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athenamikaelson · 1 day ago

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Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 26

Word Count- 4.8k

Warnings- ARSON, swearing, mentions of sex and threesomes

“Wait so Theo tried giving my brothers the sex talk?”

I tighten my jacket as I cringe at Rebekah’s question. The blonde original walks beside me past construction workers and townspeople as we make our way over to Wickey Bridge.

“I wish I was joking. He’s so corny.”

Rebekah lets out a chuckle, “And let me guess, my brothers sat down and listened.”

I let out a sigh, “Every second of it.”

“What happened after you kicked Theo out?”

I frown as I recall last night, “Nothing. Like… literally nothing. Theo went to his room and then Klaus and Elijah stood up and then Elijah wished me a good night, and then they just left,” I raise my hands in defeat and Rebekah rolls her eyes.

“Well what did you want to happen,” I close my mouth as I hear Rebekah’s tone and see the smirk on her face.

“Nothing…shut up.”

Rebekah shakes her head, “Then you have nothing to complain about,” She eyes me, “Right?”

I eye her back and nod, “Yep. Nothing at all.”

Rebekah rolls her eyes at me and mutters something quietly under her breath before wrapping her arm in mine and dragging me toward Carol Lockwood.

“Why are we here anyways,” I shake slightly as a brush of wind hits my face, “It’s cold. And there’s too many people here.”

“I told you in the car, I need some information. We’ll leave as soon as I get it.”

Rebekah leads us to Carol who plasters a huge fake smile as soon as she sees the Original and it slightly dampers when his eyes meet mine and I fight the urge to roll my own.

“Rebekah and…Y/n,” Her tone tightens as she says my name, “What a pleasure you’re both here! How can I help you?”

Before Rebekah can respond I spot a refreshments table and untangle my arm from Bekah’s. She frowns at me but when I point towards the drinks she nods, going back to talk to Carol.

I’d rather lobotomize myself than have a conversation with that woman.

—

I blow out a breath as I nurse the styrofoam cup filled with cocoa in my hands. The warmth momentarily giving my hands some much-needed heat.

“Pukey, you hear with Barbie Klaus I presume?”

I turn around and my eyes meet Damon’s blue ones.

“Sadly, yes.”

My attention strays to a pretty red-headed woman who stands beside him, an amused smile comes over her face as she gives me a once over.

“Pukey?”

“It’s Y/n.”

She blinks as she hears my name and something momentarily shifts in her gaze, and then her smile turns into a small smirk that unsettles me.

She reaches out her hand for me to shake but Damon pushes it down.

“Touching is a big no-go for Pukey,” He says and I fight back a small smile.

I turn my gaze back to the woman, “And your name?”

She smiles, “Sage. My name is Sage.”

No way. Not possible. Too easy. This can’t be Sage Sage. Finn’s Sage?!

“Rightttt,” I twiddle my thumbs trying to act casual, “And um how exactly do you know Damon?” “He used to be a student of mine.”

Damon smirks, “A longgggg time ago.”

Be casual Y/n. CASUAL.

“How old are you?”

Sage raises an amused brow, “Hasn’t anyone ever told you you should never ask a woman her age.”

“Well, I think that only applies to women who actually age,” I mutter and I see Damon roll his eyes.

“I’m a little over 900 years old. But, who's counting,” Her response has my stomach flipping and I’m fighting the urge to test if I can do a backflip. IT IS HER.

I mean it’s got to be, right? There can’t be that many 900-year-old vampires named Sage.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Our attention is turned toward Bekah who joins us. An annoyed look is plastered on her face as she stares at Sage.

“Easy there Rebekah,” Damon chides, “She used to beat men for sport.”

“That’s a hobby I need to get into,” I remark and Sage sends me a smirk.

“She always was quite common,” Rebekah says. Oh yikes.

“Rebekah, what a happy surprise,” Sage responds.

“What are you doing here, Sage?”

“Well, I hear Finn was finally freed from that casket your rageaholic brother Klaus carted him around in.”

Ohhh. Yet another fan of my man.

“I wouldn’t be too harsh on my brother in front of Y/n here. I’ve heard soulmates have a tendency to get quite prickly when their other half is insulted. Not that you’d know,” Rebekah smirks, and I cringe and silently curse at her as everyone’s attentions go to me.

“I thought your name sounded familiar,” Sage eyes me and within a second Damon positions himself in front of me.

“Touching Pukey is a death sentence, Sage. I would advise against it,” Damon eyes the woman and she rolls her own.

“I’m not stupid enough to do that. But let’s be serious Damon I taught you everything you know. You can’t beat me.”

