#like do I put the warnings for the whole fic on each chapter?? put only the chapter warnings??? literally this is me: 🧍‍♀️

[myokk]

before it felt like a sin, ch. 1

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 3000

summary: Eloise never wanted to be different.

And yet, her differences are what have defined her life up until this point: growing up as a squib in one of the most prominent wizarding families, being exiled to muggle society, and then attending Hogwarts at the age of sixteen.

She finds herself thrust into the life she should have been prepared for from birth but was denied. As she navigates this new life and her new precarious position in her family, she must come to terms with the fact that maybe what she dreamed of her whole life isn't turning out how she ever expected it would.

a/n: Hi everyone!! I decided to post this here too...I'm slowly going through everything I've written so far, and I want to post each chapter here as I edit them. I'm hoping that this can be a way to a) get back in to writing more, and b) get better at my art as I make full illustrations for each chapter. Let me know what you think!! :)

There is nothing quite as horrible as being a muggle, Eloise thought savagely as she ripped out yet another stitch in the landscape she was embroidering. At least, it was supposed to be a landscape. Maybe with her head tilted to the left and with her eyes almost closed so everything blurred together, it might resemble one. She did just that, trying her hardest to make out some recognizable shape and blast the stupid practice of manually pushing colored thread through a fabric in some sort of -

“And what is this, Miss Babbit?”

Eloise jumped at the sound and looked up at the scowling face of her teacher, and then quickly back down at the tangled thread in her lap. Behind her, she could hear the hushed giggles of the other girls in her class.

“Oh! Er…it’s -”

“How long have you been here?” the woman interrupted.

“One hour…I just -”

“Don’t be smart with me. I mean, at this institute.”

“Five years.” Eloise glared down at her embroidery as if it had personally offended her. It wasn’t like she was actively trying to be bad at everything, but she had the distinct disadvantage - how had it ever come to be that she would be at a disadvantage to muggles? - of not having spent a lifetime being prepared for muggle society and all that it entailed. The last five years had been a monotonous, endless cycle of lessons designed to turn her into the perfect lady: French (a waste of time as Eloise was already fluent), embroidery (a waste of time as the things she embroidered weren’t actually useful), dancing (a waste of time as she was already engaged to be married - why would she bother trying to woo another silly man?), and her most dreaded class of all: etiquette. No matter how many years had been spent trying to assimilate into muggle culture, her thoughts still got muddled when she tried to remember the steps to a dance, or how to properly address the son of a duke.

Did it really matter, anyways, what the other girls thought? She had pretended her whole life to be the daughter she thought her parents had wanted - now she was simply pretending that she hadn’t been thrown into the muggle world without a second thought. What was a bit more pretending - that she didn’t care? That she hadn’t been tossed aside without a second thought?

“Exactly. Five years. And yet, you have shown no progress whatsoever. This -” a finger jabbed accusingly at the embroidery - “is absolutely horrendous. If your parents hadn’t continued to make such a sizeable donation every year, I would have deemed you a lost cause and sent you packing when you first arrived. How your family ever managed your betrothal to the son of an earl is beyond me.”

Eloise grimaced at the mention of her fiance as her teacher clapped her hands together to get the attention of the class - a wholly unnecessary action due to the fact that it was already being given. “Class is dismissed. Please collect your belongings and put them in the correct place. Remember, as future wives and mothers, you must be organized in all aspects of your life. Many of you will be managing important households and the slightest misstep -“ a slight glance to Eloise out of the corner of her eye - “can cause the biggest of scandals.”

Eloise raced to gather her things and leave the classroom before everyone else. No matter how many years had been spent at the school, she couldn’t help but hate sitting through the classes amongst the judgmental stares and snide remarks. Although things had started out shaky at the finishing school - to be expected, really, when you’ve grown up in wizarding society and then are then forced to live as a muggle - it still stung that after all these years, she still hadn’t found a friendly face. She was treated as if she were a pariah: it was as if the other girls just knew that something was different about her. But…wasn’t that the great irony of it all? She wasn’t different than them. She was a filthy squib.

When she first arrived at the school, she was an anomaly. A twelve-year-old girl who didn’t know how to play the piano or who the queen was. It was clear to everyone that Eloise wasn’t the charity case of the school - her parents were obviously quite wealthy - and yet they seemingly wanted nothing to do with her. Whereas the others got regular letters and visits from their family, it was as if Eloise were an orphan. Nothing new to her of course, but to her peers this otherness aided them in her ostracization.

Upon entering her room, she was abruptly pulled out of her thoughts. Something wasn’t right. Everything seemed the same: a twin bed perfectly made opposite a small wardrobe, a plain wooden desk placed between them. The weak afternoon sunlight shone through the window, illuminating her desk. But…there.

That…

Placed on her bed, resting on the pillow, was a letter.

She never received letters.

Eloise shoved her embroidery under her bed and hungrily grabbed at it, pausing when she saw the address. Miss E. Babbit. The Third Bedroom on the Left… It seemed vaguely familiar to her in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

As she read the letter, though, it became apparent to her exactly why this was. Although not exactly the same as the one her brother had received six years earlier, it quickly became apparent that this was a Hogwarts letter. For her. For Miss E. Babbit.

Hands shaking, she set the letter down on her desk and sat on the edge of her bed. She smoothed her hands over her skirt over and over, taking comfort in the familiar softness as she tried to even her breathing.

How was this possible? She had all but accepted the fact that she was a squib. The shame of her family, a dirty secret to be hidden away and never talked about or mentioned again. Her parents had suspected as much by the time she had turned seven without any signs of magic whatsoever manifesting around her - not even a basic transformation of brussel sprouts to sweets during dinner. It was ultimately confirmed, however, when her own Hogwarts acceptance letter never arrived. She had spent the whole year before her banishment daydreaming about her life at Hogwarts, still optimistic that there could be something magical inside of her. Her brother, Leo, came home every holiday with wonderful stories of his new friends and teachers, and the subjects he was learning at school. Even back then, at twelve years old, Eloise hadn’t been sure if he was actually hopeful she wasn’t a squib, or if he had been trying to prolong the fantasy for her before it all came crashing down.

Although she had had five years to come to terms with her new life, there was still a small part of her that hoped. A small “what if…”. She had tried time and time again to squash that tiny ray of optimism that would escape every so often, tried so very hard to cultivate a hard exterior that wouldn’t let any sort of vulnerability shine through. And that optimism was a vulnerability, after all. It was that vulnerability that had made it absolutely impossible for her to fit in the muggle world, and made it so that she didn’t really want to try.

Five years to come to terms with the fact that she needed a new purpose for her life and…

…not anymore?

Eloise grabbed the letter and greedily read through it again, drinking in all of the words. She paused at the end, thinking. Was this a forgery? Some sort of awful joke orchestrated by her brother? Leo had never been cruel to her in the past; in fact, he was the one who always encouraged her and was the most probable source of the small optimism that remained within her. However, she had no way of knowing how he had changed since she had last seen him. It had been, after all, five very long years. And not once had she heard from him, even though he had promised her through huge sobbing gulps that he would never abandon her. Maybe their parents had slowly poisoned him against her. It would be right on the nose for them, after all.

Looking at the envelope again, however…Third Bedroom on the Left…no. It was too specific. Nobody in her previous life had any reason to even want to contact her again, and nobody in her current life even knew what Hogwarts was, let alone have the ability to convincingly forge a letter just to have some fun at her expense.

A light, bubbly feeling began to spread throughout her body as it sunk in that this was real. She was going to Hogwarts. Soon, a - squinting at the letter again - a Professor Fig would be contacting her and giving her things to study. A huge grin slowly spread across her face and she hugged the letter to her chest as she fell back on her bed. She read through it again. Was it the fifth time already? It felt as though no amount of times rereading the letter would ever be enough.

Eloise got up and walked over to look at the calendar on her desk. She was surprised to see that September 1st was in only two days. The days at the finishing school moved in such a strange, sluggish way. They all felt the same. Monotonous. French and Latin and embroidery and household management and Merlin even knows what else all blending into each other in an endless parade of dusty classrooms and gossip and boredom.

The light feeling left her in an instant as, after years of practice, the optimism was squashed back down. But how will you even get to London? And, her brain added sneakily, you haven’t even shown any signs of magic. Maybe you’ll just be returned back here after they realize their mistake.

No, she thought fiercely, gripping the letter. Until -

A tapping came from the window. A tentative smile returned at the sight of a tawny brown owl with another envelope in its beak. She ripped it open as soon as it was in her hands (again addressed to Miss E. Babbit) and along with the letter a small, purple pouch fell out of the envelope and onto her bed.

Miss Eloise Babbit,

I am pleased to be the wizard charged with such an important task as escorting you to Hogwarts in two days’ time. It is something extraordinary to be accepted in your fifth-year, and as such, I expect extraordinary things from you. I have enclosed a small pouch along with this envelope, and in it are some items that will be vital to you in the upcoming days. I have included books for you to study at your leisure, and a small gobstone that will bring you to our rendezvous point in London. All you have to do is touch it at noon on the 1st and you will be transported instantly.

Your family has not been informed of your acceptance. I am sure you understand why - at this, Eloise scoffed quietly to herself - which is why I will personally be your escort.

I am looking forward to meeting you and bringing you to the sorting ceremony in two days’ time.

Yours,

Eleazar Fig

The handwriting was tiny and spidery and cramped, but it didn’t stop Eloise from reading it with the same vigor as the previous letter and as many times. Finally, she turned to the small pouch that had fallen onto her bed when she opened the second envelope. It must have had an invisible extension charm, because it was filled to the brim with books on basic spellwork and general wizarding history. Professor Fig had no way of knowing, but Eloise had already read many of these books and many more during the year her brother had started Hogwarts, as she had needed to know absolutely everything about what would be awaiting her. A few years may have passed since she had stepped foot in her family’s library, but she couldn’t get the books or their contents out of her brain even if she had wanted to. She had really wanted to forget everything she knew about the magical world when it was confirmed she was a squib but it was a futile effort. As she zoned out during her piano lessons, she would find herself mentally going through the movements to cast different charms.

It was painful to be thinking about things from the life that had been ripped away from her, to know that what she was thinking about would never come to pass, that she would never be able to wield magic - and yet she couldn’t find herself able to stop.

As Eloise picked out one of the books and settled into her armchair, a steely resolve overcame her.

She would prove that she deserved to be there, and was just as capable as any of they were. She would make her parents regret ever discarding her like she was nothing.

She was worthy. She was capable. And she would prove it.

The morning of September 1st dawned cold and rainy. Absolutely perfect.

Eloise had pretended to be sick the night before, and no one had suspected a thing when she stayed in bed long after all of the other girls had gotten ready and headed to breakfast. As the last of the chattering faded away down the hallway, Eloise finally got out of bed and prepared herself for the day. It was difficult to sit still long enough to braid her hair. Her fingers wouldn’t stop trembling and she had to restart countless times. Finally, she tied the black ribbon at the end into a neat bow and turned to the drawer of her desk to retrieve the small purple pouch she had hidden away.

Everything she deemed important enough to come along with her had already been placed inside: the books from Professor Fig, the hair ribbons gifted to her by her brother many years ago, and some clothing. Nothing else was coming with. She needed the fresh start. Besides, anything else she might need would be supplied, as her acceptance letter had specifically stated that any school supplies would be provided to her.

Waiting the hours before noon came along proved to be more difficult than Eloise had imagined. Time seemed to be moving slower than the molasses that had come with the breakfast sent up to her, the steady patter of the rain becoming a sort of metronome keeping time as she paced back and forth. Wasn’t there anything that could distract her, even for a bit? She glanced at the clock. Only five minutes had passed since the last time. 10.35.

The second hand ticking away in tandem with the sound of rain splashing against her window.

What if this was all a trick? What if she arrived at Hogwarts, and they turned her away because they realized they had made a mistake? After all, why would they admit a sixteen-year-old? Surely she was too old; every other student had started Hogwarts at the age of twelve and had shown signs of magic much earlier than that. She still hadn’t shown any signs of magical capability whatsoever, and didn’t feel any different than she had before receiving the letter. It had to be a fluke.

As her thoughts started veering into the melancholy she was prone to, she shook her head. No. Today was a happy, exciting day. She wasn’t going to squash the optimism down today, not when she needed it most. All of these thoughts she was having were simply that: thoughts. Not reality. Hogwarts never made a mistake, and in all of the history books she had read, she couldn’t recall an instance of someone being turned away at the door. Granted, she had also never heard of someone being admitted so late. But, better to focus on what she did know, which was that she had gotten the letter. It must be right in its assumption that she had magic.

Trying to pass the time was easier said than done. She ended up quizzing herself on all of the charms she had memorized in the books sent by Professor Fig, moving an imaginary wand in the precise movements needed to successfully cast and focusing on her pronunciation. She had studied all of these forms late into both nights she had had the books, and when she would eventually close her eyes to sleep, the wand movements were all she saw.

Eloise was determined that she would receive pity from nobody. Nobody was going to look at her like she was lacking. She had gotten enough of that to last a lifetime, and now that she was given this opportunity she wasn’t about to waste it.

When noon finally struck, Eloise was ready and waiting. She eagerly grabbed the gobstone that was sitting on her desk and felt the familiar tugging sensation in her navel as she was whisked away to London and the beginning of her new life.

next chapter

[folkwhoredoll]

library affections - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: there are two things that you love in this world; rafe and books

word count: 0.9k

warnings/tags: none, just fluff with sweet boyfriend!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever thank you all enough for your support in all of my works :< tbh i did not expect to gain so much interaction because this blog is still relatively new but here you all are and i appreciate each and every one of you <3 this fic is another fluff boyfriend!rafe fic (is it obvious that i like fluff so much lmao) and i've written this a while ago. i hope you'll like this one! if you have a request or prompt in mind, feel free to send me a message. happy reading!

masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Being a regular visitor at the Camerons' estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Camerons didn't mind your presence, with your family being a close friend of theirs. Thus, it was no surprise that you ended up dating the one and only son of Ward Cameron.

With his father and stepmother often occupied and his sisters frequently out with friends, you and Rafe usually find yourselves with the house to yourselves, save for the occasional presence of the household staff. Yet, you've never minded.

Today follows a similar pattern. Ward left for a morning meeting, Wheezie went to school, and Sarah departed at noon to join John B's group. Surprisingly, even Rafe isn't home, having agreed to a golf outing with Topper and Kelce. Although he initially invited you to join, you declined, preferring to avoid the "boy talk" and the scorching sun. Thus, you find yourself waiting for Rafe in the living room, idly scrolling through your phone.

It's been around two in the afternoon when you got bored, sighing and deciding to stand up to walk around the house. Your feet already know where you're going when you face the familiar entrance to the Camerons' Library.

This room is your most loved spot in the whole estate, apart from Rafe's room. The vast shelves of bright book covers from different times always amaze you. If you could, you'd live in this room. Rafe has found you exploring this library countless times; even his sisters know it's the first place to check when you're not around the house.

Quickly scanning the shelves for a book, you settled upon a fantasy fiction novel, clutching the book as you made your way to a couch by the window. The first few chapters had you hooked immediately, eyes rapidly passing through every word as you moved chapter by chapter. The book was so good that it blanked your other senses, making you jump when you suddenly heard Rafe's voice.

"I knew you'd be here." He smirked, still in his golfing outfit, as he stood over you.

"Hi, Rafe." You smiled up at him, putting the book down on your lap. "How's golfing?"

Rafe plopped beside you, stretching his legs and putting an arm around your shoulder. "It was good. I got bored with Top's whining about his break-up with Sarah, so I left."

You chuckled when you saw his eyes roll, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. "They were together for a long time. You can't blame him."

"I guess." He shrugged before flashing you a flirty grin. "But I also want to spend time with my girl."

You snorted. "Yeah, okay."

"What? I do! I feel guilty about leaving you here alone." He defended.

"I don't mind, Rafe." You spoke.

"Hm. I bet you don't. But still."

You raised your brows, silently urging him to explain what he meant.

"I just mean that you were too distracted by that book, baby. I could've been an intruder, but you wouldn't even know. What is that about anyway?"

Your eyes lit up at his question; you've always loved speaking about the books you've read. And Rafe loved hearing you talk, even if he's mostly confused.

"I just started reading it, so I don't really know what it's about yet, but there's this girl, and she has electricity powers!" You started excitedly.

Rafe listened intently. He couldn't help but feel affection for you, marveling at how your eyes sparkled with passion for the story. Despite the chaotic world outside, at this moment, it was just the two of you, surrounded by the tranquility of the library.

As you continued to talk, Rafe's mind wandered, reflecting on how much you meant to him. You were the one person who could effortlessly penetrate his tough exterior, revealing the softer, more vulnerable side of him that he often kept hidden from the world. He felt at ease with you, free to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule.

Lost in his thoughts, Rafe reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You paused mid-sentence, startled by the sudden touch, before leaning into his hand, relishing the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you noticed the distant look in his eyes.

Rafe shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing, I'm just... happy. Happy to be here with you."

A soft blush colored your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. At that moment, surrounded by the scent of old books and the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the window, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Leaning in, Rafe pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion as you returned his affectionate gaze.

With a contented sigh, Rafe settled back against the couch, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his side. Together, you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the simple pleasure of each other's company.

At that moment, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the library, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.

[inuyashaluver]

would you maybe write a Katie McCabe fic with a reader who’s never really had a relationship before so missed out on all the cliche teenage love moments in their teenager years so now that they’re in a relationship Katie goes out of her way to try and make up for all the things she missed and reader just gets to see a whole new, loving side of Katie.

teenage dream - katie mccabe

katie mccabe x reader

description: in which you’ve never been in a relationship, when you miss out on the lovey dovey moments, your girlfriend helps you out

warnings: fluffy fluffy, swearing

a/n: ahh!! such a cute request, made my heart all fuzzy, thank you, lovely, enjoy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

your girlfriend, katie, is a very. determined. woman. she would do anything for you, without a question, without a second thought, without a doubt, she’s there, and she wants to make sure you know that.

when you stumbled into the arsenal training facility for the first time with your big, curious eyes and sheepish smile, she knew she needed to have you, and that was her plan exactly.

—

you had just been signed to arsenal from sydney fc back in australia. moving to england, specifically to london was one of the scariest thoughts you could muster, leaving everything you knew behind to start a new chapter of your life at just 25.

but thankfully, you had your matildas teammates to help you along the way, fitting in almost immediately and settling into a place you now considered home.

the arsenal girls were your family amongst all the chaos and you truly loved everyone, a particular irish, however, caught your heart more than others.

—

it was one of your first training sessions. you were partnered up with steph, kicking the ball to each other back and forth until she sent the ball way over your head, unfortunately landing right at the back of katie mccabe’s head.

“what the fuck!” she groans, hand cradling the back of her head before turning with a glare to figure out who the culprit was.

only, when she turned around to see your shocked face, she visibly relaxed, offering you a charming smile as you apologised profusely.

“katie, oh my god, i’m so sorry! steph kicked it really hard and then i tried to get it, but it went straight to your head, and then-” you ramble, the words coming out of your mouth faster than your brain could think.

“you know, sweetheart, if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask?” she grins, you blink and look at her in a dazed state, your cheeks lightly dusted with pink as you looked at each other.

she chuckles at your expression, taking a step forward to be directly in front of you.

“o-oh, um” you stutter, she smiles reassuringly but your brain couldn’t comprehend anything coherent at all.

“did you want the ball back?” she asks amusingly, all you can do is nod, katie smiles and places the ball into your hands, purposefully grazing her fingers against yours, she smirks at the way your breath hitched at nothing but a simple graze of your fingers, she loved this.

you thank her softly before rushing over to steph, cupping your flushed face while she looks at you amusingly. you fan yourself and steal little glances at katie only to see she was already analysing your every move. the fluidity of your movements leaving her in a hypnotised state.

you were both driving each other crazy.

—

katie didn’t try to hide her advances on you, the whole team would tease you for your reactions to her flirting and katie relished the whole situation.

she loved that she made you all shy to the point where you couldn’t look at her, even when she was basically doing nothing.

from small gestures of holding the door open for you, handing you your water bottle, helping you put on your tracker, you were a blushing mess. it was even worse when she would shower you with compliments.

“hey, beautiful, i like your boots, or maybe i just like the girl wearing them” she’d call out cheekily from next to you in the change room, “thank you” you say bashfully, making her grin widely as she analysed your face, knowing your brain was malfunctioning.

she’d always spot you in the gym and it was obvious to anyone that the two of you liked each other from every interaction you had.

you’d be training weights and katie would make an effort to linger around you just in case you ‘needed’ help.

“hold on, babe, let me help you” she’d laugh softly, before you even got to attempt to lift the weight off the rack, katie was there behind you with a soft smile.

she’d hover her hands by your sides as you’d squat the weight, giving you encouraging words and smiles that had your body burning.

“two more, darlin’, come on” she cheered, when you finished the set, she grinned happily, “good girl” she praised, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“smashed it, didn’t even need me” she grins, “nah, i did, thanks, katie” you breathe out, smiling at her when she handed you your water bottle with a wink before walking away, leaving you a blushing mess that steph and caitlin were pissing themselves laughing about.

“stunned mullet over here” caitlin teases, you roll your eyes and push her off you when she attempts to kiss your cheek, steph laughs at the two of you as you bicker like kids. you like katie and you were sure of it now.

—

surprisingly, you were the one who made the first move, tired of all her teasing and wanting to take that next step forward. you cornered her after a game one day and she was extremely surprised to say the least.

when you dragged her to the car park by her hand, she interlaced your fingers on instinct and smiled at you affectionately when you squeezed them for comfort.

“katie” you start, “mhm, that’s me, gorgeous” she grins, pulling you slightly closer by your hand.

“i was just wondering if you wanted to..um, i don’t know, go for a coffee or something tomorrow?” you ask nervously, katie was smiling so hard, her cheeks were starting to hurt.

“what, like a date?” she assured, her grin not once dropping at your new found confidence. maybe you were around her too much.

“um, yeah” you mumble, she moves to grab your other hand and pulls you forward, looking at you lovingly. “i’d love to” she kisses your cheek quickly and you try not to let your knees buckle from under you,

“thank you for asking, babe” she places her hand on your bicep and holds it gently, you smile up at her and nod, letting her walk you to her car, departing with a sweet kiss to her cheek that had her stomach swarming with butterflies.

—

when you went to coffee the next day, it was like you’d known each other for years. you were so similar, both of you would talk excitedly about random things while you learnt more about each other.

katie was incredibly respectful, she just did everything right that you couldn’t fault her. she was perfect. she made you feel so incredibly comfortable, she loved that you were so authentically yourself, she loved everything about you.

katie made you so comfortable in fact, about 4 dates in, you’d told her all about your relationship history.

you’d always been in talking stages with people but nothing would ever come of it, she was incredibly understanding and supportive, listening intently to your every word as she caressed your hand for comfort.

in her head, she was planning all the ways she was going to spoil you, to make you giddy in puppy love. she was incredibly determined to give you everything you deserved.

so, when katie asked you to be her girlfriend, she was proud knowing she was your first.

—

when you were at her house cuddling and watching a rom com, you’d expressed mindlessly how you wanted that teenage lovey dovey experience and katie made an immediate mental note to give you that. gently kissing your cheek with a sly grin as you both watched the movie.

the next day, you’d arrived at training to see your locker with little heart sticky notes stuck all over it. you gasp and moved closer, opening up your locker to see a small bouquet of flowers with a little note attached to them,

‘pretty flowers for my pretty girl, from your secret admirer -k’ you were borderline almost in tears over the small gesture, your heart clutching at the thought of her remembering your conversation.

when you went into the change room to find katie chatting to leah, she was left breathless when you rushed over and pulled her into a sweet kiss, letting out a little noise of surprise into your mouth.

she immediately pulled you closer by your hips and smiled into your mouth, you pulled back with a quick peck to her lips.

she smiles brightly when you pull away, you wrap your arms around her neck and tugged her into a hug.

she sways you gently while you thanked her, smiling at leah to see she was recording the two of you with her phone with her own bright grin on her face.

you wouldn’t let go, holding her close to you in an attempt to convey everything you were feeling. she hums at your embrace, her hands gently caressing your waist as she holds you close.

giggling and whispering in your ear as you hold her. you kiss her cheek and part from her reluctantly when you had to change for training.

—

you both had a day off the next day and katie had convinced you to head out on a date. a mini carnival on a sunday afternoon being the location.

you’d walked around hand in hand giggling and chatting amongst the carnival, stopping for photos whenever the two of you were asked.

you both ate carnival food and went on rides, the bright smiles for both of you being the only expressions you’d had all day.

then, katie spotted a photobooth and she immediately dragged you over. there were four photos, katie had you perched up on her lap with her arms wrapped firmly around your middle.

the first photo was the two of you with happy faces with your cheeks smushed together.

one of you kissing katie’s cheek while she closes her eyes in a giggle.

the next one was katie following suit, grabbing your face and jokingly biting your cheek while you laugh.

and the last one, katie pulling you into a loving kiss, the light pink evident on both of your faces.

she grins at you while she watches you look over the photos with a love sick expression.

you really felt like a teenager at this moment, feeling so giddy over the girl, you were so grateful for her.

