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heytheredelulu · 5 months

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I was wondering if you could do maybe a like feral Bucky? Like maybe they trigger the soldat and instead of him fallowing their orders he goes after the shy curvy little intern of Tony’s? They’ve both been too shy to make a move. I’m cool with whatever spin you put on it, I LOVE your writing.

(Love all your normal kinks so feel free to add those too as you see fit! )

Thank you lovely 🥰 Can’t wait to drool over more of your writing lol

I took this and RAN with it.

It ended up becoming much longer than I had anticipated so this one will be broken up into two parts.

I struggled with trying to incorporate Bucky being triggered after the reader already being somewhat aquatinted with him, pining after him, etc. so I went the route I did and I hope it fulfills your request!

Part one will be mostly just plot building with a spicy cliff hanger leading us into a part two of pure smut.

Ready to Comply - Part One - Anon Request

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 2.5k

C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, choking, blood (Bucky is strugglin’ and bites his own hand), a lil sexual tension in prep for part two, he sniffs her coochie, okay?

“Okay, stop. Stop that.” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth. You shot him a glance and tugged at your skirt one more time for good measure. He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “You look fine, Rookie. Very professional. Is that what you needed to hear?”

You scoff and shake your head. “That’s no- I’m not fishing for compliments, I genuinely hate dressing like a fucking secretary.” You grumble, drawing a laugh out of Tony. “And don’t call me ‘Rookie.’” You add with a prod to his chest. He brushes the front of his suit jacket sarcastically in response to your poke and raises his hands defensively, a soft chuckle rising from his throat.

“A fucking secretary? Really? It’s business professional. Did you think I could let you stand next to me in a press conference wearing an old t-shirt and some torn up jeans? We need to create a semblance of professionalism.” He gestures to his own attire with a grin and there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he continues.

“And what’s wrong with ‘Rookie’? You’re my little protégé.” He jests, reaching like he’s going to pinch your cheek as if you were some adorable little toddler. You frown, swatting his hand away and brings it to his chest, clutching it dramatically. “Wow, you’re going to assault your friend, mentor and extremely rich and handsome boss?” He jokes, feigning offense.

“The only accurate adjective in that sentence is ‘boss’, Sir.” You reply dryly, crossing your arms. The corners of his lips twitch into a sly smile and he nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll accept if you don’t agree with friend and mentor.” He starts, pressing his lips into a pout. “But I might actually get a little offended if you refuse to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome I am.”

You groan in annoyance and roll your eyes, preparing a witty comeback when Pepper Potts rounds the corner with a tablet cradled in her arm, a phone nestled between her ear and shoulder and an expression of concern written across her face.

“Everything alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me.. another offer for People’s ‘sexiest man alive’? I keep telling them, I can’t be on the cover every ye-“ Tony stops mid sentence as Pepper’s manicured forefinger lands on his lips, effectively silencing him.

“Yes. Okay. Understood. Thank you.” She says curtly into the phone before disconnecting the call. “That was Fury. We have an issue. A Barnes issue.”

Your brows furrow at this. “What’s happened with Bucky?” You ask, a sense of dread creeping up your spine. He’d been all but isolated since he’d moved into the Avenger’s tower alongside his best friend Steve Rogers and you couldn’t imagine him being the source of an issue with how reserved this man was. You weren’t at all oblivious to his past- it had been global wide news after all, but in the months since his de-conditioning in Wakanda he had been making great strides towards recovery, working to make amends.

Though your interactions with the ex-assassin had been few, he’d always been polite and kind towards you. You’d felt so out of place among the Avengers, being Tony’s intern. You weren’t on the team, hell, a few of them didn’t even know your name despite you having been trailing behind Tony for the last year. Maybe it was your own fault, considering you hadn’t really made an effort to talk to any of them but aside from the fact that they were all extremely intimidating, you were naturally a shy and quiet person.

You quickly push the self deprecating thoughts from your head. You didn’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if you wanted to be on the team, or were there to make friends, you were here as an engineer, to learn from who was arguably the most intelligent man on the planet. Perhaps that’s why Bucky had always been cordial to you more than some of the others living here. Maybe he gravitated towards you, as someone who constantly felt so out of place, because he felt that way here as well.

Or maybe he thought you were cute.

Oh fuck, if only.

You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man or that you’d been quietly crushing on him practically since you’d started your internship. Every small interaction with Bucky left a blush on your cheeks and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about your belly.

The thought of someone as absurdly good looking as Bucky fucking Barnes finding you attractive was enough to spark a surge of heat straight to your abdomen.

No, get it together. Now’s not the time.

You mentally scold your vagina for having the nerve to throb at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes regardless of the context and turn your attention back to Pepper and Tony as they argued in hushed whispers.

“What’s happened with Bucky?” You repeat, knowing they likely won’t clue you in if it’s related to Avenger’s business.

Tony offers a nervous smile and exchanges a quick glance with his wife before he checks his watch. “Terminator? He’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably holed up with security for setting off the metal detector.” He pauses and then snaps his fingers. “Or maybe he walked past the junkyard on fifth and got snatched up by the hydraulic magnet.” He says, lifting a hand and miming a crane.

Pepper lets out a soft sigh and your gaze flicks to her. “Yeah, a big magnet or something.” She mumbles, turning her attention back to her tablet. “I don’t think that’s-“ Your cut off by Tony’s hand on the small of your back, urging you forward. “Enough about Robocop. We’re on, Rookie.” He says, his nervous expression falling away and quickly being replaced with a mask of professionalism. “Let’s go unveil our project to the press.” Pepper moves to open the door for you both and before you can open your mouth to tell Tony that if he calls you ‘rookie’ one more time you were going to strangle him with his overpriced tie, your senses are overwhelmed with an onslaught of overlapping voices and camera shutters.

You toss your blazer over the desk in your quaint office and slump over into the chair, trying not to let your mind run wild with anxious thoughts about the press conference. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but worry that you probably looked like a deer in headlights up at the podium alongside Tony.

You huff and rest your chin on the back of your hand, glancing over at the computer screens. Your attention is immediately drawn to security footage from one of the conference rooms when you see movement on the monitor. You lean in with your brows furrowed. It’s late and no one should be in the conference room. You expand the image and can clearly make out Tony and Steve moving about the room with tense body language.

You hover over the footage with your mouse and hesitate. You know that you absolutely should not eavesdrop on the two men but once Tony’s hands begin angrily gesturing around you give in to temptation and turn on the audio.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘back up?’” Tony shouts, beginning to pace the room.

Steve leans forward with his palms on the table and his head bowed slightly. “It’s exactly what I said, Tony.” He replies, his biceps flexing as he grips the table. “HYDRA had a fail safe. They’d planted a back up activation incase he would ever manage to be deprogrammed.” He looks up at Tony with a solemn expression. “They got to him. I should’ve been there, I should’ve-“

Tony holds out a hand, his other resting against his temple as he tries to comprehend what Steve is telling him. “Well you weren’t and they did so know we have to figure out how the fuck we navigate this.” He says firmly, shaking his head. “Do we have eyes on him? Is he in the building?”

Steve sighed and stood upright from the table. “No. He’s in the wind. We lost contact with him a few hours ago.” He admits, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s something you need to know.” He adds, looking at Tony with concern as he begins to pace again.

“Well spit it out, Rogers!” Tony yells, stopping and turning back to Steve.

“Nat received some intel. The hit HYDRA ordered is on you and your intern.” He says so quietly you can barely pick it up on the audio. Fear crawls up your spine and your hand trembles as you increase the volume on the security feed, while your heartbeat in your ears becomes near deafening.

Tony stiffens, slowly approaching Steve. “You wanna tell me why?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous. Steve nods. “The new tech you unveiled today.“ He explains.

Tony sighs, understanding why one of their enemies would be threatened by what the two of you had been working on and reaches to loosen his tie. “I’ll take Pepper and move her to the safe house before I meet you at a rendezvous point. Send someone to get my Rookie and get her off the grid. I don’t want her alone for a single second.” He says in an exasperated tone, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out his cell phone as he stalks towards the door.

“And Rogers?” He asks, turning around one last time, his hand curled tight around the doorknob. Steve’s head snaps up and he looks at Tony with guilt ridden eyes. “Yeah?”

“Find Barnes.”

Find Barnes.

The statement echoes in your ears, sending your thoughts spinning as if a category five hurricane were waging inside your head.

No. No, no, no.

There’s a hit out on you?

To be carried out by the fucking Winter Soldier.

Oh you were so fucked.

You scoot your chair back, bracing your hands on the desk to stand with wobbly knees.

Bile rises in your throat as you take a slow step backwards, bumping the chair in your state of panic and knocking your jacket off the workbench. You jump at the sound of it slipping to the floor and clutch your chest as a result of inducing your own jumpscare and take slow breaths to steel your nerves before you bend down to pick it up. As you rise back upright, your gaze connects with a pair of vacant, icy blue eyes in the shadows across the room and your entire body seizes in terror.

He’s not in the wind.

He’s been in here with you this entire goddamned time.

“B-Bucky?” You stutter, bringing your jacket to your chest and grasping it until your knuckles turn white. Maybe Steve and Tony were wrong. Maybe Nat’s intel was wrong. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t about to die at the hands of the ex-assassin you’ve been pining over for nearly a year.

He takes a step forward from the shadows, his face expressionless and his eyes unblinking without a single trace of emotion behind them.

Okay, yeah. You’re fucked.

“Sergeant Barnes?” You whisper, almost a plea to the man you knew, locked away somewhere in the brain of the cold and calculated killer standing in front of you.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t register your words, as he crosses the lab in a few quick strides and catches your throat in his cybernetic hand.

Oh god.

The air leaves your lungs, his grip tightening around your windpipe as his face remains blank.

You’re going to die.

So why are you so fucking turned on?

Heat pools low in your abdomen, your core flooding with arousal, coupled with fear and unbridled lust.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you gasp and thrash in his grip, your thick thighs rubbing together with every kick and flail, doing nothing to alleviate the throbbing ache in your cunt.

God this is so wrong.

His brows furrow, the first hint of emotion since he stepped out of the shadows. His head tilts inquisitively and his grip slackens around your throat as he leans in, tracing his nose across your jaw line and inhaling deeply. You still, your face contorting in confusion as you swallow hard against his palm, leaning your body into his hold.

His eyes narrow as he pulls away from you and you take the opportunity to suck in a breath, massaging your neck gently while your gaze drops to observe his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides.

“Bucky?” You ask, wondering what’s caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, wondering if maybe he’s somehow snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He’s still and silent for a long moment, his head bowed as his chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.

“Sergeant Barnes, are yo-“

His head snaps up, effectively silencing you.

Your mouth remains agape, stuck on your last word and as he watches you with predatory eyes, taking menacing steps toward you, you can’t seem to find your voice any longer. You stumble backwards, losing your balance and falling back against the desk, unable to regain your footing before his hands grip the flesh of your bare thighs.

He tilts you backwards, your back colliding hard with the surface of the desk, stealing the breath out of your chest. He drops to his knees, splaying his palms against your thighs, the hem of your dress rising up to expose your panties as he spreads your legs wide before him and drags his nose across the fabric.

He groans.

He fucking groans.

“You’re my mission.” He breathes out, eyes wild and fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as if he were fighting to physically restrain himself.

“I know.” You whimper, lifting your head to look down at him over the soft curve of your stomach.

“I’ve been ordered to kill you.” He chokes out, pressing his forehead against your inner thigh and drawing in a deep and shuddering breath.

“Then why haven’t you?” You ask in a broken whisper.

He turns his head and mumbles something incoherently, his breath ghosting against the damp fabric of your underwear and sending a wave of arousal crashing through your core. He stiffens, curling his flesh hand into a fist and bringing it to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he swallows back a moan.

He shakes his head, his teeth pressing into his skin hard enough to draw blood and you move to sit up, leaning on your palms as you look down at him where he’s slotted between your legs, visibly trembling.

He rises quickly to his feet, his left hand shooting out to curl around your neck again and he drops his bloodied flesh hand to his side.

“Because..” He says through clenched teeth, inhaling sharply as the cool metal of his thumb strokes the column of your throat.

“I can’t fucking focus when all I can smell-“

His free hand roughly cups your pussy over your panties, his voice trailing off as he kneads his palm against the thin, wet fabric.

He growls, tightening his grip around your throat and jerking you up to him, forcing you to meet his threatening gaze.

His expression grows pained and he whimpers, dipping his head to meet your forehead with his own, his breath fanning across your face with every heave of his chest.

“All I can smell is how wet you are.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@suz7days @blackbirdwitch22 @truthfulliarr @lilacka

Part two

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #winter soldier x plus size reader #avengers fanfiction

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tojipie · 8 months

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Hello my love! I know you’ve been gone for a while but I wanted to stop by and ask if you have any realistic but unhinged toji headcannons? Hopefully this gets you into the spirit of writing again, I don’t mean to overstep. We miss you❤️.

hello sweet anon :( i’ve admittedly been struggling with my mental health a whole ton which is why i’ve been gone but this ask really did help me get back into the groove of writing just a bit <3 thank u for stopping by ! mwah

this is just me saying shit to say it pls don't take this srsly !

content: fluff, mentions of alc, smoking, suggestive talk but not smut, a little angst

was a victim of the xandemic in his late 20s so one of his pupils is a little bigger than the other

initially hated ambulances because of the absurd cost but grew to hate them even more because the attention makes him uncomfortable. oh you want to take his blood pressure? ew, don’t touch him. that’s weird. would rather patch himself up than sit under a gaggle of fluorescent lights for 6 hours in an ER waiting room.

shiu has been a co-signer on every apartment he’s ever rented because his credit score is in the single digits.

picked up vaping on accident after the corner store ran out of cigs when he needed them most. still prefers marlboros because he likes that searing feeling in the back of his throat. throws the cartons out his car window like a freak.

his drivers license is crumpled. like physically crumpled like paper. he has no idea how it happened but when he needs to use it at the liquor store he definitely gets stares.

will forever be devoted to his late wife. mentally at least. she’s the love of his life but in his mind sex with other women isn’t really cheating right? like he uses a condom sometimes so it’s fine probably? he's not gonna stay celibate for the rest of his life. the topic keeps him up at night.

has a scar from an appendectomy right above his v line that women go crazy for. he’s not entirely sure what they like about it but he’s been touched there so many times that it’s morphed into an erogenous zone.

slut for fast food. would rather get a vanilla shake and dip his fries in it till his stomach hurts than spend time at a sit-down restaurant. eats like shit but still maintains his physique, infuriatingly enough.

hates being in public more than you’d think. it’s a deeply uncomfortable feeling that stems from the risk that being discovered poses during jobs. he prefers to have groceries ordered, meals delivered, and shiu take his car down to the shop if needed. if hes out and about he’s either at the casino tables or the liquor store.

is down for whatever if the price is right. like truly. older women love what he has going on which works well in his favor because it puts a roof over his head. absolutely no shame once money is involved.

has tried to get help for his gambling addiction a few brief times. got close once and then decided to hit the blackjack tables to celebrate his progress. he jokes about how things ended up from time to time but deep down he knows it’s pretty serious.

shops at the goodwill bins mostly. made an effort to stop stealing as much because of how dirt cheap the thrift is but couldn't stick to it. likes to go down the jeans isle and look for change in the pockets. his biggest score was a 5 dollar bill that had been through the washer so many times it was practically blank.

there's a little voice in the back of his head telling him to have more kids and he's not opposed to listening.

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joelscruff · 1 year

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ummm hi this is so random i just needed to tell someone about this cause no one i know likes pedro

so i was watching s1 narcos and javi was wearing this fkn white half sleeved shirt and they knew what they were fucking doing and i’m dying he’s so fkn hot what do i do!!, if i was interning for him and he walked in the room wearing that oh my fkn god i would be dead sorry for this rant

soaked (javier peña x f!reader) 18+

so as usual what was meant to be a little drabble became a full-fledged fic. what is wrong with me????? this outfit is truly insane though and i couldn't stop thinking about it getting wet 👀 i hope you enjoy xo (and thank you anon for the inspo and for telling me what episode this lovely shirt was in!) summary: it's hard being an intern for a man who won't even look at you, but maybe there's something else to it that you don't see. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: smut, blowjobs, deepthroating, protected p in v sex, praise kink, dirty talk, size kink (javi has a big dick), biting, probably bad spanish (blame google) word count: 6k (this was supposed to be a drabble!!!!!!! wtf!!!!!!!!) ao3

You're pretty sure you're going to quit your job.

You've been an intern at the DEA for about a month now, in charge of extremely mundane things like pouring coffee and organizing paperwork. No one really talks to you other than Steve Murphy, one of the agents you're assigned to, and even then he's too busy to really give you much attention. It's lonely and boring, and part of you thinks you might have quit already, if it wasn't for...

"Morning, asshole," Javier Peña enters the office with long strides, tossing a stack of papers toward your (very tiny) desk. You can't help but stare at him, swallowing nervously as you assess the plain white shirt he's wearing, loosely tucked into his tight jeans and accentuating his strong, tan arms. How does he always look so good? His hair is messy, brown curls tangled and sticking up in places like he's just rolled out of bed, and he probably has. The faint scent of whisky that follows him tells you all you need to know about how he spent his evening.

You're worried for only half a second that he's talking to you, but you realize his gaze is directed toward Steve, who simply shrugs.

"You didn't have to come," he replies with a laugh, "You coulda said no."

"To your fucking wife? Please." Javier sits down in his chair with force, leaning back to immediately put his long legs up on his desk and reach for a cigarette from his pocket, "She was excited about it, you dick."

Steve just laughs again, turning back to his work, "You did the right thing, man. I don't know what else to say."

You wish you understood the story, knew what they were playfully ribbing each other about, but for the past month you've been on the outside of their relationship. Steve gives you reassuring smiles and some small talk every now and then but it's not enough to feel like you actually belong there, not to mention that Javier has only spoken to you once. Even now, as you rise from your chair to pour some fresh coffee into his mug, he doesn't even look at you.

"You owe me," he says to Steve, lighting up his cig, "Pendejo."

As you pour his coffee you can't help but notice the way the collar of his shirt rides low enough for you to see his collarbones, see the light dusting of hair smattered across his dark skin. There's a few droplets of sweat here and there, and you resist the urge to lean forward and press your tongue to each one.

"I'll have some more too, sweetheart," Steve says behind you, and your thoughts scatter as you pull back from Javier's mug to go re-fill Steve's. You're aware of the way Steve's eyes trail to your breasts, hidden only by a thin layer of blue fabric; it makes you self conscious and also a bit confused. Steve has never looked at you that way before, "That's a nice blouse," he says to you with a smile, eyes going back up to your face, "My wife has one similar to that."

"Thank you," you say quietly, finishing filling up his mug and wanting to go back over to your desk as soon as possible; you don't like the idea of a married man ogling you.