I position myself so I can see Damon’s face, “Oh, it’s not me you should be worried about. Yes, Pukey here is under my protection, but I’m not the one who would torture you until you're begging for your death. That falls upon…well let’s see,” He picks up his hand and starts counting on his fingers, “Klaus “The Great Evil” Mikeaelson, his noble brother Elijah, the annoying one Kol, Barbie over here, and last but not least your boy toy Finn. Along with all the other supernaturals of Mystic Falls.”

Sage looks from Damon to Bekah who just nods in agreement, “I hate to agree with the bastard but he’s telling the truth. Going against Y/n is going against the Mikaelsons.”

Sage clears her throat, “Well it’s a good thing I mean her no harm then.”

“Yep…sure is,” I mutter.

“Now where can I find Finn?”

“Probably somewhere forgetting all about you,” Rebekah remarks and then reaches over and wraps her arm in mind, “Come, I’ll buy us lunch.”

Before Bekah can fully pull me away I lean towards Sage, “Have Damon give you my number and I can help you.”

Sage’s eyebrows furrow but she still nods.

—

Well, that was a bust.

Rebekah canceled our lunch once she got into the car. After talking to Damon and Sage, Rebekah told me she had forgotten her coat and would meet me back at her car. But when she came back 10 minutes later she was more annoyed and volatile than usual, muttering something about Damon being a dick and other profanities. She apologized to me and said she’d have to rain-check our lunch date to a time when she didn’t feel like murdering everyone around her. I told her not to worry about it and that I wasn’t hungry.

I lied. I’m fucking starving and now I’m home looking at a bare fridge since my mother hasn’t gone grocery shopping in however long. I don’t want to have to go out and get something but at this point, it’s either go and deal with people at the grocery store or starve.

Starving might be better.

I grab my keys though when I realize that Theo still needs to eat dinner. I fling open the front door and- FUCK!

“Fuck me!”

“I’ve been trying, Luv.”

My eyes narrow and my cheeks warm as I stare at Klaus who is watching me with a soft smirk.

“What the hell are you doing here,” I huff out and clutch my chest.

“Well, it’s good to see you as well,” The hybrid replies sarcastically.

I give him a deadpan look and he rolls his eyes.

“My dear sister told me she had to cancel lunch with you so I thought I would ask you if you would accompany me instead.”

I feel a small smile make its way onto my face, “Are you asking me on a date?”

Klaus eyes me for a moment before turning his attention to the chipping white paint of the front door frame.

“I suppose.”

“Damn, don’t sound too excited,” I mutter sarcastically.

Klaus huffs and looks back at me, “That’s not what I…I just meant that” A look of frustration comes over his face while I watch in amusement.

“For being as old as you are you would think you’d be better at this whole date thing,” I smirk at him.

“Well none of the ones before ever mattered the way you do,” Klaus seems to respond without thinking.

I wring my hands and Klaus and I eye each other for a moment before I look away.

“Well, sadly I can’t go out for lunch since my fantastic mother seems to have forgotten to get any groceries for our house. Which means once again I have to go out and get them myself.”

A wave of sadness washes over me and I look to see Klaus’ shoulders drop slightly.

` “But…if you want to come,” I point towards my car, “Shopping with me. I could always have your super strength carry the bags.”

I doubt a one-thousand-year-old hybrid wants to spend his afternoon grocery shopping when he has enemies to fight and-

“I’ll come.”

—

“Princess, I’m immortal and yet with the way you’re driving I fear for my life,” Klaus’ voice comes out sarcastically but with the way I can see him frantically eyeing the road from his position in the passenger seat, I don’t think he’s joking.

I press my foot on the gas as I pass an old woman in a red Ford, “You’re being dramatic. Look we’re here.”

Forgetting my blinker, I whip my car into the small grocery store parking lot and slam it into park.

“See we’re here,” I turn to smile at Klaus but I find him staring wide-eyed at me.

“Is this how you drive all the time?”

I shrug, take the keys out of the ignition, and open my door, “I’ve got places to be, why would I wait in traffic?”

Klaus gets out of the car as well and meets me at the trunk as we begin to walk into the small grocery store, “You passed 4 cars in a 10-minute drive.”

“They were going too slow.”

“You were going 20 over the speed limit,” Klaus’ frustrated voice makes me laugh.

Klaus is quiet for a moment as we reach the automatic door. I turn to him and question and it takes him a second to snap out of whatever stupor he was in.

“What was that all about,” I ask as I grab a cart and lean the front of my body on it.

“Nothing,” Klaus denies as we pass an elderly couple arguing over bananas, “I just don’t get to hear your laugh very often.”