—

now whenever the two of you are in the gym, katie uses you as the weight, knowing that it made you giggle.

as soon as she saw you in the room, she gestures for you to come closer with her finger, a smirk evident on her face.

“come here, baby” she entices, you roll your eyes amusingly and make your way to where she was sitting. you stand in between her legs with your hands on her shoulders as she held your hips, looking up at you as you brushed away a loose hair that fell from her ponytail.

she only let the embrace happen for a few seconds until she lifts you up bridal style, squatting with your weight like it was nothing. every time she’d get up she’d hoist you up in her arms and you would yell and giggle at the height, holding onto her for dear life even though you know she’d never drop you.

“katie!” you giggle when she peppers your cheek with kisses while she held you, feeling her smile against your skin.

“mhm?” she mumbles, moving to your other cheek and continuing her little kiss attack. you laugh brightly when she moves her lips around your face before she moves to kiss your lips gently, lasting for a few seconds until she put you on the ground.

she smiles satisfyingly at your pink cheeks, making an effort to playfully slap your behind when you bent down to pick up her water.

“easy, mccabe” you taunt, passing her the water with a kiss on her cheek, she chuckles and takes a sip while she winks at you before she helps spot you as usual.

—

everyday with katie offered something new, she absolutely spoilt you with an amount of love you didn’t even know was possible.

it only got more intense when you moved in together, happily and easily calling you cooper’s other mum.

not to say you didn’t spoil her either, you showed your appreciation to katie through simple gestures that she was incredibly grateful for.

there was a lot of love and mutual respect for one another that was obvious to anyone and you both couldn’t be happier.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - just pretend it’s you! ily beffy

liked by stephcatley and 44,232 others

katie_mccabe11: the missus is pretty cute

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yourname: mammy katie

↳ katie_mccabe11: mammy (y/n)

leahwilliamsonn: still don’t know how you pulled this one

↳ yourname: luck of the irish

↳ katie_mccabe11: watch it.

[love-quinn]

— COLLECTORS' GUIDE

summary — you love books, and spencer can't figure out why you don't have a single one inside your apartment. his only solution is, of course, to buy you some.

warnings — swearing, reader has a toxic ex

pairing — spencer agnew x fem!mythical reader

pronouns — none (you/yours)

featuring — spencer agnew, nicole enayati, vianai austin (mentioned), kiana parker (mentioned)

word count — 1.8k

note — as someone who LOVES mythical kitchen i've been toying around with the idea of spencer and someone from that show or even just mythical in general, also she was speaking to me she told me she's a bookworm i don't make the rules sorry. thank you so much for all the love on my last two spencer fics <333 hope you enjoy

LA’s a big city; it’s loud, it’s dirty, and it’s busy. Working in the industry you do, you don’t have a whole lot of calmness in your life, which is why you make it your personal mission to make your apartment as soft and cozy as possible. 

You pile your couch with throw blankets and pillows, you have lamps where you can control the brightness, you hang art on the walls and you love it there. You layer your rugs and you keep candles on every shelf. Your apartment is one hundred percent yours, and that’s the reason Spencer likes spending time there as much as he does. 

You and Spencer are a fairly new couple, you’ve only been together a few weeks, and he still can’t quite believe the two of you are together. You work in the Mythical side of the office as a producer and sometimes on-camera for Mythical Kitchen so the two of you see each other fairly often but not every single day.

He likes to think he knows you pretty well – he is your boyfriend. But one of his favorite parts about being in this relationship with you is getting to learn more about you. Neither of you are shooting anything today so he decides to drop by your desk during his lunch break. You’re on yours too, you and Nicole are chatting across your desks, you have half a wrap in one hand and a folded over paperback novel in the other and Spencer brightens at seeing you.

“Hi, babe,” he drops a kiss on your hairline, leaning over and peering at what you’re doing. “I was gonna see if you wanted to go for lunch with me but you seem to have it covered.” 

You tilt your head back to look him in the eye, face lighting up. “Hi! I didn’t know you were coming over here.”

He shrugs, leaning on the back of your chair. Nicole excuses herself to go meet Vi for lunch like they planned and offers Spencer her chair while she’s gone so he doesn’t have to hover. Spencer watches you smile up at her as she leaves and can’t stop the frown from making its way onto his face. 

“You’re not going with them?” From what he knew, the three of you were really good friends, at the very least close coworkers. Seeing Nicole talk about her plans with your mutual friend right in front of you without inviting you felt�� not wrong, but definitely weird.

You just shake your head. “No, Thursdays I usually eat by myself, they go out somewhere.” You catch the look on Spencer’s face and amend yourself quickly. “They do invite me, I just prefer to eat my lunch at my desk, I can get a chapter or two in before they get back.”

Spencer looks down at the paperback in your hand again. “What’re you reading?”

You hold it up for him. It’s an older book, with frayed edges and a peeling vinyl cover, a grainy lighthouse on the front. He takes it when you offer it and flicks through it, careful not to disturb the bookmark. “I was gonna take it back to the library on Saturday and get a new one, but I can come over after that?”

Spencer shakes his head, only now just seeing the Los Angeles Public Library sticker on the back cover. “Can I come with you? Unless that’s like, something you wanna do by yourself or whatever? I didn’t know you went to the library.”

You take the book back and put it on your desk, out of the way. You and Spencer have wordlessly begun to split the wrap that you’d packed for lunch, something you’d made at home that made his mouth water. “Yeah, of course you can come. I go most weeks, I try to read a book every week but sometimes, y’know,” you gesture around the office.

That’s how Spencer finds himself on the steps of the LAPL for what he believes to be the first time. He’d been to libraries before, obviously, but not since leaving Florida, and not for a long time. He knows you like to read, there’s often a paperback in your hand or your purse or your car, it’s your quiet time activity. He just assumed you bought your own books, but getting to walk hand in hand with you through the stacks as you browse, he definitely sees the appeal. 

You find your new book of the week and hold it up to him gleefully, and you don’t even have to pull him along to the desk for him to follow you dutifully. Spencer would let you stay in there for hours, gazing lovingly over at you as you talk familiarly with the librarian. 

Eventually, you cut yourself off and excuse yourself to return to your boyfriend, knowing that his ideal weekend plans probably didn’t include letting you drag him around the library. You really like Spencer, you don’t want to hijack all of your time together. 

Spencer hasn’t even considered that. In fact, he is actively planning the next time that the two of you can come back, desperate to see you so happy again. Desperate to make you that happy. 

It becomes almost a routine. The two of you begin your weekend by going out for breakfast somewhere, Spencer follows you around the library and then the two of you go home and spend the rest of the day quietly in one of your apartments. Usually it involves him playing Zelda on the couch with your feet in his lap while you churn through your book.

You fold around each other comfortably. You have your separate friends, your separate jobs (well… technically separate), and your separate hobbies. But as the weeks turn into months, Spencer sinks right into your little oasis in your apartment. 

His clothes end up in your drawers, he starts going in to work with homemade meals that are obviously made by someone who graduated culinary school (i.e, not him). Love pours endlessly out of every crevice, and Spencer feels like he’s drowning in it. Spencer loves his apartment, it’s his home, but as somebody who also loves you he loves your apartment a lot as well.

It feels like every single time he goes over he finds out something new about you and the way you love, which is why he’s not quite so sure why it took him so long to notice the empty shelves in your room.

You’re on your phone, lying on your stomach with your feet by the head of the bed. Spencer is just coming back from the kitchen, your coffee order in his hand when he notices it. “Are you gonna put something on that shelf?”

You look up from your phone to see the shelf he’s gesturing to. Spencer can’t pretend not to notice the way that your face falls. “Uh, sure. I can if you want?”

Spence shrugs as he comes to sit down beside you. You wriggle up so you’re sitting and take the coffee out of his hand. “I don’t care, babe. It’s your room.” He plants a kiss on the side of your face and swiftly moves on. “I just remembered on Saturday I made plans with Kiana, so I’m gonna have to skip the library, I’m sorry.” He does seem genuinely sorry to be missing out on the time spent with you, you deflate subtly.

“That’s totally fine,” you return his kiss. “Tell her I say hi. I’m not done with my current one anyway, so I might just stay home.” You love the library, you spend a lot of time there, but you’re looking forward to a nice morning by yourself at home. Then, you remember the date and groan quietly under your breath. “Never mind, I have to go in to renew it anyway, or else I’ll get another late fee.”

You’d only ever returned a library book late once in your entire life, something that Spencer found completely adorable. Especially so the fact that you viewed it as such a big deal. 

“I guess that’s the price you pay for them being free,” Spencer points out. 

You hum, “I wouldn’t mind having one or two that I get to keep,” you say it so concretely, so nonchalantly. As though it’s not actually something you’re able to do.

“Why don’t you buy a couple?”

You glance over at the empty shelves. “‘Cause it’s like, childish?”

Spencer frowns, sitting up straighter. “Babe, do you think I’m childish?”

You rush to fix your mistake. “No! Of course not, that’s not at all what I meant-”

Spencer takes your hand, putting the empty coffee cup on your nightstand. It’s filled with his things and that makes his heart swell. “No, I know you weren’t calling me childish. But do you think I am?” When you shake your head, he continues. “I have like, video game bullshit all over my place. You’re not childish for having things that you like in your apartment. Plus, books are like the most normal out of all collectibles.” His eyes are deep and sincere and you roll your heels underneath you, moving so your legs are spread out in front of you. “You want books? Buy a million fucking books, babe.”

You sigh, biting your bottom lip. “I know, it’s… I used to have stuff on that shelf,” you admit. “I had a bunch of books, I’d been collecting some of them since I was a kid and everything. My last boyfriend he, well. Doesn’t matter, long story short, I came home from work one day and they were all gone.”

Spencer is probably the last guy you’d expect to see involved in a fistfight. He’s 5 '6, he loves Hawaiian shirts and there is video evidence of him Fortnite dancing. But more than that, though, he loves you, which is why his first instinct is to go find whoever it was that did that and fuck them up.

“That’s so messed up?” He can’t even wrap his head around it. “Babe, what? No, oh my god.” He can’t even formulate a coherent sentence. You love so liberally, so generously, that the idea that someone had thrown away something you love made him physically sick.

“I’m so sorry that he did that to you, that’s fucked. Not your fault you know how to read and he doesn’t.” That makes you laugh, your chest shaking as you lean into him. He wraps an arm around you and kisses your temple, rubbing your forearm gently. 

He and Kiana have plans on Saturday, and he has no intention of bailing on them, but that doesn’t stop him from pulling out his phone and texting her, asking if she’d be willing to make another stop with him while they were together.

The next Saturday, you get home from renewing your library book to find your boyfriend waiting out the front of your apartment. He beams at you as you reach him and you don’t have to look inside the box to know that once you stop kissing him you’ll find the beginnings of your next book collection. 

[marleyybluu]

Four and Counting

husband!Oscar Diaz x fem!black!reader

Word count: 4.4k (oops)

Warnings: everything is fluff, the cutest couple alive, another pregnancy, hints at abortion (but supportingly?), Oscar being the cutest fucking husband, self-indulgent asf cant lie like I want be in love like this

if i missed any lmk

AN: yall do not know how long this mf has been in my drafts omg I finally finished. This fic is just drowning in love. No smut 🤷🏾‍♀️. A bit rushed in certain places but it all fits pretty well in my opinion. this is not the end of the series but its like the end of the main chapters. there will be lore on the couple obvi, updates on the kids and the family as a whole bcus i am obsessed. hope yall enjoy.

You didn't know how it happened, you blinked and soon there were four. You had four kids running around your home filling it with innocent joy and laughter, and the occasional attitude. It was a full house and a busy life, but it could be enjoyable. You'd become a stay-at-home mom. At first, you weren't sure if you'd be able to manage, you loved your job a lot and worked extremely hard for it but with your growing family, your kids needed you more.

With Oscar opening a second restaurant you thought it'd be a good idea to bring up what's been gnawing away at you and he tells you that he's behind you no matter what path you choose. You put in your letter of resignation and bid your co-workers a teary-eyed farewell with promises to visit as much as they can. You had to admit it was a nice break, you didn't have to wake up as early, you weren't on your feet as much and the house was nice and quiet for a few hours when your children were either in school or at daycare. But then you had baby Rosie and your house had returned to a screaming, hollering mess.

She was a loud one and very expressive, babbled and cooed to anyone who would listen. "And then what happens after that?" You say laying next to her gently stroking her hair. She kicks her feet with excitement and responds in her usual baby language. "Oh my goodness." You respond. You could do this all day. You hated to admit it but you missed the baby stage so much and you were grateful for your little one. You'd been lounging around all day, only getting up to shower when she had fallen asleep and the occasional time when you needed to grab her bottle.

You pepper her chunky face in kisses and she squeals with happiness. "Que hermosa." You giggle. You two are so wrapped up in your world you don't even hear when the door unlocks and Oscar strolls in, he decides to check in on you since everything at the restaurant was going fine today. He notices the obvious vacancy of your presence downstairs and stumbles into the kitchen thinking you were feeding Rosie but he was wrong. He hears his baby's infamous noises from upstairs and smiles following the sweet noises. He creeps in on you two.

His head lolls to the side and rests on the door frame. He'd seen you like this many times (clearly) and it never got old. The way you lovingly interact with each child at any stage in their life, it was sweet to witness you give the same sweet eyes to Rafa at his big age as you did when he was a baby. Just a gentle reminder that he chose the right woman to marry, the best one to make a mother.

Rosie turns her little head and screams when her eyes land on her father. "Hola, mi corazoncito." He coos entering the room matching the same excitement as his baby which causes her to become even more riled up. He scoops her up and holds her in the air and all you can do is watch and grin like the Cheshire Cat. He brings her down and kisses her cheeks. "Cómo estás, mi mariposa?" He asks Rosie and she nuzzles her forehead in his cheek. Her nonverbal way of saying she missed him. Oscar takes his place next to you on the bed. "How are you, mama?"

You pucker your lips and he smiles dropping a kiss. You pout at how quick it was but quickly subsides when he gives you a forehead kiss. "I'm good. Sleepy. Hungry. Missing you."

"Missed you too, that's why I came home. And I brought some food from work."

You squinted. "Who cooked it?"

He chuckled. "Jason."

"Yes!" You fist pump. "Jason makes the best fucking food I swear."

Oscar's head seems to tilt even more, he's insulted by your statement but you smile sheepishly placing an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "Not as amazing as you do." He rolls his eyes and kisses your temple. Rosie babbles as her little reminder that she's still in the room. "No one forgot you chica" He affirms giving her some more smooches. "Let's go get mommy her food."

You sit up and stretch; some much-needed cracks are heard via your aching bones, and when your arms come down, you feel much looser and less tense than before. "It's okay, iré contigo." (I'll come with you.)

The three of you plop down the stairs and you part ways as Oscar heads to the kitchen while you shuffle to the living room and drop onto the couch, your lounging was short-lived when the doorbell rang. You huff getting back up on your feet. You swing the door open with a mean mug on your face until your eyes land on your mom and your features immediately soften.

"Hi, Mommy." You smile reaching out for her. "Hi sweetie, how are you?"

"I'm great," You pull her inside and close the door behind her. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on the rack nearby, her shoes slip off her feet and she places those next to Spooky's on the mat. "Came to visit, figured you'd need some... company..." She trails off and— not so subtly— stretches out her neck to see if she can spot the baby. "Mhm." You say crossing your arms, you call bullshit.

"She's in the kitchen with Spooky."

And just like that, your mother leaves you in her dust. You hear her high-pitched, "Hiiiii GG's babyyyyy, helloooo." And you can't help but smile. Your mom always seemed to become happier with each grandchild you produced.

You begin to feel left out when you hear all the commotion in the kitchen so you decide to join them. Your daughter has your mom's nose in her small fist while your mom blows raspberries in her little tummy, she erupts with laughter and you catch a glimpse of Oscar with nothing but heart eyes for his baby girl. You sneak over to him and slide your arms around his abdomen, he drops his arm over your shoulder and draws you close. He plants a kiss on your head. The microwave beeps behind you signalling that whatever was in there had finished heating up. Your eyes widen when the aroma of cheese hit your senses. "Is that lasagna?"

He nodded. "Yeah. He made a little dish for you, told him you've been craving it lately."

You squeal with excitement as you take the hot dish out of the microwave, you set it on the counter and danced over to the drawers in hot search for a fork, your successful in finding one and greedily stick it inside the soft noodles that were jam packed with delicious ingredients. You take one bite and practically faint at the taste.

"Just needs one more thing." You think out loud, you hustle over to the pantry and grab a bag of barbecue chips, you snag a handful and crack them in your hand, sprinkling them on top. Oscar stands there... confused.

"Girl, what the hell is that?" Your mom asks equally appalled.

You shrug and take another bite. "It's good though." You muffle with a full mouth.

"I love you." Oscar sighs and you laugh at his adoration for anything you do, you blow him a kiss before taking another bite. You don't see it but your mom has her eye on you with a very interesting theory brewing in her head. Your husband's phone rings and he excuses himself to answer it leaving you alone with your mom and Rosie, who is quiet and happy on her grandmother's chest, her little eyes slowly closing with sleep.

You try your best not to make too much noise while you reach for more-

"Are you pregnant again?"

You nearly choke on your saliva at the ridiculous question. You quickly shake your head. "No!? Are you nuts? I just had her and she is the last one." You assure but your mom isn't believing it. "This little concoction says otherwise."

You roll your eyes. "I just... like pasta and chips... together."

It did sound ridiculous.

"Since when?"

"Like... a month ago..."

She sucks her teeth. "Mi amor, I'm telling you, I think you're pregnant."

This was insane, this was an insane conversation to be having. You were one hundred percent sure there was nothing and no one in your belly-- just the mere thought of having two under two was giving you the heebie-jeebies. "I'm just saying-"

You groan like the irritated teenager you once were, "Ay Mama, no más charlas de bebé, por favor." (No more baby talk, please.)

She agrees to ease off the topic but it remains in the back of her mind.

-- --

Later that day after Oscar's gathered the others from school, you sneak out of the house to do some grocery shopping. It was a bit of time for yourself, a time when you didn't have to keep your eye on your tiny little humans. You go through the aisles for the essentials and when that's done you browse for treats and snacks for your kids (that you and Oscar will eventually munch on as well.)

You cautiously approach the next aisle that is stacked with condoms, contraceptives and pregnancy tests. You meant to move, your hands ready to push the cart forward but your feet are firmly planted on the floor. You sigh and turn in, quickly grabbing a box and dumping it in the cart as though it's not for you. "She better be fucking wrong." You mutter to yourself.

-- --

With all kids fed, bathed and in bed before twelve it allows you to have the bathroom to yourself for a while. You wedge the knuckle of your index finger between your two rows of teeth, you stare at the box and sigh. "Please prove her wrong." You whisper to no one in particular. You pop open the box and rip open the wrapping of the test. One original and one digital. You sit on the toilet and do what you've done a hundred times, you pee on the sticks and set them aside until the timer goes off.

You clean yourself up and wash your hands, you know better than to just stand there and watch the sticks waiting for that fate-sealing answer but you go against yourself and stare. You're in a trance until there's a knock at the door, it startled you and you clutch your non-existent pearls for dear life. "Que?"

Oscar asks, "You good? Didn't need company tonight?" He's referring to your commonly shared showers which, now that you think about it, is probably one of the reasons you're in this predicament again!

"No, it's not that. I'm just..."

You huff and unlock the door swinging it open with displeasure on your face, your arms crossed as you nod over to the tests on the counter. His eyes follow your actions and pop out when he sees them. "How-"

"Mom said it was weird that I ate the lasagna like that."

He chuckled. "Didn't want to say anything." 

You whine saying, "It's not funny, I just thought it was a change in my palette or something, I mix random foods all the time. I-" You searched for every excuse you could find. Oscar's face softens at the worry in your voice. "I just had Rosie." You sigh sounding depleted. You turn your back to the tests when you hear that all too familiar sound. You squeeze your eyes shut, if you don't look you won't know the answer and you can go about your merry way. Your husband offers to look for you and leans over. You hear the quietest gasp he's ever uttered and you know. You spin around to look at them yourself.

Positive. Both of them show positive.

You look up at Spooky and he's already looking at you waiting for your reaction so he can curate his own. "How do you feel about it?"

You shrug. You truly didn't know, you didn't even have words. Your throat was dry. You pick up one of them and look at it. And you feel nothing. Empty. Just waiting for a sense of gratitude to come across and for some reason, you can't seem to produce it. You put the test down and leave.

Spooky's still standing there with his heart in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he should've listened to you, that two was enough, and then three and four. He's after you, right on your heels as you enter your bedroom. You sit on the bed and fall back onto the sheets, you cover your eyes and shake your head at yourself and him. "I just had Rosie." You repeat to yourself. And then it happens. A tear slips and as quick as you are to wipe it, he knows you like the back of his hand— your breathing gets choppy and choked, you sniffle. The bed dips beside you and the sound of the sheets ruffling as he lays down.

"Háblame." (Talk to me)

You take a deep breath. You can be honest. "I don't know how I feel. I'm not sad but I'm not happy. I just hoped Rosie would be a little older. They all have good age gaps and- Oh god, what if they don't want another sibling? And Rosie and I spend so much time together, they just got used to her-- Emilia was so clingy when I had her, she felt so left out and-and-"

Oscar presses his hand over your thigh. "Cariño. Respirar. Por favor.

You breathe shakily. "It's okay not to know how to feel. If this is not what you want... I'm here for you, your moms here... the kids are here. We have more than enough, Sí?"

You nod. He reaches over and pulls you into him, you rest your forehead on his chest while he rubs smooth circles on your back. "We have some time for you to think about it right? It's your world mi amor, we're just living in it. I got you no matter what."

"Spooky."

"Mhm."

"Thank you."

He smiles and kisses your head. "It's my job baby."

— — You'd been hiding your belly from everyone, even the kids. It was easy for the most part because you only wore baggy clothes and they made you look a little large anyway but then there were not so subtle signs— like the heavy breathing from doing just about anything, and your walk? Oh, your walk was not normal no matter how hard you tried. So you decide to come clean to your kids and other close family during a little gathering that Spooky's brother, Cesar, was hosting. Cesar was the only person who knew and you two asked if it'd be okay to announce it tonight.

He was fine with it, excited actually.

Your hands shake. You were cautious in deciding on having this baby, it took you a while to feel anything. At first, it was uncertainty, did you want another? Would you be crushed if you didn't have it?

But as the weeks passed you couldn't help but fall in love with the growth, the bigger you got the giddier you became. Modelling in front of the mirror any chance you got, and when all the kids were asleep you'd talk to your belly and giggle with every shift they made.

"Listo?"  He asks and you nod confidently. Oscar whistles over to Cesar giving him a thumbs up. Cesar turns down the music to gather everyone's attention. "I just want to thank everyone for coming out, it's been a while since we've all been in one place, right?"

The crowd mumbles in agreement. "But it's great to see everyone in good health and good spirits—" He raises his Corona bottle and the crowd follows with their drinks (including the kids and their juice boxes) "Salud." He smiles.

"Salud." The crowd repeats. You clear your throat and enthusiastically say, "Oh let me see if I can get a picture. Everyone gets in."

They shuffle into one pile as best they can, you grab your phone and hold it landscape, you press record and say, "Alright everybody in... great, now saaaay... Y/n and Spooky are having another babyyyy!"

There were collective gasps, the word "what!?" Being thrown around in every language. "Excuse me!?" Your mom hollers. You unbutton your cardigan and turn to the side having worn a tight dress on purpose. "Surpriiiiiise." You sing out.

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!" Jasmine screams stretching her arms out for you, you gasp and playfully smack her hand. "Not in front of my kids, puta!"

She tells you to shut up and hug her, your mom joins in and soon the children and in that moment it hits how loved and supported you are by everyone around you. This was your village and it was a damn good one too.

Oscar's friends dap him up and congratulate him. They hug you as well and whisper that they hope it's another girl. They loved spoiling your daughters. Anything they asked for the boys were sure to buy it no problema.

"Well, actually," You begin to say. "We know what we're having."

Rafa, your oldest comes up to you. "Is it a boy?" His eyes gloss over with the hope that you would say yes, he'd been hoping that Emilia (your third) was going to be a boy but he lucked out. You had an idea. You hunch over to match his eye level. "You see that cake over there." You whisper and he nods. "Papi and I were going to cut it, but I think you should get the first slice."

He shrugs and you walk him over to the white cream frosted cake. You and Oscar help him hold the knife and carefully slide the blade into the spongey treat making one incision and you help him make another. He pushes the knife under to take the slice out and plops it on his plate, he reaches for a fork when he looks down to see the inside was blue.

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved with the understanding this was his moment. He looks up at you. "You're having a boy!?"

You nod with tears spilling over and ruining your makeup. "I am."

He puts the plate down and hugs you tightly and that's when the crowd goes wild. "Thank you, Mommy." He sobs which makes you cry even more. "Oh, you're welcome sweetie."

— — Nine months had sped past you and it seemed as if it was just yesterday that you found out you were pregnant. Now, you lay on a hospital bed, covered over by a few blankets to help with post-partum shivers, your jaw rattling and fingers dancing involuntarily. But that wasn't your main focus.