"Isn't this a nice blouse, Javi?" Steve continues, and you freeze.

What is Steve doing? Is he trying to get you insulted? You turn slightly to look at Javier, coffee pot trembling slightly in your hand when you see that he's got an irritated expression painting his face, mouth downturned in a stern frown.

"Thin ice, Steve," Javier replies and takes another drag from his cigarette, his eyes set firmly on Steve's face, not even bothering to even look at the blouse in question.

"What? It's nice," Steve seems to be feigning innocence, yet again another inside joke you're not apart of. Except this time it's at your expense and you're not sure how that makes you feel. Suddenly Steve reaches up and takes a ruffle of your blouse near your arm between his fingers, "Really soft, too."

"Steve," Javier repeats, eyes dark, "Thin. Ice."

You look from Javier to Steve and back to Javier, absolutely bewildered. It's like things are being said but you can't hear them, have no idea what kind of secret language they're speaking. You pull away from Steve a bit, feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm gonna go put this back," you say quietly, referring to the coffee pot.

"Of course, sweetheart, I won't keep you," Steve gives you a wink and you know something is off. From what you've gathered so far from your time here, Steve loves his wife, has a picture of her on his desk right in front of him that you always catch him looking at. You've only been here a month but you swear he's mentioned her every single day, if not to you then to Javier, if not to Javier then to another intern or agent. So why is he suddenly being flirtatious with you?

You leave the room and return the coffee pot, staring at the aged tiles on the wall in front of you and feeling a lump form in your throat. You really do hate it here, you don't know why you've stayed as long as you have.

Yes you do, you idiot.

It's raining outside by the time your work day ends and you feel yourself deflate as you walk out the front doors of the DEA; you'd been hoping for the hot weather to continue so you could go for a run and distract yourself from this weird and uncomfortable day, decide whether or not you're going to just quit already. It's like the heavy rainfall is mocking you.

You feel much too depressed to walk home so you go back inside the building and make your way back to the office to call a taxi. Steve passes you in the hallway and slows down, puts his hand up to stop you.

"Hey, I'm sorry for this morning," he says, eyes kind and gentle, "That was inappropriate, I shouldn't have touched your blouse."

You're not sure what to say, giving him a small shrug, "It's, uh, okay. I was just..." you shake your head, "Yeah, never mind, it's okay."

"You're wondering why I did it." he states, frowning, and you almost laugh at his immediate assessment of the situation; deflecting a DEA agent? Not the smartest idea.

"Well, yeah," you shrug, "It was kinda weird. You're usually, um... very respectful so-"

He winces, "I know, I'm sorry. It was just me trying to get on Peña's nerves," he shuffles awkwardly in front of you, shifting the weight from his left leg to his right and back again, "He'd kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but I owe him."

You look at him in total confusion, shaking your head, "I don't understand."

He chuckles, shaking his head, "I know, I'm just trying to figure out how to word it," he bites his lip and then seems to resign himself to something, "Javier... he likes you."

You stare.

"My wife and I, we kind of wrangled him into having dinner with us last night. They were talking, she was askin' him about women, if he'd been on any dates, typical questions," he laughs at the memory, "He said no and she asked if he had his eye on anyone. He said no again, but I know this guy like the back of my hand, I can read him like a book. I knew that second no was a goddamn lie."

Your heart is pounding in your chest but your thoughts are muddled, unable to draw a clear conclusion from what Steve is telling you. You continue to just stand there wordlessly, listening.

"A few drinks later - well, more than a few - I asked him who he had his eye on. You wouldn't believe how easy it was to get it out of him, he just smiled, took a drag of his cig..." Steve acts this out, bringing his cigarette-less fingers to his lips and pretending to take a puff, eyes heavy-lidded and bleary, "And said your name."

You can't believe what you're hearing, there's no way it's true, no way he's telling you about something that actually happened. Your heart continues to pound relentlessly, staring at Steve like he's speaking another language, a million wordless questions flying back and forth in your mind at top speed.

"She's the most beautiful creature I ever saw," he quotes, voice slurred and gravelly, "She's sunshine incarnate."

"But he doesn't even look at me!" you blurt out, eyes wide.

Steve drops his hand and laughs again, shaking his head, "Sweetheart, he looks at you all the time. You're just looking away when he does it."

This revelation hits you hard, makes your breath catch in your throat. Is this actually true? Or is this some sick inside joke they're playing to get you to finally put in your notice, one of their private little games that you're not a part of. On principle it's the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard; the man has spoken to you once, only once, and it was on your first day. He'd introduced himself, shook your hand, and that was that.

"What do you mean you're doing this because you owe him?" you ask, shaking the thoughts away, "Isn't this just humiliating him?"

Steve smiles again, slightly smug, "I see the way you look at him too, you know. I'm not blind," he looks at his watch then and makes a face, "Listen, I gotta go, but if you're heading back to the office, he's still there."

"But, Steve, I-"

"Trust me," he gives you one of his reassuring smiles, "He needs - scratch that - wants someone like you, someone... stable."

You don't think being on the verge of quitting a paid internship would be considered stable, but you understand what he means. You may have only been here a short time but Javier's reputation is widely known around the office, something you've found yourself sympathizing with instead of villainizing him like others do. You know his history with women is pretty bleak relationship wise.

Steve begins to walk away from you, leaving you standing there speechless, "You better hurry before he leaves," he calls. He picks up his pace but you're still able to hear him as he mutters, "and that's my good deed done," then saunters down the hall and disappears around the corner.

The office you share with Javier and Steve is the only one still lit on your floor, meaning everyone else has already gone home. You know that Javier likes to stay late sometimes, work on the case alone and look at things from different angles in solitude. You feel nervous as you approach the door, not wanting to bother him. But regardless of whether what Steve said is true, you still need to call a taxi.

You turn the knob and walk inside, trying to be as quiet and slow as possible. Your efforts are pointless though, as Javier looks up from his work and sees you immediately, his eyebrows going up in surprise.

"It's raining," you say softly, awkwardly, "I need to call a cab."

"Right," he nods to you and then returns to his work without an afterthought, writing something down on a piece of paper.

You stand there for a few moments just looking at him, watching his face, trying to find any indication of affection behind those focused eyes, his serious brow. He looks the same as always, lost in thought, scribbling away, handsome as he does it. The white shirt certainly isn't helping; he's unbuttoned it more now, his chest exposed and sunglasses hanging from a button near his pocket. He's so effortlessly gorgeous, it makes you ache.

He must sense you still standing there, not making any move to walk to your desk and pick up the phone. He looks up at you again, brow furrowed, "Do you need something?"

You shake your head quickly, cheeks burning, "N-no, sorry," you shuffle over to your desk and sit down in your chair, doing everything you can to avoid looking over at him again. You think about what Steve said, how Javier is always looking at you but only when you're not aware. You wonder if he's doing it right now.

You reach for the phone, unable to stop your hands from shaking slightly. You're almost sure you feel his gaze on you now, boring into you and watching every move you make, eyes deep and brown and calculating, always calculating. Assessing. What does he make of you? If what Steve said is true, what does he see when he looks at you?

Sunshine incarnate.

You can't help but smile at the words, dialing the number for the taxi slowly as your brain repeats them over and over. Had he really said that about you? And meant it? Your thoughts are so jumbled that you accidentally press the wrong button and have to start over, hanging up the phone quickly before picking it up again.

Just as you go to press the first number, a hand comes down and stops you, brushing against your fingers in a tender and gentle way. You freeze, staring at the hand, knowing it's his, knowing that if he wasn't looking at you before, he certainly is now.

"Why don't I just give you a ride, cariño?" he asks quietly, voice slightly rough around the edges, "I'm heading home now anyway."

You will yourself to look up, eyes capturing his immediately and getting lost in their depths, big and brown and soft and searching. Your lips part but no words come out. You force yourself to give him a nod, repressing the urge to jump up and kiss his mouth, envelop him, hold him close and look even deeper into those soulful eyes.

You stand shakily and walk to the door, feeling his eyes on your back as he follows behind you. The walk down to the main doors of the building is completely silent, save for the clicking of your heels against the linoleum and his heavy masculine breaths at your side. It's still raining once you get outside, and you can't help but make a face.

"Not a fan of the rain?" he asks you a bit loudly over the pelting of water against the concrete, a smile tugging at his lips.

"It's not my favorite," you admit, wincing, "Where are you parked?"

"You stay here where it's dry, I'll pull it up front."

You watch him dart out from under the eaves of the building, rain immediately soaking his white shirt without apology. You watch with wide eyes as his back becomes visible from the downpour, skin a pinkish brown beneath the suddenly translucent material. You catch sight of two dimples near his lower back before he disappears from eyesight.

You swallow, trying to pretend you don't feel yourself begin to throb within the confines of your underwear, a wetness pooling between your legs that has nothing to do with the rain.

Only a few moments later he's pulling up front, waving at you from behind the car window. You dash forward and feel the rain soak your hair, your skin, your blouse. There was nothing about rain in the forecast this morning so you hadn't thought to bring a jacket with you; you're now regretting that decision greatly.

The passenger side door is already unlocked and you slip inside gratefully, slamming it behind you and exhaling loudly. The rain continues to pelt the windows, the roof, a steady and repetitive sound as you look down at yourself to assess the damage. At least you chose a blue blouse and not a white one, although you can faintly see the shape of your nipples poking through the fabric. A bit self conscious, you cross your arms and huddle forward in the seat.

"Should heat up soon," Javier says beside you, quiet like he'd been in the office, "Seatbelt."

You glance over at him for only a second but regret it instantly, immediately noticing the way the rain has completely soaked his white shirt, exposing the taut and firm muscle beneath, his wide pecs, dark nipples, his flat stomach and belly button, the trail of hair that leads down to...

You grip the seatbelt in your hands and turn your attention to clicking it into place, feeling yourself throb even more. God, he's so fucking hot. You can't blame all the women he's slept with for wanting to get in his pants, he's a fucking Adonis. You take a few deep breaths as he pulls away from the building, focusing on the small bursts of heat that are beginning to radiate from the vents in front of you. You rub your hands together, momentarily forgetting that he could probably see your breasts through your blouse if he looked over.

But that's just it...you never know when he's looking at you. And part of you wonders what would be so bad about him seeing you like this.

You drive together in silence for a few moments, an undeniable tension building and building the longer you both sit there without speaking. Every so often you can't help but let your eyes trail back over to his body, eyeing the way his wet shirt clings to his skin, beginning to slowly dry in small patches from the car heater. You can vaguely make out the shape of a scar on his abdomen and you find yourself wanting to reach out and trace your finger along the length of it, ask him how he got it, kiss it better.

"I feel you watching me, querida," he murmurs, eyes on the road.

Your eyes widen and you sit back in your seat stiffly, "S-sorry."

In your peripheral vision you see him smile, thumbing the steering wheel, "You're always watching me, aren't you?"

You don't know what to say, swallowing tightly around the lump you feel building in your throat. Is he about to call you out? Tell you to stop?

"That's okay, I'm always watching you too," he says it quietly like it's a secret, taking a heavy breath as he continues, "But you know that now, don't you? Steve's a little shit."

You can't help but laugh, which makes him grin wider. He looks over at you and you meet his gaze, feeling shy when his eyes drop to your chest and back up again.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he murmurs, eyes back on the road, "I'll be real gentle, I promise."

You stare at him, slightly confused. It's only a moment later that it dawns on you: you never told him your address.

"Where are we going?" you ask quietly, voice shaking slightly in anticipation.

He gives you another side glance, smiling kindly at you, "I think you already know, cariño."

No more than twenty minutes later he has you laid out on his bed completely bare, his mouth pressed firmly against your wet core as you writhe and moan under his touch. His palms are pressed flush against your stomach, holding you to the mattress, never releasing you even when you start shaking uncontrollably from your orgasm. He just keeps going, sucking on your clit and fingering your throbbing hole, nose buried in the patch of hair on your mound.

"Javi, Javi, Javi," you repeat over and over again, thrashing in his sheets, fisting the duvet. He'd told you as soon as he had you in his bed that he didn't want you calling him Javier anymore, and you'd had absolutely no problem with amending your vocabulary.

He hums, giving your clit one last hard suck and making you almost scream with overstimulation, body heaving up off the mattress as he finally pulls away from your core and looks up at you with those big brown eyes.

"That's it, querida, feels so good, doesn't it?" he breathes, crawling back up and pressing kisses against your skin as you come down from the pleasure, heart pounding in your chest, "Your little pussy needed me so bad, didn't she?"

"Yes," you whimper, voice weak, unable to say anything else as he continues to kiss along your breasts, your neck, your cheeks. His mustache is soft and welcoming against your skin, tickling every inch of it in the best way possible as he worships you.

You can't believe you're even here, lying in his bed, lights dim as the rain continues to pelt the windows and drench the city while Javier drenches you. He's still wearing the white shirt, still damp and tucked into his jeans. You reach forward and pull at his belt, fingers trembling.

"Oh, cariño," he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth hungrily, "Want my cock now, do you? Thought that might have been too much for you."

You shake your head quickly, feeling tears sting in your eyes at the thought of him not giving you what you want, "Please," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please, Javi. I need it so bad."

"You do," he agrees, hands trailing upward to squeeze your breasts, thumbing your hard nipples, "You need to get fucked, knew it from the moment I met you. Knew it had to be me to do it."

"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask, voice breathless as he begins to undo his belt, "Why didn't you talk to me?"

"Because you're so pretty, hermosa, so pure," he tosses his belt to the ground and reaches for the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head. Your eyes fall to his bare chest, his stomach, so much clearer now than they'd been through the wet fabric. He's absolutely perfect, and you feel yourself salivate as you reach up to palm the soft skin of his belly, feeling the hair under your fingertips, tracing the scar you'd seen earlier. He grabs your hand gently, squeezes it, "I knew if I talked to you, you'd end up right here. In my bed."

"And that would be a bad thing?" you whisper, eyes searching his, "This is bad?"

He shakes his head quickly, unbuttoning his jeans, "No, querida, this isn't bad. This is what you need, I know that now," he unzips himself and your jaw goes slack when you see that he isn't wearing any underwear, his cock completely bare and on display beneath the denim. He pulls himself out, showing you how long and thick he is, cut and curved, leaking from the tip. Some of it drips onto your tummy and you both watch it dribble down your skin, dipping into your belly button, "You need it," he whispers, "Knew it when you started looking at me like that."

"Like what?" you breathe, still staring at his large cock, wondering how it'll possibly fit inside you without splitting you in half.

"Like the way you're looking at my cock right now," he says softly, shuffling forward a bit on the bed, "Now, sit up, okay? Give it a kiss."

You don't need telling twice, scrambling amongst the sheets and crouching forward to envelop the head of his cock inside your mouth, warm and sticky on your tongue. You close your eyes, feeling them almost roll back in your head as you suck gently and swallow down his precome, tickling the back of your throat.

"Gonna see how much you can take, okay?" he says quietly above you, and you feel his hands in your hair, stroking your scalp reassuringly, "You can stop if it's too much."

You slowly move forward to take a few more inches, eyes still closed, only opening again when you feel his hands grip your hair tighter. You look up then, eyes lidded and heavy, and he's looking down at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Such a pretty mouth," he murmurs, thumbing the base of your neck, "Just made to have my cock in there, huh?"

You nod slowly, breathing through your nose and pushing yourself further, wanting to take as much of him as you possibly can. You get about three quarters down and feel the tip prod the back of your throat. You still, inhaling deeply and feeling tears well in your eyes, silently begging yourself not to gag.

"Just a little more, querida," he whispers, stroking your hair, "You can do it, I know you can."

With his soothing encouragement you slowly take the rest of him, not stopping until your nose is buried in his pubic hair. You inhale again and your senses are overwhelmed by his masculine, sweaty, musky scent. It's heaven. You open your eyes and look up at him, tears welling over and spilling down your cheeks.

"Oh, baby," he says, biting back a moan, "That's so good, knew you could do it," he feels you trembling on his cock, throat closing around the head, and he carefully slides you off.

You start coughing immediately, drool running down your chin in long ropes. You'd feel embarrassed but he's smiling at you, leaning down to press kisses to your forehead.

"You did so good," he praises, wiping your chin with his thumb and kissing your lips tenderly, tasting himself on your tongue, "Took all of it so well, querida."

"I can do it again," you say quickly through another cough, voice rough, "Just gimme a second."

He smiles wider and shakes his head, "I know you can, but you don't need to, not tonight. Just wanted to see if you could take the whole thing in that pretty mouth," he thumbs your lips and you immediately capture it between them, sucking his thumb feverishly. He groans slightly, watching it disappear, "and now that I know you can... we need to see how well it fits inside that perfect little pussy, hm? Think it'll fit?"

You nod immediately, releasing his thumb with a pop, "I'll make it fit."

He groans again, getting off the bed and pulling his jeans down his legs, "That's what I like to hear, baby." He pulls open his bedside table and grabs a condom, tossing it over to you, "Now put that on my dick, cariño, gotta be safe."

You shuffle to the edge of the bed, ripping the condom open with your teeth and sliding it down his length. You feel his eyes on you now; you'd never been able to feel it before, had no idea he'd even been looking at you, and now it's like his gaze is burning your skin. You lean forward and press one more kiss to the head of his cock, smirking when it twitches.

"Come here, hermosa," he mutters, taking your hand and carefully pulling you off the bed. You both stand there naked in front of each other as he leans down to kiss you tenderly, hand trailing up to press flush against your back. He's so beyond everything you could have ever hoped for; you still can't believe this is actually happening, "Stay there for a second," he whispers.

You watch as he gets on the bed and sits at the top, back leaning against the headboard. His cock stands stiff and inviting beneath him as he splays his legs out and opens his arms.

"Sit on my cock, querida," he breathes, and without any hesitation you climb into his lap, legs shaking as you grip his shoulders and hover above him, "Nice and slow," he whispers, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, "That's it."

The tip of his cock breaches your entrance and you keen at the sensation, still shaking slightly as you slowly ease yourself down on him. You're so wet, his length slipping inside easily at first, but once you get about halfway down your hips stutter and you whimper.

"You got it, baby," he breathes, thumbs splayed across your belly, "Not much more," he pushes inside a bit further and you cry out in ecstasy, burying your face in his shoulder. His hands move to your back, holding you tightly against him as he continues to fill you, not stopping until he bottoms out, "There," he murmurs, rubbing circles into the skin of your back, "That's all of it, cariño. Did so good, taking it so well for me."

You sit like that for a few moments, him whispering praises in your ear and rubbing your skin soothingly. He's so thick inside you, you've never felt so full. After a few more moments he carefully grips your hips and slowly begins to move you on his cock, up and down, watching your expression and reveling in the whines emitting from your throat.

"That's it," he says, brow furrowed as he keeps his eyes on your face, "That's what a real cock feels like, querida, and it's the only one you're gonna get from now on." Your face scrunches up in pleasure and you find yourself hiding in his shoulder again, wrapping your arms around him and starting to move your hips to match his pace.