I shrug and smirk at him as we approach the produce section, “Ever think it might just be because you’re not as funny as you think you are?”

“Nope,” Klaus says as he grabs a produce bag and hands it to me.

“Of course not.”

` The bickering couple and the overhead music of an old pop song are the only things heard as I put different fruits and vegetables into plastic bags as Klaus follows behind me. Every time one of my bags gets full Klaus is right there with another. I stare at the cart momentarily and nod.

“I think that's all for produce,” Klaus walks beside me, looks down at the cart, and nods as well.

“What next?”

I stop for a moment and look up at the man everyone else in this town is terrified of and laugh under my breath before turning back towards the cart, pushing it towards the dairy section.

“What was that,” Klaus points a finger at me.

“I just find this funny,” I say simply.

“Find what funny?”

“You,” I grab a gallon of milk when we hit the aisle, “Being here. Grocery shopping. Everyone else in this town is probably trying to plan your demise and here you are shopping for 2% Low-fat milk,” I say as I put the milk in the cart.

“Well, personally I prefer 1%,” His sarcastic reply has me shaking my head, “And yes I know your little friends our out there planning my great demise but…until my death is imminent, which it isn’t if domestic shopping is what you and I do together than,” He grabs a bottle of $3 wine off the shelf and glances at it for a moment before cringing in disgust and putting it back, “Than that’s what we shall do.”

I think about his words as we walk through the store and grab other items, from cereal to pasta, and random snacks, and from time to time, Klaus will throw in his own items.

I lift on my tip toes as I try to grab the sauce can that is on the very top shelf. I hear Klaus mutter a laugh from behind me before I feel his hand place itself on my upper waist to move me out of the way.

“Is it really that hard for you to ask for help,” He comments as he grabs the can with ease and places it into the cart.

“Yes.”

Klaus rolls his eyes but the ghost of a smile on his lips tells me he was already certain of what my answer would be.

I turn back towards the cart and sigh, “I think that’s it.”

Klaus nods and follows behind me as we walk towards the checkout line.

—

“Oh come on, Theo!”

I growl and Klaus, who is putting all the groceries from the cart and onto the checkout stand instantly looks up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Theo just asked me to get his stupid gummy worms,” I look at the cashier clerk, who is slowly ringing in each item, and then look to Klaus.

“Can you-”

“Go,” Is all he says and I’m running towards the candy aisle to find Theo’s stupid ass gummies.

After way too long I find them squished in between some chocolate and peanuts and run back towards the checkout line where the clerk is giving Klaus a dirty look, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.

I look at all our bagged groceries and swear under my breath, giving the gummies to the clerk.

“Sorry for the hold-up,” I apologize and I hear a scratchy laugh from behind me.

I turn to see the old woman and man from before waiting in line behind us. She smiles thoughtfully as she leans towards me.

“You’ve got a good man here,” She points to Klaus who is clearly pretending not to eavesdrop, “She kept telling him he had to pay and you’d just have to go back at the end of the line but he wouldn’t budge.”

I turn to look at Klaus but frown when I see him swipe his card through the reader.

“Dude!”

Klaus punches in his pin and just shrugs, “You’re friend over there is still talking to you.”

“He even pays for you,” I turn back to the woman who is looking dreamily at Klaus and if she were 50 years younger I’d probably fight her for looking at him that way. Might still now.

“I have to drag my old bastard here by the ear just to get him up in the morning, let alone to the store with me,” She points to the man beside her who rolls his eyes before placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Love you too, My Everly,” The man says as he puts their groceries on the stand. And even though the woman tries to play it tough the look of love and admiration she has in her eyes gives her true feelings away.

“Married for 47 years and he still knows how to get on every one of my nerves,” She mutters lovingly, “Make sure to keep that one though. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a man look at a woman the way he does to you. When you have something like that child, grab it and don’t let go. And it helps that he’s quite easy on the eyes.”

I nod and bid her goodbye. I turn to Klaus who is waiting by the entrance of the store with our bagged groceries and a knowing look on his face.

“Have a good chat?”

“Oh shut up,” I mutter as I punch him in the shoulder.

“I am easy on the eyes aren’t I?”

Klaus smirks to himself while sighing, “You Mikaelsons need to work on your egos. I swear to God.”

“All of our egos are very much healthy and intact, thank you very much.”

“Ya…that’s the problem.”

—

“Cans go in that shelf over there, Klaus,” I point to the middle shelf right in front of Klaus and he nods, putting the cans of vegetables into the cabinet.

We got back home 20 minutes ago and after Klaus helped me lug all the groceries in, the ones he paid for, he then just started unloading them and placing them into cabinets and the fridge. It’s been almost comical to watch Klaus’ tall frame try to maneuver around in my tiny kitchen, but somehow he’s managed.