Oscar hovered over you staring at the sleeping newborn in your arms. He made the cutest noises while he nuzzled against your chest. Your finger ghosts over his nose and he reacts by moving his head and sighing. "Are you sick of me already, mi hijo?(my son)" You joke nudging him with your nose. "You get used to her." Oscar chimes in and you suck your teeth hitting him as hard as you could. "Cállate culo."(Shut up, ass)

"Hitting me in front of my son?"

"And I'll do it again."

He smiles and leans down to kiss you. "You know I like you a little feisty, mami."

You sigh, so in love with your new baby, in love with your husband— just filled with overpouring affection. You can't stop staring at your new son and your husband couldn't stop gazing at either of you. He'd been in this room over and over and he swore up and down you made it look so easy, that you looked like a goddess bringing new air and life into this world. Even though you thought you looked like a monster from the swamp.

Oscar tells you in a loving tone. "You're doing an amazing job, seriously, you... you're just amazing."

You blink rapidly to keep tears from spilling over. When you met this man he was so rough and tough, such a brute that it seemed impossible to get him to even admit that he liked you, but under all that fake-cold persona, was the gentlest giant and the biggest sweetheart you'd ever met—a man who spreads nothing but positivity around you and your children.

"I'm so happy, I met you." He mutters. You were his wife, the mother of his children and his best friend rolled into one and that's all he wanted out of this life. You look up at him with glossy eyes. "I'm happy I met you too."

You share a kiss as a tear slips out, you just can't hold them back any longer. He kisses your forehead as his thumb swipes over your cheek. Your attention is drawn back to your son when he begins wiggling in your hold, you press your nose against his hair taking a whiff of that fresh baby smell. As you soak in the presence of your child, your husband's phone buzzes against the fabric of the diaper bag, he looks over and your mom's name catches his attention. He looks to you for some sort of permission and your brows furrow together. "It's okay."

He rushes over to answer, and just then your nurse walks in with a smile on her face. "Just came to check on mommy and baby." She announces.

"Ok... yeah, I'll meet you guys downstairs... bye." Oscar hangs up and looks over at you. "Your parents are here, with the kids. I'll just be back okay?"

"Mhm." You hum. He gives you a quick kiss before he speeds out of the room. The nurse smirks as she helps you adjust yourself into a somewhat comfortable sitting position, asking you if you'd like your son to be put back in the bassinet to which you respond yes and she gently takes him. "I apologize if this is forward but... I've seen a lot of couples in here and let me tell you, I've never seen anything like you two. He is so attentive."

You giggle. "Thank you. I just got really lucky with him."

A few minutes had passed and she had finished her check-up letting you know that she'd be back in a bit for another check-in. Once she left that's when your family, quietly, barged in. Oscar approaches you first with a sleeping Rosie in his arms and you happily reach for her and coddle her in your arms. Rafael, Elliana and Emilia gently charged over to you, shuffling off their shoes and finding their places on the bed with you. You greeted them as best as you could, with restricted movement all you could do was reach for their faces. Your parents and Oscar stand in the background of it all observing you in your motherly nature and Oscar can't fight the grin that has been plastered on his face since the day he met you.

"Baby." Emilia chimes in drawing everyone's attention to her now. "Yeah, mira, mommy had the baby."

Rafael seemed enamoured by the presence of his new sibling. He loved his sisters, you knew that, but by the looks of it-- this would be a special bond. "Rafa, would you like to hold him first?" Oscar asks.

He nodded eagerly and readied himself by sitting up straight and folding his arms. Oscar removes your son from his bassinet and carefully places him in Rafa's arms. The baby was a bit squirmy, upset that he'd been disturbed but with the soothing 'shhhh' from his mother's lips he settled down. Your two girls surround their brothers with curiosity.

Emilia giggles. "Hi, cutie."

"He's so tiny," Eliana mutters. Your parents finally make their way over to you after letting you have your moment with the kids. They congratulate you and your dad holds up a Chipotle bag and you beamed. "Thank you, this hospital food sucks." You whisper.

They attempted to take Rosie from you but you assured them it was fine, having missed her snuggles anyway. "Want me to feed you?" Your husband asks and you snicker shaking your head. "Está bien papito, I'll eat when I'm ready. But thank you."

— — After all the kids had their turn holding the baby their attention spans had turned to you and their father, telling you everything that had happened since you left the house.

"And then Ellie licked the cookie and put it back in my bowl," Rafa whines and you hold back a laugh. "Eliana you do not do that, that's gross."

She shrugs and nuzzles closer to her grandfather on the couch who is causing a ruckus with all his snoring. Your mom nudges him awake and he hits his famous line, "I'm not sleeping, I just closed my eyes."

"Think it's time for us to go." Your mom says. "Um.." Rafa chimes. "Is it okay if I stay?"

"I- yeah, I guess so." You answer. Oscar says that you'll keep Rosie since she has now found a new sleep space in his arms. Your mom carries a sleeping Emilia and your dad carries Eliana on his back. They say their goodbyes and are out the door.

— —

The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Rafael had fallen asleep on the couch while Rosie, who'd only woken up to ear and fell back into slumber, lay under her older brother's arm. You sigh contently as you gaze at them.

"Did you ever think when we met at that laundromat, that we'd be here?" Oscar mumbled as he held your baby boy, tracing his finger along his little nose. You turn to him. You shrug.

"Maybe with one kid... two.... But not five." You joked. He chuckled.

"Did you?"

He nods. "I knew you were gonna be my girl from the moment I picked up that sexy red bra you dropped-"

"Spookyyyy." You gasped gently hitting his arm.

He laughs. "Que? Man, once I saw those cups I started barking."

"You are so fucking stupid."

He shrugs. "I know. But I'm stupid in love with you."

You playfully rolled your eyes at his corny, yet sweet, line.

"I'm stupid in love with you too."

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic. comments and reblogs are appreciated. hopefully, I'll be back a whole lot sooner. peace and love

tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb @librarian1002

Who might be interested: @miyahmaraj @bigenergy777 @educatorsareslutstoo @missdforever

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter One

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This whole story will deal with dark and smutty themes. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.4k

A/N : The full first chapter. For anyone that missed the first sneak peak, this is going to be a vampire fic, so it's going to have smut, dark themes, and blood mentions. I've been reading a lot of gothic novels lately so there's a bit of inspo from that in here. Anyway, hope you enjoy this one!

Chapter One

It was official; you'd lost your fucking mind.

You’d been standing outside the building for five minutes now, the paperwork tucked in your coat pocket feeling heavier by the second. Were you sure that you wanted to do this? Could you really give up a year of your life to serve a vampire?

What other choice did you have?

A lithe and pale figure watched from behind the tinted, UV proof glass while you changed your mind a dozen times over. After a few more minutes, the sun finally disappeared into the New York skyline, plunging the street into shadow.

The door opened.

The figure called your name, and you stepped forward, almost mesmerised by the lilting, lyrical tone of her voice. You shook your head a little, trying to keep your wits about you. 

You took in the sight of her as she held open the door; taller than you with a willowy figure, long white hair down to her hips, and eyes of pale blue that seemed to look right through you. You’d seen enough vampires to tell one by sight.

Your small suitcase was clutched in your hand, the few possessions that meant anything to you had been hastily packed before you’d headed to New York, and now felt like all you had left in the world. She glanced at the suitcase with disdain, but said nothing.

“Do you have the paperwork?” She asked, the soft but icy sound of her voice sending a shiver up your spine. You nodded and she held out her hand expectantly, waiting while you fished the folded mess of documents from your coat. She gave the contract a cursory glance, making sure you’d signed every dotted line, before; “good. And are you sure you understand everything that this position entails and what will be required of you?”

You nodded again.

“Speak up,” she prompted. “This is your last chance to ask questions.”

Despite the impatience on her face, you took a moment. Only minutes ago you’d had at least half a dozen questions about the job and the mysterious vampire who had hired you.

“What happened to the last person who took this job?” Her eyebrow rose, obviously not expecting that question. “The contract is for a year, but I’ve seen this job advertised three times in the last ten months.”

“There are a lot of people who mistakenly believe that they can do what is required of them. Many have come to work for Mr Russo, and many have disappointed him,” she shrugged.

“What happened to them?”

“The same thing that will happen to you if you breach your contract; immediate dismissal with no severance,” she explained, slowly starting to step towards the elevator. “During your time here, everything will be provided for you and you will only be paid once your term of service is completed.”

“A million dollars,” even though that was the amount in black and white on the contract, it still didn’t seem real to you.

“Yes,” she pressed the call button, putting an obvious timer on this conversation. “Like I said, this is your last chance to ask questions. Once I take you upstairs, your contract will officially begin, and you will forfeit the agreed upon rights.” 

You swallowed the lump that had risen in your throat and nodded, knowing you had no choice. You needed the money and a year wasn’t that long if you really thought about it. 

The elevator doors slid open and you took one last deep breath before stepping inside.

“What floor are we going to?” You asked, not wanting to stand in silence.

“The penthouse,” she answered, allowing another moment of quiet before adding; “you’ll find that Mr Russo has been more than generous with your living quarters, far more generous than most.”

“Do a lot of vampires do this? Hire people to feed from, I mean?” 

“For those that can afford it, or those with particular... tastes, it’s quite common, yes,” she replied offhandedly, not even bothering to look at you, knowing that it didn’t matter anymore; it was too late for you to change your mind.

“And which is Mr Russo?” You dared to ask, which was enough to earn a glance from her.

“Both,” she answered coldly, “as you no doubt saw in the advertisement, Mr Russo is very particular, and you’d do well to remember that. He is a man who likes everything in its place.”

Your lips parted, more comments and questions about your mysterious employer on your tongue, but they were cut off by the opening of the elevator doors. She led you out into the penthouse; a large open-plan living and kitchen area, with an open fireplace and wrap-around sofa, decorated in dark colours and dark-stained wood.

“Leave your suitcase there,” she instructed. “You won’t need it.”

You did as you were told, speechless as you took in the huge space in front of you. The windows drew your attention; tinted and obviously UV proof, but spanning from floor to ceiling, giving an amazing view of Central Park.

“This is the main area of the penthouse,” she started, as if she was a tour guide, reeling off facts that she no longer found interesting. “You may use this area as you see fit during daylight hours, but between 9pm and 6am it is off-limits. You will clean up after yourself.”

You nodded, following her as she slowly started towards the kitchen, leaving your suitcase at the elevator.

“All food will be provided, and should not be left in this kitchen area. You have your own private kitchen in your quarters. As per your contract, you will keep to the list of acceptable foods, and will receive grocery deliveries once a week on Fridays.” She stopped for a moment, letting you get a look at the main kitchen.

While there didn’t seem to be much in the way of food in the main kitchen, there was a large wine rack, filled with bottles. But it was the small glass-fronted refrigerator that caught your attention. That was where he would keep your blood. Suddenly it all started to feel very real to you.

If your guide cared, she didn’t bother to show it. She started to move again, and you followed after.

“Behind that door,” she pointed, “are Mr Russo’s rooms. You are forbidden from entering. Any breach of that rule will result in your immediate dismissal.”

You nodded, eyes lingering on the door, wondering if he was behind it right now, if he was listening in to everything being said. The thought caused your heart to beat a little faster and, that, you were certain she did notice. She led you away, towards the other end of the apartment.

“Through that door is Mr Russo’s library, you may use it as you see fit during daylight hours,” she didn’t linger or allow you to look inside, so you decided that was the first place you would explore once you were alone.

“And this,” she pushed a door open, “is your private suite.”

The door led to a small corridor with three doors. You continued to follow her. 

“Your kitchen,” she pushed open the first door and let you glance inside before moving to the door on the opposite side of the hallway, “your bathroom.” Again, she only gave you a second before moving to the door at the end of the hallway. “And this is your bedroom. For your privacy, the door can be locked. Though once you’ve slept here, no vampire will be able to enter without permission.” 

You were almost speechless as you stepped into the room, immediately noticing the floor to ceiling windows that wrapped around the corner of the room, giving you amazing views of Central Park and the city. The room contained a large bed, a sofa and TV, as well as a small gym area in the corner. There was a wardrobe, the doors of which had been strategically left open so you could see that it had already been filled with clothes for you. Beyond that, there was a desk and several mirrors, and everything was decorated with the same dark palette as the rest of the penthouse. 

“As per your contract, you are expected to remain clean and healthy at all times,” she continued while you slowly stepped around the room, cautiously running your fingers over the desk and opening drawers. “Mr Russo requires that you shower at least once every day and that you wear only the clothes provided. If the clothes provided are not to your tastes, reasonable adjustments to the wardrobe can be made.”

You opened a drawer and felt heat rise in your cheeks when you realised that it was filled with silk and lace lingerie sets. Closing the drawer, you decided to look elsewhere, moving towards the nightstand. There was a silk sleep mask beside the lamp, with your initials sewn into the fabric.

“You will not leave the penthouse without permission. Any attempt to do so will result in your immediate dismissal,” again, on paper, it had sounded easy but now you weren’t so sure. “Part of remaining clean for Mr Russo means that you will forgo sex for the duration of your contract, and you will not allow anyone to touch you in a sexual way. However, Mr Russo understands that this can be... difficult for someone your age, so he has provided everything you need to keep yourself... satisfied.”

Your confused glance was met by a raised eyebrow and the slightest dip of her head, indicating the drawer which, stupidly, you opened without hesitation.

“Oh...” you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting but a drawer full of sex toys certainly wasn’t it. Your cheeks got hotter and your heart raced in your chest.

“I would suggest getting that under control, your embarrassment is quite distracting to vampires,” she stated before leaving the room. You quickly pushed the drawer of toys closed and followed after her. 

She led you into the kitchen, a clean and sterile looking room with everything you’d ever need to cook for yourself. Waving at the only chair at the small table, she instructed you to sit, take your coat off and roll up your sleeve.

“For the first week, I will assist you in drawing blood and showing you how to store it, after that it will become your responsibility. You will do this at least once a day, and it is your job to ensure that Mr Russo never goes without,” she explained, opening a drawer and removing what she needed.

You felt queasy the moment the needle punctured the skin, and you were sure she scoffed when you looked away from the sight of blood. Clearly, she didn’t think you were going to last in your new job.

“While your contract is in effect, Mr Russo is the only vampire who may drink your blood,” she continued to list rules and stipulations. 

“And he’ll only drink it like this? He won’t -” you hesitated, trying to decide if the question could be seen as offensive to a vampire.

“It is, legally speaking, entirely up to you whether or not you would allow Mr Russo to feed from you directly,” which, of course was something you knew - since vampires revealed themselves to the world, lots of safe-measures had been put in place to protect humans from being involuntarily fed upon. “However, Mr Russo prefers to feed this way, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”

After almost ten minutes she pulled the needle from your arm and began to explain how to seal the blood before handing you a bottle of supplements and a glass of water. 

“Take one of those every day after bleeding, they will help your body replace what you’ve given.” She watched as you took one of the supplements without questions and then led you back out into the main area of the apartment, showing you how the blood was to be stored in the fridge, with the day's date clearly marked on the jar.

“Now, you should go shower and change into the clothes provided. I can either dispose of what you’re wearing or it can be placed in storage with your other things until your contract is complete.”

“Wait - storage?” You asked, your heart skipping a beat.

“As per your contract, everything is provided -”

“I get that, but... you’re saying I can’t keep my things? What about my phone?” Sure, you’d read the contract, but you’d never realised that that was what it meant.

“Mr Russo is a very private man, your phone or other electronic devices would be a security risk,” she answered sharply. “If you wish to terminate your contract -”

“No - no, it’s fine. As long as they’re kept safe.” As much as you hated it, you knew the alternative was worse. No, you could live without your phone and laptop for a year if it meant earning a million dollars, if it meant finally being free.

Without hesitation, you removed your phone from your pocket and handed it to her. She seemed almost amused that it was already turned off, and quickly slid it into her own pocket.

She nodded and started to walk away. “Leave anything you want put into storage by the elevator.”

It was then that you realised that she was about to leave you all alone and you’d have no more chances to ask her questions.

“When will I meet Mr Russo?” You asked as she pressed the call button.

“That depends on Mr Russo,” she shrugged, “you may never meet him if he doesn’t wish it. He’ll decide when he returns to New York tomorrow. For now, I’d suggest you spend your time getting comfortable. A year is a long time for warmbloods...”

The elevator doors slid open and she carried your suitcase inside.

“I’ll be back after sunset tomorrow to draw more blood.”

It wasn’t until she was gone that you realised you’d never even gotten her name.

Alone, you remained in the kitchen for a few minutes, half expecting her to come back to explain more rules but, when she didn’t, you decided to explore.

It felt strange and you didn’t dare touch anything, practically creeping around the apartment, even though you were fairly certain that you were all alone now. You got yourself familiar with the main living area, taking a moment to enjoy the view from the windows before heading for the door that led to Mr Russo’s library.

Whatever thoughts you had about it, you weren’t expecting what you found behind that door. The book cases covered two of the walls and, in the corner of the room sat a grand piano. There was a worn looking leather sofa and, towards the back of the room, you realised that there was a set of shelves filled with vinyl records. Suddenly, being stuck in this apartment for a whole year didn’t seem like enough time. 

There was a strange mix of old and new about the room, things that made you wonder about the sort of person your new employer was. How old was he? How long had he been a vampire? 

You decided that you were definitely going to spend a lot of time in the library but, for tonight, you settled on taking a battered looking copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray from a shelf, hoping that no one would mind if you took it back to your room.

While it wasn’t getting late, it had been a long day and you were still feeling a little shaky, so you decided to do as instructed and have a shower before changing into one of the silken pairs of pyjamas that had been provided. Once you’d neatly folded and piled your old clothes by the elevator, you returned to your bedroom.

Paranoia had you checking around the room, beneath the bed and in the wardrobe, before you finally felt safe enough to lock yourself in. While it had been your plan to read until you fell asleep, you were too distracted by thoughts of home; had anyone noticed that you were gone yet? Were they looking for you? Had they been trying to call?

The only thing that you knew for certain was that no one would find you here. And, once you’d completed your year and had your million dollars, no one would find you ever again.

The next morning you realised why you’d been provided a sleep mask; as stunning as the floor to ceiling windows were, the moment the sun rose your room was filled with light. Grumbling, your hand reached for your phone on the night stand before you remembered exactly where you were and that you no longer had your phone.

There was a clock in the kitchen, on the wall above the small table where you sat and had breakfast, telling you that it was far too early to be awake. 

After breakfast you showered and decided to spend the day getting used to your surroundings, starting with the bedroom. 

The contents of the wardrobe left you speechless. Even the leggings and jeans were expensive brands, and some of the ball gowns... honestly, you didn’t even know why they were in there, but you’d spent enough time attending balls and gala’s back home to know that each was easily worth tens of thousands of dollars. Some of the garments felt a little more questionable; corsets and dresses that would probably reveal far more than you were comfortable with.

And the shoes.

You’d never seen so many pairs of shoes. Everything ranging from cute sneakers, to thigh-high boots with heels so big you’d break your neck if you fell over in them. Every kind of shoe for every sort of occasion, and they were all stunning.

Then, in the drawers, you had your more everyday items; underwear, tee-shirts, leggings. And, again, it seemed like no expense had been spared. Admittedly when you finally changed out of the pyjamas, it felt a little bit weird to put on underwear that you hadn’t bought for yourself, and weirder still to think about how soft the lace felt on your skin.

You picked out a pair of jeggings, an oversized sweater and a pair of Uggs to wear before continuing to search through your room. There was everything you could think that you might want or need, with the exception of a laptop or phone. (And you were very mindful about ignoring the drawer of sex toys, not even wanting to think about it.)

It took you almost the whole day to get through it all and find where everything was. Once you were done, you decided to cook dinner; a simple pasta in sauce with some bread. You hadn’t even stepped out of your suite and into the main apartment, you’d almost managed to forget that anything existed outside of your bubble until the sudden knock on the suite's door. 

You opened the door to find her standing there, remembering she had promised to return at sunset.

“Have you found everything to your liking so far?” She asked as she stepped past you and made her way into the kitchen. 

“Everything is fine,” you told her, following after. “I did have a few... questions about some things?”

She indicated that you take a seat and moved to the cupboard that contains the equipment for drawing blood. You rolled up your sleeve without being asked.

“Yes?” She prompted.

“In the wardrobe, there are ball gowns?” More statement than question and she looked at you with a raised eyebrow until you clarified; “why?”

“Mr Russo occasionally likes to host parties or attend events in the city,” she answered, piercing your skin with the needle. “If he decides he enjoys your company, he may ask you to attend with him.”

“Oh,” you decided not to ask the ridiculous follow up and instead change direction completely. “And, while I’m here I’m not allowed a phone or the internet?”

“As I told you yesterday, Mr Russo is a very private man. If you wish to contact loved ones, I can -”

“No, it’s fine,” you quickly cut her off. “What if there’s... I don’t know, an emergency? Or something I need?”

For a second she paused, the slightest look of realisation on her face, as if she’d just remembered something. 

“By the elevator, there’s an intercom. You can use it to contact me or, if I’m not available, you can contact the doorman.”

Which, of course, brought you to the next awkward question.

“... you never told me your name.”

“Lissa,” she quickly responded, off-handedly, almost dismissively, like she thought you’d never need it. 

Once she was finished drawing blood, you followed her out into the main area of the penthouse and over to the fridge where, to your surprise, yesterday’s blood was gone.

“Is -” you started to ask, glancing towards that foreboding door that was off-limits to you, “- is Mr Russo here?”

“He’s back in the city, yes.” 

You took that to mean that he wasn’t in, so you decided not to ask any more questions - what had she told you yesterday? That he’d decide whether he wanted to meet you when he got back. Well, he was back now and, obviously, he didn’t.

Lissa asked if you needed anything desperately and you told her you didn’t; she didn’t exactly make it seem like she was interested, more that she felt obligated.

The next few days passed in much the same way; you’d spend your afternoons exploring the penthouse, trying to get some idea of what Mr Russo was like. Then Lissa would help you draw blood and, by the end of the first week, you no longer needed her assistance. Every morning you checked the fridge and found it empty. He was there, in the penthouse. But, as the days passed, you started to think you’d never cross paths and maybe that was by design.

Maybe that was for the best, maybe it would be easier to get through the year without meeting him. You could just pretend that the penthouse was yours.

But it seemed like a lonely way to live, especially once Lissa no longer had a reason to visit. You weren’t used to space or privacy, not like this. You took to muttering to yourself, moving from room to room of the penthouse just to get a little bit of variety in your life.

The first day you were completely left alone, you decided to start the morning with a run on the treadmill. It was raining outside but you tried to picture what it would be like to run through the winding paths of Central Park, all the way to the fountain. Then, after showering, you rummaged through the cupboards in the kitchen to find all the ingredients you needed to make chocolate muffins.

By the time the sun started to set, you were quietly impressed with how well you’d managed to distract yourself. But it was only one day, and you had over three-hundred and fifty more to fill. You made yourself some dinner, drew some blood and took it out to the fridge for Mr Russo, whenever he decided to get it.

Then, you ended up on the sofa.

Initially you’d only wanted to sit down for a few minutes, feeling tired and a little bit unsteady after putting today’s blood in the fridge. You had a feeling that you might have drawn a little too much, and you found your eyes drifting shut. 

The alarm on your watch woke you, set to remind you every night when it was approaching 9pm so you could retire to your suite, as per the rules. You felt groggy as your eyes opened, taking a second to sharpen.

And there he was, sitting on the opposite side of the wrap-around sofa, a glass in his hand, dark eyes set on you.

You sat up quickly - so quickly that it made you feel dizzy.

Your cheeks warmed, though you weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment or nausea.

If he cared about your display of discomfort, he certainly didn’t show it. In fact, for a moment you were sure you saw a flicker of a smirk cross his lips. For a second you found yourself staring, taking in the sight of him; dark suit, dark hair, and even darker eyes. He was stunning, even by vampire standards.

“I’m sorry, I -” you started, flustered. You didn’t even know what you were apologising for. It wasn’t like you’d broken any of his rules.

“So you’re the new one,” his voice didn’t sound like you thought it would. For the look of him, you’d imagined a smooth but commanding tone, instead there was something rough to it.

“Yes, sir,” you answered, quickly introducing yourself to him rather than addressing what exactly he meant by the new one.

“Drink that,” he instructed and you noticed the glass of orange juice on the table. “It’ll help with the blood loss.”

Your cheeks warmed a fraction, embarrassed that he’d figured out why you were sleeping on the sofa. (Just how long had he been sitting watching you sleep, anyway?)

You gave a muttered thank you before reaching for the glass and slowly starting to drink. You’d forgotten to take your supplement too and that probably wasn’t helping.

“So, what are you running from?”

“I'm sorry?” You asked, not understanding the question. 

“You've agreed to spend a year living in the home of a man you've never met - a vampire, no less - so, what are you running from?” He looked at you as if he could look through you, as if he expect a lie and he’d be able to catch you in it

“I’m not running,” you answered, forcing yourself to sit a little straighter, despite the light-headedness. “I just didn’t want to be at home anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Does it matter?” You answered flippantly before realising that that wasn’t the best way to talk to your new employer. “I mean - I already signed all of your contracts, so does it make a difference?”