"Javi," you whimper, feeling the head of his cock pushing against the deepest part of you every time you brace down, "So big inside me, Javi."

"I know, cariño," he murmurs, soothing you again with a gentle rub to your back, "Filling you up so good, huh?"

You hum and let yourself go, nose pressed into the dip of his collarbone as you still on his cock and let him go back to working you up and down, murmuring in your ear about how good you feel, what a perfect girl you are, how you'll never fuck anyone else but him for the rest of your life. And you want to believe it's true.

"Work won't be the same anymore," you say against his skin, voice muffled.

"Christ, baby, you're thinking about work?" he taps on your neck and you pull back to look at him, shivering as he continues to fuck you relentlessly as he speaks to you, "Don't think about work right now, querida, not when I've got my cock buried inside you."

"I want you to start fucking me at work," you say suddenly, brow furrowing in pleasure as he hits the deepest part of you again, "In secret, please."

He stills for a second, surprise appearing on his face before he smiles, starts fucking you again with even more fervor, grunting with very thrust.

"Of course I will, baby," he says, pressing his forehead against yours, gripping your hips tighter and fucking you fast and hard, so much so that you feel yourself writhe off the bed again, fingers clasping around nothing as you moan loudly, "I told you, ever since I met you I knew you needed this, needed my cock," he kisses you then, wet and hot, and you feel the tension in your belly start to build, "Gonna give it to you every chance I get from now on, I promise."

You whimper at his words, fucking yourself down on him as hard as you can and letting out cries of pure bliss as he begins to hit your favorite spot over and over, so impossibly deep inside you that you think maybe he will split you open. He rises off the bed with you a bit, holding you tight to him as he wildly bucks into you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Gonna come, hermosa," he whispers in your ear, breath hot and sticky against your skin, "Give me one more, get that pussy all wet for me," you let out an inhuman sound and feel yourself involuntarily bite into his shoulder, making him groan.

"I'm sorry," you moan, pulling back and seeing the crescent shaped mark in his flesh.

"For what?" he groans, and you feel his thumb start to prod your clit, rubbing it furiously, "Do it again, baby, mark me up, make me yours," you feel your orgasm overtake you at the words, fingernails digging into his back as you writhe and cry in his arms. Without hesitation you bite down on him again, not hard enough to break the skin but enough that there will most certainly be a mark there tomorrow.

He groans at the sensation, pulling you impossibly closer and stilling inside you as he pumps the condom full of his spend, twitching inside you at every pulse. He doesn't pull out right away, just lays still within you while you pant against his shoulder, eyeing the purple mark beginning to bloom on his skin.

"I bit you," you say, eyes wide.

He shifts slightly beneath you, cock still filling you up as he chuckles, "Yes, you did."

"I'm sor-"

He puts a hand up, shaking his head, "Don't apologize, cariño, I like it."

You nod slowly and carefully pull yourself off his cock, already missing the full sensation of having him deep inside you. You lay back on the bed beside him, eyes closed as he disposes of the condom and then settles himself tightly against your side, spooning you and pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck.

"Did you mean what you said?" you ask quietly, eyes still closed as you feel yourself begin to drift off in his embrace, "Will you really fuck me at work?"

He laughs, gorgeous and perfect in your ear, "Yes, mi sol, I meant it."

Javi takes you home early the next morning so you can change your clothes, not wanting Steve to know about what happened last night, as much as it would probably tickle him to know he had a hand in it. He waits for you outside, listening to the radio in his car and squinting against the bright sun, fingers tapping against the base of the window absentmindedly. After a few moments you come back out, wearing a yellow blouse this time in honor of your new nickname. He smiles radiantly at you and you know you made a good choice.

You both manage to keep Steve completely in the dark for the first part of the day; Javi goes back to ignoring you the way he usually does, which you have to admit makes you feel a little bad. But it's all water under the bridge when he follows you to the women's bathroom around noon and locks you inside one of the stalls with him. A few seconds later his cock is hitting the back of your throat as he proves to you that he wasn't lying.

"What's that?" Steve says in the late afternoon, only about an hour until you can go home. You look up from your desk but he isn't talking to you, his gaze fixed on Javi.

"What?" Javi replies, brow furrowing as he looks down at himself, "Got a bug on me or something?"

"No, you have a bite mark on your shoulder," Steve says matter-of-factly, and you feel your cheeks go hot, eyes widening as you stare at Javier and watch him figure out what to say.

He just shrugs coolly, "Yeah, slept with this wild bonita last night, she wanted to mark me," he looks back down at his work, "Your wife ever do shit like that, Murphy?"

Steve sighs deeply, leaning back in his chair, "No, she doesn't."

"Thought so," Javi smirks, still not looking up from his paperwork, and you watch as Steve twists his mouth into a scowl, shaking his head.

A few seconds later Steve's looking over at you, giving you a small look of what you can only describe as sympathy, "Sorry," he mouths, shrugging dejectedly, "My bad."

You give him a smile in return, shaking your head, unable to help the rush you feel at not getting caught.

"It's okay," you mouth back, "I'll get over it."

You know Javi is watching you this time.

thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip (entirely optional of course but much appreciated).

#javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #javier pena smut #javier peña smut #*

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gremlingottoosilly · 9 months

Note

I saw another anon ask about Konig and his little wifey who likes gifts and shiny things and just

Imagine

His little wifey doing a little fashion show for him with all the pretty outfits she’s bought

Maybe she even got a nice set of lingerie or two for hubby’s viewing pleasure?

Awwww, he loves seeing you happy like this! You're so pretty, he can't help but take pictures, so many of them, his recruits are going to groan from frustration for days on end while watching him being more and more whipped with each passing second. He isn't a fashionista and he doesn't know much about fashion and style and just loves everything you put on because gosh, his wife is so pretty! So nice!! He is a bit old-fashioned like that, he spends so much money on Polaroids! He loves to have the picture of every outfit you compile, and rotates the cutest ones in his vest whenever he goes out on missions - this guy is missing a death flag every time he takes up a picture of you in some expensive new coat or a really cool set of pants and jewelry, and kisses it before committing another war crime and killing a bunch of people. You look so awkward in the shopping center, it's insane. I can imagine Konig strolling through the shopping street with high-end shops in Vienna, hauling all of your bags like the good horsey he is because you wanted to go to ten different stores and gave him a show every time he whipped out his card to pay for everything! He will even allow you to style his clothes, just a little bit - nothing too much and god forbid you from buying him skinny jeans because he will reconsider giving you buying privileges. You buy yourself a nice lingerie but, unfortunately, Konig is an old soldier who doesn't respect art and knows jackshit about cute lingerie pieces that need to be taken out in a gentle and swift manner...he just ravages it from your body because he can't wait to unwrap you like a cute gift! He will buy you a new set later, don't you worry.

#cod #konig x reader #konig

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megalony · 5 months

Text

Below The Limit

This is a new Tommy Kinard imagine, loosely requested by anon. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17 @zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone

Tommy Kinard Masterlist

Summary: With (Y/n) having diabetes, Tommy likes to make sure she's okay when she's on shift. And when she isn't, he makes sure he'd there to look after her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tommy, hey. What can we do for you?" Chimney dropped the wash cloth down into the bucket by his feet and moved to plant both hands down on his hips.

His lips quirked into a smile when he noticed a familiar face waltzing into the station.

His gaze followed Tommy walking past the truck with an air of confidence about him like he was still part of this team. As if he always had and always would belong here, and the thought made Chimney smile.

A bashful look flustered across Tommy's face as his lips quirked into a lopsided smile that made his nose scrunch up and caused creases in the corners of his eyes. He glanced down at his feet for a moment while he had one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other hand was scrunched around the bag strap on his shoulder.

"Hey, is the missus about?"

His voice was as soft as the look his his eyes which darted around the station to see if (Y/n) was anywhere within sight.

Sometimes it felt strange to be back in this station house. Back where he had been a couple of years prior. Back somewhere that didn't feel like a home to Tommy like the Harbour now did. But it didn't feel so bad being back here when he knew this was where (Y/n) was; that the team now felt like a home and he was glad his wife was a part of it.

"Yeah, I think she's up in the kitchen, come on." Chimney waved over his shoulder and led the way towards the stairs with Tommy trailing close behind.

Tommy swiftly climbed the stairs, smiling softly and nodding his head when he locked eyes with Hen. She was sat on the sofa watching the news, nursing a cup of strong coffee that smelt like it had no milk in it whatsoever.

He turned to the left, his boots thudding against the polished floor announcing his presence to the rest of the team.

As soon as his eyes landed on (Y/n), a soft grin formed on his lips and the tension in his shoulders loosened as he approached the table. He let the bag slump down on his shoulder and silently walked up behind (Y/n).

His arms cocooned around her neck and he pressed his chest down into her shoulders, feeling the way (Y/n) jumped and gasped before she realised who it was. When Tommy pressed his lips down on the top of (Y/n)'s head, he felt her hands reach up and hold onto his forearms. She leaned back into him and turned her head to the right, pressing a soft kiss against Tommy's exposed neck.

(Y/n) let her eyes drag up and down her husband, feeling her heart thunder out a few extra beats at his attire. He was wearing a very thin, sleeveless grey top that showed off the way his arms bulged when they wrapped around her neck. And his blue jeans were pulled up high over his hips with his shirt tucked in.

"Hi," She whispered softly, rubbing her hand up and down his bicep while she leaned her head on his other arm. (Y/n) knew if she closed her eyes, she would be liable to fall asleep. This was how they slept when they were at home, with her tangled up in Tommy's arms like this.

"Hi babe." Tommy gave her shoulder a squeeze and pressed a kiss to her cheek as he swayed (Y/n) from side to side. He felt the way he shivered when he lifted his head and moved to hover his lips over her ear. "I brought you your meds."

Tommy kissed her cheek again before he leaned round to steal one from her lips. When he stood up properly, his hands moved to hold her shoulders as (Y/n) leaned her head back into his abdomen and smiled up at him.

"Thank you."

(Y/n) gave his wrist a squeeze before she got up from her seat at the table and slid her hand into Tommy's palm. Her fingers squeezed his hand tight and she gave his arm a tug until he grinned and followed her around the side of the table and over into the kitchen.

When they got into the otherwise empty kitchen, (Y/n) spun round and pressed her hips back against the counter and moved her hands to grasp the countertop. Her head tilted back to look up at her husband who towered over her with a coy grin as he moved to stand between her legs.

He slid the backpack off his shoulder and slumped it down on the counter beside (Y/n) before his hands moved to hold her hips. He gave her a squeeze and pressed down against her until their hips were touching and their chests were merged together. His thumbs glided across her hips and he took a few seconds to look her up and down, drinking her in as if he hadn't seen (Y/n) in days rather than just hours.

"Do you feel okay? How's your shift been?" Tommy kept his voice quiet, although there was only Chimney and Eddie sat at the kitchen table and they weren't listening in.

He smiled when (Y/n) let go of the counter to drag her hands up his arms until she was holding his biceps.

"Three calls in less than two hours this morning. I'm ready for home," (Y/n) let her head fall in the centre of Tommy's chest which rumbled as he laughed and made her stomach flood with adrenaline.

She loved the way his thumbs stroked up and down her hips and his fingers gave her a squeeze every now and then. And she could feel his lips merging with her hair again and the touch made her shiver.

So far (Y/n)'s shift had been hectic. They had been on more callouts this morning than the last shift (Y/n) had been on last week. For it being her first shift back after a week off sick, she had certainly come back with a bang. But she knew in six hours she could head home and be with Tommy.

He had been on shift last night and was finally heading home, so he had a few hours to kill until (Y/n) came off shift and could come back home. That was why he was here. He had finished work and picked (Y/n)'s meds up along the way home because he knew she wouldn't have chance and she was running low.

"Tell me you've had lunch, or do I have to crack open the insulin before I go?"

Tommy's hand slid up from (Y/n)'s hip to cradle the side of her neck and he tilted her head back so they were level. His nose nudged hers as he swooped down and stole a kiss, tasting the orange juice on her lips which told Tommy she was trying to keep her sugar levels up.

He felt (Y/n)'s hands glide from his biceps to hold his shoulders so she could push up on her toes and be level with him but he pulled back far too soon for her liking.

His fingers curled around the back of her neck and he arched a brow, waiting for a response while he reached over her and opened his bag.

"Chicken sandwich and an apple for good measure. Is that okay, Pilot?"

"I suppose that's good enough. But take it easy, please? I know what it's like when it's a busy shift."

God knows Tommy had had enough busy shifts down at the Harbour to know it was very easy to miss meals or forget about a drink and start to dehydrate. But he couldn't have that happening with (Y/n). Skipping one meal would throw off her blood sugar and give her a dip in glucose levels which she didn't need.

He didn't want (Y/n)'s first shift back to be one where she had to go home early because she'd overdone things and made herself sick. If he thought for one second that she was already wearing herself thin, Tommy would take her back home with him right now.

"Don't worry, I've got a stash of chocolate bars in the truck and cartons of juice in the fridge. And there's a sweet box I keep dipping into, I'll be fine."

She always brought in fruit juice and cans of pop so she had sugary drinks on hand in case of a hypo state. And there was a box of small chocolate bars, mainly Freddos, tucked under one of the seats in the truck. It was easier for (Y/n) to have a little boost of chocolate before they went into busy, exercising situations so she wouldn't wear herself down and run low on sugar.

Plus, they all brought sweets and treats in for when they were bored or on the move. And sweets helped (Y/n) after a big call out and she needed to boost her levels back up again.

"Hm, good."

Tommy stole another kiss before he rummaged around in his bag and got out the white paper bag.

"You've got some glucagon in there, we burned through all the reserves the other week. Keep some here and I'll take the rest home."

His hands fell down to hold (Y/n)'s hips when she spun so her hips were pressed into the counter and her bum was pressed back into Tommy. She opened the bag and took a look through while she felt his lips attach to her shoulder.

(Y/n) hadn't been well during the last two weeks and she had to have all of last week off work. Tommy had taken a few days off to look after her and he had been surprised at how much glucagon they had gone through. (Y/n) had insulin and a few different forms of glucose, but for emergencies such as a hypoglaecemic state, she had glucagon injections.

Tommy had never had to give (Y/n) so many injections as he did during the last two weeks. He had to explain to the chemist that they needed more in case (Y/n) had any more hypo states. She kept some injections at home, but she had to keep some here at the station for emergencies.

She had spare insulin, glucose sachets, glucose powder and glucagon injections in her medical bag here in the station.

"Thank you babe." (Y/n) took out what she needed and put the rest back in Tommy's backpack, but her eyes lit up and she reached inside his bag for the pack of jelly babies she just spotted. She felt him murmur "How did I know you'd find those." against her shoulder as if he had bought them for himself.

They both knew he got those especially for (Y/n).

They were one of her favourites and they were a great source of sugar when she needed a boost.

She took them out the bag and hid them in one of the kitchen cupboards with the rest of her stash. (Y/n) could always count on Tommy to hide a pack of sweets or a few chocolate bars into her work bag when she wasn't looking. She would never run out of reserves. Tommy wouldn't let that happen.

"Alright, now you're stocked up, I can go home."

"You're leaving me?"

He knew she was joking but the look in her eyes made Tommy's knees go weak and his stomach flooded with adrenaline. His hands cupped her face and he kissed her deeply while he groaned against her.

"Get back to work before I take you home with me, babe. I'll see you tonight." If he stayed here much longer either Tommy wouldn't go home or he would drag (Y/n) back with him and end her shift early. He needed to go now while he had the willpower to tear himself away from her.

***

3.7MMOL.

*Baby you need to get some sugar in your system, you're below the limit. Xx

Tommy tapped his phone against his palm and glanced up towards the sky like he was looking for answers or praying for a swift reply.

He needed (Y/n) to answer him.

Due to her diabetes, she had a Dexcom which was a small device on her abdomen that constantly checked and took readings of her glucose levels. For safety reasons, both (Y/n) and Tommy had the app on their phones. It alerted (Y/n) when she needed to boost her levels or when she had too much glucose and was going to have a hyper.

It was also good for if her levels dropped during the night because sometimes (Y/n) would sleep through it and wake up feeling horrid. But the app sent alerts and Tommy was a light sleeper. He got the alerts and made sure she was okay.

And right now, his alerts were going wild.

He continued to tap his phone against his hand while his shoulders rested up against the wall and he crossed one leg over the other.

*Baby, are you okay? Have you managed to eat anything yet? Xx

He began to turn his phone around and around in circles, but he wasn't getting any response. All he could see was the Dexcom alerts that showed her levels weren't rising yet, meaning (Y/n) either hadn't managed to eat or drink anything. Or, she was, but it wasn't helping and if that was the case, Tommy would have to go and make sure she was alright.

She was on shift and that made Tommy even more worried. What if this was happening while she was in the middle of a call? What if she didn't have her phone on her and couldn't see the alerts? What if she confused the hypo symptoms with general exhersion from the job?

"Hey Kinard, you ready?"

His eyes darted to the right when a colleague, Andrew, patted his shoulder and nodded towards the chopper. Had they gotten a callout and Tommy had completely missed the announcement?

He couldn't go out on a call. He couldn't fly them out into an unknown situation with his phone sending off alerts every two minutes and Tommy sat there, unable to check on (Y/n).

"Give me a minute." He looked back down at his phone, about to swipe across to (Y/n)'s contact when another notification popped up on the screen.

Glucose levels: 3.3MMOL

"Fuck!"

He couldn't go now. He had to go and check what was happening. If (Y/n)'s levels dropped anymore than this she was at risk of a seizure or going unconscious. And the last time that happened, Tommy had spent the night in the emergency room and the next two days in the hospital with (Y/n) slipping in and out of consciousness. He wasn't doing that again. He needed to go and find out if his wife was alright.

His heart gave a sudden pound in his chest when his phone started to ring and sent jolts of electricity running along his nerves and up his arms.

"Eddie?" Why was Eddie calling him? Wasn't he supposed to be on shift today? Hadn't Tommy already told him that he too was on shift? They didn't have any plans, they were supposed to be going out for drinks the day after tomorrow.

"Hey Tommy, sorry I know you're at work, but, uh, we've got a situation down here."

He knew. He just knew that Eddie was talking about (Y/n). Why else would he be calling Tommy? It wasn't as if Tommy was part of their team or someone they would call to cover a shift or diffuse a situation. His only connection to the 118, other than his friendship with some of the team, was his wife.

"How bad is she?"

"Sweating and having heart palpitations. She's had some sweets and a can of Fanta but she doesn't look good, we're waiting to see if her levels rise now. Any chance-"

"I'm on my way. Do not give her anything else until I get there."

