t you lucky? You get to be woken up by the endlessly charming Asmo-chan~! The first thing you’ll see is his gorgeous face, and you’ll be blessed with the perfect first school day! 

Why, there are hundreds and thousands of demons who wish they were as lucky as you were right now! He’s seen how they’ll fight tooth and nail for a chance to-..... hey, how come you’re not breathing..? Er, he’s not really into that sort of thing...

“Oh thank goodness! I thought you up and died before I had a chance to get to know you! You know how disappointed I’d be, right? Knowing I wasn’t able to explore the cute human living in our house... it’d be a tragedy!”

Beel

Surprisingly, he doesn’t mind that much. Having to go and wake you up reminds him of when Belphie was still around, so it’s familiar and feels kind of nice. What DOESN’T feel nice is that he’s missing valuable time he could be spending inhaling his breakfast, because you won’t wake up.

Hangry Beel enters your room with a bagel in his mouth, so you couldn’t understand what he was saying even if you were awake. Just know he’s calling your name and threatening to eat your breakfast. It’s your loss if you miss out.

Hm... You don’t wake up even after he shakes you, so he’s tempted to just leave. But he knows Lucifer will scold you if he returns downstairs without you, so he’s got to improvise.

It’s fine if he just carries you downstairs, right? He’s just tryin to eat man why can’t you- ...Beel is noticing a distinct lack of breath coming from you when he picks you up. Uhhh

“Oh, you aren’t dead. I was going to ask Lucifer if we could have you for breakfast too, but I guess that’s not an option anymore. He says hurry up and get dressed, and that you should give me your breakfast. Bye.”

Belphie

He’s in the attic, so same lmao.

Twins! Still gonna strangle and throw you down the stairs in the future tho

Couple goals amirite?

[freakiish]

City That Never Sleeps

First time posting in months, first timothée, not proof read.

Smut

I tossed and turned as the cars below screeched and beeped. People yelling through the streets, how wonderful it is trying to sleep in the city that never sleeps. I roll over with a groan grabbing my phone the bright light stunning my eyes. “Are you awake?” I send the message to Timothée. We met at a bagel shop, I complimented his jacket. To his shock, I was not a fan, I was actually totally unaware of who he was, thus sparking a lovely friendship. Moments pass and my phone dings, “I am, what’s up?” He responded. “Are you in NY right now? I need to do something before I explode.” I say dramatically. “I actually am for a few days, I can come over?” Timothée has never been in my place before, let alone this late at night. I’m in my jammies, what if my apartment isn’t nice enough, I have stuffed animals on my bed. Why am I overthinking this so bad? “Perfect.” I answer, knowing he’ll be here in less than ten minutes.

In an attempt to settle my anticipatory nerves I brush through my hair, curl my eyelashes, and add a bit of mascara to make myself look more presentable. Pulled out of my thoughts by a gentle knock, seeing it is Timothée through the peep hole I close my eyes and open the door. “Welcome,” I smile, “come in, make yourself at home.” I point to the couch for him to have a seat. He stops, pulling me in to a hug, “I’ve been in Europe for weeks you’re not even going to say you missed me?” I let out a small breath, wrapping my arms around his warm body, “I did miss you Timothée, very much,” he’s the only friend I have in the city. “I missed you,” he said. I pull away after an awkward amount of time, he clears his throat breaking the silence, “So, this is your place,” he says. “I know it’s not much bu-“ he cuts me off, “It is so cozy and tasteful, and smells good,” he smiles at me. “Thank you, it’s vanilla,” I answer. He lets out a giggle. I look him up and down, thankful that he is also in pajamas, I feel less embarrassed of my booty shorts and big ripped t shirt. “So um… it’s really late and I couldn’t sleep I was thinking we could just watch a movie?” I say. “Sounds perfect,” he says, stretching out on the couch, making himself at home as I said. I grab some blankets throwing them at him on the couch before I settle in at the corner. His head falls in my lap.