“It does if I end up with your parents at the door screaming about how I spirited away their daughter and have her under my thrall so I can drain her blood.”

“Has - has that happened before?” There was something about his face, his eyes, it made it impossible to tell if he was joking or being serious. “Things like this are legal, so it’s not like they could complain...”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

It was only then that you realised what was in his glass, the dark viscous liquid he was gently swirling. He was sitting and having this conversation with you while cradling a glass of your blood.

“I’m not avoiding it,” you decided to tell him, “I just don’t want to answer it. I appreciate how this could look to some people, but I can promise you my family won’t be an issue. They don’t even know that I’m here and they have no way of finding me.”

“So, not running, escaping,” he stated like he didn’t want a response and already knew he was going to get one. And, finally, he lifted his glass and took a slow drink..

You didn’t want to watch him drink, but you found that you couldn’t tear your eyes away, watching the gentle bob of his throat and the way he licked his lips after draining half the glass. When he caught you looking, you dropped your attention to your own glass and took a slow drink.

“I’m not your first am I?” 

Sputtering, you almost choked on your drink and, for some reason, your mind immediately went to the drawer of toys in your bedroom. Your cheeks continued to warm as the corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk.

“My first what?”

“Vampire.”

“No. I mean, I’ve never -” you took a second, trying to regain your composure. “I’ve met other vampires, I’ve just never let them...”

He lifted the glass and cocked an eyebrow before taking a drink. This time when he drank, you let him see you watching, feeling your heart stutter in your chest. Again, his tongue wiped away any trace of your blood from his lips and he looked oddly satisfied.

“Do you like it here? Are you settling in?” He asked, and you were starting to realise he was trying to get a measure of you. “Are your rooms to your liking?”

“Yes, you have a lovely home,” you answered before taking an awkward drink. You weren’t sure what else to say about it because, outside of the library, there wasn’t much to the penthouse. In fact, once you started thinking about it, you couldn’t help but realise that it seemed a little cold and lonely. But, perhaps it was different in his rooms, perhaps that was where he’d made his penthouse into a home.

“You like the library,” a statement more than a question.

“Yes, I - how did you know?” Had he been spying on you? Watching you?

“My copy of Dorian Gray,” he stated softly, and you felt your breath catch, “it doesn’t seem to be where I left it.”

“It’s in my room,” you answered, worried that you might have already done something wrong - you couldn’t afford to lose this job, not after only a week. “No one told me that I couldn’t take it out of the library, I just wanted something to read in bed and I -”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, doing a poor job of hiding his amusement. “You can take as many books from the library as you want, as long as they’re returned undamaged.”

It seemed to mean a lot to him and, perhaps, you should have asked why but, instead, you found yourself feeling indignant.

“I’d never damage a book,” you told him, “especially one that didn’t belong to me.”

Again, he seemed more amused than fazed by your response. “So, you like to read?”

You nodded.

“Why?” His eyes stayed on you, staring through you, right to your soul. At least, that was how it felt. Your lips parted, but you didn’t have an answer for him. Why did anyone like to read? “Escapism? Perhaps to imagine a better life? Or is it love and fantasies of fictional men who will treat you better than anyone in the real world that you enjoy?”

“Is that why you have all those books? To fantasise about fictional men?” you found yourself responding, trying desperately to ignore the heat burning through your cheeks.

He let out a laugh, a deep and dark sound that sent a shiver up your spine. The smirk on his lips grew and, for a moment, he just watched you before shrugging.

“Sometimes men, sometimes women,” he admitted with ease, lifting his glass and draining it, leaving nothing but a pinkish stain on the inside of the glass. “I like you,” he decided and you weren’t sure if he meant you or your blood. “This is going to be fun.”

With that, he got to his feet and all you could do was watch, getting some idea of his height and how he held himself once he was standing. He moved with the confidence of a predator who knew his own strength even if others couldn’t see it, and you knew immediately that you shouldn’t underestimate him.

“You should return to your rooms,” he told you, turning and heading for the kitchen to get rid of his empty glass. “I wouldn’t want Lissa finding out that you’ve already broken your contract.”

For a second you weren’t sure what he meant, but then you saw the time. Twenty past nine. He’d kept you talking for almost half an hour. (Could he really fire you for that when he was the reason?)

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise the time, I -” you got to your feet so quickly that you almost fell back down

“I’m joking,” it hadn’t sounded like a joke. He glanced back towards you, offering something of a smile. “You should go back to your rooms and rest, though. And tomorrow, take more care when you’re drawing blood. I wouldn’t want you fainting.”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer before moving towards the elevator and slipping inside once the doors opened.

For a few seconds, you stood, at a loss over what had just happened, before quickly making your way back to your own rooms.

CHAPTER TWO

End Notes : Sooo... there it is. I honestly hate starting new fics because I always feel like they start a little slow. I'm not sure what the posting schedule will look like for this one, I'm hoping once a week (on Friday evenings) but I'll post an update or something if that changes.

Thanks for checking this out, I know it's a bit of a departure from Catch Me if You Can. Have a wonderful weekend.

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

[chxrrydrxp]

ok so i'm so in with your theme rn and i loved your after car with jason drabble but what i really came here to say imagine poor jason todd realizes he's in love in dick's girlfriend. he doesn't say anything but he knows he can treat you better and be better for you. he knows dick cares about you but he's bad for you because he'll never fully love you but believes he can. so he watches you from afar, trying to sweet in small ways like helping fixing your car and stuff. he watches you and dick fight, break up and of course make up till the point he's fed up of watching dick play you because he's knows dicks cheating and he knows dick isn't trying to hurt you but its not fair. poor jason he doesn't want to be a rebound he just wants to give you the love you deserve.

I'm really about to break jasons pretty heart and staple it back together with this fic. apologies for the wait! I got too excited and decided to write a series about it 🥹

I'll release it chapter by chapter 🤭 and you're a genius I love ur brain 🧠

and fr dick damn near slept with every dc character that man is a whore. I'm still tryna figure out what excuse imma give him for why he is a serial man whore

all jokes aside, I'm gonna have some much fun with this.

𝒻ℴ𝓇𝒷𝒾𝒹𝒹ℯ𝓃 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉

Jason Todd x (Dick's Ex! Fem!) Reader:

chapter 1

chapter 2

warnings: this series will get heated eventually, and I'll just put a warning on those specified chapters.

this might be a long series, depends how much yall want it 🤭

Loud rain poured against Jason's window. He laid against his dark wood bed frame while reading a book. As he flicked through thin pages, the sound of you and Dick arguing could be heard from across the hall.

He wasn't exactly trying to eavesdrop, but he could make out certain sentences like “why's her name still..’. He sighed, growing more and more tired of the constant back and forth between you two. The conversation slowly moved from the room into the hall, and the argument could almost be heard throughout the whole manor.

“Dick, I cannot do this anymore. I'm tired. I'm tired of being confused about your feelings for me!” He could then hear Dick's annoyingly condescending voice. Another tired sigh escaped Jason's lips as he ran his fingers tiredly through his dark strands. He rolled off the bed, put on a loose white tee, and slipped on black house shoes.

Pulling the door back, he wasn't even noticed by the two of you until his deep voice rumbled through the hall. Even as a quiet, “The hells’ all the commotion, I'm tryna read damn it”, his voice caught your attention. You felt slightly embarrassed. But the anger just wouldn't let up. “Sorry Jason, just go back to your room,” Dick pleaded, leaning against the wall with a frown. Jason rolled his eyes at Dick's continuous attempts to sound like an older brother, and his eyes flickered to yours.

Noticing your red eyes and a tear of anger falling down your cheeks, his jaw relaxed and he almost looked concerned. “You alright?” His soft voice coaxed you out of your bubbling fit of anger. “Yeah...I'm okay…I'm just gonna go home..” Your eyes stuck back to the floor and then you walked away, leaving the two brothers alone. Dick began to walk away, only stopping in his tracks at the mention of his name.

“Dick…you can't keep doin' this man-” Dick spun around shooting a cold glare at him. “Doing what? You think I want to hurt her?” Jason's eyebrows furrowed. “You're not doing a good job of proving me wrong.” Dick walked away.

You dropped your keys on your marble console table, falling onto the couch with a sigh. You knew he wasn't right for you. This cycle of toxicity would go on and on forever unless you stuck your foot in the ground. The repeating doubts about your relationship circled your mind almost daily. You and Dick had been together since late middle school days. You went everywhere with each other and attended every dance together. You were both practically attached at the hip. You had everything in common and could get lost in various topics for hours.

But, that connection had seemed so far away. So long ago. Like a distant memory. The romance in the relationship felt like it was fading, but neither of you was ready to let it go. And it puts a strain on your relationship, even without romance.

You curled up on the soft sofa, bringing your knees to your chest and feeling stinging tears well in your eyes. You knew it was bad for you. God that's all you ever thought about. But it hurt too much to even consider ending things. He was so familiar.

You don't know how much time has passed by of you being stuck in a constant loop of repetitive thoughts, but a knock on your door shook you out of your trance.

“y/n? It's Jason, can I come in?” You quickly wiped your eyes with your shirt and straightened yourself out. “Be right there!” You cringed at that obvious wavering of your voice. You reached the door, opening it slightly so he could only see your upper half. Your head was leaned downward as a half-assed attempt to hide your tear-stained face. “Hey,” was all he said, with a faint sheepish smile. You lazily nodded at him. “Need something?” You'd hoped you didn't sound angry at him. “Well, I came here to ask you the same thing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, a familiar habit of his. “Come in.”

(yall I cannot think of a title omg)

[offside-the-lines]

MattDrai Fic Recs

So @irrelevanttous and @puckthisshift sent me the ask meme prompt for "what my favorite Mattdrai fic is" and I went on a JOURNEY lemme tell ya. I ended up figuring out how to download my AO3 history (in which I discovered that in the last year, I've read like literally 50% of all the MattDrai fics ever written) to help me figure out what my faves were. So here are some (most? I hope?), split into categories.

General Faves:

head above water by yourblues (@msmargaretmurry) 🔒 (E, 91.1k) This might be one of the best pieces of RPF ever written; it's a classic. I have visited this fic literally 21 times. It has everything: stupidity, pining, incredible sex, falling for each other, also more stupidity. Chapter 6 literally rips my entire soul out every time. I think this fic permanently altered my brain chemistry. It's a perennial re-read.

only fools rush in by @bropunzeling 🔒 (E, 94.9k) This is another fic that is a Must Read for HRPF as a whole. The entire time, I just want to reach through the screen and wring both of their necks for being so incredibly dense. And I love everything about this, especially just the way it's written is so incredible.

Growing Into Someone by @blaahaj 🔒 (E, 46.5k) God, I love this fic so much, I come back to it all the time. I think this must've been one of the first Mattdrai works I read. But I just love how natural the initial tension is, and how inevitable their falling in love is, and how the climax happens and resolves is just so incredible.

Undo Falling for You by crookedsilence (@csblogs) 🔒 (T, 16.1k) This is an AU I guess? I put it in this section because it's Hanahaki, so like only kinda AU. Either way, I am obsessed with this! It is just emotionally perfect. Highly recommend.

rough dream? by reticent 🔒 (M, 7.2k) So, this fic is probably the most "out there" suggestion because of the warning (I'll get to that part) but this fic is literally the most perfect microcosm of what Mattdrai fics tend to have: pining, lack of communication, falling in love while being terrified of falling in love, etc. This is a time loop fic where Matthew is stuck in the time loop but it's told from the perspective of Leon. It is absolutely incredible. I think about this fic ALL THE TIME. The warning is for a suicide, but no "actual" character death because the time loop resets.

i'll tell you when to stop by dogjuice 🔒 (E, 39.6k) (McMattDrai) This is the real answer to 'what fic do you send people if they want to get into MattDrai'. I have sent this to so many people because it is perfect. Everything about this is perfect. Matthew's internal dialogue and his anxiety, and his perception of what's happening. The second half of the fic is so well-written and suspenseful. Something I feel it will give me a heart attack even though I've read it like 10 times.

Future Fics

Saving the Best for Last by @puckingtrash 🔒 (E, 100.1k) This is the fic that made me obsessed with Future Fics of current rivals. There's just a level of camaraderie and understanding that happens after that many years in the same league; it doesn't matter how much beef you had. And this fic is just so incredible. I love thinking about what these guys do after retirement. A must read IMO.

home by now by daisysusan (@hopetorun) 🔒 (E, 102.3k) Probably one of the best fics. I love the way this builds up and keeps you on edge. It really mirrors how Matty feels, just this general unease of knowing something is wrong but not knowing what. The laying of the pining with the hurt and confusion is just so well done.

back to where we lasted by @ohtemporas 🔒 (E, 34.4k) Trade fics are always so interesting with these two. Especially in the situation where they are exes. And one of them (Leon in this case) has fucked up greatly, and they need to figure out how to get past it because neither of them are over it. Or in this case, figure out how to do it again, but properly.

Old Flames Burn Brighter by @cisumox (E, 25k) I love this fic so much because of the way they are both clearly affected by what happened and how much they still want to love each other. I think about this one al the time. Warning: this does involve a career ending injury.

settle down in the Sunshine State by @puckthisshift 🔒 (E, 14.7k) This has my fave Mattdrai trope where one of them is a fucking idiot, and is so in their head about it. And they have absolutely no idea what literally every single other person knows. In this case, it's Matthew. I absolutely love this fic. I read it all the time.

gather your broken lessons and move by rumandwhine 🔒 (E, 30.5k) This one is super interesting because it doesn't involve a trade, or them in the same place. It is the same as it was before, but different. How are they doing to figure out what went wrong and how are they going to make sure they don't make the same mistakes? They are older now, but are they any less stupid. Keep reading to find out. (Also featuring an absolutely hilarious situation with Drai and his rookie).

AUs

linger by @bropunzeling 🔒 (E, 65.5k) (Omegaverse) This is another all timer. It is so incredible: the way they are just so inexplicably drawn to each other, and obsessed but so worried about their obsession. And the way Leon treats Matthew as something really special from the beginning (and how Matthew just doesn't seem to pick up on that). The way that things build towards the climax, with the ASG 2023 moment (which makes me want to rip my eyeballs out every time; it HURTS). It has all the best parts of omegaverse and explores their relationships with their dynamics so thoughtfully.

whatever promises I made by @puckthisshift 🔒 (E, 360k) (Omegaverse) Yet another all timer for the genre as a whole. The way that omegaverse is explored here is so interesting. It was the fic that really got me on board with the AU. It is so core to the way the characters interact with each other and the world, and the inherent traumas it brings really parallels some of the experiences of populations in the real world (e.g. women).

so is the longing by dogjuice 🔒 (E, 44.7k) (Omegaverse) When I tell you I have read this fic sooooo many times. It is so so good (and so hot). Matthew is so incredibly oblivious and Leon is pining so hard and down soooooo bad. I think Leon's love for Matthew can be seen from like Alpha centauri and yet Matthew totally misses it (among other things). This is SO good.

Egos and Eligibility by @puckthisshift 🔒 (E, 91.1k) (Regency & Omegaverse) I will continue to suck up to my good friend Iris LOL. But seriously, I read this before I even knew it was her and I love it so much. I adore Regency Matthew and the way Leon is literally ever MMC from the era (Mr Darcy) is so funny to me (why so pissy Leon). Regency is such a perfect setting for the Omegaverse tropes of courting and, also again, exploring the societal impact of having these dynamics in play. I think the part where Matthew goes into heat is SO funny and well written. Bridgerton wishes.

Royal Pain by lavender_hazyy 🔒 (E, 48.9k) + Sequel Rules of Engagement (E, 37.8k) (Medieval/Royalty/Bridgerton/Robin Hood) That sounds like the most bonkers combination of things, but it's truly so so so good. I recommend this one SO much. It's so much fun to read, and their interactions are so funny. Poor Connor is always experiencing the Horrors in the background. Everything about this is perfection. THE FUCKING LOVE LETTERS OMG.

bittersweet and strange by @puckthisshift 🔒 (E, 53.4k) (Fairytale Curses) Will I ever stop thinking about this? Probably not. :) I think so much of this is a metaphor for the "beast" that Matthew portrays himself to be (maybe believes himself to be) irl. Also, I will never get enough of Taryn as a character; she is just incredible. I will literally never forget the reveal at the end (and ever villain I ever write will be henceforth inspired by you). (Also, curly haired tiger Matthew, you will always be real to me. Leon + me *handshake emoji* wanting to tough Matthew's fur).

I honestly don't even think this is ALL of the Mattdrai fics I think about regularly/reread regularly. But these are at least a lot of them. There are also so many good recommendation lists on this website when you search for "mattdrai fic recs" that will include even more fics than the ones I've selected.

Legitimately, thank you to all Mattdrai writers out there for being the fucking GOATs. I don't know what I would be reading if not this.

[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Twenty

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Jake and Bob finally talk; Jake makes a startling statement and Ducky's water breaks

WC: 1K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

You sat on the couch wearing a dress that stretched over your mountain of a stomach, feet swinging. “Come on, Cowboy!” you yelled out. “This isn’t the Miss Texas pageant!” 

Jake appeared from the doorway, running a hand through his hair. He had on a pair of jeans and a thin cashmere polo tucked in at the waist. He looked nervous. 

“Are you ready?” he nodded. “Help me up, please.” 

Jake held out his hands and lifted you gently as you groaned. “You alright baby?” he whispered. 

“I’m enormous,” you complained. “And she’s kicking my ribs like she’s getting paid for it.” 

“Maybe we have a soccer star on our hands,” he replied, placing one hand on your belly. 

You looked up. “I don’t think I need to tell you how important it is to me that tonight goes well.” 

Jake sighed. “I’m well aware of what’s at stake, Y/N.” 

You frowned. “Why do you say it like that?” 

“Let’s just go,” he said, grabbing his truck keys from the table near the door. 

“No. Tell me what you meant.” 

Jake groaned. “I’m really not in the mood for this.” 

“Well neither am I, but here we are.” You were being stubborn and you knew it. It was one of your less attractive traits, as your mother always said. 

“You want to know the truth?” Jake whirled around to face you. “That’s my baby in there. But I know for a goddamn fact that you’ll pick your family over me if it comes down to it. And that if for some reason Floyd and I can’t figure this out, you’ll pick him over me. And I’m not going to get to be a part of my kid’s life. Not in the way that I want to be.” 

It took you a moment to reply. And just as you opened your mouth to speak, Jake cut you off. 

“Let’s go,” he said quietly. “We’re going to be late.” 

***

The drive was silent, punctuated only by the sounds of your scraggly breath as the truck ricketed over potholes. Jake kept both hands on the wheel, gripping it hard. 

You were quiet as he pulled into a parking space, Bob’s truck already parked across the way. When you went to slip your hands into Jake’s, he shifted just enough out of the way. 

Inside, Bob sat at a corner table wearing a linen shirt, a look of disgruntled discomfort across his face. He stood up when he spotted you, reaching out to kiss your cheek. “Ducky.” He straightened. “Hangman.” 

“Floyd.” 

“Call each other by your first names,” you demanded, plopping down into the chair and taking a sip of ice water. “Please.” 

“Jake,” Bob bit out.

“Bob.” 

“There. Was that so hard?” You winced as the baby kicked, hard, against what may or may not have been the remaining shred of a spleen. 

“Are you alright?” Bob asked quietly. 

You looked up and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” You cut him off. “Can the two of you just talk please? So I can go home and put on my pajamas.” 

“If you want I’ll take you home now.” Jake offered. 

“Jesus fuck,” you grumbled and they both looked up, startled. “Talk to each other. Now.” You crossed your arms over your chest, resting them on your belly. 

Jake sighed while Bob leaned back. 

Finally, Jake said, “I called Joe the other day. After what happened at the restaurant.” 

Bob frowned. You did, too. “Who is Joe?” 

“Dakota’s husband,” they replied in unison. 

“Asked how he was doing. How Blake was. He’s in the third grade now.” 

“I know that,” Bob bit out. “He’s my godson.” 

Jake hung his head. “Listen, Bob, I’m trying here. Do you know how many times I woke up that first year after the accident in the middle of the night drenched in sweat? How many times I wondered if it would have been better if it was me in her seat. What if I had just gone down instead.” He sucked in a breath. “I’m about to be a father. And it’s made me do a lot of thinking. I’m not saying it was right, or that I don’t regret it. But maybe there was a reason I wasn’t the one who we lost out there. Maybe this is what I was meant to do and be. And I think I owe our daughter, Y/N’s and mine, everything I can give to her. And that means being a father who isn’t constantly haunted by ghosts.” 

The air was still. In front of you, your spaghetti was getting cold, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Jake and Bob as they sat across from each other in silence. 

“Tell me the truth,” Bob said, gravely voice barely above a whisper. “Do you love my sister?” 

“Yes.” It was automatic. Your heart jumped into your throat. “I love her. I’m in love with her. I’d do anything for her.” 

“So marry her.” 

“Bobby!” you slapped his upper arm. “You shut up.” 

“I’m serious,” he said. “Marry her and provide a good life for her.” 

“Happily.” 

Your eyes went wide. “What?” 

Jake turned to you. “I know you’re scared and that’s OK. But when you’re ready, I’ll be here. Because I’m ready for this. All of this.” 

Your heart started beating fast. You felt the air tighten around you as your reached out to grab the edge of the table. 

“Ducky?” 

“Baby? Are you alright?” 

“I think, I’m—”

The rush of liquid from beneath your dress stopped you mid sentence. You looked up. 

“I think I’m in labor.” 

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@blue-aconite @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloydssunnies @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @spinning-away @myfaveficrecs @withahappyrefrain

@gigisimsonmars @shanimallina87 @seresinsweetie @seresinhangmanjake@mycobrakai1972 @sio-ina-bottle @joaquinwhorres @justanothermagicalsara @na-ta-sh-aa @rosiahills22 @sometimesanalice @seresinslady @seresinsweetie @seresinhangmanjake @mrsjobarnes @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @palepeanutponyshoe

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Five

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person) Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Smut. Angst. Word count: ~3.5k

Series masterlist

Chapter summary: Aemond dwells upon the past while trying to live without her.

Author's note: I don't have a tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

The flat door clicks closed behind Aemond and he lingers in the corridor for a moment. This was for the best, he was sparing her, so why does his heart feel so heavy? Every step towards his car feels as though he’s walking through quicksand.

He loads Vhagar into the boot, throwing his overnight bag onto the backseat and sits wearily behind the wheel, gripping it with enough force to turn his knuckles white. He screws his eye shut, attempting to will away the prickling sensation around the rim, alongside the lump in his throat.

I’ve done the right thing. I’ve done the right thing. 

**15 YEARS PRIOR**

Aemond looks up at her from where he’s seated on the edge of the hotel bed, brows arched in pain and disbelief, as tears slip down his cheeks. “So that’s just it, you’re ending things?”

Alys purses her crimson stained lips, perfectly manicured nails of the same shade brush against his cheek as she stands over him. “Oh sweetheart,” she coos, “You had to know that our little arrangement wasn’t forever.”

His heart twinges at this, what could she possibly mean? They are made for each other, two halves of the same whole. He stares at her, confused. “But I love you…”

She laughs, green eyes crinkling with mirth and the sight and sound is a dagger to his chest.

“You don’t love me,” she says, her tone condescending, “You’re barely twenty, you don’t know what love is. You just like the idea of an older woman.”

He shakes his head, feeling himself become angry at her cold dismissal of his feelings. “Then why? Why bother with me?”

Alys sighs. “Look, we both got something we wanted out of this arrangement. You got to have a little fun, and I made sure I got the Harrenhal contract.”

Bile rises in Aemond’s throat, his eye narrowing hatefully as he stares at her, acrid warmth spreading throughout his chest.

She’d used him.

**PRESENT DAY**

Aemond’s own flat feels too big, too empty, too quiet, when he returns to it. The pitter patter of Vhagar’s claws against the hardwood floor as she potters towards her bed is the only audible sound.

He’s never stopped to consider his own living space much before, preferring functionality over comfort. He is out most of the time anyway, so what does it matter as long as things do what he needs them to do? 

It’s only as he leans against the spotless granite of the kitchen counter that he is struck by how lifeless and sterile it is here. He’s grown used to the warmth and cosiness of being at her place; the smell of jasmine that wafts delicately in the air from the incense sticks that her and Mysaria always seem to be burning, being pressed against her on the tiny sofa, her feet in his lap as trashy TV plays just a little too loudly, the tiny space is filled with laughter, comfort and love. Dropped back into his own space he feels as though he’s been set adrift, empty and hollow, yet he has no one to blame but himself.

The bed is too big, he has too much room, he misses the feel of springs digging into his back as he curls himself around her on her tiny mattress. This bed doesn’t feel like home, not anymore, not since he’d laid her down upon it all those nights ago, put her legs over his shoulders and…fucked it all up by leaving without saying anything the next day, just like he fucks up everything. She’d given him a second chance and he’d squandered it.

No, he did what he needed to.

I’ve done the right thing. I’ve done the right thing. 