They had to wait at least ten minutes after giving (Y/n) a drink or something to eat. Her body needed time to even out and for the sugar to do its magic and raise her glucose levels again. Then if it didn't work, they could try giving her something else to see if it would work. But Tommy didn't want them giving (Y/n) anything, not until he got there and checked how bad she was for himself.

"Kinard, is everything okay?"

"No. I need to go get my wife."

It was a surprisingly short trip from the Harbour down to the 118 station and Tommy couldn't have been more thankful.

His car keys circled round on his thumb, swinging back and forth until the keychain that depicted him and (Y/n) was continuously bashing into the palm of his hand. His work boots thudded against the polished floor and both hands clenched into fists, imbedding his keys into his palm like he was creating a mould.

"Where is she?" His voice dropped two octaves and deep frown lines appeared in his forehead when Buck came into his line of sight. He didn't have time for pleasantries, he needed to find (Y/n).

"Up in the annex." Buck pointed over his shoulder and turned, guiding Tommy up the stairs towards the kitchen he had only been in three days ago.

He didn't like what he saw. When his eyes locked on his wife, his chest puffed out and he held his breath. She was sat on the sofa, arms bound around her chest with her head tilted down and her body moving back and forth as she sat trembling.

He could see a can of Fanta opened on the coffee table, the pack of jelly babies he brought the other day were ripped open along with a chocolate bar and a glass of orange juice. None of which were finished and all of which clearly weren't doing anything to raise (Y/n)'s levels.

Bobby was leaning over the back of the sofa, both hands clamped down on the cushion like he was going to break it apart. Hen was sat next to (Y/n) on the sofa with a hand on her shoulder, and Eddie was sat on the coffee table. Tommy could see (Y/n)'s phone resting on Eddie's knee and he figured he was checking her Dexcom app to watch her levels to see if they were rising or not.

As soon as he walked over, Eddie got up and moved to stand near the kitchen table with Buck. (Y/n) didn't need everyone crowding round her when she didn't feel well.

"How are we doing, baby?"

A jolt ran through (Y/n)'s system when she looked up and realised Tommy was here.

He was in his overalls.

The royal blue uniform he wore tightened and tensed around his shoulders and bunched over his hips when he crouched down in front of her. The material strained at his knees which pressed into the sofa while he crouched down between her knees and moved his hands to grip her thighs comfortingly.

"I- I'm sorry-"

"No, no apologies. Let's have a look at you."

She had made him leave work to come here. (Y/n) didn't want him to have to do that. But the stern look on his face stopped the panic from bubbling away in her head. He wasn't annoyed at her; he had chosen to come down here and he wouldn't have her apologise for that.

His hand slithered up to cup the side of her neck and he smiled softly while he felt her pulse. The palpitations were still present, but they weren't as bad as Tommy was expecting. Or as bad as (Y/n) had experienced last week while she was off work.

He reached across for her phone and took a look. Her levels were still below 4 and that wasn't good.

"Let's have another try and see how we go. Can you have a drink for me?" Tommy turned round and grabbed the can of Fanta from the table and held it out. One more try to see if food or a drink would even her levels out and if not, they would have to try something else.

(Y/n) tried to curl her hand around the can but she whimpered when the can began to shake and the pop fizzled around the rim and trickled down her hand. Her eyes locked with her husband when he curled his hand around hers and moved the can towards her lips.

After a few sips, she let Tommy take the can and put it back down and she moved her hands to hold onto his forearms.

He stroked his thumbs across her thighs while (Y/n) kept hold of his arms like she was making sure he wasn't about to leave her. As if he would. He thought about getting her to try some more sweets, but she didn't look like she could try and stomach any more. The dazed look in her eyes told Tommy it would be dangerous to get her to try and eat in case she passed out.

The shaking continued and it looked like the couple were trying some strange dance together.

But when (Y/n)'s head suddenly felt too heavy to hold up, her chin tilted down and her head flopped forward with her body following suit. Tommy pushed up on his knees just in time for (Y/n)'s head to collide with his shoulder and send his nerves shooting from the collision.

He moved his hands from her thighs to dig into her hips instead while Hen quickly leaned over and held onto (Y/n)'s upper arms to reel her up so she didn't fall down to the floor.

"No, baby you need to stay awake with me. Come on, up we go." He pushed up from his knees and eased (Y/n) backwards while he sat down on the sofa beside her.

As soon as he was sat down, Tommy carefully laid (Y/n) up against his chest with her head tucked into the crook of his neck. He could feel her quietly groaning into his skin and when her hand flopped onto his thigh, he breathed in relief. She was still conscious.

"I brought some more glucagon injections the other day, can someone grab it please? If her levels don't rise I need to take her to the hospital."

Eddie headed over to the kitchen. He already knew Buck wouldn't know what he was looking for and he wasn't sure Bobby would know either. He hurried into the kitchen and opened the end cupboard where (Y/n) kept all of her meds and her drinks and sweets.

"Baby, you still with me? I need to give you an injection, okay?" Tommy's left arm stayed wrapped around (Y/n)'s waist, keeping her tucked up into his chest. While his right hand cupped her cheek and tilted her head back enough so he could look down at her and make sure she was coherent.

When she grumbled and gave his thigh a light squeeze, Tommy shifted his hands down to (Y/n)'s waist. He turned her around as slowly and carefully as he could and leaned (Y/n)'s back up against his chest so she was slouched against him.

Her head fell back on his shoulder and when (Y/n) felt his right arm swoop around her waist, she flopped her trembling hand down to clench around his forearm.

(Y/n) couldn't find the will to open her eyes, but she kept squeezing his arm every few seconds so he knew she was still awake and somewhat alert to what was going on.

As soon as Eddie came back through, Bobby held out his hand, a silent gesture that he would be the one giving (Y/n) her injection. As much as she loved and trusted her team, she didn't want any of them to do her medication. She only trusted Tommy with that job role. And he didn't like the thought of someone else giving his wife her medication.

"Okay, arm out for me sweetheart."

Tommy perched his chin on (Y/n)'s left shoulder while Hen gently held her wrist to keep her arm steady since she was still trembling like they were stood in the Arctic. His right hand curled tighter around her waist, pinning her into his chest so he could tap his thumb over her elbow to find where best to inject the glucagon.

It was a good job he'd done this hundreds of times already and that he was used to giving her the injection from this angle. His lips pressed down against her shoulder when she whimpered and tilted her forehead against his.

"Shh, sweetheart, all done." He managed a smile when Bobby took the used needle from him to go and dispose of it.

Tommy's hand pressed down against (Y/n)'s stomach while his other hand smoothed up and down her arm. He merged his lips against her cheek and sat her up a bit straighter just to make sure she didn't fall asleep. If she went unconscious he would have to take her to the hospital and he knew she never wanted to do that. She hated the hospital.

He could feel himself counting the minutes in his head. He needed (Y/n) to react. He needed her phone to buzz with a notification that the injection had worked and her levels were rising back to where they should be. He needed her to perk up and be out the danger zone so he could take her home.

Tommy held his breath and stayed motionless when (Y/n) suddenly moved down to hold his arm. He could tell it took her some effort to lift his arm and he wondered what she was doing. But his lips curved into a melting grin when she wrapped his arm around her upper chest just below her neck and he realised what she wanted.

She wanted comfort; she wanted a cuddle.

He curled his left hand around her shoulder and tensed his arm across her collarbone. His heart flipped and increased in rhythm when (Y/n) tilted her chin down and kissed his arm. Both her hands curled around his forearm that she was kissing and she snuggled down against his chest and he could tell she felt calmer when he started to sway them from side to side.

"Hey, I think it's working." Eddie picked up (Y/n)'s phone and held it out for them all to take a look.

A notification popped up. Her levels were steadily crawling back up towards 4MMOL and as long as they kept getting higher and got anywhere above 4, (Y/n) would be okay.

"Thank God," Tommy murmured against the top of her head while he slowly uncurled his arm from her waist so he could grab the glass of juice. He knew going into a hypo always made (Y/n) feel thirsty and he would feel better if she had some more to drink to keep herself conscious and alert.

(Y/n) tried to take a few sips but she had to put the glass down and she went straight back to cradling Tommy's arm to her chest.

"I feel sick," She whispered hoarsely while she blinked a few times to clear her hazy vision. She could feel the shaking starting to subside and she was starting to feel more alert and awake, but she felt like she was going to throw up. Not uncommon when she had an episode, but (Y/n) hated feeling like this.

"That should wear off soon."

"You need to go home and get something to eat. And don't think you're coming in tomorrow, I'll change the rota and swap you to Friday instead." Bobby's tone and his expression was one not to be messed with. (Y/n) couldn't stay for the last four hours of her shift today, not after an episode like this. It would only make her a liability for this happening again.

She needed to rest and it was nearing tea time so she would need to go and get something to eat and hope that would help settle her system. And Bobby knew it would be best if she had tomorrow off to level her system out and she could come in on Friday instead so she didn't lose any hours.

He knew Tommy would give him a call if (Y/n) wasn't well enough to come in Friday.

Hen whispered a soft "I'll go get your stuff," and she patted (Y/n)'s thigh before she got up to go down to the locker room.

"Right, shall we get you home?"

(Y/n) tilted her head back on Tommy's shoulder and moved her hand to cup the side of his neck. She brushed her thumb across his jaw, noticing the intrigue in his eyes when she bit down on her lower lip. "You're on shift-"

"You can think again if you think I'm leaving you like this. I'm taking you home, that's final. Come on, sweetheart." There was no way Tommy was taking her home and then going back to work. He had already cleared it to end his shift early. Everyone at the Harbour was more than understanding when Tommy explained about (Y/n)'s condition and the fact that he needed to look after her.

His hands shifted down to her hips and he carefully eased (Y/n) forward. He let her lean back on his chest and use him as a prop to hold her up while he pushed up from the sofa.

But when Tommy realised her knees were quaking, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head.

He stood in front of her, shifted his hands down to her thighs and lifted her up effortlessly like she weighed nothing more than a pillow. (Y/n) gasped and quickly hooked her legs around his waist and looped her arms around the back of his neck. Her temple fell forward onto his shoulder and she began to glide her fingers up and down the back of his neck until Tommy growled quickly and caused her to stop.

She could feel the way he held her in place on his torso with just one arm wrapped around the back of her thighs. He leaned down and grabbed her phone with his free hand and followed Bobby down the stairs. It was as if (Y/n) weighed nothing and the ease he held her with and his combined, flattering grin made (Y/n)'s stomach jump.

Her lips attached to his neck just behind his ear and she grazed her teeth against his skin. She smiled into his neck when his free hand slapped against her thigh while he twisted his head to kiss her temple.

"Let's get you home, hm?"

***

Tilting her head down, (Y/n) nudged her nose against the side of Tommy's neck while she looped her arms tighter around his shoulders. Her fingers tickled the back of his neck and ragged up and down the short hairs until he had to lean his head back when she made him shiver.

She kept her eyes closed while she pressed a tender, butterfly kiss against his neck and pressed her knees tighter into his hips. Her lips curved into a grin against his neck when she felt his hands move.

Tommy slid his left hand up beneath her shirt so his fingers could trace over her bare skin and trace the dips and curves of her spine. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head and wedged his other hand past the band of her leggings so he could give her hip a squeeze.

He knew she wasn't watching the movie anymore. He wasn't sure she had even been watching to begin with and at one point he thought she had fallen asleep, but she proved she was awake now.

He slouched down into the sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table, crossing one ankle over the other while (Y/n) shimmied on his lap and curled up against his chest.

When she finally bothered to open her eyes, (Y/n) pressed her temple into the side of Tommy's jaw. She was about to turn her head and see how far into the movie they were, but her eyes suddenly locked on Tommy's phone that was laid out on the sofa next to his thigh.

He had her Dexcom app open on his phone.

He was checking her levels, even while he had (Y/n) sat here on his lap awake and content, proving that she felt better than this afternoon. He wanted to watch her levels and pounce the second her levels dropped below 4. Tommy wasn't willing to go through another hypo. Not when he was here to look after her.

(Y/n)'s lips curved into a tender smile against his neck when she realised he kept flitting his eyes down to his phone every now and then, making sure he noticed any dip in her levels.

"You feeling okay?" He murmured quietly against the top of her head while his hand continued to rub circles up and down her back. And (Y/n) could feel the pad of his index finger tracing each column of her spine like they were bumps in the road he was counting.

"Just tired."

"Tired, or drowsy?" He hummed when (Y/n) shrugged and pressed a tingling kiss right beneath his jaw which made him take a deep breath. "Can you try some chocolate then? Stop your levels from dropping any further."

(Y/n) tightened her arms around his neck when Tommy pressed his palm flat against her back and leaned forward. Their chests meshed together and he turned his head to plant a sloppy kiss against her cheek while his hand reached out onto the coffee table and grabbed the pack of chocolate buttons.

He slouched back into the sofa and inched down a little more until he was almost fully reclined with (Y/n) tilted forward into his chest.

He placed the bag down next to his phone and he smiled when (Y/n) took a small handful.

Her levels had been going up and down since Tommy brought her home and although she felt a lot better now, he didn't want to risk her having another hypo. Which was why he'd got the app open so he could see if her levels dropped so the moment they did, he could get her to eat or drink something and perk them back up. And if her levels rose too high, he would go and grab her meds from the kitchen.

(Y/n) popped two chocolate buttons in her mouth and held one out against Tommy's lips. Her stomach fluttered with adrenaline when he gladly accepted the chocolate and kissed the pad of her thumb in the process.

She took a few more chocolates while her cheek rested on Tommy's shoulder and her arm stayed around the back of his neck.

But after a few minutes, (Y/n) slowly lifted herself up and sank back on Tommy's thighs. Her hands moved to cradle either side of his neck and she loved the way his eyes instantly fell on her and his head tilted back against the sofa so he was staring up at her. He was giving her his full attention as both hands moved to hold her hips.

"Can we go to bed?"

She got her answer when he reached across for the tv remote and turned the tv off without a word.

Leaning forward, (Y/n) sank back down against his chest and attached her lips to his. She could taste the chocolate on his lips and the sugary taste and the feel of Tommy's teeth grazing her lips had her nerves tingling and sparking like electricity.

Their lips barely parted, pulling back to suck in another gasping breath before Tommy was taking control of her lips again. His hands slithered down to cup the back of her thighs while he leaned forward, squashing her chest into his so he could push forward and stand up. He kept (Y/n) sat low on his torso, her thighs pinned around his hips in a tight embrace that made him smile against her lips.

He took two steps away from the sofa before he groaned against her mouth and pulled back so he could look what he was doing.

It was hard to concentrate when he felt (Y/n)'s hands glide up from his neck to cup his face. Her thumbs brushed across his cheekbones and she watched him slip his phone into his back pocket. But it was when he grabbed the pack of chocolates that (Y/n)'s eyes furrowed and she looked at him quizzically.

"What're you doing?"

Her lips attached to the side of his jaw and she felt him give her thigh a tight squeeze while a smirk formed on his lips and his nose scrunched.

"Trust me, you're gonna need the sugar."

#imagine #911 imagine #tommy x reader #tommy kinard 911 #tommy kinard imagine #tommy kinard #tommy kinard x reader #eddie diaz #bobby nash

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jeongin-lvr · 1 month

Note

opinions on riding changbin’s thigh 😵‍💫?

sooooo 🤭 you know me so well anon, I love his thighs so much :3 tw. thigh riding, petnames.

I’m thinking of biker husband! Changbin who gets home from a long day of work, still wearing his helmet and form fitting jacket & jeans… little does he know his pretty little wife has been practically drooling for him all day. You’d spent the day getting lost in your own imagination, waiting patiently for him as the slow, tedious hours ticked by one by one. As soon as you hear the keys jingling and the door lock clicking open you leap up and great him with an eager hug and kiss— making sure to run your hands up and down his arms and torso.

“You okay, princess?” He whispers as your hands swipe up and down his body, re-familiarizing yourself with his touch. Of course, you nod, happily watching as Changbin took off his helmet, revealing his messy hair, slightly damp with rain water and sweat— droplets leaking down onto your cheek as he moved. You hummed, biting your lip, this time catching Changbin’s attention once again.

“Missed me?” He chuckles when you eagerly nod in response, “Missed you too, baby. Let’s go sit.” He’s always so gentle and lovely with you. Letting you cling to him because he enjoys it— he always reciprocates the touches, this time grabbing your hips and leading you to the couch a few steps away. You bounce on your heels when he sits then pats his lap, the tight stretch of fabric over his thick, muscular thighs makes you squirm. You shyly smile and slink into him immediately at his command, “Bin, I have a confession.”

Your husband’s face lights up at your words that cut through the silence, he pats your thigh, smiling as he listens. “Don’t make fun of me— but I’ve been horny, like, all day.” Changbin laughs loudly at your words, tilting his head as your hands lay flat and still on his broad chest. Changbin continues to laugh as he speaks, “Really now? So you’ve been waiting for me all day to fix that for you?” You grow bashful at his words and shyly nod your head, blinking away from his big, brown eyes. He chuckles again, this time more understanding in a lower tone, “I can help you, baby, jus’ gotta ask me.”

You look back up at him and it’s almost like torture as you speak. The words are leaving your mouth in shy little mumbles, cheeks heating up dangerously quick. His stare is like a million suns blasting against your skin; tearing into you as he soaks in every little syllable you utter, “Need your help, Bin, please.”

You pats your thigh again, his fingers quickly beginning to knead into your flesh, tugging at the fat in your thigh. He’s tired, so tired. He’s been up for too long working hard to please you and keep you happy. But he’s more than willingly to help you a little bit extra; he grips your hips and situates your body over his thigh, making sure the thin material of your shorts doesn’t get in the way. He hums and his fingers continue rubbing at your plush thigh, “M’ a little tired right now, baby… why don’t you use my thigh to get off, okay?”

And there he goes being so sweet and tender again, palming your skin as he helps you get a good start— pulling and dragging your hips against his muscular thigh. He makes sure to flex his muscles a little harder, occasionally bouncing his leg upward as he watches in absolute awe. You immediately whimper— this is exactly what you’ve been wanting all day. Your handsome, doting husband to help you feel some relief. You shiver as your clothed clit got rubbed so good through the thinly veiled material, your lips parted in an ‘O’ and eyebrows scrunched together. Pleasure surged through your weakening body. You were putty in his hands, his little hums of approval edging you on. “There ya go, baby, use my thigh,” He encouraged as your hips began rubbing down on him faster beyond his control. You sigh in relief when you hear those words, “Th-thank you, Binnie…” You made sure to show your appreciation by letting out your prettiest sounds for him. Changbin nodded along, eyes perpetually fixated on when your heat met his denim thigh. Even though there was material veiling him from you, the wet heat seeped out into the material, showcasing just exactly how desperate you were for him right now.

Changbin soaked up the sight, “Baby gonna cum for me? Cum on Binnie’s thigh, baby.” He slightly patted your thigh again, bouncing his leg up against you quicker, “Let go for me, princess.”