We agreed on Matilda, such a classic. My hands find his hair, messing with the soft, loose curls. Half way through the movie his hand finds my thigh, rubbing his thumb back and forth across my skin. I inhale, looking down at the beautiful boy, his eyes stuck on the tv, very invested in the movie. He must sense me looking at him, he turns his body, laying flat so our faces meet. “Hey,” he said looking up at me. I let out a laugh, “hi Timothée.” He sits up next to me. “Is the movie boring you?” He asks looking me in my eyes, inches apart. “A little bit yeah,” I say holding his gaze. “We can do something else instead,” he leans in. “Can I kiss you y/n?” He asks. I waste no time crashing my lips to his. I lean back, he falls on top of me, not breaking the kiss. One hand props him up while the other finds my cheek, resting it there sweetly as my hands wrap around his neck. I don’t know what has gotten into us. He pulls away sitting up again, we look at each other with shock.

I throw myself over his lap, straddling him. I kiss him again. His hands resting comfortably on my thighs. “What is happening?” He asks lowly. “I don’t know… but I think I really like it?” I say, almost asking. It’s been awhile for both of us, this is normal, two adults feeling things is normal. Even if they are friends, right? “I think I really want you to keep going.” He says, grabbing the back of my neck pulling me into his lips. Our tongues dance together, light hums leaving our mouths, his hands find their way up to squeeze up on my ass making a louder gasp come from me. He smiles against my lips. I grind down on him, throwing my head back his mouth attacks my neck, sending shivers all over my body. My goose bumps become more prominent as his hands grab the bottom of my big shirt, gently pulling it over my head. His eyes grow darker finding my braless, hard nipples directly in front of him. His mouth finds one, his hand squeezing and toying with the other. I let out an audible moan, continuing to push down on him, my wetness definitely soaking through my little shorts.

I reach down signaling for him to take off his shirt as well. I look down at him, admiring his beautiful, dainty body. I briefly leave another kiss on his lips, moving down his jaw, biting at his ear making him moan out, down his glorious neck. “Fuucckkk, you’re driving me crazy,” he whimpers. I look up at him, bringing myself down to my knees on the floor in front of him. My hands grip the waist band of his sweats, he lifts himself for me to pull them down without hesitation. His dick very prominently hard, I take it in my hand, without breaking eye contact I kiss up his shaft making my way to his tip. I lick the precum from his tip, he bites down in his bottom lip watching me with admiration. I finally take his tip in my mouth, he throws his head back at the sensation. I slowly bob up and down, taking more and more each time, humming as I do. “Fuuucckkk, pretty girl,” my heat throbs at the name. His hands find my hair, pulling gently.

He pulls my head up, gripping my face in his hand, bending over to press his lips on mine. He gets up taking his pants completely off. He stands in front of me, “Lay down for me.” I do as he says laying down on my back, his middle finger runs down my body starting at my neck, all the way down to the band of my shorts. His hands come up under me, and with one swift motion my bottom is exposed to the cool air. I spread my legs apart, giving him better access. “So pretty,” he says. “Can I touch you?” I eagerly nod my head “mhm,” I hum. His middle finger rubs up and down my soaking folds. He looks at my pussy like he’s in a trance. Teasingly, both hands wrap around my thighs pulling me closer to him, he peppers small kisses along my legs. His hot breath lingers over me, before finally connecting his sweet mouth to my bud. My hand wraps in his hair, the other I find playing with my breasts. He feels so good working his tongue up and down, sucking on my clit. I begin grinding my hips into him. He stops what he’s doing, sticking his tongue out for me to grind up against his pretty face. He stops, making me cry out, kissing up my body making his way to my mouth so I can taste myself on his lips.

We are both seemingly out of breath from the heavy scene that unfolded. “May I please fuck you?” He whispers, swallowing hard. “Yes please,” I practically beg. Remaining centimeters from my face he pushed his tip into me, both of our mouths fall slightly apart. He goes deeper with every thrust, nice and slow. My eyes hang low as pleasure rushes through my body and I let go, uncontrollable moans escaping my lips. He grunts as he takes his cock out of me and slowly pushes it back in, watching it happen. “That feels so good,” I say. “Yeah?” He shakes. “Fuck yeah.” I growl, making him look at me once again. His hand squeezes my jaw and he pounds into me hard. My hands wrap around him, squeezing and scratching at his back and his neck. “I’m going to cum,” he says. “Yes all over me please,” I say, and with that he pulls out, his warm liquid hitting my tummy. I take some with my finger up to my mouth, sucking it off for him, he stares in awe. He collapses on the couch, in the same position we started. Breathing heavily, my hands tangle in his hair. “We go to sleep and discuss this when we wake up?” He asks. “Yep” I pop the p. Our breathing steadies, and we drift off.