He groans, scrubbing a hand over his face and throws the covers off, walking to the bathroom. Rifling through the medicine cabinet in search of painkillers to dull the throbbing ache in his left eye socket, his fingers close around something cool and metallic.

He plucks it out, studying it carefully. It’s a bracelet of hers, probably left there accidentally from one of the few times she’s stayed over. He turns the silver bangle over in his fingers, remembering the first time he’d seen her wear it. He’d thought to himself it looked cheap, but now as he holds it it feels like the most precious treasure in the world. It’s all he has left of her.

How had he allowed things to go this far? It was only ever supposed to be transactional but he’d allowed it to evolve, letting her occupy a space in his heart and mind that left them both vulnerable. He ended things, not wanting to cause her unnecessary pain and yet in doing so has devastated them both.

Aemond doesn’t do love or relationships. Not even his own family can stand him, so how can he expect another person to feel that way about him, or open himself up to the possibility of having those feelings for someone else? It’s a path he’s trodden before and it doesn’t end well.

**5 YEARS PRIOR**

Aemond leans in to kiss Floris, she turns her head and he catches her cheek instead.

“I’ve just put on lipgloss, Aem,” she says, her voice saccharine, “Aren’t you going to be late for work?”

“Mm. Was just about to leave, love,” He tells her, grabbing his keys.

“Forgetting something?” She says with a slight pout and tilt of her head.

“Ah, of course,” he fishes his credit card out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and hands it over to her, smirking as the diamond of her engagement ring glitters with the movement of her fingers, “I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“You too!” She calls over her shoulder, already walking back towards the bedroom.

It’s not until Aemond is almost at his car that he realises he’s left his phone in the flat and heads back upstairs to retrieve it. As he opens the front door he can hear Floris on the phone, only able to pick up on her side of the conversation, he pauses to listen in.

“...I can only put him off for so long. I have to do it occasionally, otherwise he’d get suspicious. It’s that horrible prosthetic eye, it gives me the creeps–”

“...only a few months until the wedding, then I can get a quickie divorce and take half of everything–”

“...no, he hasn’t made me sign a pre-nup, he’s too obsessed with me for that–”

Aemond’s breath catches in his throat as a dull ache spreads its way through his chest. He slams the front door hard enough to alert Floris that he’s home and strides towards the bedroom.

**PRESENT DAY**

The next few weeks are a miserable dirge for Aemond. He buries himself in paperwork at work, in an attempt to push away thoughts of her, yet finds his mind wandering to how she might be spending the working day, whether she’s finally managed to get the museum to commission the exhibit she’s been pushing for or not. He considers dropping by the museum, just to see if he can watch her from a distance, but decides against it. It was his decision to end things, it was for the best, the least he owed her was to stay away.

Aemond sits on his couch in the evenings, the cold, hard leather unwelcoming against his back, the space too expansive as he attempts to watch the same trashy TV on his widescreen that he’d watched with her on her TV. He finds he couldn’t give less of a shit about which couples are voted off of Love Island or who scored the lowest on Come Dine With Me, for him the experience was about being snuggled up next to her on the sofa, feeling her warmth, hearing her laugh. Now she’s gone, and none of the things that accompanied that seem to matter.

Family functions are unbearable without her. He misses the way she’d smile up at him when he placed his hand at the small of her back, misses how effortlessly she converses with his family, even the members he struggles to get along with.

Without her to keep him grounded, he bickers with Aegon, is aloof with his mother and Helaena and actively goes out of his way to antagonise his nephews. He hasn’t just reverted back to old habits, he’s worse, and it’s obvious his family have begun to notice too. He elects just to stay away entirely when invitations are extended.

That is until the night of Helaena’s birthday party. His only sister would never forgive him if he didn’t show up, so grudgingly he goes to the gathering his mother is having for her at her place. 

He stands out on the decking, the same decking where he’d shared his first kiss with her, the memory plays on a loop in his head, he can still taste the red wine on her lips. 

The cherry red tip of his cigarette as he takes a drag provides further illumination alongside the soft glow of the lights through the windows of the house, and the moon that shines bright in the night sky. 

It’s quiet, save for the muffled bass of the music coming from inside. It gets louder as the French doors slide open for a moment, quieting once more as they slide closed.

Aemond rolls his eye, blowing out a tight line of smoke, his shoulders tensing. He wants to be left alone, he had hoped that escaping to the garden would have made that perfectly clear to everyone.

“It’s just me,” Helaena says softly, coming to stand beside him.

Aemond softens, glancing down at her, his gaze drawn to the bubbles that rise to the top of the glass in the gin and tonic that she’s taking delicate sips from.

“Happy birthday, Hel,” he says, facing forward again and taking another drag.

“It’d be happier if you’d actually come inside,” She nudges him gently with her elbow.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t be,”

“What’s going on with you? You’re miserable lately.”

“I’ve always been miserable,” He throws his cigarette butt down onto the decking and crushes it under foot.

“You were less miserable when you had your girlfriend. I liked the guy that you were when you were with her,”

“She’s not my girlfriend, never was,” Aemond’s tone is clipped, he purses his lips as he feels irritation prickle at his skin.

“Why not?” Helaena taps the rings on her fingers gently against her glass.

“She deserves better than me. I’ve spared her the inevitable hurt I’d cause her,”

“Hm. You know, there’s only so many times you can use that excuse before it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy,”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve ended things because you don’t want to hurt her, but I bet doing that has hurt her, and you,”

Aemond scoffs, “I don’t do relationships, Hel,”

She huffs a quiet laugh, “No, I don’t do relationships because I’m aroace. You do do relationships, Aemond, you’ve just made crappy choices in the past and you’re allowing fear to dictate your future,”

He narrows his eye, glancing towards her again, “And how do you know so much?”

“I’m incredibly fussy about the insects I choose for pin-mounting, and those just go on my wall. I’m even more particular when it comes to people. I’ve seen how you two look at each other, don’t chuck this away,”

“Hel–”

“I mean it, Aemond. She’s your…your atlas moth! Pin mount her before somebody else does,”

“A truly horrifying metaphor, but thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles warmly, “You gonna come inside now?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to go. Do you mind?”

“Gonna go get your girl?” She asks with a grin.

“Perhaps,” he says with a bow of his head.

Helaena deposits her drink on the railing and claps her hands together excitedly. “Then of course I don’t mind, go!”

Aemond pulls out his phone as he gets into his car, seeing the Instagram notification pop up on his lockscreen.

mysaria_ww has started a live video

Allowing his curiosity to get the better of him, he clicks on the notification and startles slightly as pounding music blares from his phone’s speaker. The camera sweeps shakily over a couple of obnoxiously lurid drinks before it lands on her.

Aemond feels his breath catch in his throat, his heart seems to skip a beat at the sight of her and he holds his phone in trembling hands as he makes a note of the location sticker. A cocktail bar not far from here.

He locks his phone and is starting the car before he has time to properly think about it.

The bar is dimly lit, the music not to Aemond’s taste and far louder than he’s comfortable with. It’s the type of place that has seemingly endless happy hours and serves drinks that are mostly ice. He bristiles uncomfortably as he descends the steps, but refuses to be deterred. He needs to speak to her.

He freezes when he sees her. Her elbow is propped against the edge of the table, her chin resting on her hand, an easy smile graces her lips as she listens intently to whatever Mysaria is whispering to her.

They’ve been apart for so long that he’s forgotten just how beautiful she really is. It’s like the first night he met her all over again, when he’d gotten out of the car to greet her and she’d stolen his breath away. He hadn’t let her kiss him that night, afraid she’d just be doing it for the money. He won’t make that mistake again tonight.

He walks slowly over to her table and the way her face falls when she notices him makes it feel as though his stomach is in free fall. She looks so shocked and unhappy, she’s never not been pleased to see him. He hates this.

“Can we talk?” He raises his voice to be heard above the music as he reaches their table.

She shakes her head, climbing unsteadily from her bar stool and grabbing her bag. “Oh, I am too drunk for this…”

He watches in dismay as she staggers away, flanked by Mysaria, before deciding to follow them both outside.

“Hey, wait–” He says, reaching for her, and she whips around, eyes wide and mouth tightened in anger.

“I’ll be right here,” Mysaria says softly to her, stepping to the side and pulling up the Uber app on her phone.

“No, you wait!” She shouts at him, “I have spent weeks trying to get over you. You don’t get to make someone fall in love with you and then act like that’s nothing!”

She’s in love with him?! 

He feels his chest tighten at the admission, standing there dumbfounded, he allows her to continue.

“I let you go,” She sobs, streaks of black mascara track their way down her cheeks alongside her tears, “I respected your decision, I didn’t reach out, even though I wanted to. I left you alone, so what gives you the right to ruin girls’ night?! You broke my heart and acted like you were doing me a favour, so why the fuck should I listen to anything you have to say?!”

Because I love you too.

He can’t say anything, as much as he wants to, his throat has run dry. His fingers flex uselessly by his sides, longing to reach out and wipe away the tears and make up that have run down her face.

She’s pulled away by Mysaria as an Uber pulls up to the curb and he can do nothing but watch helplessly as they drive away.

You’re losing her. Do something.

Sleep does not come for Aemond. The image of her tears plays over and over in his mind as he tosses and turns, tears from hurt that he’d caused her. 

He has experienced crying in relationships before; he’d cried when Alys ended things, but he was young and stupid and thought he was in love with a woman twice his age. Floris had bawled when he’d confronted her about what he’d overheard, but they were the crocodile tears of a desperate woman caught out for being a gold digger.

Aemond has never seen the real anguish of heartbreak before, at least not on another person, and he never wants to see it again. He has to make this right. It’s not until he feels the drip from his jaw onto his collarbone that he realises that after weeks of holding them in, his own tears have begun to fall.

It is almost midday the next day when Aemond has everything he needs prepared. The big white van he parks outside of her block of flats is cumbersome to drive in comparison to his sleek, black sports car, but he hopes the inconvenience will be worth it.

Come outside.

He texts her, relieved when the bubble displays as delivered, at least she hasn’t blocked his number.

He climbs out of the van, leaning against it, heart pounding as he looks up to see the curtains of her living room window twitch.

A few moments later she’s stepping outside, a look of confusion on her face. “What’s this?”

“An apology,” Aemond says, “Letting you go was a mistake. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I fucked it up, it’s what I do, I fuck things up. But I’m sorry, and I want to be with you, whatever that looks like for you. I want to do this properly.”

“Why are you doing all of this now?” She asks, folding her arms defensively.

“Because I’ve tried to live without you, and I can’t. What we had was good, so fucking good, and I threw it away because I’m a coward. Just let me make this right, please?”

She sighs, “What’s in the van?”

He motions for her to follow him, and opens up the back, revealing a brand new mattress, still in its plastic wrap.

“A replacement, so I can stay over without feeling like someone has spent all night attempting to make balloon animals with my spine.”

“Presumptuous of you,” She says with a raise of her eyebrows.

Aemond shrugs, “I’m all in,”

She runs her hands through her hair, eyes flitting between him and the mattress. “How the fuck are we supposed to get this upstairs?”

He smirks. “There are removal people coming in an hour, they’ll take your old one away and bring this one up,”

“And what happens if I say no?”

“Well, that’s why I told them to leave it an hour, so I’d have time to cancel in case you did,”

He can see her fighting against the smile that tugs against the corners of her mouth. “I’m not letting you off that easily,”

“I know,” He says, taking a step towards her.

“So what do we do for the next hour?”

“We could give that old, lumpy thing on your bed upstairs a final send off,” he reaches for her and she rolls her eyes.

“You’re pushing it,” she whispers.

“Hmm,” he runs the tip of his nose against her cheek, “I’ve missed you,” he presses a soft kiss to her cheek, “none of it matters,” he kisses her other cheek, “not the money, not anything,” he kisses the corner of her mouth, “not without you,”

When their lips finally meet it is slow and soft, and a contented sound rumbles within Aemond’s chest. It feels like he’s taking his first breath of air in weeks.

They waste no time in helping each other out of their clothes as they hurry upstairs. He smirks to himself as he lays back against the bed, feeling the familiar springs dig into his back, he pulls her to straddle him, allowing her to set a pace she’s comfortable with.

He moans low as she sinks slowly down onto him, the tight wet heat of her enveloping him causing his balls to tighten in a way that builds steady pressure at the base of his spine.

Gazing up at her with reverence, fingers digging into the plushness of her hips, he watches transfixed as her breasts bounce softly with each undulation, committing to memory every breathy moan and gasp. She feels like home, and it has never felt better to return.

When she eventually collapses against his chest, tightening and spasming around him as she falls apart, she takes him with her and he grunts as he feels himself pulsate and spill deep inside of her.

He strokes her hair as he holds tightly, gratitude and love overwhelming him. “You forgive me?” he asks, voice thick with emotion.

“I’m working on it,” she whispers back.

“I can wait,” he reassures her, “I’m all in.”

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 8: We’re Completely Undateable, Aren’t We?

You and Joel go on a double date. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 7, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Description of a nude selfie. Description of masturbation. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.5K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“What’s your friend’s name again?” 

Natalie wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders as you walked toward the restaurant. It was a nice one - trendy, with an extensive cocktail menu, something you were planning to take full advantage of as you watched Joel put the moves on someone else. Natalie, of course, looked beautiful. Perfect, really. At least, perfect for Joel. 

He’d always had a type. He denied it but he did. Joel had always gone for the effortlessly beautiful type, the kinds of girls in high school you’d have described as a step beyond the girl next door.

Natalie fit the bill, with soft features and natural makeup that perfectly accented them in a way that made you wonder if she was wearing makeup at all. She was unquestionably beautiful, the kind that made you do a double take and wonder what the hell someone like her was doing teaching and not modeling or being an influencer or something that was more lucrative because surely someone who looked like that had easier ways to make a living. 

But she was a professor and she was a good one, too. Several of your students had her for other classes and you always enjoyed when you had a chance to chat with her in passing. Joel was going to like her. How could he not? 

“His name is Joel,” you said. 

“Joel,” she repeated, taking a deep breath and giving a nod that made her curls bounce. “OK. Sorry, I haven’t been on a date in like… six months. I swear I won’t be a total spaz the whole time we’re in there.” 

“Well, we’re going to be in the same boat,” you smiled, your stomach in knots. “This is my first date since my split with my ex but you have to rip the bandaid off at some point, right?” 

“Right,” she smiled back. “We’ve got this.” 

If you didn’t throw up, she was probably right.

You weren’t going to say that.

“Yes we do.” 

Joel and the man he said he was bringing for you were already inside, seated on opposite sides of the table, diagonally from each other and looking like the most awkward pair. Joel spotted you first, his eyes going a little wide before he stood up almost comically fast, his chair nearly toppling over behind him. You gave him a tight smile and a small wave as your stomach got tight. 

This was going to be fucking torture. 

The other man got up, too, and turned to face you and Natalie. He was tall - but not as tall as Joel - and handsome, if a few years younger than you. You weren’t sure how you felt about that. Of course, it might not matter how you felt about it, given how his eyes fell on Natalie. 

“He’s cute!” Natalie whispered in your ear as you approached the table. 

Before you had a chance to respond, she walked up to the other man and smiled, her hand out. 

“Joel?” She asked. “I’m Natalie.” 

“Oh,” he said, looking flustered. “Um… I’m sorry, I’m not…” 

“I’m Joel,” he smiled tightly, his hand out to her across the table. “Sorry…” 

“Oh, God,” she laughed. “No, I’m sorry! I’m Natalie, it’s so nice to meet you Joel.” 

She took the seat next to the other man, anyway, settling in across from Joel as you went around the table to sit beside him. He raised his eyebrows at you but you just shrugged before introducing yourself to the other man. 

“Good to meet you,” he said, shaking your hand lightly. “I’m Blake.” 

“Hi,” you said again, hoping your smile wasn’t too forced. 

You sat next to Joel and picked up the menu, looking it over and trying to force yourself to relax. Except you relaxed so much that your knee brushed Joel’s under the table and it made you jump. He looked at you when you did and you both smiled tightly, almost apologetically at each other. You tried not to frown as you went back to your menu. 

Joel didn’t look particularly thrilled about the current situation. Had you done a bad job of picking his date? You’d thought Natalie would have been a foolproof choice but maybe you were wrong. Or maybe he really wanted you to be across from him so his knee could accidentally brush hers under the table. You gnawed on your lower lip. 

“Everything OK?” Natalie asked, making you look up from the menu. It took you a moment to realize she was talking to you. 

“Oh,” you laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, no, it’s… it’s fine, I… um…” 

“Goldie has a hard time picking something to order at new places,” Joel cut off your stammering. 

You looked at him, a little aghast. 

“I do not!” 

“Please,” he rolled his eyes. “You’ve always been that way. You’re worse now but you can never just get whatever you want, you always have to wait to see what I’m getting so you can steal some and even then you’ll hedge your bets.” 

“As if you don’t steal my food,” you put the menu down. “I don’t know that I’ve ever eaten something that I ordered all on my own if I’m out with you…” 

“You don’t finish it, anyway!” 

“Joel, I have to get a bigger Blizzard than I really want because if I don’t, you steal all of it…” 

“So you two have known each other a long time, huh?” Natalie said and you suddenly remembered that it wasn’t just you and Joel there. You were on a date. With other people. 

You cleared your throat. 

“Yeah,” Joel said, looking at Natalie, one of his signature, charming smiles on his face. “Goldie and I go way back, almost 20 years now…” 

“God, we’re getting old,” you laughed a little and tried to find someplace to look that wasn’t at Joel while he put the moves on your coworker. 

“Goldie?” Blake asked. 

“Oh,” you laughed again, clenching an unclenching your hand under the table. “Yeah, that’s what Joel calls me…” 

“She carried this notebook with this sparkly gold cover with her everywhere,” he said. You could feel his eyes on you and your face got hot. “Seriously, it was practically surgically attached. Still kind of is. But that makes sense since she’s a writer. She was a writer then, too. Always been a writer…” 

“What do you write?” Blake asked, looking intrigued. 

“Not much lately,” you said. “But I have one book that’s published. It’s kind of a coming of age story?” 

“Oh,” he deflated a bit. 

“Sorry,” you said, not sure why you were saying it. 

“No, don’t apologize,” he said quickly. “Just… not really my thing. Sorry. I’m sure it’s great…” 

“What kind of books do you like?” You asked, desperate to change the subject. 

“Well, I’m reading Ulysses right now…” 

“Ulysses?” Natalie cut him off before covering her mouth and clearing her throat. “Sorry. That’s just… it’s one of my favorites. I’m teaching it next semester…” 

“Really?” He asked, turning to face her, his face lighting up. “What do you like about it?” 

“Oh, I love the stream of consciousness structure…” 

They seemed to tune out everything then, totally absorbed in each other. You gave Joel a look and he gave you the same one back. 

You weren’t entirely unused to being with Joel on a date, it had just been a while. In hindsight, you realized you probably hadn’t been the best friend you could have been when that happened. You just continued on with Joel like you did when it was just the two of you, the fact that his flavor of the week was there hadn’t made much difference. You’d never felt like a third wheel. You never had much chance to feel like a third wheel. 

You were pretty sure you and Joel were the collective third wheel now. 

“This isn’t going well,” Joel said, keeping his voice low and turning his head like he was looking back over the shoulder that was closest to you. 

“It is for them,” you said, disguising it with a sip of water. 

“Good evening!” The server mercifully came to the table and introduced himself. “Can I get you folks started with a bottle of wine or perhaps some of our speciality cocktails?” 

“Oh thank God,” Joel muttered. 

“Anybody else want wine?” You asked before anyone had a chance to react to what he said. You snatched up the wine list and skimmed to a mid-priced cab. “This winery is excellent, everyone good with red?” 

“Sounds great,” Natalie smiled. 

“Sure,” Blake smiled. 

You didn’t bother to wait for Joel’s response and ordered the bottle and a martini because dear lord if you were going to make it through this night you needed to be a lot drunker than this. 

The server left and you exchanged a tight smile with Natalie before Blake cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“So,” Natalie said after a moment. “You said you like this winery?” 

“Oh,” you glanced quickly at Joel. “Yeah, I did a tasting there a few years ago, they’re in Sonoma, really excellent reds…” 

“So, you like to travel?” Blake asked. 

“Yeah, it’s always fun going somewhere new,” you smiled. “How about you? Anywhere really fun you’ve been?” 

“Oh, I uh… Don’t really like to travel,” Blake said. “Much more of a homebody type.” 

“Me too,” Natalie said, sounding a little too excited before clearing her throat. “I just really like having my quiet time, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Blake nodded. “You know, me and Joel work in contracting and I’ve really tried to make my home a place I really want to be, it’s my favorite place in the world.” 

“See, that’s so wonderful,” Natalie said. “I’ve always wanted something like that but I’ve been bouncing from apartment to apartment for years so it’s hard to really customize things…” 

The two of them were off again and you and Joel were left awkwardly sipping the wine the server came back to pour. 

It stayed like that all through dinner. All four of you tried to make conversation with the person you were there to see. You really, truly did. But it always led to Blake and Natalie being totally absorbed in each other while you and Joel were left sipping wine and pretending that you weren’t being effectively ditched by your dates. 

“Can you excuse me for just one minute,” Natalie said as you were waiting for the check, giving you a look across the table. “I just need to pop to the ladies’ room…” 

“I’ll come with you,” you said quickly, grabbing your purse and following her. 

The second you were behind closed doors, she grabbed your hand, an apologetic look on her face. 

“I am so sorry,” she said. “Your friend seems great, really, and I know that Blake was your date tonight but would you mind if I got his number? If you’re really into him or you think it would hurt Joel’s feelings I absolutely won’t, it’s really not a big deal…” 

“Natalie,” you smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. “I doubt Blake even remembers my name right now. Absolutely, get his number, no hard feelings at all.” 

“You’re sure?” She winced. 

“Definitely,” you said. “Please, don’t miss out because you’re worried about being polite or something with me. You two seem like you have a real connection, you should go for it.” 

“Thank you so much!” She gave a little squeal. “OK now that it’s OK for me to say it? I’m really excited, I really, really like Blake.” 

“Good,” you smiled. “I’m happy for you.” 

Joel and Blake had picked up the tab by the time you got back to the table and the four of you headed for the door, Natalie and Blake sticking close together while you and Joel hung back. 

“Hey, Joel,” you said as you made it to the door. “One sec, let me show you something…” 

He frowned as you put your hand in his and tugged him to the side in the parking lot. 

“What?” He asked, glancing back at Natalie and Blake before looking at you. 

“Just going to give them some space…” You trailed off, leaning around him to watch where Blake and Natalie were talking, Blake pulling out his phone and smiling as they did. “And there it is.” 

“What?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder but you grabbed him by the chin and made him look at you, his eyes going wide. 

“Don’t look!” You hissed. “God, you have no tact…” 

“Shut up.” 

“They’re swapping numbers,” you said. “Two love birds over there…” 

“Jesus,” he groaned. 

“Sorry,” you said, stopping watching them and focusing on Joel again. “Didn’t think you’d mind too much…” 

“Yeah, didn’t exactly feel a love connection with Natalie,” he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You OK with Blake not being the one?” 

“Think I’ll survive,” you smiled tightly. You glanced around him one more time. Phones were back in pockets. “OK I think we’re good.” 

“C’mon Cupid,” he said. “Let’s go get shot down.” 

You snorted but followed behind him to the edge of the parking lot where Blake and Natalie were waiting. 

“So, if you don’t mind,” Natalie said, still wincing a little. “I was going to have Blake take me home? Catch up with you next week?” 

“Sounds good,” you smiled before turning to Blake. “It was nice meeting you.” 

“You too,” he said, at least being polite enough to look sheepish about it. 

“Good to meet you, too, Joel,” Natalie said. “Really, you seem… nice.” 

“Same to you,” he said, hands still in his pockets. 

The two of you stood there, side by side, as your dates went home together. 

You sighed and looked over at Joel once Blake and Natalie were safely in his car. Joel looked back at you. 

“We’re completely undateable, aren’t we?” He asked. 

“Yep,” you nodded once. 

He sighed. 

“Well, at least we have each other.” 

“Could be worse,” you agreed. 

“Want to come over?” He asked. 

“Yes but…” you bit your lip. “Can we go to Sonic first? I kind of really need a shake now.” 

Joel laughed. 

“Absofuckinlutely we can.” 

***

“You really think this is a good idea?” 

Your head was dangling off the seat of the couch, your legs draped over the back as you looked at your phone screen.

“Better idea than all your blood rushin’ to your head for however long you’ve been sitting like that,” Joel replied, sitting on the floor with his back to the love seat next to you. He tried to ignore the way your body curved in that position. The shape of your legs, your ass pressing into the cushions, your breasts swelling over the cups of your bra and giving him a glimpse of your cleavage in the v-neck of your dress. 

You set your phone on your stomach and looked longingly at the styrofoam cup on his coffee table. 

“What?” He asked. 

“I want my shake.” 

“So drink the shake!” 

“I don’t wanna sit up,” you whined a little. Joel laughed. You’d added a generous amount of vodka to the shake and it was starting to show. You reached for the cup, arm outstretched, fingers groping but it was out of reach. You whimpered and he sighed, bringing the cup alongside your head. You tried to take it but he pulled the cup away for a moment. 