After a days worth of pent up neediness that’s really all you needed to feel the sudden release of your orgasm blast through you. You violently shook, the wet stain on your shorts only growing as he helped you ride out your orgasm with his hands on your full hips. You sighed shakily, finally coming back down to earth. Changbin’s eyes flitted down to your clothed pussy, eyeing the mess you made before looking back up at you, “Better?”

You nodded sweetly, eyes unfocused as you immediately laid your head down, “Thank you, Binnie,” You repeated, feeling his hands loop around your waist, holding you steady as you fully relaxed into him.

#౨ৎ. dee’s hard hours #feat. changbin .ᐟ #changbin smut #skz smut #seo changbin smut #seo changbin #stray kids smut

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vickyzangels · 1 year

Text

% “top floor motel suite, twistin’ my cigars..”

# synopsis ; post-concert adrenaline? you two sneak off after a performance (girl idk) also another anon requested tom and reader fuck before a concert while i was writing this so i hope close enough

# pairing ; tom kaulitz x fem!reader

# word count ; 835

# tags ; nsfw (mdni), fingering, oral (f receiving), no specified relationship, this is probably ass but i’ve seen worse

a/n ; wow a smut so soon how bold🧍🏻‍♀️

also “meine frau” - my woman/wife (you guys aren’t actually married it’s just a nickname don’t get your hopes up delulu)

teeth grinding together as you both pushed your way into a backroom. tokio hotel’s performance ended and as soon as they left the stage to make room for the next, tom dropped off his guitar to grab you and pull you away (obviously not without bill looking at you two weirdly, he knows what you two have been doing 👁️👁️). the process of running into the room, slamming the door, and ending up against it while making out with each other was blurry, but here you two were moaning into each other's mouths just like after every concert.

he held one of his arms against the door next to your head and had the other one holding your side under your shirt, using his thumb to rub slow, small, and gentle circles into your skin innocently like he wasn’t currently lifting his knee to rub you through your jeans. the friction was so perfect with how it rubbed against your clit through your panties and kept making you buck onto his leg. the feeling was so engulfing, with your eyes screwed shut and panting into the air with tom moving down to your neck leaving kisses, by god if an angel came down to take you to heaven you’d say no. not like you’d make it in, anyway with what you two were doing

“meine frau, you’re so impatient.”

“i- what?”

he pulled back, keeping his arm next to your head and on your side, and looked at you with those eyes that under any other circumstance would make you want to vomit and tear your hair out for good reason but right now he was smirking. that smug asshole.

he laughed, “i said you’re so impatient. hey, you’re getting yourself off on my leg, don’t lie and say you’re not!”

your face was starting to contort, it looked sour. is he serious? while you were literally riding his leg, he calls you impatient? he was starting to see your change of mood like he was getting worried he ruined it.

“listen, i was just joking, i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

“and how do you plan to do that?”

“..i’ll eat you out.”

and before you knew it, you ended up sitting on the table against the vanity mirror shoving everything off of it to make room for you. something sweet about you two was that despite being similar in personality, a lot of your physical features mirrored each other. like how he always wore baggy jeans and you wore tighter ones, which would be cute in other conditions but right now while tom was trying to pull your jeans off to kiss your waist, it was more of an inconvenience.

thankfully, they came off and tom made quick to kneel and put his head between your thighs, sucking the insides to leave hickeys and inching closer to your cunt. somehow you hadn’t noticed till now that you were painfully throbbing, your thighs covered in slick and wanting to close your legs, only stopping yourself from doing so because you remembered tom was between you. not that he’d complain about being suffocated with your legs.

tom had been kissing his way closer to your pussy and it was driving you insane how close he was to pleasing you but he just.. hadn’t. you opened your mouth, starting to weakly beg him to touch you, pleasure you, when he finally flattened his tongue against you and licked a long stripe of your pussy.

“..please, tom, touch me- holy fucckk!”

he started to suck on you, reaching up his fingers in a v-shape and running them up and down your folds to later hold them at the entrance, prodding at it just barely enough to enter you. he’s a bit preoccupied but if he had a mouth to talk, he’d say something about how desperate you were for him, but it looks like he pities you and finally pushed a finger into you to move with slow strokes.

he kept his consistently slow speed by lapping at your slick, pushing in a second finger and turning it upwards to curl them inside you. the strokes and curls of his finger were starting to speed up and match the new motion of his tongue flicking your clit.

“god! shit-“ you moaned.

a knot in your stomach was starting to form and every single passing second of hearing tom lap loudly at your juices and the additional gushing from his fingers and mouth kept pulling the knot tighter and tighter. he kept groaning into your cunt, every word he repeated vibrating through you. you were dangerously close, bucking against his face like a bronco to have his nose continuously rub your clit.

“fuck, tomm! i’m- shit- i’m gonna cum!” weaving your hand into his dreads and riding his face to your release, squirting your slick through your orgasm. he kept sucking and lapping at you, resisting your weak attempts to push his head off you before finally stopping to kiss around you cunt. through your heavy breaths, “..your turn?”

“yeah.” he uses the table next to your legs to push himself up, quickly going to fumble with the belt over his pants, nearly getting the entire strap off before-

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

tom was the one to answer, “wer ist da?” who’s there?

“oi, du musst raus, wir gehen und nein, du kannst keine 5 minuten mehr haben, mach es im hotel.” hey, you need to get out, we’re leaving and no you can’t have 5 more minutes, do it at the hotel.

…

“verdammt noch mal.” damn it.

a/n ; working on this for 3 days straight with 2 allnighters while ignoring how awkward it is to write it just to hate how it comes out then give up towards the end is crazy… 😟

#tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #tokio hotel #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel fanfic #Spotify

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wholoveseggs · 7 months

Note

Can I maybe have an angst/fluff where the reader had turned her humanity off and Elijah is trying his best to flip it back on? Thank you!! Love your work 💕

Forgiveness

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

After a tragic event you flip your humanity switch and begin to terrorize the Quarter. You have to be put down for the good of the city, but your husband will stop at nothing to save you.

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon(s) sorry it took so long! ♡♡

5.5k words - Warnings: so so so angsty, violent, reader does some evil shit, a bit of sex but its not sexy, this is definitely the darkest thing I've ever written.. you want angst??? you get angst.

Marcel sat on a stool in a dimly lit bar, staring into his glass of whiskey. He wondered how much more loss he could take, and when it would finally break him.

He was experiencing a kind of helplessness he hadn't experienced since he was a boy, sneaking half rotten apples in his shirt, running home as fast as he could so he wouldn't be caught.

He couldn't outrun his feelings now. They followed him wherever he went, nipping at his heels, mocking him for the things he couldn't fix, the things he couldn't undo.

It wasn't his fault, not really, yet he felt guilty, because a part of him still cared for you. Even after all you had done. All you had become.

He was pulled out from his melancholy by one of his nightwalkers, a vampire called Arthur, a man who had served in the first World War, and came to New Orleans, looking for the easy life.

He sat down next to Marcel and placed a gold chain necklace on the table, it had distinct little jewels, each one a different color. Marcel recognized it instantly and his heart sank at the flecks of blood still clinging to it.

"Jean," he said softly, picking the necklace up and examining it.

Arthur nodded his head. "I found her in an alleyway, anyone could of come across it," he told Marcel.

"How bad?" Marcel asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not pretty. I got rid of the body."

"Thanks," Marcel said, and he meant it. He didn't want a bunch of human detectives finding the body and raising questions. "I told Jean not to go after her," he said, shaking his head, the weight of his regret was almost crushing.

Arthur poured himself a drink, and looked at Marcel with a raised brow.

"What else was she supposed to do? Sit at the bar and mope while her friends are slaughtered," he said, taking a swig.

"You know it's not that simple," Marcel told him.

Arthur sighed, "I know," he said, "but we gotta stop her, she's killing us off, one by one,"

Marcel finished his drink, his knuckles turning white around the glass.

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice breaking, "I know."

He looked down at his glass, watching the amber liquid swirl around, wondering if he could ever drink enough to forget who you used to be, if he would ever get you back. The ironic part was that he needed some solid advice and the person he usually would go to was you.

He threw his glass on the ground and it shattered on the floor, causing the other vampires in the bar to jump.

"Fuck," he yelled, standing up, looking around at his people. "Listen up, she got Jean," he paused as the crowd murmured in shock, "and I'm not gonna stand here and let her kill anyone else," he announced.

"What about Elijah?" A young vampire asked.

"Fuck him," Marcel shouted, "he will let us all die before he hurts his precious wife."

"If you see her, bring her to me, and I will give you the daylight ring of your choice," he promised, and the crowd cheered.

"Now go, and do not approach her alone," he ordered, and the group dispersed.

"We got this Marcel," Arthur told him.

Marcel gave him a nod and watched him leave. His heart broke for what he knew he had to do. He would stop you, no matter what it took.

A soft low moan came tumbling past your lips as you rocked your hips forward, and dug your nails deeper into the neck of the man beneath you. His eyes were closed in a mix of ecstasy and pain, and his hips thrust upwards, chasing the pleasure you were giving him.

"Don't cum," you compelled him, and his body tensed beneath you.

"Please," he begged, his hands reaching for you, grabbing your thighs and squeezing.

You moaned and lifted yourself up, and then slammed down onto him, hard. He cried out in pleasure, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"Please," he choked out, and you could see the tears pooling in his eyes.

You were getting tired of him. His stamina was abysmal, and you assumed that since he was covered in tattoos he enjoyed a bit of pain. You had been disappointed when you had learned that wasn't the case.

"Don't be a bitch," you spat, "and shut up."

He nodded, and you could tell he was struggling. You sighed, and grabbed him roughly by the hair, pulling his head to the side and exposing his neck.

He groaned, and you bit into his neck, making sure your teeth sliced deep. Blood poured from his neck, you could taste a hint of the endorphins rushing through him and smiled. You sucked on his wound, and began moving again.

His breathing hitched, and his whole body was shaking, you knew it wouldn't take long for him to reach his orgasm.

"You can cum now," you told him, and he moaned, and his fingers dug into your hips.

You continued rocking into him, and a few seconds later he let out a strangled cry, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you.

You smiled through bloodied teeth then sunk your fangs back into his neck, tasting the flood of endorphins. You continued to drink, feeling him struggle underneath you.

"Too much," he wheezed, trying to push you away, but he was far too weak.

You kept going until his breathing slowed, and his body stopped moving. You pulled back and let his body slump onto the bed, looking down disappointedly.

"I don't even get an orgasm out of it," you complained, rolling your eyes.

You lifted yourself off him, stretching and cracking your neck.

You glanced over at the woman laying in the chair in the corner of the room, and frowned. You had forgotten about her. She was alive, her chest rising and falling, her heartbeat thumping loudly.

You had compelled her to be silent and still, she was doing an excellent job. You stood up and walked towards her. She stared at you with wide, terrified eyes. You were naked, and covered in blood, it dripped down your face, and neck, and coated your breasts and legs.

"Oh, honey," you cooed, brushing her hair out of her face. "I'm so sorry, was that your boyfriend?"

The woman whimpered, tears spilling out of her eyes, and you shushed her, gently running your thumb over her bottom lip.

"You shouldn't stay with a cheater," you told her, and she looked at you in confusion, "and you should choose better men," you advised, then snapped her neck.

You went to the bathroom, and turned the shower on, and stepped under the hot stream, letting the water wash away the blood and cum.

Your mind was calm, the only thought swirling around in your head was your desire to drink and fuck, and the two together was an amazing combination.

You washed yourself quickly, then found a dress and slid it over your wet body. It clung to your skin, but you didn't mind.

You put on some jewelry you found and checked yourself out in the mirror. You were beautiful, and the darkness behind your eyes made you look deadly.

You smiled, satisfied with your appearance, and left the hotel, deciding to find your next victim.

New Orleans was a big city, but it was full of sin, and you loved walking the streets, feeling its pulse, and knowing that somewhere there was a soul aching for you to feed on.

You could have compelled yourself a meal, but where was the fun in that? There was something so satisfying about hunting and the chase was exhilarating.

You walked down a back street, thinking about having a redhead for dinner when the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and your stomach clenched.

You were being followed.

You sped up and the person followed suit, and you smiled. Finally, something to cure your boredom. You took a sharp left, and the footsteps following you became hurried.

"Fuck," a male voice shouted, and you laughed, and took another left, and then a right, and a left again. Leading them exactly where you wanted.

You were back near the hotel, and you slipped into the alleyway and waited. You were going to enjoy this.

You didn't have to wait long, a few seconds later a vampire rounded the corner and stopped when he saw you.

"Arthurrr, it's been a while," you said, licking your lips. "I thought you and your merry band of idiots would have learned their lesson by now," you told him.

"Well, you know me, I'm a slow learner," he replied, standing at the head of the alley, his arms crossed.

"Jean was such a nice girl, you guys were together, right?" You asked, knowing full well they were.

"We were," Arthur said, his jaw clenching, and you could see the hurt in his eyes.

"She was so sweet, always so eager to please," you continued, taking a step towards him, "and so willing to do anything for those she loved," you said, pausing, "it's a shame that you're all so willing to die for one another," you finished, taking another step forward.

"Has Elijah seen you like this?" Arthur asked, taking a step back, his hand sliding into his pocket.

"What, covered in blood and looking sexy as hell," you replied, grinning at him.

"No, like a monster."

Arthur watched you freeze, a flicker of emotion crossing your face. It was gone as fast as it came and your expression went cold again and you smirked at him.

It hurt him to see you like this, you had been his friend for decades. But this wasn't about him and you, it was even about his beloved Jean. He didn't care if Elijah would tear him apart for it. He would not let you hurt another person he loved. He had to put you down, like a rabid dog.

"Isn't that what we are Artie? Monsters."

"Not all of us," he said, his voice cracking.

"Come on, don't be shy," you said, stepping closer, "I'll let you get a hit in."

Arthur reached into his pocket and felt the needle he prepared. You were much older and stronger than he was, but all he had to do was get close enough to you and shove the needle into your skin and maybe he could end this nightmare

Marcel knelt down over Arthur's body, or at least what was left of it. He didn't have anymore tears left in him to shed.

"I'm sorry, my friend, go be with Jean," he whispered, closing Arthur's eyes.

"And Mark, Jessa, Sean, Patrick..." Said a voice from behind him.

Marcel closed his eyes and sighed, turning around and looking up at Elijah.

"How can you be so fucking callous?" Marcel snarled.

Elijah didn't know how to respond. He was numb, and the pain had become too much. He was barely holding himself together, the only thing keeping him going was his promise.

He was going to save you, no matter the cost.

"Are you just going to stand there and act like you don't care?" Marcel spat, standing up, anger and resentment coursing through him.

"Don't make this any worse than it already is," Elijah said.

"You are killing us!" Marcel shouted, taking a step towards him.

Elijah shook his head and clenched his fists, and Marcel saw the pain in his eyes. He stopped himself and took a breath.

"Elijah, she is out of control, you need to do something," he said, his voice softer.

"I know," Elijah agreed. "But... she's... I can't, not yet," he stuttered, his voice breaking, "just a few more days," he pleaded, looking at Marcel desperately.

"A few more days," Marcel scoffed, "Elijah, if you don't stop her, I will have to kill her."

Elijah flashed forward and shoved Marcel into the wall.

"You won't lay a finger on her," Elijah growled, his face inches from Marcel's.

"I don't want to," Marcel told him, and Elijah could see the truth in his eyes. "But I can't let her keep doing this, you can't expect us to sit around and let her murder everyone we love."

"Marcel..." Elijah warned, his grip tightening.

"Elijah, this has to stop," Marcel said, shoving Elijah back, "I have to stop her, before she kills the whole fucking Quarter," he exclaimed, his eyes glistening.

"I know you Mikaelsons only care about yourselves, so let me put this in a way you will understand." Marcel took a breath, and tried to remain calm. "We can't hide what she's doing anymore. The humans are scared, and are starting to ask questions. If this continues, they will figure out that we exist, and the whole world will come down on New Orleans, and none of us will make it out alive."

Elijah's shoulders slumped and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"What would you have me do, Marcel?" Elijah asked, his voice soft and defeated.

"Turn her humanity back on."

You felt like shit, cold yet hot, your throat was on fire and every limb ached. You sat up slowly and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and blinked several times. Your vision was blurry, and it took a moment for the room to come into focus.

You thought it was just vervain in that needle, nothing a couple of drinks couldn't fix, but when you started to see things that weren't there, you realized that Arthur must have dosed you up with wolfsbane.

You managed to crawl into some hole of an apartment to hide from the hallucinations, hoping when you woke up you would be feeling better.

But it didn't, you were dying. You could feel it.

"No," you moaned, falling back against the wall, the reality of your situation sinking in.

"You didn't think I would just let you die," a soft, familiar voice spoke.

"You're not real," you told him, refusing to look at him.

"That doesn't mean I'm not here."

You looked up and Elijah was standing in front of you. You sighed and closed your eyes, but he was still there, in your mind.

"What kind of monster are you?" He asked and you laughed.

"Child killer," you answered, looking at him, his expression was blank. "Murderer, adulterer, thief, blasphemer..." You listed, but he remained expressionless.

"Whore," he added and you laughed again.

"I'm a terrible wife," you said, smiling.

"You are a monster," he repeated.

"So are you," you snapped.

"I never claimed to be otherwise," he said.

"If you are real you should kill me," you suggested.

"I'm not real," he reminded you.

"I know, the real you would never call me a whore," you replied, and he chuckled.

"I'm dying Elijah," you stated, your eyes welling up with tears, "this is it, I can feel it."

"What are you going to do about it?"

You took a deep breath and stood up, leaning against the wall for support.

"I'm going to go get the cure," you decided, stumbling out into the night.

The compound wasn't far from the apartment, and the cold air helped you wake up, and your head was clearer, and you could focus on your destination.

"Why not let yourself die?" Elijah asked, walking alongside you.

"Living is much more fun, so many possibilities," you said, "food, sex, money..."

"Family, friends..." He added.

"Waste of time," you dismissed, waving him away, watching him dissolve.

You pushed through the iron gates, trying your best to compose yourself. You entered the courtyard and saw a few nightwalkers scattered around, they didn't notice you and continued drinking and chatting.

"Where is Klaus?" You asked loudly.

Everyone turned and looked at you, and the room fell silent. All you could see was their fear and it amused you.

"I will not ask again," you said, smiling sweetly.

"In his studio," someone answered, and you gave them a nod, and walked past then, heading upstairs.

You barged right in and found him standing in front of an easel, painting. He only painted when he was troubled, and his canvas was filled with darkness and death.

"Lovely," you commented, walking towards him.

Klaus didn't turn to look at you, he simply continued to paint. "Elijah isn't home, but I expect you know that already," he said.

"How perceptive," you remarked.

"To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" He asked.

"I need your blood," you told him.

"Rather bold of you to ask, considering the circumstances," he said, finally turning to look at you.

You didn't know what to say. You had no words, and for once you were lost for a witty remark. You just stared at him, and he studied you.

"I've been hearing about your extracurriculars," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Is that so," you replied, and the corners of your mouth curled up.

"Killing a child, now that's unexpected," he remarked.

You ignored him, unable to respond, because it wasn't something you wanted to think about. You could see your hallucination of Elijah staring at you from the corner of the room. A small child appeared next to him, blood pouring out of her neck.

"Why didn't you save me?" She asked, her eyes filled with pain and betrayal.

"Shut up," you whispered, shaking your head.

"She died in pain, and you did nothing," the vision of Elijah said, and you closed your eyes, trying to will it all away. It was becoming irritating.

"I'm sure the mother will be most upset," Klaus said.

"Spare me the guilt trip, you've done far worse," you spat, opening your eyes, relieved the visions had disappeared.

Klaus observed your disheveled state and noticed how much you were sweating, and the dark circles under your eyes. You were clearly unwell, and it explained why you risked coming back to the compound. You really did need his blood.

"I have, love. But that's just who I am, it's not who you are," he replied, turning back to his canvas.

"Well, I've always wanted to try the whole serial killer thing," you said, trying to sound light-hearted, but the joke fell flat, and neither of you laughed.

"So you killed the child because you wanted to? Because you enjoy doing such things? I'm not even that diabolical." He chuckled, adding a bit of white to the canvas.

"Yes, Klaus, I wanted to kill her, I wanted her to suffer, and I wanted to see the look on her mother's face as I did it."

Klaus set his brush down, and turned back to you. "That's a lie, it was an accident, Marcel told me," he said, watching your eyes widen, and your face fall.

"It was an accident," the little girl's ghost said, appearing in front of you.

You stumbled back, bumping into the sofa, and the girl was right in front of you.

"Why didn't you save me?" She repeated, tears filling her eyes.

"FUCK!" You yelled, your hands gripping the sides of your head.

"Wolfsbane is one hell of a trip," Klaus said casually, watching you stumble back from something he couldn't see.

"If you won't give me your blood, just kill me, I rather not die in agony," you told him.

"Do you think you deserve it?" He asked.

"Deserve what? Death, mercy, life? Who knows, who cares," you answered.

"I think Elijah does," Klaus said, and you froze.

"I'm not talking about this with you," you said, turning to leave.

"Despite what you may think, I do consider you family, even in the state you are in," he said, and he saw the look of surprise on your face.

"Ahh, there it is," he said softly, "a flicker of feeling just under the surface, fight your way back y/n," he encouraged.

Frustration was the only thing you were feeling and you lashed out, pushing over his easel, knocking his paints off the table.

He raised his eyebrows at your outburst and laughed, it was a rough, genuine laugh, and he grinned at you.

"Very well, Elijah wouldn't be pleased if I let you die and I kind of like you like this," he admitted, "though, you are rather irritable."

You stopped yourself from talking back, just needing to get your hands on his blood. You didn't want to waste any more time with him.

"Now, what am I going to ask in return," Klaus said, stroking his chin, "something I've been wanting for a very long time."

"If you want to fuck you don't have to bribe me," you told him.

"As tempting as that is, no," he said, grinning. "I want a favor, in the future," he offered.

"You're going to have to be more specific."

"That's the beauty of a favor, it can be anything," he said.

"Fine," you snapped, "blood now please,"

Klaus smirked and opened a drawer in the table, taking out a vial and handing it to you. You snatched it from his hand and uncapped the lid, gulping the blood down.

"What hallucinations were you having?" He asked, and you froze, and he laughed.

"Private ones," you replied, placing the empty vial on the table.

"You're no fun," he pouted. "You have my blood now, get out," he said, returning to his canvas.

You didn't argue, leaving him to his painting, and returned to the main courtyard. You stood there, trying to figure out your next move. You knew what was waiting for you if you turned your humanity back on. Guilt and self-loathing, and the pain of knowing what you've done, and not being able to take it back.

You needed to leave the city before they forced you to turn it back on. There was nothing here for you anyway, not anymore.

"That's her," you heard someone say, and looked around.

"Are you sure?" Another asked.

"I'm sure," the first one confirmed.

They were staring right at you, but the fear in their eyes from earlier was gone, replaced with anger and resentment. You smiled and flashed forward, snapping the neck of the vampire who had identified you.

The rest charged, and you were surrounded by vampires, but it wasn't a challenge. You were far older and stronger than them. The courtyard turned into a slaughterhouse and the floor was covered in blood.

You were standing over a body, tearing the heart out when Marcel called your name. You dropped the heart and slowly turned, your lips curling up into a smirk.

Marcel grabbed your arm, trying to break your hold, but it was no use, you were stronger than him. You smiled, digging your fingers deeper, and he gasped.

"Marcellus," you greeted, smirking. Before he could react you slammed him against the wall. "I was hoping I would run into you," you said, pressing your hand into his chest. "We have some unfinished business,"

"I taught you better than that sweet Marcel," you taunted, twisting your wrist.

Marcel looked into your eyes, full of emotion, and you couldn't tell if it was sadness or pity.

"Stop this," he said, his grip tightening, and he tried to push you back. "I don't want to kill you," he said, his voice softer.

"And why not?" You asked, digging your fingers deeper, his face twisted in pain.

"Because..." he choked out, his heart slowing down, and his vision blurred, "I know you are still in there, my friend, and I'm not going to lose you,"

"I was so boring, so full of weakness," you told him, "this is who I was meant to be."

"No, you're not," he gasped, struggling to breathe, his legs buckling under the pressure. "You were the woman who helped raise me, would bake me apple pies whenever I had a bad day, would let me sleep in the same bed as her and Elijah when I had a nightmare, the woman who taught me love and compassion," he told you, and his grip tightened on your arm.

"And now she is hurting because she made a mistake, and that is something that I can forgive, because I know her heart is good."

You laughed coldly, his attempts to manipulate you not working, and you tightened your grip. You didn't want to hear anymore from him, his words were getting under your skin in a way that caused fear to trickle in.

"Goodbye, Marcel," you said, squeezing his heart, and it was too late for him to stop you, his strength was leaving him.

"Darling, put Marcellus down," said the last voice you wanted to hear. The one that could make all your pain return.

You felt him behind you, his hand on your waist. Your breath caught in your throat and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

"Let him go," Elijah said softly, his hand moving to your arm, keeping you from tearing Marcels heart out.

"Fuck off Elijah," you growled, struggling to get free, but his grip was like a vice.

"We can do this the hard way if you insist, I have no issue breaking your neck," he warned.

"You would never do that to your precious wife," you taunted, tugging in Elijah's grasp causing Marcel to cough up more blood.

Elijah let out a long sigh, then he moved faster than you could comprehend and everything went black.

You woke in a small windowless room, only a few candles illuminating the space. You were in a chair, your wrists bound by chains.

"You're awake," a voice came from the shadows, and Elijah stepped into the light.

"This is kinky, even for you Elijah," you teased.

He did not look amused, sadness and regret filled his eyes, and he had never looked so broken. He knelt in front of you, and rested his hand on yours.

"Turn it back on," he demanded, looking into your eyes.

"I can't," you lied.

"Yes, you can," he said, his grip tightening.

"No, I can't," you argued, "turning it off was the best decision I have ever made."

"What happened was an accident, it wasn't your fault," Elijah said, and you could see the pain in his eyes, "and turning off your emotions does not fix things, it only makes it worse."

You let him talk, he was so good at it, his deep sexy voice creating a perfect melody of bullshit. But you let him think he was getting through to you as you subtly slipped out of your restraints. Your loving husband was so trusting.

"We can work through this, I can help you," he continued, "I love you," he said, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

"I know," you replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, and without a word you freed yourself from the chains and sped to the door.

Elijah was quicker, blocking your path. You let out a huff and tried to push past him, but he shoved you back and grabbed your shoulders.

You felt anger again, the only thing you could feel and you unleashed it on him. Clawing, scratching, striking him wherever you could. He took everything you threw at him, and eventually, he trapped you against the wall.

You let you a high pitched scream, it was feral and animalistic, and you thrashed in his grip, but his body pressed against yours, his hands on either side of your head, keeping you still.

"Stop," he said softly, it was barley a whisper.

Your body was pressed firmly against his, and you could feel his heart racing.

"Please," he begged, his eyes filling with tears.

He didn't look angry or annoyed, he looked sad, and it wasn't until then that you noticed his blood, covering your hands and clothes, and you realized how much you had hurt him.

"Just stop, please," he said, his voice cracking, and you knew the pain was too much.

You looked up at him and felt your anger give way into sadness. It was just a trickle, a soft misting of emotion, but it was there. You knew what was coming next.

You felt the weight of everything that had happened, all the hurt, and the pain, and the death, and it consumed you. The dam broke and you wanted, no, needed; to turn it off again.

Elijah could see the torment in your eyes, the light flickering behind them, fighting to return.

"Do you know why I fell in love with you? Why I married you?" He said softly, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"You pity me, that's all," you said.

"Because," he began, taking your hand in his, "you have a heart," he said, placing your palm on his chest, "that's bigger than anything else, your kindness is endless. Even as a vampire you have always helped more than you've harmed, and that is a gift that not many have."

"Elijah," you whimpered, feeling the weight of his words and the force of your emotions bearing down on you.

"And I can't watch you destroy yourself any longer, because if you die, a part of me will die with you," he finished, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to yours. "You have to feel all the pain, it's worth it, because you also can experience the love," he said, gently cupping your face, "the love I have for you."

You couldn't help yourself, the flood gates had opened, and there was no closing them. You let out a small gasp, and the tears streamed down your cheeks, and he kissed them away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sobbed, clinging to him.

"It's alright," he hushed, pulling away and brushing the tears from your cheeks.

You didn't respond, you couldn't. You felt a wave of nausea wash over you, and your knees buckled. Elijah caught you, and pulled you close, holding you tight.

"I got you, it's okay," he assured, lifting you off your feet.

He sat down in the chair and held you on his lap. You couldn't stop crying, your face buried in the crook of his neck, and he cradled you.

"I'm a monster," you said quietly, and he held you closer.

"Not to me, never to me," he said, his fingers combing through your hair, and he felt you tremble.

"I killed her," you whimpered, your body tensing and your eyes clenched shut. "An innocent,"

"Shhh," he hushed, and you clung to him.

"How could I," you said, pulling away from him.

"It wasn't your fault. It was an accident, you tried to save her," he reminded, stroking your cheek.

"What's the point of having the power to heal when I can't even save a child," you cried, the guilt and shame tearing you apart.

"She fell, no one could have stopped it, not even Niklaus," he said, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling your head forward.

His lips brushed over your forehead, and he planted a small kiss. "Let's go home," he whispered, and your eyes widened.

"I can't, everyone will hate me, I deserve to die," you protested, pushing him away.

"You've been my wife for five hundred years, but only now have you become a true Mikaelson," he chuckled, picking you up and carrying you to the door.

It would take time, penance, and a lot of groveling to repair the damage you had done, and there was a chance some of them may never forgive you, but you had a chance now, to make amends, and that was all you could hope for.

It had been a week since you turned your humanity back on, and it was still painful, and overwhelming.

Klaus came to you one day, while Elijah was out. He had his hands in his pockets and he leaned against the doorframe. He could see how much you were struggling, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm here to call in that favor," he announced, and your eyes narrowed.

"What do you want?" You asked, not bothering to look at him. "I'm really not in the mood, so say it fast and get out."

"You need to promise me that you will fulfill it, no matter how difficult," he warned, and you groaned, rolling your eyes.

"Just spit it out Klaus," you said, glaring at him.

"Forgive yourself."

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messedupfan · 2 months

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Chapter 20

Summary: The kids school is having it's annual end of year fundraiser, an adult only event for the parents of the school to make donations to the school fun. You bring Nebula as your date. Wanda gets a little help from Agatha. Jean and Anna decide to separate for sometime.

Dedicated to: Orange Anon 🧃 (HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!!!)

Warning: Some smut, a masterbation scene with fantasizing 18+

A/n: Hello!!! I have been dying to write this chapter since December!!! Glad to finally be here. Although, I haven't been able to edit much since I've been busy so major apologies for errors. Can't wait to see the comments for this one. Hope y'all enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | All Chapters

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With summer break approaching, the school is constantly informing, or rather aggressively reminding parents about their end-of-year fundraiser. Wanda avoided the event last year because she was still deep in her depression and consumed by grief. The last thing she wanted to do was attend the same event her ex-husband and his beautiful young wife were at, especially at a time when she could barely get the motivation to get dressed up. Agatha tried to get her to come but she eventually gave up. Now that it's coming up, she can't help but think about the difference the possibility of meeting you sooner would have affected her life. Not knowing that you also avoided attending the event last year as well.

“Mom!” The boys cheer as they run up to her at pick up. They give her tight hugs. It's not her week with them but Vision called her during his lunch to explain that things are tense at home and the boys have been asking to stay with her. She held back from commenting on his pattern of cheating and creating hostile environments in his own home. She doesn't need to fight with him or try to involve herself in his personal life again. All she needs to do is worry about her children. It's something that her therapist suggested and it's been helpful in these past several months.

“Ugh, I hope you boys never grow up!” She grins as she holds them tightly. She doesn't want to see them tall and ignoring her as teenagers. She doesn't think she can handle the rejection. She likes them small and adoring her.

“Ms. Wanda!” Rachel runs towards them instead of her mom who is standing a few feet away. She joins in on the hug. “Is Tommy and Billy's daddy on a trip again?” She says as she looks up at Wanda.

Wanda laughs, “Something like that. Where's your mom?” She looks around the playground until she finds Jean walking towards them.

“Hey! It's been a while since I've seen you,” she greets happily. Wanda has to pretend like she doesn't know the stunt that Jean tried to pull several months ago. The last thing she heard about your situation with your ex-wife was that things were getting better since the two of you started to focus on Rachel. Wanda thought that it was great that the two of you were getting along again, but she wasn’t quick to forgive what Jean tried to do to you.

“Hey, Jean! It has been too long,” Wanda greets politely. Rachel steps away from Wanda and greets her mom with a hug that is just as tight. “How is everything?”

“Oh I'm sure Y/n keeps you well informed,” Jean replies. It was true for the months that you were single and a couple of months after you found out about the weirdest kidnapping she'd ever heard of. But it hasn't been true for some time. Wanda is lucky if she can get an update on your life as it is. You have been occupying most of your time with Nebula. If it weren't for a couple of orders coming in from your online shop, she wouldn't see you at all.

Unfortunately, even though you're working in her backyard on the weekends, the two of you don't talk much. She isn't sure if it's you pulling away or her but it hurt either way.

“Not really,” Wanda says without her expression wavering.

“Oh! Um, I've been doing well. How-How have you been?” She asks as she runs her fingers through Rachel's hair.

“I've been really great lately, yeah,” Wanda looks down at the boys with a soft smile. “I keep getting extra time with my boys which is fantastic.” She looks up at Jean again. Her eyes do a small scan of the woman. She is in her work attire but there is a coffee stain on her shirt that is poking out of her blazer. She has dark circles under her eyes. She looks tired even with a smile on her face. “We should catch up sometime,” Wanda says politely. Jean looks like she could use a friend. Thinking of it now, other than you, Wanda isn't sure that she's heard of Jean having friends. Maybe she has friends with her wife? She isn't sure. And right now, you're not in the best position to be her friend.

“I'd like that a lot,” Jean replies. Her smartwatch starts to buzz and she sighs. “Work is calling. I have to get going. Come on love bug,” she takes Rachel's hand and starts walking towards the parking lot.

“Are you guys ready to go home?” Wanda asks her kids and they both nod. She guides them out to her car in the parking lot.

You are sitting alone on your couch on a Friday night thinking about Wanda. You've been doing everything that you can to give yourself some space from her. Nebula eventually asked about your friendship with Wanda during one of your dates with her months ago. The two of you were eating gelaties, a flavored Italian ice with frozen custard on top. You were enjoying the sweet flavors of mango ice combined with vanilla custard as well as the smooth textures of the treat. There wasn't a treat quite like it. Nebula was enjoying their blue raspberry ice topped with cotton candy-flavored custard.

“So, are you and Wanda just friends?” She asked seemingly out of the blue. You weren't sure where the question was coming from. At the moment, you ran through every conversation you'd had with Nebula until that point to see if you mentioned Wanda more than you should have. But you can't come up with a number.

“Truthfully?” You asked as you mixed the vanilla custard further into the mango ice.

“No, lie to me,” she quipped with a slight smirk.

“Okay, fair enough,” you took a deep breath. “I've considered becoming more than friends with her. But it was complicated. Then she made it less complicated when she rejected me.” You didn't want to lie to her the way that you were lying to Daisy. It nearly killed you during that time.

Nebula got quiet and her smirk disappeared. Even with the shop being busy with other customers ordering. Chats happened at the surrounding tables. Everything felt still in her silence. Everyone seemed to vanish completely, leaving only the two of you, sitting in an empty Rita’s alone.

You watched her as you swirled your spoon around in your cup. She seemed to be in deep thought. You felt a slight panic tighten your chest and churn your stomach.

“Is that a problem?” You finally asked.

Nebula’s distinctive eyes connected with yours again. “No,” she answered.

You couldn't tell if she was being honest or not. But you didn't question her. You just made a promise to yourself that you weren't going to allow your feelings to continue to grow for Wanda. A task that was easier said than done.

You started small. Ignoring a text from her here and there. Well, not completely ignoring them. You just wouldn't respond as fast as you normally would. Then you stopped going by as much. Rachel's therapy appointments made it easier to stay away from Wanda’s for some time. But eventually, you began to miss her. You would call her whenever you got a chance to check-in. Then you fell asleep talking to her on the phone one night and you had to pull back on that as well.

As fate would have it, you received two custom orders which meant you had to spend time at Wanda’s. She was excited when you told her that you had two projects to work on. The two of you embraced each other tightly. You closed your eyes and breathed her in. You missed her scent. You missed the way her body felt against yours. You missed her laugh. You missed her smile.

You had to build more boundaries. Whenever you came to work in the shed in the backyard, you never went through the house. Even if you had Rachel with you. She would walk through the front door and you would slip in through the gate on the side of the house. You’d bring lunch and you'd leave before dinner. Wanda never bothered you. She seemed to understand that the two of you needed time apart from each other.

The more you pushed yourself away from her. The more she invaded your every thought. You swore you could feel something pulling you towards her. It made nights like these difficult. Shortly after your conversation with her about Wanda, Nebula stated that the two of you were dating and non-exclusive. You were a little thrown off because you thought that she only wanted to see you. But you had to face the fact that she wasn't the only person you wanted to see. So you didn't get upset or argue. You accepted the status of the relationship. Nebula is on a date right now and all you want to do is be with Wanda. You wonder how much of her time Nebula is going to continue to waste on you.