“Just wait, I’m holdin’ it,” he said. “Take a sip if you actually can from that position, you weirdo.” 

You rolled your eyes with more dramatic force than Sarah on her best day. 

“You’re being controlling,” you said, putting the hand that had been reaching for the shake on your stomach by your phone. 

“Tryin’ to keep you from wrecking my carpet,” he replied, putting the shake by your head again and putting the straw in your open mouth. “Don’t choke.” 

“Don’t choke,” you mumbled mockingly around the straw - or he thought you did, anyway. It was hard to tell. You managed to actually get some milkshake into your mouth but almost immediately grimaced. Joel took the straw away. 

“You OK?” He laughed. 

“Brain freeze,” you winced, eyes scrunched closed. “Ugh, why would vodka and chocolate betray me in this way?” 

“Your guess is as good as mine, Goldie.” 

“You think this is why my date ditched me?” You asked, eyes still closed in a wince. 

“What?” Joel laughed. “Because chocolate and vodka decided to attack you personally?” 

“No,” you frowned, the upside down angle of your head making it look like a sad smile for a moment. “Because I like doing shit like this. I probably should have out grown this years ago.” 

“Hon, if some asshole is telling you to grow up, he doesn’t deserve you,” he said. “Now let me see that damn profile.” 

You sighed and surrendered your phone. While sitting in Joel’s truck at Sonic after your respective dates had crumbled, Joel redownloaded Tinder and you decided to set up a profile of your own. But you’d never had a dating app profile before. You sat on the couch, gnawing on your thumbnail and ignoring the milkshake you’d wanted to stop for until Joel went and got the liquor. After a few shots - and a generous amount added to your shake - you loosened up enough to fill out the profile. 

But you hadn’t loosened up enough to finalize it yourself. 

“OK well we’re changing out these pictures,” Joel said, scrolling down the page. 

“What’s wrong with the pictures!” 

“Did you scroll through your album to find the most boring photos of you ever taken?” He asked, lowering the phone enough to look at you. “Because these are not doing you justice…” 

“Fuck off,” you tried to shove him but almost fell off the couch instead, gasping then giggling as Joel caught you. 

“Jesus, please try to not break your neck,” he said, heart in his throat as he helped arrange you on the couch. “Just got you back, rather you not die in my living room…” 

“Give it a few months,” you settled into the couch again. “You’ll change your tune.” 

He scoffed, scrolling down your profile. 

“See, you didn’t pick the best prompts,” he said, frowning. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, adjusting your head to try to see him better and then giving up. 

“You’ve basically just said what your job is four different times,” he said. “Can I fuck with your profile?” 

“You’re the expert,” you shrugged. “Shake please.” 

Joel sighed and held the cup up so you could reach the straw again before going into your prompts. 

“Alright, if you had 20 minutes left to live, what would you do?” Joel asked, lowering the phone to look at you again. 

“I don’t wanna say,” you pouted a little. 

“Well now you have to,” he teased. “I gotta know. Is it masturbate? Eat your weight in chocolate ice cream? Tell Brad to go fuck himself? What?” 

“Not telling.” 

“I’ll tell you mine,” Joel said. “C’mon…” 

“No.” 

“Goldie.” 

“Joel.” 

“Don’t make me beg, he said. “I will withhold your alcoholic shake.” 

You quirked your jaw for a moment before you sighed. 

“I’d come see you,” you said. “There. Happy?” 

Joel’s heart beat a little faster. 

“Goldie…” 

“Don’t make fun!”

“I’m not!” He said quickly. “Really, I’m not, I promise I’m not.” 

“Feels like you are,” you muttered. 

“I’m not,” he said gently, moving so he was leaning on the couch next to you. “Promise.” 

“Yeah, alright…” 

“Hey,” he said. You lifted your head slightly, enough that he could see your face better. “I’d come see you, too. Assuming I had Sarah with me, of course.”

“What about Tommy?” 

“Fuck ‘em,” he smiled a little and you laughed. “Just don’t tell him I said that.”  

“Probably shouldn’t put that I would go see some other guy on my dating profile,” you said, letting your head dangle again. “Pick another prompt.” 

“How about this one,” he said. “I want someone who… will travel and explore new places with me. Sound good?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “I like that one.” 

“Here’s a good one,” Joel said, letting a teasing edge slip into his voice. “Your biggest red flag is… fucking old dudes…” 

“Fuck off,” you laughed. “The prompts suck.” 

“We’ll figure ‘em out later,” Joel said. “I’m going to find a picture of you that doesn’t look like it was taken at some fuckin’ work conference…” 

“Hey!” 

“You’re a fun person,” Joel said, going to your photo albums. “You’ve lived a little. Try showing that.” 

“Fine,” you sighed. “But I promise, there aren’t many pictures that are worth your time.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Joel said absently as he went to the map of photos. He pulled up the cluster that appeared near San Francisco. “See, this one’s good.” 

He held your phone in front of your face, a picture of you smiling in a vineyard. 

“Says you like to travel and like wine,” he said. “And you look good in it.” 

“Alright,” you said, a smile in your voice. “Put it in there.” 

“Not a first picture though,” he said. “We’ll find a better one for that…” 

“Knew you’d have this down to a science…” 

“Shut up,” he laughed, going back to the map. “You’ve been to Europe, right?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “For the book tour.” 

“Let’s see,” he said, heading across the ocean on the map and finding pictures in London. “Oh see, these are good, you’re all done up for work and shit but it’s in a cool place. So much better than that one shot you picked…” 

“Whatever you say,” you said, smile still evident in your voice. 

Joel toggled through pictures. You at the Tower of London, you by that big damn ferris wheel, you by Big Ben, a selfie with a woman who was pretty but not nearly as pretty as you. You holding your book and smiling with a room full of people in the background as they watched you intently. He smiled to himself, looking at the photo for a moment. He was so fucking proud of you, that you’d actually done the thing you’d always dreamed of and people loved you for it. He reached over and took a drink of your shake as he swiped to the next image but he immediately choked on it. 

It was a picture of you, a selfie. You were flat on your back on a fluffy white comforter, your eyes hazy with want, breasts bared for the camera. 

He knew he shouldn’t be looking at this. He knew. This wasn’t for him, this was for… well, presumably that fucking asshole you spent a decade married to. But before he could consciously stop himself, he memorized you. The swell of your breasts, the pebbling of your nipples, the curve at your waist just as the photo cut off. And that look on your face. How many times had he remembered - pretended? - that you looked at him like that when he’d been inside you? 

His conscious mind took over again. He coughed on the shake, dropping the phone and the drink. 

“Shit,” you said, adjusting quickly to help clean up. “Are you OK?” 

“Fine,” he said, trying to scramble for the phone as he hacked and coughed. Where the fuck had it fallen? “Just… wrong tube…” 

“Yeah, try not to do that,” you teased and Joel’s stomach dropped. Your phone was in your hand. 

“No, wait!” 

“What?” You laughed. “It’s my phone…” You looked down at the screen of it for the first time, your eyes going wide before you clutched it to your chest. “Oh my God, please tell me you didn’t see that!” 

He was quiet beyond his subsiding coughing for a moment. 

“It’s not that big of a deal…” he began but you groaned. 

“I can’t believe…” 

“I’m really sorry,” he said quickly. “I swear, I wasn’t looking for -”

“It’s not your fault,” you cut him off. Joel suddenly realized exactly how close the two of you were and he sat back from you. You winced, the expression passing quickly. “I’m sorry. I forgot that was even there, I thought I’d deleted it…” 

“It’s not a big deal…” 

“I just…” you looked at him, those eyes wide with a desperate need for understanding instead of just desperate want. “Look, things were already in a shitty place with Gale and I was trying to keep him interested when I was half a planet away and I was… well, I was obviously willing to try anything and - “ 

“Goldie,” he cut you off. “It’s OK. Really.” 

“No, it was stupid,” you looked down at your phone, barely pulling the screen away from your chest as you - presumably - deleted the picture. “It didn’t get me anywhere. I don’t think he even directly replied to that photo and it clearly didn’t do much to save my marriage and now… So yeah, it was pretty stupid.” 

“It wasn’t stupid,” he said gently. You scoffed. “It wasn’t. You were trying to take care of something that mattered to you. He was a fucking dumbass. You weren’t stupid.” 

He was suddenly close to you again - or it seemed sudden, anyway. But he was close enough that he could smell your shampoo and see the different shades in the iris of your eye. You were close enough that kissing you would be easy. Or it would be if there wasn’t so much between you. 

But maybe, just this once, it’d be easy. Actually easy. 

“We’re home!” Tommy’s voice boomed as the front door smacked into the wall. 

“Aunt Goldie!” Sarah shrieked, tearing into the living room as you smiled at her. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” 

She damn near hurdled Joel and launched herself at you, almost toppling you over as you caught her. 

“I didn’t either, kiddo,” you laughed and gave her a squeeze. “But your dad’s and my plans changed. I was just about to head home, though.” 

“Aw man,” she sat back from you, pouting a little. “You’re not sleeping over?” 

“Remember those cats we got earlier this week?” You asked, brows raised. “Not very nice for me to leave poor Puck home alone when he’s still new in the house, is it?” 

“I guess,” she sighed dramatically. “You should bring him next time. Him and Swiftie can be friends.” 

You smiled. 

“I’ll think about it.” You turned to Joel, looking down at the melting shake on the floor. “Can I help? Where are the paper towels, I can…” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said quickly. “You should probably head home.” 

“Right,” you smiled tightly, leaning around Joel to see his brother and gave him a wave. “Hi Tommy. Long time no see.” 

“You’re lookin’ good, Goldie,” he smiled. “Still out there being smarter than everyone?” 

“Mostly,” you replied. “You still pretending rolled up pieces of paper are cigarettes?” 

“Sometimes,” he smirked. “When I’m bored and I need excitement.” 

You laughed at that and gave Sarah a final hug before leaving. Joel watched you go before sending Sarah to the kitchen for the paper towels before telling her to get ready for bed. 

“She behave?” Joel asked as he mopped up the spilled shake and tried to get the image of you, half naked and desperate, out of his mind. 

“An angel, as always,” Tommy said. “You two sure made a mess…” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joel snapped, looking up at him. 

“Nothing,” he put his hands up. “Just an observation.” 

“Well,” Joel went back to cleaning up the mess. “Observe something else.” 

“Date went that well, huh?” Tommy asked. Joel could hear his cocky smile. 

“Something like that,” he muttered.

“You two will figure it out eventually.” 

“Yeah,” Joel sighed. “Helped her get a Tinder profile set up tonight…” 

“Not the kind of figure it out I meant, brother,” Tommy clapped him on the shoulder and groaned a little as he got up. 

“What kind did you mean?” Joel asked. 

“Well, figure it out and then you’ll know,” Tommy said. Joel rolled his eyes. “I’m out, been a long day.” 

“Thanks for taking Sarah,” Joel said. “I appreciate it.

“Thank me by getting your shit together,” Tommy replied. 

“Yeah,” Joel sighed. “I’m workin’ on it.” 

Tommy left and Joel managed to get the shake out of the carpet before heading to Sarah’s room to put her to bed. He read some of the book they were working on aloud and tucked her in before going to take a shower himself. 

Not that he needed one. He’d taken a shower just before getting ready for the date, it had only been a few hours. 

But he needed privacy. He needed to know that his daughter wasn’t going to overhear anything or come wandering in at an inopportune moment. 

The shower helped. 

He couldn’t wait for Sarah to fall asleep. It was like that picture was burned into his fucking retinas, he needed to get it out of his system now. He needed to get you out of his system. 

For now, he’d settle for the picture. 

It didn’t take much for his cock to be so hard it ached and he palmed it under the flow of hot water, working himself from root to tip. He tried not to think too much about the picture at first. He’d never been supposed to see it, it wasn’t right that he saw you that way. 

But he gave in quickly. He told himself it’d be just this once. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was just this once, just to move past it. 

He let himself pretend. Pretend that you’d sent him that picture, pretend that you looked at him all desperate and needy, pretend that he got to take off your clothes every night so he could touch every inch of you. He’d been so caught up in what was happening the one time he was with you, the overwhelming intensity of his first time all tied up with just how badly he’d wanted you for so long, he wasn’t sure how much of you he’d actually touched. Not really. But he wanted it to be all of you. He hoped it was all of you. He pretended that he knew all of you in that way as he worked his cock, hard and fast until he came so hard that it spilled over his hand and onto his shower wall. 

“Fuck,” he panted, leaning against the wall for support as his cock went soft in his hand. 

He needed to fucking get past this. It wasn’t worth blowing up his friendship with you, hadn’t he learned that by now? He had to get his shit together. 

He repeated it like a mantra as he cleaned himself up and toweled off before heading to bed. But he couldn’t sleep, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if you were OK. If there was a chance you were thinking of him like this somehow, too. 

Joel picked up his phone and went to text you for a moment before he decided against it. Maybe space was better. You probably needed some time after he saw that picture. 

Right? 

Instead, he opened Tinder. Maybe he could at lest find a decent option for a one night stand, see if fucking someone else helped get you out of his head. He’d never just fucked someone else when you were anywhere near him, though. Could he even do that now? Did he even want to?

He swiped right on the first few women on the app, not spending much time on their profiles and going off their pictures alone. He swiped left on the next one and was preparing to do a quick swipe when your face was in front of him again. 

It wasn’t the picture that was lodged in his brain. Instead, it was the picture of you at the Tower of London. Your hair was done but a little messy from the wind, a gentle but happy smile on your face. 

He just looked at you for a moment. You’d activated your profile in the short time since you’d left his house. 

You had Tinder now and he should have anticipated this. Of course if you added the app and lived this close you’d appear on his. But that didn’t make him any more prepared for it. 

What the fuck was he supposed to do? 

Did he swipe right on the off chance you did, too? But if you didn’t, he’d have to live with the fact that he knew you didn’t. 

If he swiped left, it could all go away. Be like it never happened, not you looking for someone else, not him stumbling upon that damn photo, none of it. If he swiped left, he could actually try to find someone else. 

His finger hovered over the screen for a moment as he tried to remember exactly what your skin felt like in his hands. 

He swiped left. 

Next Chapter

A/N: I know, these TWO. I love them. They need to figure it out but I love them.

I hope you do, too!

Stuff is going to ramp up a bit soon. Thank you so much for being alone for the ride! I know I haven't been replying to comments reliably lately (I keep posting chapters super late and just going to bed as soon as I post them instead of responding) but please know that every time I get a comment email to my inbox, it makes me smile. So thank you thank you thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings with me and thank you for caring about this fic. It truly means the world.

Love you!

[punkshort]

Chapter One

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

April 2003

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, as the subway lurched forward, catching you off guard.

Today was the first day of your new job at a big-time construction company in downtown Manhattan. You had just moved to NYC a couple months ago, and this job was the first place that made you a reasonable offer. You were beginning to work through the last of your savings and getting sick of bumming it on your old college dormmate’s couch, so you eagerly accepted the position. The last thing you wanted to do was ask your parents for money – they were already so worried about you living in New York and working in Manhattan.

You thought back to when you called your mom and dad to tell them you finally got a job offer, so excited to tell them you could get your very own place if it all worked out.

“But Baby, don’t you think it’s a little dangerous working down there after what happened?” your mom had begged on the phone.

"Mom, please don’t worry, this building is nowhere near as big, this one only has 10 floors, I promise I will be ok,” you pleaded, hoping she won’t guilt trip you into moving back to the suburbs of Chicago.

You had always been a quiet, shy, studious type. Your parents always joked you would live with them til you were 40, never one to party or do anything bad. Needless to say, when you announced after graduation you wanted to move to New York, your whole family was stunned. You were pretty sure they expected you to chicken out, or move back home after a month, but you had a dream and you were determined.

Suddenly, the tinny voice over the subway speaker broke into your reverie, announcing your stop. You filed out of the packed car with loads of others who look like they were all going to similar corporate jobs. You tugged anxiously on the sleeve of your blazer as you made your way up the stairs and out onto the street. The crisp spring air that hit your face was a welcome change to the stuffy, overpacked subway car you had just left.

Lucky for you, Miller & Miller Contracting, Inc. was a mere 3 blocks from the subway. Your heels clicked loudly in your ears as you approached the building with ten minutes to spare. Relief began to wash over you a bit when you realized you planned the commute perfectly. You hated being late.

You pushed the door open into the lobby, approaching a large desk with two receptionists. Both were talking animatedly on their headsets and transferring calls. Patiently waiting for one of them to be available, you casually glanced around the lobby to avoid looking as nervous as you felt. The lobby itself was beautiful: it was completely open all the way to the top floor, with the glass elevator shaft behind the reception desk. The front of the building also was all glass, so that it afforded a beautiful view as the elevator took you up to your destination.

“Can I help you?” one of the receptionists called out. She had curly, short blonde hair, thin, and was impeccably dressed.

"Yes! I’m sorry, yes, it’s my first day in accounting. I am supposed to be meeting Heather, my name is –“ the receptionist cut you off, guessing your name before you could even finish your sentence. You confirmed who you were, and she got up to come around the desk.

"I’m taking the newbie upstairs to accounting, I’ll be right back, need anything?” she called back over her shoulder to her long haired, brunette cohort.

The slightly older receptionist shook her head in acknowledgment, still listening to whoever was on the other end of the phone call.

The receptionist who greeted you smiled and stuck out her hand.

"I’m Maggie, it’s nice to meet you. Come around to the elevator, I’ll take you up to Heather.”

She led you around the back of her desk to the elevator bank, her curly hair bobbed as her heels clicked on the dark tile floor. She began rattling off questions and information, no doubt a side effect of her job, and possibly caffeine, as you waited next to her for the elevator to arrive.

"How old are you? Are you from New York? Do you know anyone who works here? I’m always so excited when someone new joins, sorry if I’m making you nervous!  It’s a fun place to work, it really is, there’s a lot of great people here. I know your position can be a tough one, so please give it a chance, I swear it’s worth it.” She paused for a minute, realizing she might be scaring you off, as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

“Uhhh,” you stammered, trying to absorb the last bit of information without looking concerned, and stepped into the empty car. Maggie stabbed the button for the 6th floor as you replied.

"I’m 25, it’s my first ‘real’ job out of college, I just mainly had internships before now, and they hardly paid much. I’m glad I can finally stop couch surfing. I am from a small town outside Chicago, I went to school there and I’ve always wanted to live in New York. My old college roommate already lived here, so I decided to give it a shot,” you paused for a moment as Maggie nodded along eagerly with your story. You frowned slightly.

"I’m sorry, what did you mean when you said-" Right then, the elevator doors pinged to floor 6, opening up to an empty hallway.

“OK we’re here! Follow me!” Maggie cut you off, and whisked you down the hallway, which took you to an open floorplan filled with cubes upon cubes of bustling employees. Some were chatting between their desks, others were hurriedly talking on the phone, and some mindlessly scrolling on their computers.

Maggie led you to the back wall, which consisted mostly of offices, and what looked to be conference rooms in one end. She turned left as you rushed to keep up while trying to absorb your surroundings. You nearly smacked into her when she came to an abrupt stop in front of a partially open office door. She knocked gently, smiling at the person inside.

“Good morning, Heather! I have your new hire here,” she gestured towards you and waved you over. There sat Heather, your new boss, who you had only met when you interviewed with her and HR. Her mid length dirty blonde hair was perfectly in place, bangs framing her face, just like the day you met. She was probably about 15 years older than you, but she looked like she could pass for around your age. She was very trim, wearing a form fitting black dress with strappy sandals, and her makeup looked impeccable. If it wasn’t for the old fashioned hair style, she could pass for around 30.

You stepped into Heather’s office, which you hadn’t seen when you interviewed with her a couple weeks back. It was small, but it had a decent view, which was to Heather’s back as she stood from her desk to greet you warmly by your name and thank you for being so punctual. She glanced behind you at Maggie and thanked her for showing you up, effectively dismissing her. You turned back to wave your thanks to Maggie, but she was already gone, heels echoing down the hallway back towards the elevator.

“Alright! Follow me, I will take you to the rest of the department and introduce you to everyone,” she motioned for you to follow her out of her office. Being the Controller, she had her own personal space away from the rest of the group, which you found was not too far away from her office. Heather led you back the way you came but kept going straight along the wall of offices, talking to you over her shoulder as she walked.

"I hope you made it in OK, I’m so glad the sun is out this morning! I was getting sick of all that rain, this weekend was such a drag with all the dreary weather.” You hummed your agreement and assured her you made it in just fine, not letting it be known you were overanalyzing your commute all weekend long.

Heather stopped at the corner of the floor, punched a personalized code into a keypad next to a door and opened it. You had initially thought it could be a conference room, but in fact it turned out to be a decently sized room filled with cubes, some filing cabinets, and a small safe. You glanced around at the room of about ten employees hard at work, heads mostly down or on the phone. Two girls around your age who were seated next to each other in the corner of the room quickly quieted down their chatter, and looked in your direction when you walked in. You gave a shy smile towards them as Heather addressed the department.

“Good morning gang, this is our new Accounts Receivables Specialist,” she turned towards you, announcing your name to the group. “Please make her feel welcome, if you don’t mind showing her around where the bathrooms and coffee are, I would appreciate it. I have a meeting this morning with the big guy I need to get ready for, I’m sorry I couldn’t do it myself.” She turned back to you apologetically.

"We have a great, tightknit team here, they'll show you the ropes. This is your desk,” she led you over near the corner of the room where the two girls had been chatting. “I already stocked it with some paper and pens, but we do have a supply closet on this floor if you need anything else, and Colleen is going to be your trainer.”

She motioned over to one of the two chatty girls, who bounced over with a smile and an outstretched hand. You shook it, reintroducing yourself warmly as Heather made her exit.

"Again, sorry guys, I have a meeting with Joel, and you know how he is.” She rolled her eyes, and she was met with some chuckles and a couple looks of sympathy. Heather gave you a final wave and a promise to return around lunchtime to check in, and left through the same door you came in, with it locking shut behind her.

Colleen must have been around your age, her blonde hair was pulled back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, and she had curious, bright blue eyes. She was wearing a business casual, knee length, light pink dress that was perfect for the beautiful spring day. You felt a bit out of place in your navy blazer and matching navy dress pants, but you wanted to look your most professional on your first day.

Colleen began to explain you will be shadowing her for the morning, getting you used to the software system they used, how to look up accounts, and where important files are stored. You learned Colleen was working in Accounts Payables, opposite your job. You realized the two of you will be working closely together, and connected the dots on why Heather chose her to train you, vaguely wondering who had your position prior.

As you pulled your rolling chair up to her desk to observe, notepad and pen in hand, you coolly questioned who Joel was, and what the reaction was all about. Colleen seemed the type that liked to gossip more than work, and she excitedly settled in to explain all the office politics to you.

“OK, so, Joel and Tommy run the company, they are brothers – Miller & Miller, get it?” she began, smiling brightly at you. “Tommy is SO much nicer than Joel, he is the one who schmoozes all of the new clients and signs all the new business. Joel is, well…” she trailed off, hands flailing gently, searching for an appropriate word to describe the head of the company without scaring off a new hire. “He can be challenging to work with sometimes, but don’t worry, you won’t have to work with him one-on-one. We have monthly meetings with him as a department, it’s a lot easier to handle him as a group, most of the time.”

“How do you mean, ‘challenging’?” you pressed, leaning forward, hoping to learn more about what you were getting into, not that you had much of a choice if you wanted to continue to live in the city. “Do you mean he just asks a lot of questions, or…?” Colleen picked up where you left off.

He’s mean,” she stated bluntly, smile faltering slightly. “He has made employees cry before, and he has caused people to quit on the spot during his meetings. He’s tough, but he’s the guy who goes to the job sites and makes sure everything is running smoothly. Unfortunately, that type of personality, especially from a man, on those construction sites is exactly what they need to make sure nobody is slacking off and cutting corners. They are too scared of him to screw up!” she laughed, trying to ease any nervousness she caused you.

You leaned back in your chair, gaze drifting aimlessly around her desk as you absorb what she told you. Before you could add anything further, the other girl Colleen had been chatting with earlier piped up from the adjoining cube.

“He’s an asshole. If he ever does say anything hurtful towards you, you have to just let it roll off your shoulders. That’s why Heather is so good in her position, she has to be one-on-one with him a lot, and she can handle his shit much better than most,” the redhead, whose name you saw on the outside of her cube was Debbie, gruffly interrupted. You could tell she was the opposite of Colleen – while Colleen is bubbly and sweet, Debbie seemed tougher and had an edge, although she still seemed just as friendly as she continued to help paint the picture of the mysterious Joel Miller.

“At the end of the day, you have to keep in mind we are not out here saving lives. We are working in accounting at a construction company. He gets so heated and spouts off at the mouth like this company is saving the world," Debbie finished explaining with a huff. She rolled her green eyes, crossed her arms over her chest and glared off at a fixed point on the wall beside her.

“Debbie is right, but she is just extra emotional about it because the girl in your position before had a run in with Joel, and she quit. Cheryl was Debbie’s best friend here, so she is just a little sore over it still.” Colleen tried to explain gently, without upsetting Debbie more.