You open and close your phone multiple times. Hoping for a message from someone, anyone, so that you can get your mind to stop thinking about Wanda and what she might be doing tonight. That's when your mind gets stuck on the idea that she also might be on a date with someone. To your knowledge, she doesn't have the kids this week so she's available.

You start to imagine her sitting in front of someone with her smile and it hurts. You don't want her to be with anyone else. But you do want her to be happy. You shake your head turn on the television and scroll through the streaming channels. You don't know what you're in the mood to watch.

You throw on a movie you've heard about for years but never got around to watching. Your stomach rumbles so you get up and go to the kitchen to make something. As you start cooking, you imagine Wanda coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. It's so real you can feel it. Then you try to picture anyone else but you can't. You've had moments like that with Jean and with Daisy. But you couldn't visually remember them. You close your eyes for a second and sigh as you think about Wanda leaning her head against your back. You think about how you would lift your arm to get her to slip under and rest her head on your chest. You think about how you would kiss her as she hugged you from the side.

The aroma of your food cooking snaps you out of the fantasy. You focus on cooking so that you don’t burn the building down daydreaming about your friend. As you sit in front of the television you realize that you left the movie playing so you start it from the beginning and pay attention while you eat.

As you watch the movie, you start to imagine Wanda curled up next to you watching the movie with you. When you try to get rid of that image and focus on the movie, your mind wanders back to what she is doing tonight. Who is she with? Is she seeing anyone? Is she back to hooking up with random people?

What if she was hooking up with you? You wonder.

As the couple in the movie confess their feelings to each other you stop paying attention and start to think about being in Wanda's house. The both of you a bit tipsy from the Sokovian vodka. Her favorite because it reminds her of her parents and their culture. You're making her laugh because she gets your sense of humor. Then there's a moment when her eyes connect with yours. And nothing is holding either of you back.

You kiss her and she holds your face to keep you close. You crawl closer to her and she falls back. You try to hover over her as you continue to kiss her but she pulls you on top of her because she wants you as close to her as possible. She needs you as close to her as possible.

You look down at your hands as you imagine what her breasts would feel like. How firm is it? How soft? Would she prefer that you squeeze it roughly or would she like a gentle massage? You lick your lips as you imagine her nipples. How hard they would be. You think about tracing them with your tongue. You wonder what her sweat would taste like.

You shove your hand in your pants to touch yourself as your mind continues to torture you with images of her. Your lips on her abdomen. The way her face would contort from the pleasure. Seeing how she might bite her lips to stifle her sighs. Your senses don't stop there. You start to hear her sighs. Her soft moans. Maybe she’d call out your name when you're doing something wrong. Or she'll beg you for more. You swear you can smell her now. Then finally, as you start to reach your climax, you imagine what her juices tastes like. You think about how you'd perform cunnilingus right then and there. Because there are no kids to worry about. No one to interrupt. It's just you and Wanda.

You reach your orgasm and breathe heavily as you come down from your high. The image of Wanda fades from your mind. You sit there for a moment. Reminding yourself of where you are. Then you feel disgusting. How could you think of your friend like that? She is your friend and nothing more. You quickly get up and go to your bathroom to wash your hands. You change your underwear and replace your jeans with sweatpants.

There wasn't a mess on the couch but you feel guilty for getting off on the couch your daughter watches her cartoons on and remove the covers on the cushions to throw in the wash. The movie’s credits roll and you flip on a random sitcom to try and lighten your mood. You sit on the single chair that matches your couch as you wait for the washer to be done.

You sigh as you think about what you need to change in your life. Then there is a knock on your door. You check your watch as you frown. It's pretty late. You rack your brain as you consider the possibilities of people on the other side of the door. There's another knock, this one a little more rapid. You get up and shut off the television. You peer through the peephole in the door before quickly opening it.

“Jean, what's wrong?” You ask as you let her and Rachel inside.

“Anna and I got in a really big argument and we just couldn't stay there,” Jean says as she walks through the door.

“Hey bug,” you smile at your confused and sleepy daughter. It was way past her bedtime and she was in her pajamas. You lift her in your arms and carry her to her bedroom. You tuck her into bed and close the door to her room. You look down at the door handle and sigh. You shake your head. You really hope this doesn't affect the progress that has been made over the last couple of months. You're going to contact her therapist in the morning after you get all of the details from Jean.

“What happened to your couch?” Jean asks as she takes your spot in the chair. She has makeup all over her face. Her eyes are bloodshot and her cheeks are puffy. You scan her face to look for any signs of a slap or worse. You don't see any and you hope, for your daughter's sanity, that Jean didn't strike Anna. She might not be as understanding of something like that.

“I spilled something on it and threw the covers in the wash,” you sit on the coffee table in front of her. You try to keep your gaze soft and stay patient. But you really needed to know what happened and why Jean thought it was a good idea to not only leave her home in the middle of an argument with her wife but stay at her ex’s for the night. Disrupting your daughter's sleep in the process.

She keeps her eyes locked on the stripped cushions on the couch. The corner of her mouth lifts. “Remember when we bought our first couch?” She starts softly and you can tell that her vocal chords are exhausted. You wonder how long she was in a screaming match with Anna. “It was white because it just had to be. It was the first big purchase we made with my discount at the store. Your grandma told us to wrap it in plastic and neither of us listened. We could hardly afford it at the time, but she offered to loan her set until we could.”

You nod as you remember exactly what memory she is thinking of. “I remember,” you say softly. “You refused because you thought it looked tacky. But Rachel was two and constantly walking and running around. That sofa was covered in so many different colors of food stains before the end of the year, it became an entirely new couch.” You start to laugh as you're reminded of how horrible the smell was. “Gosh it took us months to get rid of the smell even after we tossed the damn thing out.”

“Oh gosh,” Jean covers her face as she starts to laugh. “Don't remind me, I still sometimes think the smell is lingering in the house.” She moves her fingers through her hair and takes a deep breath. “Anna isn't so sure that she wants to be part of this family anymore,” Jean finally admits.

“I'm sure the two of you will work it out,” you say to comfort her. There isn't much else you can say to her about it. This isn't the first time that Anna has expressed wanting to leave Jean. A few weeks before their wedding, Anna had even disappeared for two days after an argument then came back as if nothing had happened. “Come on, I'll get you set up in my room. I'll take the couch,” you say as you offer her your hand while you stand up from the coffee table. Jean takes your hand with a small thank you.

“The argument was really bad. I know I shouldn't have left and I shouldn't have woken Rachel up but,” tears start to stream down Jean's cheeks again. “I just had to get out of there.” You nod and once you're in your room, you pull her in for a warm embrace.

“Jean, did you stop taking your medication when you decided you wanted a baby?” You ask softly as you continue to hold her. You don't want her to blow up at you for asking the question, so it's better to have her restrained in your arms.

She doesn't react the way you expect. She doesn't take offense to the question. She doesn't accuse you of trying to call her a bad mother. She doesn't deny having an episode. Jean breaks down into heavy sobs in your arms as she admits that both her and Anna decided to stop taking their medications just in case you came around to the idea. You hold her until she stops crying and leave her tucked into your bed. When the cushion covers are done washing, you throw them in the dryer and watch TV until they're done so that you don't have to worry about fixing up the cushions in the morning.

You pull out the bed that's in the couch and make it nice for yourself to sleep on. When everything is fixed up the way you like it, you shut off the TV and turn off the lights. You check the lock on the door before climbing into bed. You look at your phone one last time before you officially call it a night. No new messages. You sigh and scroll through social media for a little bit. When you land on a video you find funny, you send it to Wanda first. Then you send it to Nebula.

In the morning, you wake up to two notifications, one from Nebula being critical about the video you sent her and the other from Wanda thanking you for the laugh. You respond to Nebula first and ask why she didn’t find it funny and a few minutes later you’re reading a novel of reasons why the video is offensive. You don’t have any idea what to respond with so you decide to make coffee in hopes that it will help you come up with something.

But as you make coffee, Jean wakes up and joins you for a cup. You talk to her about the fight she had with her wife and she breaks down as she reveals that last night was the biggest fight but that there have been many over the months since they can't afford the other options to have a kid. You get even more side tracked when Rachel wakes up and you help Jean make breakfast for everyone. It reminds you of the past. Being a small family of three when the most drama in your life was being a young parent and spouse.

Rachel doesn't say much about last night. Just that she was confused when she woke up in this bed and not the bed at her other home. “Hey Rachel guess what,” you say with a little smirk and you watch her take a bite of her toast. Her eyes widen as the both of you rush to say, “I love you,” first. She spits toast crumbs as she does, some land on the table and some splatter on her mom.

“Gross!” Jean complains as she uses napkins to wipe her arm. “You did that on purpose, Y/n.” You and Rachel share a laugh. It was a little game that started when she was a toddler and learning how to speak. It began because whenever Jean was feeling affectionate, she would come up to you and say, “Guess what?” You would pretend to be clueless because you wanted to hear her say it and she would say, “I love you, you idiot.”

Rachel began to pick up on it and she would start to say, “Baba, guess what?” In her little voice. You would smile and respond with, “I love you,” at the same time as she would. Eventually it became a competition of who could say it faster. It was endearing to hear your baby girl get frustrated while telling you that she loved you.

It has survived all of these years and you fear the day that she rolls her eyes and reminds you that she's not a kid anymore.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” you say to Jean as you help clean up the crumbs from the table.

“Whatever,” she shakes her head with a light laugh. She looks at her plate of food and smiles as she is thrown back into so many good memories of being a family. “I'm sad that I forgot about that,” she admits as she looks over at Rachel who is completely focused on her breakfast now. Jean starts to comb her fingers through her daughter’s soft red hair. She recalls how excited she was when her daughter's hair started to grow out as red as her own. Rachel took after her for the most part but there is still a lot of you in her. Her smile is yours. Her nose is yours. Her ears are all you. As much as you try to pin those on Jean.

“It's not really your game,” you say from the kitchen where you're tossing the used napkins into the trash bin. “I’d have been surprised if you did remember it.” You say as you return to your seat to finish your breakfast.

Jean rests her elbow on the table and sets her chin on the palm of her hand as she watches you. She can't help but feel a little regretful for not working harder on the marriage she had with you. As you eat, you become aware of her gaze on you. With a confused frown you look at her and she gives you an apologetic expression before she clears her throat and goes back to eating her food. You ignore it.

Anna is sitting in her kitchen all alone, slowly sipping her tea. She ia taking the time alone to consider if this is what she wants. She did this before her wedding day. She was getting anxious about fully commiting herself to Jean and to becoming a stepmom and figuring out where she fits into this family that she joined. So she took a weekend to run off and get a hotel room. She sat in her hotel room alone for the most part.

At some point, she went to the indoor pool to people watch. There were little kids that needed more parental supervision than they had. She nearly had a heart attack watching a toddler fall into the deep end of the pool. She quickly swooped the little guy into her arms and returned him to the fearful mother. The woman thanked her profusely but Anna waved her off and found herself saying, “I’m a mom too. I would hope that someone wouldn't watch and let my daughter drown.” The woman got excited and wanted to hear more about the daughter that Anna wasn't sure she should commit to. Anna happily talked and bragged about Rachel and realized how easy it was. Then the woman's husband pulled her away because they had plans to get to.

Anna was left alone again. She sat on one of the chairs and continued to watch people. There were two girls that were being bothered by a single guy. The girls themselves were single but weren't interested in him. Anna looked down at her engagement ring and knew she didn't want to be single anymore.

Anna looks at her rings now. She still doesn't want to be single. Her chest feels heavy not having Rachel bounce around the kitchen waiting for breakfast. She misses hearing the cartoons on the television. She misses her wife's presence. She doesn't know why she is pushing away her family as much as she has been. She just feels like she didn't understand what she was signing up for. She buzzes air past her lips as she thinks about how everyone has told her that the first year of marriage is the hardest.

She never wanted to believe them but everyone was right. Even Jean said it. Anna would just roll her eyes and remind Jean that she was a lot longer the first time around.

As a test, she removes her rings and sets them on the counter space in front of her. She looks at her naked hand and considers leaving them off. But she quickly shoves the rings back on and grabs her keys. She needed advice and the person she sought advice from the most was her mom.

Wanda is sitting with Agatha as they meet for brunch with their boys running around Agatha’s house. “Are you planning on going to that fundraiser?” Wanda asks as she takes a sip of her orange juice.

Agatha rolls her eyes at being reminded of the event, “As much fun as it would be to remind everyone who the life of the party is. I was planning on going but then my mother called. She fell and sprained her wrist.” Wanda shows her concern and Agatha waves her off. “She'll be fine. She sprained her wrist years ago and when she's lonely she throws the brace back on and calls me in a panic.” She drinks her apple juice. “I don't always go but she wants to see Nick before he gets shipped off to that summer camp that his father found. So I'm going to drive up and spend that week with them.”

“Damn, I was hoping that we could go together,” Wanda frowns as she picks at the paint chipping from her finger nails.

“You wanted to go this year? Even with Vision and his child bride attending?” Agatha leans in, intrigued as she looks her friend up and down. “I see, you want an excuse to see Y/n.”

“Or maybe make them jealous,” Wanda says shyly as she moves the scraps around her plate. It’s becoming apparent to her that no matter what, she wants to be with you. She made the mistake of guarding her heart and telling you to find someone else. She wasn't ready to accept that someone as genuine as you exists. In the back of her mind, she couldn't trust that you are good. She was afraid that you wouldn’t stay good once you were in a relationship with her. She was afraid that you would change the way that Vision did.

When Wanda realized that Vision was never good, she was able to stop putting that fear in you. She was able to see the light and see that the only thing keeping her from her happiness is herself.

“Oh? Please elaborate on that,” Agatha scoots closer to Wanda.

The brunette shrugs, “I don't know. I was thinking about showing up in some stunning dress. Maybe get my hair done. Kind of go all out.”

“Were you thinking about getting a date? You have to have a date,” Agatha suggests as she gets excited about the idea.

“I don't know, would that be too much?” Wanda drinks her orange juice as she considers the idea.

“Honey, Y/n will probably be there with that Nebula girl, right?” Agatha reminds her. “Why should you show up alone?”

“I don't know, Agatha, that feels… I don't know… so high school,” Wanda resists.

Agatha picks up her phone as she goes through her contact list. “Babe, I'm serious. I'm going to get you some serious arm candy. There's this new guy at work that just moved here from New York. He's blind, but he's cute enough. Definitely someone that will have Y/n-”

“Hold on, did you just say he's cute enough for a blind guy?” Wanda scoffs, a little shocked by her friend's insensitivity.

Agatha rolls her eyes, “No, he's cute enough to get the job done and he's blind. Just, don't worry about a thing. I will set up the blind date. But I'll make sure he's not blind to the setup.” Agatha snickers a bit, proud of her puns and Wanda shakes her head as she finishes her orange juice.

On the night of the fundraiser you leave Rachel with Jean who was still staying at your apartment while she worked things out with Anna. They have talked since their big fight but they agreed to spend some more time separated from each other. You don't know why Jean and Rachel couldn't stay at the house. It was their house first. But Anna doesn't have anywhere to go so you dealt with it. Under the condition that Jean started her medication again. To your knowledge, she is taking them. You don't check under her tongue or anything but she does make a point to show you that she is taking them in the morning and at night.

Because of this, you haven't been able to see Nebula since Rachel doesn't know that you're dating again and you don't want her knowing about Nebula yet since it was a big deal with Daisy. But she knows about tonight’s event. Thanks to her school, you're able to go on a date with Nebula.

You knock on the door with a single flower in your hand. “Wow,” you say as you admire her beauty and her outfit. She is beautiful. “You look fantastic,” you compliment as you hold out the flower to her.

She smiles as she smells it. “Thank you,” she sets it in her key bowl by the table. “I’ll put it in a vase later. It's supposed to rain soon.” As if on cue a loud clap of thunder rings out while she locks her door.

“Wow, I had no idea,” you say as you walk her to your car. “I didn't see that in the forecast earlier,” I frown as I check my phone before starting the car. Sure enough gray clouds with lightning bolts and cartoon rain appear on the weather app for the next few hours. “Huh, I guess you do have to check it more than once.”

“I told you,” Nebula says with a smile. She kisses your cheek as you start the car. “I’ve missed you these past couple of weeks.”

“I missed you too,” you aren't lying, you're simply omitting the small detail that you've missed Wanda more. “It's been so weird living with Jean again. I can honestly say, I don't miss being married to her and actually be certain of that for once.”

Nebula laughs and connects her phone to the Bluetooth in the car to play her music. The two of you sing along to the songs the entire drive to the venue. It starts to sprinkle a bit as you get closer to the event.

Wanda is pacing back and forth in her underwear on a three way video call with Carol and Agatha. Her room is a mess of dresses, pant suits, and shoes. She hasn't even made it as far as accessories. “I don't know! I thought the dress I bought last week was the revenge dress but it's hideous! Y/n would never like something like that!”

Carol puts her face in her hands and groans. “Wanda we know how to make you look hot for anyone. We don't know how to make you look specifically hot for Y/n. We like them but neither of us have tried to get in their pants.”

“Speak for yourself,” Agatha quips.

“Agatha!” Wanda and Carol scold her.

“What? I have eyes don't I? Besides, that was before I knew Wanda was serious about them. Y/n turned me down every time, relax,” Agatha says. “Why don't you try the purple dress? The one you wore to that one thing that one time.”

“Because that's helpful,” Carol mutters.

“Oh yeah! The booby one, okay I'll be right back, one of you add someone who might know what Y/n will find attractive.” Wanda says as she runs off to her walk-in closet to find the purple dress.

“How? How do you do it Agatha? I swear I sent her pictures and she still couldn't remember the dresses I suggested! You say that one you wore that one time and she gets it!”

“I'm just that good,” Agatha says.

“I only have one purple dress because Agatha got it for me for Christmas,” Wanda shouts from her closet.

“That too,” Agatha says.

“Who can we add?�� Carol says as she thinks about who they know that knows Y/n best.

“Jean?” Agatha suggests.

“Ew, no,” Wanda says as she steps out of the closet in the dress. “I don't want to ask her to make me look hot for her ex.”

“I'm just saying, they've known each other their whole lives,” Agatha reminds her friends.

“I don't think she'd be much help because based on the stories they've told, Jean didn't have to do much for Y/n’s attention,” Carol adds.

“Hmm, that's true,” Agatha ponders. “What about Darcy? Didn't they try dating at one point?” She suggests next.

“They did?” Wanda and Carol say in unison.

“You ladies are so full of yourselves sometimes. You know, you girls could benefit from paying attention when people speak,” Agatha shakes her head. “Screw it, I'm adding her to the call.”

“Wait,” Wanda tries to stop her but the call is already going through. Darcy answers in her pitch black bedroom.