Debbie nodded in agreement, sighing, she leaned forward with her elbows resting on her knees, she dragged her eyes away from the wall to look at the two of you.

"She’s right. Cheryl didn’t deserve that from him, but she did what was best for her when she quit. It happens a lot, I just thought Cheryl was used to it. She had been here 8 years!” Debbie exclaimed, throwing up her hands with frustration. 

You gulped and began to get nervous, not really sure what to say. All you could hope was that maybe you didn’t have to have one-on-one time with Joel. You just knew you needed to keep this job, or else you were packing your bags and moving back home. Your hands started fidgeting on your lap, and you chewed your bottom lip slightly as you took in the information.

“Well, thanks for the warning, girls, I will do my best to keep my head down and stay below the radar,” you chuckled quietly, hoping to ease some of the tension and change the topic.

Debbie smiled at you, a little sadly.

"That's a good plan, but since you are in receivables, Joel may put you on the spot in some of our meetings and want to know what the payment status is on specific clients of his. Heather will typically field those questions if she knows the information beforehand, but if he catches you off guard like he did with Cheryl…” she drifted off, allowing you to connect the dots on your own. “Just keep your guard up, and go into those meetings with TONS of notes on all his clients, that is the best advice I can give you. And let Heather do all the talking.” With that, Debbie scooted her chair back to her computer to get back to work.

Your eyes probably gave away your nervousness when you turned back to Colleen. She smiled warmly at you and patted you gently on the knee. “Don’t worry about it, I promise it's not as bad as it seems. Like Debbie said, Heather fields most of Joel’s questions directly. Plus, we just had our monthly meeting with him last week. You won’t have to cross paths with him for another month.” Colleen turned back to her computer and started explaining the accounting software to you.

You were really only half listening as your panic was bubbling just below the surface, replaying Debbie’s words in your head while you tried to focus on what Colleen was teaching you. You were beginning to understand why this place offered you the job so quickly, you just hoped you could be tough enough to get through those monthly meetings.

Chapter Two

[rikisniffles]

chapter fifteen[西村力] my first love was a boy ✧ NISHIMURA RIKI (NI-KI) X M!READER

SYNOPSIS — l/n y/n is a member of boynextdoor under hybe/koz. being an idol has always been y/n's dream, and ever since it became true he has been more than happy. despite being an idol, he doesn't know many other idols outside his group. when he runs into his seniors, a seemingly never-ending spiral of embarrassing moments occurs.

disclaimer !! : every idol in my stories is a character and does not always reflect the actual person (i do my best but for entertainment purposes, it may be off)

— fic masterlist / info

chapter fifteen - personal melatonin

warning: written part (1.1K), kinda angsty but not too much ni-ki just tired

You stand outside of Ni-ki's shared dorm, a plastic bag in your hand as you fidget with the other one. You have half the mind to knock politely, but you didn't want to wake up the rest of the apartment. You could text Ni-ki, but you already told him to leave the door unlocked. You internally punch yourself for overthinking. 

After some internal hyping up, you turn the door handle quietly. It was unlocked. You hold your breath as you take a peek inside.

Most of the lights were off, save for the dim hallway light. Anxiety fills you as you realize you've never been in Ni-ki's room. All the doors were closed... and you had no idea which one was his. You stand cluelessly in the hallway. Your grip on the bag tightens.

A door opens from the hallway slowly. You expect it to be Ni-ki, but it's someone shorter. 

Jay stumbles out of his room, running his fingers through his messy hair. His face contorts in confusion, standing up straight as he looks at you. He crosses his arms and leans against the door frame. 

"You okay, Y/n?" He asked, looking down at the plastic bag in your hand. 

You nod, "Where's Ni-ki's room?" 

"Uh..." He blinks, pointing down the hall, "Right there. I think he's asleep—" 

"I was just talking to him." You shrug, "Thank you." You bow, heading towards his room. 

"Hey," Jay stops you. You turn around to listen better. "Not too late, okay? We got a full schedule tomorrow." 

You nod politely, taking his words into account. He could've kicked you out, scolded you for being here so late, or got mad for waking him up. But he didn't. He knows Ni-ki is old enough to make his own decisions.

You open the bedroom door slowly, peeking your head in. You enter fully when you make eye contact with Ni-ki, who sits upright in his bed. He paused scrolling on his phone to smile at you. 

"I brought food." You hold up the plastic bag, and his face drops. 

"You didn't have to." 

"I'd feel rude if I showed up with only something for myself." You step into the room, closing the door. "Eat it or don't, save it for later." You place the bag on the small table in the middle of the room. Ni-ki stands up, rubbing his eyes and taking a seat on his small couch. 

You take the spot next to him, your legs brushing against each other. Ni-ki tells you about his day, telling you about practice and the rest of his full schedule. You reply back with your more lenient but still stressful schedule. With the whole comeback happening, you could really use a break like this. You loved your members, but being around the same six people every day could get tiring. 

Ni-ki eats about half of his food before putting his utensils down and leaning back on the couch. "You okay?" You question, mirroring his actions. 

"Tired." He rubs his eyes again.

You chuckle, reaching out to move the hair from his face. "I didn't have to come over, y'know?" 

"I didn't want to waste my free time." He leans into your touch, opening his eyes to look at you. You crumble completely under his gaze. He notices this as you take your hand away. He leans his head further into the couch and pouts, "Why'd you do that?" 

"Do what?" You respond. He sighs, his body sinking into the couch and closing his eyes. He ignored you.

"This couch is only comfortable when you're sitting..." He complains, stretching his back out as it cracks. 

“That’s because you’re a giant with a small couch.” You roll your eyes with a chuckle. 

“Don’t be mean.” He groans. His body falls against yours, leaning his weight on you. He bends to reach his head on your shoulder. It’s clear he’s not that comfortable. Despite that, he wants to be near you. 

The muffled “I missed you.” confirms this. Ni-ki thought this went unheard, not bothering to repeat himself out of embarrassment. You heard it though, looking away as heat rises to your cheeks. 

You clear your throat, “You should get some sleep.” 

“No, no—” He sits up in a panic, “I’m awake, I can turn on the playstation, or we can just sit and talk—”

“Relax!” His shoulders fall as you place a comforting but stern hand on them. He sighs again as you talk, “You just need rest, Ki. You look exhausted.” 

“I—” He pauses, “Yeah, I am.” He admits, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands. He rubs his temples with his fingers. 

He freezes when you place a hand on his back, circling it with your palm. 

“I’m tired too.” You sympathize, “I can’t get any sleep at home... Woonhak snores.” You half-joke. He does… loud. You can usually ignore it. 

Ni-ki laughs, relaxing once again under your touch, “I don’t snore... You could always stay here.” 

You remove your hand, caught off guard by the idea of a sleepover. Not just any sleepover, a sleepover proposed to you by your guy friend and hardcore crush. 

And Ni-ki lied, he does snore. 

Ni-ki was out almost instantly, like you were his personal melatonin. Like he had waited his whole life for you to just lay down next to him.

Despite your anxiety telling you to run far away from this situation, you decided to stay. Laying atop your friend's bed as stiff as a board, while he had squeezed himself closer to the wall to allow you more room. Only, it’s not easy sharing a bed made for one person with someone as tall as him. And someone who moves as much as him... 

Even though you were facing the other way, you could feel him shift behind you. His snoring you could deal with; it wasn’t as loud as Woonhaks... and you didn’t want to admit you found it kind of endearing coming from him. 

As you started drifting, a weight was placed against your waist. Your eyes shoot open in a panic as the soft weight turned to pressure around your body. You piece together your situation as your thoughts become less jumbled.

Ni-ki wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your back closer to his chest. He buries his head into your neck, inhaling sharply and then sighing against your skin. The sensation of his breath against your skin creates goosebumps as you shiver. Soon he lifts a leg over your body, completely trapping you in his grasp. 

Your heart races, feeling a bit nauseous over the situation. You had a feeling this would happen. You heard he used to cuddle people in his sleep from his hyungs, who used that fact to embarrass him. However, he claimed he no longer did that. Guess he lied about that too.

Your heart rate slows down after a few minutes of anxiety. Exhaustion overtakes any other emotion you have. You fall into sleep, completely overtaken by Ni-ki's warmth and comfort.

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— koki's note ★ ; will be posting more consistent soon, i havent wrote anything in a while so i need yall to be paitent with me... anyways enjoy this sweet little chapter. also tags still not really working i apologize ive tried everything i think im just dumb as hell

edit. also just added a tag to these that u can follow to make it easier since my tags don't wanna work. won't work as well but you'll be able to see the recent stuff in 'latest' #myfirstlovewasaboy-rikisniffles

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 10

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The reader wakes up.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of hospital care.

“So, I’m gonna make it really clear, you’re going to have your work cut out with her. She’s stubborn, a know it all, unfortunately because she does know it all, photographic memory and all that, the situations she sometimes gets herself in aren’t always great but she always and I mean always has a way out. She doesn’t eat right. Her sleep pattern is worse than a teething toddler and believe me I know” He said looking down at Nathanial in his arms, “but she is fiercely loyal, if you call her for anything, she could be having tea with a royal and she’d drop everything to save your ass or in Laura’s case so you can have a shower without a screaming child and take a nap in peace. She’ll hold you through your nightmares, be your biggest supporter and snap a guys neck if they’ve hurt you. She feels all her emotions at ten times the level we do. Sometimes that’s great, sometimes it’s really not. Now, I’m gonna ask you, don’t pursue this unless you’re sure. Please.”

“She’s our soulmate Clint, there’s no way we aren’t pursuing this.” Replied Steve.

“I know she’s your soulmate but….”

“But what?” Asked Bucky.

“She sometimes, well it’s not my place to say.”

Steve and Bucky both huffed in response. They’d been sick of those words over the last few days. When you’d gripped the bed rail and bent it right in front of them it was clear you were different in some way. Match that with carrying Pietro like you did, Steve and Bucky were sure you were like them. A super soldier.

When Helen Cho entered the room after you’d been sedated, and spoke quietly to Bruce as they set up the cradle, they didn’t miss Bruce’s whispered “accelerated healing” or the mention of having to possibly rebreak some of your bones as they’d have already have set wrong. When they asked Bruce the response was “it’s not my place to say”. The same words were uttered when Steve asked Natasha why her and Clint were her emergency contacts and next of kin.

“You know I’m sick of hearing those words.” Steve told Clint.

“You know what fine, fuck it, yes I know language in front of the baby. He’s heard worse. Natasha and Y/N are his godmothers, he probably knows the f bomb in six different languages already. Look she struggles with the whole soul mate thing.”

Bucky’s head snapped up.

“How so?” Asked Steve.

Before Clint had chance to answer you groaned from the bed, causing the three men to jump to their feet, Nathanial jostling in Clint’s arms.

“Lightsssss, bright light, bright light.” You groaned, squeezing your eyes tightly.

“Shit, I forgot, F.R.I.D.A.Y dim the lights.” Clint instructed. “Good morning you little gremlin.”

“Gremlin?” Steve asked. “Sweetheart can you hear us?”

“It’s from a movie.” Bucky answered “Don’t put it on your damn list, it’s awful. Babydoll?”

“It is not. It’s a cult piece.” Clint replied.

“Whatever. Doll, can you hear us?”

You groaned again and muttered Clint’s name. He pushed past Steve and handed him a wiggling Nathanial, squeezing your hand and stroking your face affectionately. Bucky wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Hey kid, I’m here, open your eyes, you’ve had us all worried. Laura’s even started knitting again, you know how she hates it, only does it to keep herself busy, and don’t get me started on Natasha. I thought we’d have to sedate her at one point.”

“Natty.” You replied as your eyes started to flicker open.

“She’s upstairs, probably already on her way down.”

Bucky huffed. He didn’t want everyone in here. He wanted to speak to you, hold you, take care of you, figure out how the hell you were here. You started to look around, still squinting, jumping when you saw you were in the Med Bay.

“Easy kid. You’re in the compound Med Bay. You've been out for three days.”

You started to fidget in the bed.

“Y/N, listen.” and he gently cupped your jaw, moving your face to look at him. “You’re gonna be OK kid, you scared the shit out of us all, but you’ll be OK. You’re in the compound. Only Banner and Cho have looked at you. OK?”

You nodded in reply, your eyes full of tears. Clint kissed your forehead.

“Pietro? Did he? Is he?”

“He’s alive. See?” Clint stood upright and pointed to the next room in the bay. You followed his pointing to see you were separated by a glass wall but sure enough there was Pietro. Wanda and Vision at his bedside. He waved weakly at you and you attempted to wave back.

“Careful sweetheart.” You glanced up at the voice, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Hi honey.”

Spotting baby Nathanial in his arms, you reached out and made a gesture for Steve to pass him to you.

“Gimme.”

“Y/N,” Clint said as he perched on the bed “really?”

“Baby, gimme please.” You looked up at Steve with puppy eyes, who realised he immediately had no defence against your sad face and he turned to Clint, not knowing what to do. You pushed out your bottom lip for added effect and looked back at Clint.

“Fine, but you’re gonna need to sit up a little. Clint replied, before gathering up some pillows.

You tried to push yourself up as much as possible and Bucky silently tried to help. Why were you ignoring them? Clint moved around to the side of the bed Bucky was at and placed a pillow under your arm, saying something about it being the best side as your drip was gone, before whispering to you.

“Maybe stop being a brat and acknowledge your soulmates.”

You shifted uneasily and glanced at Clint as he gave you a knowing look, before he gestured at Steve to come around with Nathanial.

“Hello.” You said quietly, not making eye contact.

“Babydoll” “Sweetheart.”

Bucky placed a kiss on your head as you side eyed him.

“Is this a good idea?” Steve asked as Nathanial wiggled in his arms some more. “You said yourself how unsettled he is.”

“Just watch.” Clint laid Nathanial in the crook of your arm, making sure the pillow took most the weight. Nathanial snuggled into you, taking out his pacifier to give you a drool filled grin.

“Hi baby.” You said softly. Nathanial snuggled down more and closed his eyes, gripping on to the blanket Clint had placed over him.

The three watched you fondly as Nathanial drifted off to sleep, as you stroked his face affectionately. Bucky and Steve both felt a lump form in their throat as they watched. Thoughts of what could have been and what could be filling their heads. White picket fences seemed so far away now but there was something about you, their soulmate, with a baby in her arms.

Clint slipped back discreetly from between the two and moved to the other side of the bed. Spotting Natasha and Bruce hurrying down the corridor he gestured for them to slow down and wait, nodding back at Steve and Bucky. Steve slipped his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky mirrored his actions in return.

“We got her back bud.”

Bucky went to speak but let out a sob instead, as tears began to run down his face. Steve pulled him into a hug. You side eyed them not really knowing what to do. Clint noticed your uncomfortableness and squeezed your hand affectionately as tears formed in your eyes. You leaned back into the pillows, shaking your head.

“It doesn’t make any sense.” You almost whispered. “I can’t be their soulmate.”

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@abaker74 @animegirlgeeky @calwitch @slowlyshycomputer @paasrin @cjand10 @otterlycanadian

[hungermakesmonsters]

Love, Sick Love

Chapter Nine

Plot summary : Working at one of the shadier bars in Brooklyn, you have one rule; don’t mess around with the patrons. Most of them are criminals, dangerous. None more so than Billy Russo, but Billy believes that rules are made to be broken. Especially your rule. One lapse in judgement is all it takes for Billy to decide that you’re his, and he’s never been the sort of man to take rejection well.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with dark and smutty themes, including but not limited to stalking. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.5k

A/N : 😅

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT

Master List

Chapter Nine

Following your eventful night out, you decided to call in sick not long after Billy had slipped out of your apartment. Sam wasn’t happy at the short notice, but when you told him it was a night off sick or risking puking on his customers he, thankfully, saw the light.

You spent most of the day in bed after eating the breakfast that Billy had made you but, eventually, managed to force yourself to shower and brush your teeth.

The whole ordeal had left you shaken up and the more time you had to think about it, the worse you felt.

Throughout the day, you had moments, flashes, where you almost felt like you could remember pieces of the night before; Billy smiling softly, holding you, stroking your hair, kissing the tip of your nose. Or maybe it had all just been part of some strange dream. Regardless, every time you thought that you half-remembered something, you felt a warmth bloom in your stomach. 

Billy had been so kind, so sweet, and it made you think of the tender way he’d kissed you, the way he’d told you that he could be gentle if that was what you wanted. Honestly, after everything that had happened, you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore.

Around midnight, you got a text from Jenna telling you that she was going to be stopping round to see you once she finished her shift. Not asking if she could, telling you that she was. You replied and told her that you were fine, that she didn’t have to, but Jenna didn’t reply.

And when Jenna didn’t reply to a text that always meant she was annoyed about something.

She arrived around two-thirty in the morning, knocking lightly on the door. You opened it for her and stepped aside to let Jenna into your apartment, eyeing the pizza box in her hand.

“You look like shit,” she said as you closed the door behind her.

“I’m fine. I think it’s just food poisoning.”

“Food poisoning? Seriously?” Jenna asked, sounding like she knew it was bullshit. She barely even looked at you as she headed for the kitchen to put the pizza box down. “Are you really gonna stand there and lie to my face like that?”

Your heart skipped several beats, not knowing what Jenna knew or how angry she was at you.

“I don’t -”

“Billy told me what happened.”

“He what?” It was your turn to sound annoyed. “He had no right to -”

“What? Tell me that my best friend was drugged and almost assaulted by some creep?” Jenna snapped. “What the fuck is wrong with you? In what world do I not need to know about something like that?”

“Almost,” you said as if the distinction really meant anything. “It almost happened but it didn’t, so I didn’t think it was worth worrying you.”

“You didn’t think -” Jenna cut herself off with a frustrated sigh. “Have you got any idea how bad it could have been if Billy hadn’t gotten to you in time?”

You fixed her with a stare, your mouth moving before your brain had a chance to catch up. “Yes, Jenna, I know exactly how bad it could have gotten.”

Then came the awful and awkward silence, the unspoken revelation hanging in the air between you. Jenna didn’t say anything which, at any other time, you might have considered a minor miracle but, at that exact moment, her silence made you feel sick.

You turned away from her, shuffling towards the kitchen to put some coffee on. And, fortunately, Jenna didn’t dare ask the obvious question.

“Since when are you and Billy so close, anyway?” You asked, barely containing your anger.

“Why? Jealous?”

The comment was a return to form, a playful bit of banter meant to diffuse the sudden tension. You knew what it was, but you chose to ignore it. You were angry, you felt betrayed by Billy and you hated being put in a position where you had to keep lying to your closest friend.

“Hardly,” you said flatly, keeping your back to her. “You can have him if you want him.”

“I’ll never understand you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You asked, finally turning back to face her.

“He saved you from being assaulted at Sam’s, he rescued you after some prick spiked your drink and then he spent all night with you making sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit, and all you do is treat him like shit,” Jenna answered.

“I’m not interested in someone who helps me because he wants to get into my pants. What - am I supposed to treat it like a transaction? He saves me so I at least owe him a blowjob?” 

“If you think it’s transactional for Billy, then you need to pay more attention,” she answered back, never being the sort to let you have the last word. “I don’t know what happened between you, but it clearly meant something to him.”

You set your jaw, some part of you desperate to tell her the truth about Billy and about what he’d put you through but you found that you couldn’t. Telling her now would only make things worse. For you and for Billy. And, despite what you’d just told her about only seeing any of Billy’s gestures as transactional, you felt he deserved a little consideration.

Besides that, from what little you could remember, you were sure that you’d seen yet another side to him last night and that morning, and part of you was still so curious about the mysterious man.

Jenna let out a sigh.

“Why did you call him?” She asked.

“What?” It took you a moment to realise that she meant Billy last night. “I - I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

Of course, you could hazard a guess. Thinking back to that night at Sam’s all those weeks ago, to the way Billy had dealt with the drunk who’d grabbed you - yeah, you could imagine wanting him to do that to the prick who spiked your drink.

“Does it really matter?” You asked a few seconds later.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Jenna shrugged. “You’re telling me you don’t care about him, but you called him instead of your best friend when you needed help. I just want to know what you were thinking.”

“I was probably thinking wow this situation is dangerous, I don’t want to drag my best friend into it.”

“You think that would have stopped me?” She sounded genuinely hurt.

“No, Jenna, I know it wouldn’t have, but I don’t ever want you getting hurt because of me.”

“That’s not your choice to make.”

“Fine,” you answered back, exasperated. “Next time someone spikes my drink, I’ll call you. Happy?”

There was a moment of silence then a snort of laughter erupted from Jenna. The sound and the sheer stupidity for what you just said soon had you laughing too.

“That’s terrible,” Jenna said through her laughter. “Don’t say things like that.”

The pair of you continued to laugh for a moment before your attention returned to the pizza box, the smell of hot cheese permeating your small apartment.

“Are you done being angry with me? Can we eat the pizza now?” You asked.

“We can eat the pizza but I haven’t decided if I’m done being angry with you.”

The pair of you sat at the small table in your kitchen, eating pizza and drinking coffee, while Jenna filled you in on what you’d missed at the bar that night - which, as it turned out, was not an awful lot. She brought Billy up a couple more times, telling you how his crew had been in but, again, Jake was noticeably absent. 

An hour and one pizza later, you offered to let Jenna stay the night and both ended up crowded into your bed like you had done countless times before.

Jenna let out a sigh, relaxing and closing her eyes. 

“Why does your bed smell like man?” She grumbled.

“Billy,” you muttered, too tired to give her anything more than that.

“He smells nice.”

“Yeah, he does...”

You both ended up giggling again before falling silent.

“I’m sorry I was angry at you,” Jenna said softly. “I just worry about you. You always keep so much to yourself all the time. That’s why I hoped that something was going on with you and Billy, so you could finally have someone you could be completely open with.”

Your heart ached at your friend's words. Over the last year you’d lied, told half-truths and flat out dodged so many questions, but you’d always assumed that you were getting away with it because she never called you out on it. All this time, she’d just been letting you hide behind your bullshit.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you -” you tried to explain.

“It’s fine, I get it,” said before trailing off into a yawn. “All I’m saying is that you’ve got people who want to care about you if you ever decide to let us in.”

You didn’t respond. Instead you shut your eyes tight and feigned sleep.

The next morning you woke up feeling much better and you were glad Jenna didn’t seem interested in carrying on the conversation from the night before. Clearly she’d said all she wanted to say and was leaving it up to you to decide whether or not you wanted to actually listen.

Jenna stayed for a coffee before leaving and seemed glad to hear that you’d be returning to work that night, even though both of you knew that you didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter; while Sam had been nice enough to give you one night off, you were pretty sure he wouldn’t have been happy with two in a row.

As you moved about your apartment, deciding to change your bedding and bundle it up ready to take to the laundromat the next time you went, you had that odd feeling like you were being watched and found yourself looking out of your window, wondering if Billy was out there. You couldn’t see him anywhere but you spent a few minutes staring out, searching for him.

The thought of him watching you should have creeped you out but, instead, you found yourself thinking about how alone you’d feel if you ever stopped feeling like he was out there.

(Maybe Jenna was right, maybe you did need someone else in your life, if only so you weren’t longing staring out the window, wondering if your stalker was watching.)

But, as it turned out, those kinds of thoughts only applied when Billy wasn’t directly in front of you.

He was there, sitting at the bar when you arrived at Sam’s that evening. Before you’d walked in, you’d told yourself that you’d be able to handle it if he happened to turn up, but you weren’t expecting to see him already sitting there, a drink in front of him as he spoke to Jenna.

She smiled at you but the moment his head lifted and he turned your way, you felt nothing but irritation. 

What had he been talking to Jenna about? You? What else had he told her that you didn’t want her to know?

While you’d sorted things out with Jenna, you were still upset that Billy had told her; he’d almost managed to win your trust that night, only to then piss it away the next. You weren’t even sure why it annoyed you so much, but it did.

You greeted Jenna on your way to get rid of your coat and purse, but completely ignored Billy until you reemerged from the back room and he dared to speak to you.

“So we’re back to the silent treatment again?” He asked, not seeming to care that Jenna was right beside you.

“Yeah, we are,” you answered back before turning your attention to Jenna. “I’ll sort the bottles for recycling.”

She wasn’t given time to so much as nod before you headed out to the back alley, needing to put some space between you and Billy before you said or did something stupid. But Billy didn’t want to give you space, he didn’t want to be ignored. And, before the back door could fall shut behind you, he was there.

“Are you gonna at least tell me what I did this time?” He asked.

You ignored him, focusing on the crates of empty bottles and starting to sort them into groups. You didn’t even look at him until you felt a hand on your wrist. Then you turned to face him, forcing out a heavy sigh, as you pulled away from his grasp.

“Fine. You want to know why I’m pissed at you, Billy? You told my best friend that I was almost assaulted and that I called you for help instead of her,” you snapped. “You made Jenna worry and you made me look like I can’t even look after myself. All you do - all you’ve done since you first showed up - is make my life harder and I’m sick of it.”

Turning, you got back to work, separating the bottles and throwing them into the correct bins.

You expected Billy to either make some blase response or slink back inside to try again later, but he did neither. He just stood there, seemingly dumbfounded for almost a minute.