“Who the hell is - oh hi guys! What the hell is wrong with you? It's one in the morning!” Darcy groans as she turns on the lamp on her nightstand. The bright light reveals more of her setting and more of her than anyone expected to see when she turned on the light.

“Uh Darcy, nip slip,” Carol says as she points at the screen. Darcy pulls her sheets further up and a deeper groan follows as a man's back appears in the background. “Oh, my, who is that?” Carol asks with a laugh.

“It's your fault you called me at one in the morning on a Friday night,” Darcy defends herself.

“In our defense, you didn't have to answer,” Agatha points out.

“Ladies! Focus! My escort is supposed to arrive here in thirty minutes!” Wanda tries to keep everyone in line.

“Right, Darcy! We need your help making Wanda look good for Y/n,” Carol informs Darcy of the reason they disrupted her sleep.

“Oh, I know what could make Wanda look good,” Darcy starts, “she could find a time machine, then go back to the night she rejected Y/n and not do that.”

“Oh come on,” Agatha says.

“Low blow,” Carol says.

“This was a bad idea,” Wanda falls onto the front of her bed.

“Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I thought that I had to but I didn't,” Darcy says as she sits up and yawns. “What can I do to help?”

“There's a fundraiser for the kids' school and I want to wow Y/n into leaving with me instead of Nebula,” Wanda explains. “But I don't know what kind of outfit will do that!”

“Y/n is very simple to please, if you showed up in just one of their shirts and nothing else, they'd marry you on the spot,” Darcy says as if it's obvious that you're not a difficult person.

“Yeah, like Wanda has one of Y/n’s shirts,” Agatha laughs. Wanda gets quiet and looks at the corner of her room where a shirt she kept is lying on the floor. She had been wearing it to bed lately and it no longer smells like you. But she wasn't willing to let it go yet. “Wanda! Are you serious?” Agatha shouts into the phone.

“Calm down, I didn't steal it. I just didn't return it when I found it. But that's besides the point. I'm not showing up to a school event in a T-shirt. We have to do better than that ladies!” Wanda says as she stands up and lets the dress fall to the floor.

“Wow so my nipples are a problem but we're getting the whole show from Wanda and no one is saying anything?” Darcy gripes.

Carol rolls her eyes, “We're far past that by now Lewis.”

“Whatever, do you have any black dresses?” Darcy asks.

“Like a million of them,” Agatha moans, shaking her head, exhausted by this conversation.

“Y/n appreciates a little black dress. I bet you anything that Nebula is wearing a red dress,” Darcy defends her suggestion.

“No, my connection at the school sent me a picture of when they arrived. Nebula is wearing blue,” Agatha says with her phone close to her face as she sends the image to the group.

“Wait!” Darcy says a little too loud, disturbing the man in her bed. “Shut up you big baby,” she rolls her eyes at him. “Look, do you see Y/n’s tie?” Darcy asks with her phone close to her face and the camera at a bad angle again.

“Yeah, what about it?” Agatha questions, not really concerned about the tie as much as she should be.

“Wait, I want to see,” Carol's view changes as well and Wanda is standing and staring at the worst angles of her friends as they look at the image on their phones. “Oh I see,” Carol says.

“I get it now,” Agatha agrees.

“What?” Wanda asks, growing annoyed with her friends.

“Wanda, grab the velvet suit from the back of the closet. The one you wore to that holiday party at my work three years ago,” Agatha directs Wanda. “You're going to show up ready to match Y/n. If that suit doesn't work, then it's their loss. That suit almost turned me.”

“I agree, that suit is magic on you,” Carol says as she remembers seeing pictures of her friend in that suit.

“Carol, stop drooling over Wanda and get ready for dinner with my parents,” Valkyrie says in the background.

“Alright,” Carol sighs, she's not very fond of her fiancee’s conservative family. “Y’all heard the misses. I've got to go. Good luck Maximoff,” she bids everyone goodbye before ending the call.

“I should go too, I have an early morning,” Darcy says before she hangs up.

The screen is just Agatha with Wanda in the corner of her phone. “I should go too so that you're not distracted. Have a good night Wanda. I want all of the dirty details tomorrow,” she ends the conversation altogether leaving Wanda on her own to finish getting ready.

It's not too long before there's a knock on Wanda's door. She opens it and is surprised by the man that stands before her. He is more than she expected, she feels a little speechless. “I'm sorry, I'm not sure if I'm in the right place. Are you Wanda Maximoff?” The handsome stranger with the red tinted glasses asks.

“Uh, um, yes, that's me. Sorry, hi. You're,” Wanda is spacing on his name for a moment then remembers Agatha making a doormat joke about him. She clears her throat to clear her stutter. “I'm assuming that you're Matt, correct.”

He smiles and Wanda can't help but blush at his charming grin. “Yes I am,” he says. “I'm assuming that I'm not what you expected?” His tone is sweet as he steps back from the front door. Anticipating for Wanda to walk with him to the waiting car.

“Honestly? Not really,” Wanda replies as she locks her front door. Agatha really downplayed Matt’s good looks.

“Ah, I see. Is it safe to assume that Agatha forgot to mention the detail that I am blind?” He extends his elbow to her when he feels her get close to him and Wanda accepts it, wrapping her hands at the crook of his elbow. She walks him towards the car while he holds his folded up guide stick in his hand.

“No, I knew that part. She mentioned that right away. But she didn't mention how handsome you were, she said something along the lines of ‘he’s not bad looking for a blind guy.’ Plus all of the ‘blind date’ puns that she was able to work with.” Matt laughs, humored and flattered by the story about his abrasive co-worker.

“Ah, that's interesting. I don't think I've ever exceeded expectations in that department before. I would have thought she asked me to be your fake date because of my charms and looks.” The two enter the car. “She paid for this ride by the way, she wanted me to stress that.”

“I owe her big time,” Wanda says as she lets go of Matt's arm. This was going to be an interesting night for her.

At the fundraiser, you walk around a biding table with Nebula. You can't donate much since you're still paying off Rachel's medical bills and the apartment complex you live in is trying to raise your rent. You're under negotiations but it's looking like no matter what, it's still going to cost you. There isn't much else that you can do other than make it look like you're going to give this school money when they hardly wanted to do anything for your daughter in her time of need.

Nebula quickly pulls you over to the food as the line shortens and the pair of you fill your plates with as much food as they can handle. There aren't many parents that you know at the school because your daughter only hangs out with Billy and Tommy outside of school. At least to your knowledge. That left you finding a random and unclaimed table to stand at with Nebula as you tried to make the most out of the evening.

As the band played covers of popular songs you kept your focus on the woman with you as she became the most entertaining person in the room. That was until something made your eyes subtly scan the room where they inevitably land on Wanda walking in with a man attached to her arm. She's dating? Is your first thought. Your second thought is, That is one hell of a suit.

You quickly return your attention to Nebula but you can't focus on her. She is beautiful, of course, but Wanda is stunning. You can't help but search for her again and feel entirely captivated by her gaze as her eyes meet yours. It takes all of your strength to break the contact.

“We can go say hi,” Nebula says as she pushes around the food on her plate that she didn't like.

“I'm sorry, it's just been so awkward walking around here not knowing anyone,” you say to cover up the fact that you want to switch places with the man that arrived with Wanda. She's never mentioned the guy and she shows up in an outfit matching his glasses. It's unbelievable. It's infuriating.

Wanda’s heart races nervously as she catches your gaze for a moment. She clenches her jaw when you kiss Nebula on the lips. Her pink lipstick stains your lips and she has to clean it off with her thumb. That should be Wanda smiling and removing her lipstick from your lips. She should be the one holding your hand as you walk towards her. Her eyes widen slightly as she realizes that you're walking towards her.

“So what were you telling me about your friend again?” Wanda asks as she tries to strike up a conversation so that it doesn't look obvious that she's here on a mission.

“Are they walking towards us?” Matt asks with an amused smirk.

“Yeah,” Wanda shamelessly admits. She has nothing to hide from Matt. He knows what he's here for. They talked about it at length in the car because she really didn't want to take advantage of him. Matt assured her that really didn't mind.

“So I was telling my friend, Foggy, that just because I can't see doesn't mean I can't-”

“Hey Wanda,” you make a point to interrupt their conversation. “Who is this?” You ask as you move your hand from holding Nebula's to holding her hip.

“Matthew Murdock,” he holds his hand out and you give him a polite shake. “Most people call me Matt. And behind my back some call me Blind Matt,” he jokes and you try to refrain from reacting to his disability. You didn't realize that he was visually impaired. Then you see his guide stick and instantly feel guilty for mentally villainizing him.

“People tend to call me Queer Y/n when I tell them my preferred pronouns,” you retort to get a laugh out of him. “Although, Wanda made it obvious to everyone when I lost a bet and she chose to cut my hair into a mullet,” you continue and this makes Matt laugh.

“I haven't thought about a mullet since my accident. And there's not much that I don't miss the sight of but that has to be one of the things I don't miss seeing, no offense,” he says, making the three of you laugh.

“None taken, I was really happy when she finally gave me the okay to get my haircut again,” you say as you run your fingers through your short hair.

“That's funny, I didn't know you had to wait for her permission,” Nebula says as she sizes up Wanda.

“It was her prize from the bet,” you shrug as if the reason was obvious. “Of course I have to ask for permission.”

“You didn't have to,” Wanda clarifies as she reaches out and squeezes your shoulder with a laugh, “I appreciate that you did but you're just that kind of person.” She looks over at Nebula with what you interpret as a warm smile. “You're very lucky to be dating someone like, Y/n,” she says.

The song starts to slow down and the singer invites the couples to slow dance on the dance floor since they're all here to enjoy a night off from the kids. Nebula starts to pull you away claiming to love the song that's being performed. You look back at Wanda as you follow Nebula to the dance floor. Her expression looks a little funny to you at first. You lose sight of her as people get in the way and remind yourself that you came here with Nebula. She has your undivided attention.

Wanda is hit with a pang of jealousy as Nebula pulls you away for a dance. She stops one of the waiters walking past her with a tray full of champagne flutes and she grabs two. She downs both of them and sets them on a nearby table. “How good are you at slow dancing?” She asks Matt.

“Let's go,” he says as he extends his arm out to her. They make their way to the dance floor and Wanda manages to find a spot where she can watch you. When she notices that she has caught your eye, she smiles at Matt.

You try not to show your jealousy as you lean back to gaze into Nebula's eyes. She does have very pretty eyes. You smile and she smiles back up at you. The next slow song plays and you recognize it almost immediately. It's one that your daughter likes to play in the car a lot. Your eyes find Wanda who is holding Matt close to her.

You can't focus on the pain that small act of intimacy is causing you. It's not fair to Nebula. It's not fair to Wanda, who seems very happy. It's not fair to yourself. But you can't tear your eyes away from her. Matt whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh. Even through the loud music and the crowd, her laugh spreads a warmth in your chest.

Wanda lets Matt spin her around during the song as she allows herself to focus on having fun with him instead. Tonight isn't the night to play games and hope that you ditch your date to be with her. She's an adult and she doesn't need to act like a child. She can have her moment with you another day. Tonight, she's going to have fun with someone that she has no ties to because Matt seems like a really great guy.

As the second song comes to an end, Wanda ends up facing your direction because of the way Matt spun her and her heart stops. You and Nebula are sharing a kiss but it's different. Your eyes are open and looking for Wanda. Are you playing a game too? She can't do this anymore. She starts to feel overwhelmed under your intense gaze. She wants you to look at her that way but not under these circumstances. She doesn't want to be playing these kinds of games. Not with you. Everything between the two of you hasn't felt as childish as it does right now.

“I'm sorry, Matt. I need some air,” Wanda says as she lets go of him. She helps him get off of the dance floor before she leaves the building.

You watch Wanda run out of the event without her date and you stop kissing Nebula. The woman in your arms pulls out the red handkerchief from the breast pocket of your jacket. She wipes your lips and sighs. “Go to her,” she says as she fixes your handkerchief.

“Nebula I-”

“Y/n, don't apologize. Go after her. She's your person. It's okay, I knew it was never me. This was fun while it lasted.” She gives you a kind smile as she pats your chest and dusts off your shoulders.

“You're amazing, you know that?” You say to her, at a loss for words. Not knowing how else to thank her for not making this difficult for you.

“I do, now go!” She turns you towards the direction of the exit and gives you a small shove. You laugh as you take her advice and start running toward the exit to try and catch Wanda before she gets too far away.

You look for her in the lobby but it's completely empty. Then you see her at the corner of the street waiting to cross. It's pouring outside but you can't care about that right now. You push the glass door open and run outside. “Wanda!” You call out to her just as a loud clap of thunder overpowers your voice. “Wanda! Wait!” You shout as you run to get closer but the cross signal has given her the go ahead to cross the street. You push yourself to run faster as the storm rages on.

The street is empty. There are no cars waiting for her to cross. There is no one outside on the sidewalks. This time it is just you and Wanda. So you don't hesitate when you stop her in the middle of the crosswalk and grab her wrist. You spin her so that her body crashes against yours. Neither of you have a moment to process before you press your lips against hers. As you kiss Wanda, you feel her melt in your arms. You feel as though everything in the world is falling into place. You feel a little dizzy kissing her, losing yourself completely in the way her lips collide against yours. Surrendering to the emotions that you’ve been repressing for too long. You love this woman and you can't deny it anymore.

The kiss breaks when both of you need to come up for air and a car honks at the pair of you. Wanda pulls you onto the sidewalk, across the street from the venue. “What was that?” Wanda shouts once the two of you are safe on the concrete. The rain is still coming down hard and it's not easy to hear without a raised volume.

“I’ve tried so hard to see you as just a friend,” you shout back, “but I can’t!” Wanda opens her mouth to say something but you don't want her to reject you again. “Before you say anything. Please let me finish. I’ve tried to be with other people. You’ve seen that! But you are the only person I want to be with. I love you, Wanda. I can’t- I won’t take it back this time.”

“Then don't,” Wanda says as she puts your hand on the back of your neck and pulls you in for another kiss. You excitedly swoop her in your arms and spin her around as you kiss her on the side walk in the pouring rain.

She giggles as you set her back down and lean your forehead against hers. “Can I take you home?” You ask her feeling a rush of emotions that you can't express out here. You want to be alone with her in a dry setting.

“Please,” she answers as she smiles up at you.

Hand in hand, the two of you run across the street to grab your car from the valet. As you wait in the lobby you watch Nebula escorting Matt out and you feel relieved about not having to worry about either of them. When you get into the car with Wanda, she kisses you on the lips again before you can start the engine. You can't believe this is real. But you don't ask her to pinch you. If this is a fantasy, you want to live in it forever.

Every red light that you hit on the way to her house, the two of you take the moment to kiss. As you drive, you have your hand on her thigh. Wanda almost regrets not wearing a dress so that she could tease you with more exposed skin. But she's also glad that she didn't because with the outfit she did wear, she managed to draw only your attention and not unwanted attention from others. That's what was most important to her.

It wasn't about being the hottest person in the room for her. It was about being the person that you wanted to leave with.

As the two of you stumble into her home, swept up in the heightened emotions of it all, she starts to get into her head a bit. The two of you fall onto her sofa with you on top. She wants this to work with you. She doesn't want this to end before it begins. As you kiss her neck she almost gives in and allows the two of you to release months of built up tension. But she can't get out of her head now.

“Wait,” she says as she pushes you back. “Wait, I can't do this right now.” She says between breaths. She hadn't realized how breathless she was until she could hardly catch her breath. She slips her body out from under yours and sits on the couch.

“I'm sorry,” you say as you pant and back away. “I shouldn't have gotten so carried away I thought-” you say as you stand up to leave.

“No wait,” Wanda quickly grabs your hand and tugs on your arm. “Stay, let me… let me collect my thoughts and we can talk.” Her big apologetic eyes pull you in and remove the fear and doubt from your mind. You sit next to her and wait for her to start. You give her the space to think about what she wants to communicate with you. She deserves to have this time. You can wait to hear her out as you sit by her with your fingers laced with hers. Both of you are still soaked from the rain. Her hair isn't as neat as when she arrived to the event and you're certain that you don't look nearly as put together as when you left your apartment.

“I love you too,” Wanda states first. “I'm in love with you,” her voice waivers this time and you can see tears building up. She clears her throat. “I want to be clear about that first. And I want you to stay with me tonight. I just don't think tonight is the night that we take things all the way.”

You nod, “Of course,” you say as you release your hand from hers and put your arm around her body. You press the side of your head to the top of hers and take a deep breath as she leans into your side. “Although, I will argue that spending the night would've been made easier if you got me out of these wet clothes. That's all I'm saying,” you jokingly point out and it makes Wanda laugh.

“That's right,” she looks down at her wet clothes and then at yours. She bites her lips as she thinks of a possible solution but she’s slightly scared of the answer. “Do you have anything in your car?”

“I didn't pack an overnight bag because my intention was to go home after,” you tell her and kiss her cheek. “How about this,” you start as you pull away to face her as you speak, “I get naked — hold on stay with me now — I get naked. Put the nice stuff on some hangers to air dry and I toss the things I can wear to bed in the dryer. And I hop in the shower so that you're not tempted by me until they're done.” Wanda laughs and rolls her eyes. Your tone is very light and humorous but it's a good suggestion.

“Okay,” Wanda nods in agreement.

“So I can sleep in my underwear?” You ask, just to take the extra step in getting her consent.

“Yes, you can sleep in your underwear,” she stands up from the couch and pulls you up with her. The two of you are giddy and giggle as you climb the stairs together. Neither of you tried to cross a line, you undress in her bathroom with the door shut and she waits until you announce that you're in the shower to collect your clothes. She starts with putting the white under shirt and your boxers into the dryer first before she focuses on properly hanging your clothing. She gets changed into dry clothes and hangs her wet clothing as well.

When the dryer is done she grabs a towel for you and neatly folds everything before she takes it to the bathroom. She announces that it's there for you when she leaves it. When you step out of the bathroom, she kisses you as she passes you so that she can shower and properly clean her face with her products.

You text Jean that you're not coming home tonight but you don't tell her who you're with and let her continue to assume that you're with Nebula as you wait for Wanda in her bed. Jean sends you a winking gif then some gifs with innuendos that make you laugh. You set your phone to charge next to Wanda's and settle into the bed that you've missed sleeping in.

When she joins you, she starts by laying on top of you to kiss you on the lips again. You're happy to respond to the kiss and hold back on growing too eager to turn it into anything more. “I love you,” Wanda says with a bright grin.

“I love you,” you say while wrapping her in your arms. You close your eyes and sigh. “I'm going to be really mad if this is all a dream,” you mutter, which makes Wanda laugh.

She looks down at you as her smile slowly drops and not because her happiness has faded but because she wants you to believe her. She wants you to understand that she is serious when she tells you that this isn't a fantasy. “Y/n,” she calls softly, you open your eyes and connect with her loving gaze, “this is real.”

Chapter 21

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