“I was worried about you,” he finally said, his voice soft and full of something you didn’t want to put a name to.

You didn’t respond straight away, waiting to see if he’d explain himself, but he didn’t.

“What?” You finally prompted, turning back to him again.

“I was worried,” he repeated, sounding almost irritated at the fact. “I know that doesn’t mean anything to you but - but when I think about what could have happened to you...” there was no missing the visceral flicker of discomfort on his face. “When I think about it, I can’t breathe. I might not mean anything to you, but I think I’ve made it clear enough that you mean something to me.”

As he spoke, you could feel your heart hammering away in your chest. There was anger on his face and in his voice and part of you felt like you deserved it.

“I told Jenna because I didn’t want you to be on your own,” he continued. “I didn’t want to tell her, but I knew you’d be just as pissed if I turned up at your door. I thought you’d at least let Jenna in.”

His words and the thought behind them hit you like a ton of bricks; he’d sent Jenna because he didn’t want you to be alone, he’d been trying to look out for you.

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Billy. I don’t need you to,” you answered back.

“You think I want to? You think I want to feel like this? For things to be like this between us?” He asked, his tone turning sharper still. “I know I’ve fucked up, but you - all you’ve done is treat me like a mistake you want to forget. Worse than that, you act like I don’t even exist, that what I feel isn’t real.”

It was surprising how much his words hurt, how they managed to cut you right down to the bone because, in a way, he was right. He’d done some shitty things, concerning things, but you had basically kicked him out of your bed and started giving him the cold shoulder long before any of that. Instead of just talking to him, telling him that it had been a one night thing, you had tried to avoid him, ignore him.

And he hadn’t deserved it.

At least, not then.

What he deserved now was entirely up for debate, but you had to wonder how much of this would have happened if you’d just taken a minute to actually talk to him and tell him that it couldn’t be more than just one night. And, now, for reasons you didn’t understand, it seemed like you’d genuinely managed to hurt him.

You stayed silent, not sure what to make of any of it.

“Seriously?” He huffed after a minute of staring at you, waiting for you to say something. “You’re just gonna ignore me?”

“That’s not -” you paused, biting back the urge to snap at him, “- I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“How about the truth?”

Your gaze dropped and you let out a sigh.

“No, that’s right, you don’t like being honest, do you?”

“No, Billy, I don’t,” you admitted. “Look, I - I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you were worried, and I’m sorry I called you the other night when -”

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “Don’t you dare apologise for calling me when you needed help.”

“Fine. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t give you what you want.”

“You think that’s why I did it? You think I came to rescue you because I thought I’d get something from it?” 

You couldn’t tell if he was concerned, irritated, confused, or just disappointed.

“Then why did you?” You dared to ask.

“Because I wouldn’t let... that happen to anyone. But the thought of someone doing that to you, it...” he took a ragged breath. “I know what it’s like to have someone try to take away your control like that.”

Then he gave one of those awkward and uncomfortable shrugs, rolling his shoulder, reminding you of the scar you’d seen there weeks ago. Suddenly the implication of his words left you feeling sick.

“Someone... hurt you...” you spoke the thought aloud, your voice softening.

It didn’t change anything that he’d done to you, just like finding out about his injuries hadn’t excused his behaviour, but it did offer reasons. And, as someone who’d been hurt before, you felt nothing but a welling up of sympathy for him.

Billy shook his head as you looked at him.

“I don’t need your pity,” he said softly.

“It’s not pity, it’s just... I’m sorry.”

He dared to take a step forward, his hand cautiously reaching for your cheek. You didn’t shy away.

“You shouldn’t be sorry. I’m sorry, I keep trying to show you how I feel, and I keep fucking it up.”

You let out a sigh and dared to lean into his touch, again half-remembering tender moments that you weren’t even sure really happened, along with the tender moments that had happened. And, again, you found yourself caught up wondering what your life would be like if he suddenly wasn’t in it anymore.

“I - I wish it was as easy as just giving in to you,” you confessed, your voice betraying your exhaustion.

“Why isn’t it?” He asked and you didn’t respond. “Whatever it is you’re running from, whatever hurt you in your past, it won’t change how I feel about you.”

Your head shook. “It’s just easier like this.”

“I don’t want easy, I want you,” Billy told you.

Your heart ached at his words.

The next thing you knew, he was closing the distance between you, framing your face with his hands, about to kiss you when you felt the rough scrape of bandaging against your cheek. 

You pulled back, looking at his hand. Or, rather, the filthy scrap of fabric that was serving as a bandage. It was awkwardly wrapped around his hand and, from looking at it, you couldn’t tell if it had even been clean before he’d put it on. Gripping his wrist, you turned his hand over and felt a strange sense of irritation fill you when you noticed there was blood soaking through.

“What is this?” You asked, hating that you were suddenly concerned.

How did he always manage to do that to you; have you feeling so many different emotions in quick succession? In the space of a five minute conversation you’d gone from anger to shame to sympathy to - whatever it was you’d been feeling only seconds ago. And, then, you went straight back to anger.

This was why you couldn’t be with a guy like Billy. This was why you didn’t date the customers. Whatever he was into, it was dangerous and it was liable to get him killed. And, for all his many faults, you didn’t want anything to happen to him. You didn’t want to open yourself to the thought of actually caring about him, only to lose him.

“It’s nothing,” he told you, leaning in again, wanting the kiss that you’d denied him.

“It’s not nothing,” you said, frustrated by his indifference. “Do you really expect me to just stand here while you paw at me with a bloody hand?”

“I wasn’t -”

You pulled away from him and started to move towards the door.

“Come with me.”

“Why, kitten, are -”

“Now, Billy.”

All you had to do was turn and glare to get him to follow you as you headed back inside. Rather than leading Billy back out towards the bar you showed him into the back room, instructing him to sit at the table while you went to find the first aid kit. He sat in silence, looking like a frightened school boy about to get detention.

It was a small room with a little more than a table, a couple of chairs and a small kitchenette, with nothing of any importance save for the industrial dishwasher for all the bar’s glasses and, for the most part, it was just used as a break room and a place to leave coats.

Moments later you sat opposite him, holding out your hand expectantly until he let you look at his injuries. Slowly, tenderly, you unwrapped his hand, and inhaled sharply at the mess of bloody and broken skin. It looked as if he’d tried to break down a brick wall with his bare hand.

“Jesus, Billy.”

“You should see the other guy,” he offered with a weak smile.

“Did you even clean this?” You asked, ignoring his comment, not wanting to think about what he must have been doing to cause so much damage to his hand. When he didn’t answer, you sighed. “You realise this could get infected, right?”

“I’ve survived worse.”

“Really?” You snapped, unamused. “I’ve seen your scars, Billy. I’m pretty sure none of those injuries were left to fester.”

“It’s not - fuck!”

You cut him off by pressing an alcohol wipe to his split and bleeding knuckles, and set him with an unamused look as he winced and tried to pull his hand from your grasp.

“You were saying?” You joked. His silence would have filled you with a smug satisfaction if it hadn’t been for the way his face seemed to suddenly pale. “Why did you leave it like this?”

“I don’t -” he sighed, flinching again as you dabbed his split skin with the wipe. “- I don’t know. I guess I’m mostly used to pain now and it was easier to just wrap it up and not think about it.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I don’t think that’s news to either of us, kitten” he said.

It was a joke, but there was something delicate in his tone, something you didn’t want to risk breaking with a laugh. Instead, you focused on his hand, going through five alcohol wipes before you were happy that his wounds were finally clean. You lightly pressed some gauze over his knuckles before bandaging his hand. And, once it was wrapped, you found yourself holding onto him, looking him in the eye for a moment before slowly pulling away.

You got to your feet and Billy did the same.

“Now, can we finish what we started outside?” He asked, his voice soft but still somehow managing to shatter the air of calm you’d managed to cultivate around yourself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, packing away the first aid kit.

He reached out as he closed the distance between you, his good hand finding your shoulder and turning you to face him. Before you could stop to think about what was happening, his lips were on yours and his tongue was licking into your mouth. Your hands rose to fund his chest but, instead of pushing him away you found yourself gripping the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer.

For a few wonderful minutes you managed to lose yourself to him, forgetting your irritation and all the reasons you knew that you couldn’t lead him on. But, when a particularly loud laugh filtered in from the bar, you finally managed to draw back

“Billy -”

“Don’t,” he said softly, practically pleading, not drawing back or giving you any space.

You turned away from him, but Billy refused to take the hint, stepping closer still, until you found yourself braced against the table. One hand gripped your hip while his bandaged hand pressed against your stomach, pulling you back so you could feel the way his cock was already straining in his pants. Your breath caught as he pressed his lips to your neck, trailing warm, wet kisses over your skin.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” you told him, trying desperately to keep your voice from hitching. 

Billy didn’t answer, save for a grumble in the back of his throat.

The hand on your hip moved and you weren’t sure what he was doing until you felt him lift your skirt up at the back. Before you could object, he pressed closer to you, forcing you to bend over the table.

You knew that you could pull away any time you wanted to, but you didn’t. You didn’t move, didn’t try to stop him. Not even when you heard him unzip his pants and felt him guide his cock into your panties, the length of him trailing through your arousal. All you did was squeeze your thighs together when you felt the tip of his cock nudge your entrance.

“I told you -”

“Fine. I won’t fuck you,” he told you.

Biting down on your lip, you barely held back a moan as he moved again, grinding the length of his cock through your folds. Every time he moved, you felt the ridge of his cock rub up against your clit, and your cheeks started to heat as you felt your body start to react to him, your core growing hot and wet for him.

“You’re getting awfully wet for someone who doesn’t want to fuck, kitten,” he muttered, leaning over you so his lips were against your ear.

“Shut up,” you groaned, your back pressing against his chest.

“Is that shut up and stop, or…” he said, stilling for a second.

“It’s just shut up.” 

Your fingers splayed as your hands pressed against the table, bracing yourself against his movements as they started up again. After a few moments, his bandaged hand moved up your body, stopping briefly to palm your breast through your tank top before ending up on your throat.

He didn’t squeeze - he didn’t have to, his bandaged hand on your throat was enough to signal that he was in control.

Your thighs squeezed tighter around his cock and you leaned a little more so the length of his cock rubbed against your clit with every move of his hips. It wasn’t long before you were moving with him, pressing back against him, seeking more friction. It felt like your clit was throbbing, desperate for more, for anything and everything he wanted to give you. 

You bit down harder on your lip. Trying to hold back the sounds that wanted to escape you, not wanting a whole bar full of people to overhear you. After a few moments, his bandaged hand gave a testing squeeze against your throat, and his hips started to pick up the pace.

His good hand slipped beneath your top, gripping your breast and tugging your stiff nipple between his fingers, while his lips latched to your shoulder, kissing and sucking marks into your skin, branding you, claiming you. And you were letting him. Despite everything telling you that this was a stupid idea, it felt too good to stop.

The hand on your throat squeezed tighter, not enough to choke but enough to make you feel as though you were completely at his mercy, letting out little gasps every time you drew breath. You knew that you shouldn’t be letting it happen, that you shouldn’t want it, but you did

You came moments before he did, trembling so much that you didn’t notice that he was coming in your panties until you heard him let out a grunt. You cringed as he pulled back and you felt wet fabric cling to your skin and cum run down your thighs.

His hand dipped under your skirt, pressing the wet lace against your trembling skin, rubbing his cum into your folds through the soaked fabric.

“You’re disgusting,” you groaned, knocking away his hand and turning back towards him as he finally pulled away.

“You enjoyed it, so what does that make you, kitten?” He asked with that smug grin on his face as he tucked his cock back into his pants.

“Are you gonna enjoy knowing that I’m spending the rest of my shift without panties?” You asked and watched his gaze darken instantly.

“You’re keeping those panties on,” he told you in a certain tone, not finding any humour in your comment.

“Or what?”

“Or at closing time I’m gonna bend you over the bar and spank you so hard you won’t be able to walk home,” he threatened, the controlling and dominant side of Billy quickly taking over. “I’ll be checking at the end of your shift.”

The sudden shift in him had you squirming and taking a step back. And Billy noticed. You watched as he shook his head, trying to force away the part of himself that unsettled you, that scared you.

“Just... just don’t take them off, okay?” He finally said. The words came out awkward and stilted, like the very idea of you removing your panties and going back to work rattled something deep inside of him.

“I can’t just -”

“Okay, listen I don’t want to break up whatever you two are doing but -” Jenna said, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as she pushed open the door as if she didn’t want to see anything she might regret, “- it’s getting real fucking busy out there and I need some help.”

An awkward laugh spilled out of you at the utter ridiculousness of everything that was happening and how, if she’d come looking for you only a minute earlier, she would have caught you in a very compromising position.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” you said, “I was just bandaging Billy’s hand for him.”

“She’s a pretty decent nurse,” Billy confirmed.

“Well, I don’t need a nurse, I need a bartender,” Jenna said.

That got you moving, ignoring the look that Jenna shot you as Billy left and headed back out to the bar.

“Just bandaging his hand?” She muttered with a sly smile.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your wet panties stuck to you as you walked past her. Jenna struggled to bite back a laugh and you felt your cheeks heat. 

The bar was getting busy and it was almost enough to take your mind off of everything that had happened. Almost. But, with Billy there, it was impossible.

You caught the smirk on his lips as you walked by, unable to hide your discomfort as the wet fabric clung to you. But with the shame and discomfort came something else, another feeling, something you didn’t want to admit to. Arousal. And, just like that, Billy had you feeling conflicted again, knowing you should be disgusted but finding that you couldn’t.

About forty minutes before last call, Billy’s whole crew started heading for the door, like they suddenly had somewhere to bed despite it being the middle of the night. Before Billy left, he caught you by the arm and turned you towards him.

“Call me when you get home,”  he told you. An instruction, not a question.

“Uh-huh, yeah, I’ll be sure to do that,” you answered sarcastically, as you tried to pull away from him.

Billy’s grip tightened, not letting you walk away.

“I mean it,” he said, watching you rolling your eyes. “You can either call me or I can stop by your apartment again.”

The threat was allowed to hang in the air between you. Part of you wanted to act defiant, to tell him no, but you knew well enough that he wasn’t joking and, after everything that had happened, you didn’t want him showing up at your apartment.

“Fine,” you relented.

“And I want proof that you still have those panties on at the end of your shift,” he said, keeping his voice low but firm, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Fine,” you repeated, just wanting him to walk away.

Without warning, he leaned in, pressing his lips to your cheek. Then he was gone.

End Note : I think this chapter speaks for itself 😅. Place your bets on how Billy hurt his hand (as if we don't already know)

As always your comments/likes/reblogs/asks/general screaming is always cherished and appreciated. I hope you all have an amazing weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt (and on AO3 at some point in the hours after).

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[milkpup]

｡⋆ʚ♡ like father, like son

›› chapter 3 ›› nsfw 18+ ongoing multi-chapter fic!

art by @g00miato (PLS GO CHECK OUT THEIR PROFILE OMGGGGG PLS IT'S SO GOOD)

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ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› toji fushiguro x reader ›› megumi fushiguro x reader ›› toji x reader x megumi (mfm) ›› 18+ f!reader ›› started: 12/6/23 : updated: 1/29/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are best friends. You've known eachother for almost your whole life. His home has become your second home. As time passes and life happens, Megumi slowly develops feelings for you, even though he's unaware of it. To complicate things further, you're now living with him and his father, who has also taken a liking to you.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, power imbalance, pseudo-incest (they both want y/n, nothing w/ eachother), dubious consent

‹𝟹 tags: good cop bad cop, fluff, smut, angst, toji has a big dick, dilf toji, toji is his own warning, toji tries to be a good parent, toji is an asshole, toji is trying okay?, daddy dom toji, daddy kink, porn with feelings, porn with plot, friends to lovers, spit / spitting, spit kink, spit as lube, breeding, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, double vaginal pen, double pen, anal, making out, making love, love triangles, praise kink, degradation, light masochism, light sadism, emotional sex, cuckolding, jealousy, jealousy kink, smoking, smoking kink, emotional manipulation, manipulation, polyamory?, father and son share you, protective megumi fushiguro, megumi needs a hug, megumi has a big dick, AGED UP CHARACTERS, dead dove: do not eat, finger sucking, large cock, cum swallowing, blow jobs, first time blow jobs, under desk blow jobs, fingerfucking, face sitting, face riding, 69, mutual masturbation, threesome mfm, lots of smut, loss of virginity

‹𝟹 notes: ch 5 is in the works, it's just taking me awhile bc i have a naoya fic i'm fixated on rn x-x enjoy!

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Chapter 3: Innocence

--

Toji leaned against the balcony railing, smoking a cigarette. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “What the fuck were these idiots up to?” He questions himself, thinking back on what he just witnessed.

You and Megumi, in your bed, asleep. This is normally of no concern to him, you both grew up together, often having sleepovers in each other’s rooms. But this time… it was different. Why were there clothes strewn about the floor? Why was he wrapping his arm against you, pressed against your naked form?

All these thoughts were plaguing his already troubled mind. But the most problematic thought came to him overbearingly: Why am I hard?

His large cock was straining against his sweatpants, making it unbearably hard to think clearly and rationally. He felt guilty. Guilty for thinking of you that way, for tarnishing his relationship with you, and for letting his mind wander about what you and his son did. As much as it stung his heart, his body was heating up. His cock begged to be released from its clothed prison.

He took another long drag of his cigarette. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Y/N is undeniably attractive, kind, and intelligent. Any man that didn’t fall for her would be a fool. He felt a twinge of jealousy as he thought about Megumi getting to you first.

But jealousy was not the only emotion that consumed him. He put out the cigarette and went back inside his room, sliding the balcony door shut.

He walks towards his shower in the adjacent bathroom, stripping as he’s walking towards the bathroom entrance. His large cock is fully exposed, and he’s about to go fuck his fists at the thought of you and his son.

He knows it’s wrong to already think of you in this way, but he doesn’t care. He’s a man who is a slave to his desires, no rationality could bring him back in the heat of the moment. He didn’t feel too guilty though, it’s not like he was doing anything with you. He was just thinking about you. That’s fine, right? I’d never touch her. What’s wrong with a little fantasy though?

The water is almost scalding hot. He turns it down slightly and steps inside. Toji wishes it was you here instead of his hand, but he’s unsure if he would cross that line.

His back is facing the water, his forearm is against the wall of the shower. He’s leaning on it for support as he fucks his hand, thinking about how beautiful you look, how your body is such a fucking tease, how Megumi gets to be close to you but not him.

He grunts, picking up speed. He doesn’t mind sharing you, but he wants to be your first. He’s jerking his cock praying to God that Megumi hadn’t taken that part of you yet. He wants it to be his.

He licks his lips, he’s going down the rabbit hole and losing his morality. If my son can have you, why can’t I? I can please her better, and I honestly deserve it.

He pumps his cock more, thinking about how you owe it to him after all. He took you in, fed you, clothed you, basically raised you… he’s thinking of collecting his debt now. While Toji tries his best to be a generally amiable guy, he can’t fully suppress his innate urge to be an asshole. He loves you, but maybe not in the way he should.

He moans, nearing the edge of his pleasure. “My sweet Y/N, fuck..ahh” He can’t even finish a sentence, cumming at the thought of taking what’s rightfully his, and maybe letting Megumi watch just for the thrill of it.

He turns around and lets the water wash away his sinful thoughts and actions, and finishes cleaning up.

It’s Friday night, but a little too late to go out and do anything. Tomorrow, he wants to take you out.

--

 Megumi wakes up earlier than you. He’s usually an early riser, but this time he was grateful he could look at the soft features on your face while you’re asleep. He would be way too embarrassed to watch you as intently if you were awake, he’s blushing even while you’re asleep. He doesn’t mean it in a creepy way at all, he just admires how beautiful and peaceful you seem while asleep.

You yawn and shift in the bed, and Megumi uses this as his cue that he should probably leave. He kisses you on your forehead, gets up and dresses himself, and silently lets himself out of your room.

He walks towards the living room, passing by his father’s room on the way. Toji isn’t in there, and Megumi finds him sifting through items in cupboards and in the fridge in the kitchen.

Toji is cursing himself silently, upset that he doesn’t have all the required ingredients to surprise Y/N with breakfast. Toji isn’t categorically an asshole, he wants to do nice things to spoil you but doesn’t know how. He figures this is a good idea since you usually take care of meals. He’s upset because now he has to waste time getting the ingredients, but he knows you like to sleep in on the weekends anyways.

Toji turns around and sees Megumi approaching the kitchen. “Oh hey, Megumi. Do you think Y/N would like omelettes or waffles more for breakfast? I’m trying to help her out a bit.” He smirks a bit.

“Probably waffles. I think she’s more of a sweet person.” Megumi replies, unsure why Toji even cares enough in the first place. I mean, Toji used to live off of takeout and instant food. Why is he suddenly interested in cooking? Megumi brushes it off. He doesn’t care that much anyways.

Megumi yawns as he walks towards the counter where the coffee pot is located. He starts brewing coffee as Toji moves towards the front door, grabbing his keys on the way out.

--

Toji returns, bags of food in hand as Megumi sips on his black coffee. He works his way to the kitchen, setting down the bags and begins to unpack them. He has to rush if he wants to make the food look presentable enough for you.

Megumi silently watches his father hastily beating eggs and flour together to make a batter. He notices so much effort on Toji’s part, it’s unsettling.

--

You wake to find the other side of your bed is empty, a little bit sad at the thought that Megumi got up before you. You yawn, slip out of bed, and pick out something to get dressed in. You still need to shower, since you passed out after... that.

Your face flushes immediately as the thoughts of last evening come flooding back to you. Heat pools between your legs, remembering the feel of his touch against your body.

You ignore your uninvited thoughts as you make your way to the bathroom to clean up a bit. You’ll shower after breakfast though. Fuck, I hope they’re not waiting for me to make something for them. I definitely slept in a little late. You rush to finish getting ready and exit the bathroom.

Your cinnamoroll slippers flop as you make your way to the kitchen, stifling a tiny yawn. You smell something cooking, but Megumi is sitting on the couch watching something. So that means, Toji is cooking?

He notices the soft patter of your footsteps and turns around as he finished putting the last of the batter in the waffle maker. He grins, “Good morning, Y/N. I figured I’d help you out this morning so you could sleep in. You must have been tired.”

He knows exactly why you’re tired, he’s teasing you at this point. You blush at his comments, “Good morning, Toji.” You sit down at the table beside you. “It smells delicious. Thank you Toji, I really appreciate it,” You add as you’re looking up at him with your half-lidded sleepy eyes, softly smiling.

Toji’s heart skips a beat seeing your precious smile when you’re still tired. He walks over and sets down the food, calling Megumi over.

You set a waffle on your plate, adding syrup and strawberries on top. It smells delicious, and you can’t wait to try it. You take a bite, and, it’s not that good. The toppings add flavor, but he could’ve added vanilla extract or more sweetness to the batter itself. Nonetheless, you eat it with a smile on your face. “It’s really good, Toji. Thank you!”

Megumi takes a bite. If you say it’s delicious, then it must be right. As soon as he tastes the overwhelming intensity of mediocrity and flavorlessness. “Tch.” He clicks his tongue. It’s not that good, and she’s definitely lying to him. Why?

Toji smirks at your compliments. He’s glad he made you happy. He gets up to start cleaning the table and kitchen, and you follow suit. Megumi is uninterested and returns to the living room, putting on some random, boring show.

“Thank you Toji, it was good. I was worried since I slept in late that I left you all hanging,” you chuckle out.

Toji is washing dishes beside you, as you’re picking them up and drying them. “You’re welcome, Y/N. Anything for you.” He looks over at your flustered face and smiles.

You get caught up looking at his adorable grin and reach over to grab the next plate to be dried. Instead, you make contact with his soapy hand instead. You linger for a little too long, hyperaware of the small touch you just made. You’re embarrassed and pull away. “S-sorry…” You manage to stumble out, blushing and looking away.

“Don’t be, doll .” He eyes you up and down, smirking. She’s so fucking hot, and innocent too. It’s almost too easy.

Megumi overhears chatter and catches you a blushing mess in front of his father. He can see the way Toji observes you, like a predator waiting to pounce on its prey. Why am I uncomfortable? Am I jealous? Of my own father? I mean, we just had an amazing night together, why should I be jealous? His heart was pounding, feeling suddenly possessive over someone that wasn’t even his. The loudest thought roaring through his mind, however, was the most disturbing. Why am I hard?  He clenched his fists and grit his teeth. This should not be happening.

You finish cleaning up with Toji, when he gently grabs your wrist and looks at you. “Let’s go out together. We need more stuff for the house.”

You already knew this and were planning your usual errands for later today. You look up at Toji and nod, “Sounds good. I’m going to shower and get ready first.”

He releases the soft grip on your wrist, and you walk away towards the bathroom. He licks his lips as he watches your womanly figure recede from vision. He can’t stop looking at the way your shorts hug your hips and ass as you walk away. He grins mischievously and thinks to himself: I can’t wait to get all of that later.

--

‹𝟹 notes: ch 4 is on my ao3, i'll be posting it to tumblr shortly! lmk what y'all think!!!!

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