“Remind me to buy you a bigger house,” I hear him mutter and I laugh.

“Yes, please do. And make sure it has a big ass library,” I point at him, “Oh! And I want one of those built-in window chairs, so I can read while seeing the stars at night,” I nod at him jokingly but as I stare at the look on his face I freeze.

“That was a joke, Klaus. I know what you’re thinking,” I put my finger in his face and he gives me an innocent look, “Don’t you dare buy me a house. I’ve come to learn how you Mikaelsons like to throw your money around and I don’t want any part of it.”

Klaus gives me an upside-down smile and nods.

“Oh! That reminds me,” I grab the last grocery bag and start dumping out the contents, “Remind me to give your brother back the expensive ass jewelry he gave me for the ball.”

Klaus grabs a loaf of bread and places it in the bread box, “Good luck with that, Luv. My brother can be more stubborn than I am when it comes to you.”

I put a hand on my hip, “Elijah? Stubborn? I highly doubt that.”

The kitchen is quiet for a moment before a loud laugh comes out of Klaus’ mouth. I pause what I’m doing and find myself smiling as I watch the pretty man in front of me.

“Luv,” Klaus manages to get out between laughs, “The only reason you haven’t seen that side of my older brother is because he hasn’t let you…or really doesn’t want you to see that side of him. Don’t get me wrong, Elijah is noble,” Klaus rolls his eyes, “Annoyingly so. But he is also the pettiest being I have come across in over a thousand years. There is no one I know that will play dirtier than him when it comes to protecting the people he cares about. And you luv,” Klaus takes a step closer to me so he can reach out to grab a piece of my hair and twirl it between his fingers, “Are at the top of his list of loved ones.”

—-

“Well this was almost not horrible,” I tell Klaus as I walk him to the front door.

Klaus snorts sarcastically, “And that was almost a compliment. You and I are making great progress.”

I roll my eyes and open the door for him and his smirk drops, “But in all honesty, Y/n… I-,” Klaus pauses as if he’s having a hard time trying to find the words.

“Me too Klaus. Thank you for coming with me today. It was nice not having to do it by myself like usual.”

Klaus smiles, “You know I could always hire someone to do your shopping for you.”

I raise an eyebrow, “You mean compel someone?”

Klaus’ upper lip quirks, “I never said that.”

I tilt my head, “You didn’t need to.”

Klaus rolls his eyes playfully before shrugging, “Well whenever you get tired of mundane shopping let me know, Luv.”

“Goodbye, Klaus,” I push him outside and he lets me.

“Goodbye, Luv.”

—

“Who is this?”

I pad around the kitchen with my bowl of ice cream as I answer an unknown call.

“Sage. Damon’s friend from earlier. You told me to get your number from him,” The feminine voice makes my eyes widen and I place my ice cream down on the counter.

“Oh! Hi! How are you?”

“Um, I’m alright. How are you,” Her tone comes out slightly confused.

“Eh, eating ice cream. What can I help you with Sage?”

“Finding my beloved, Finn.”

Oh, shit ya.

“Oh right, ya me and Finn and tight. He’s been waiting for you,” I say as I take a spoonful of ice cream and put it into my mouth.

“He has,” The hopefulness in her voice makes me smile.

“Umhm. And you didn’t hear this from me but he thinks you are his soulmate.”

Sage is quiet for a moment, “I know he’s mine. Will you help me find him?”

“Ya, sure when do you want to meet?”

“Now?”

Her rushed tone makes me pause and look at my fluffy bunny slippers, PJ shorts and my “I Heart my Turtle” shirt.

“It’s 10 pm?”

“Yes, I know… please Y/n, I’ve waited 900 years for this moment. I can’t wait another second.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, “Um ya sure…I’ll text you my address.”

—-

“You’re not going to try to kill me right?”

Sage, who stands at the front of my door raises an eyebrow, “If I even thought about causing you harm Klaus and Elijah would be here in under a minute ripping me to shreds.”

I nod. Good Point.

“Come in.”

Sage takes a hesitant step over the threshold and into my small entryway.

“Your house is…”

I roll my eyes, “What? Quaint?”

“Homey,” Sage smiles softly, “It looks like a home,” She takes off her jacket and holds it in her arms, “The only thing that kept me going after Klaus daggered my Finn was the hope that one day he and I could have something like this… something that we could call our home.”

I fight the urge to let out a loud “awww.”

“Well then, we shouldn’t keep Finn waiting,” I grab my jacket and place it over my PJ shirt.

“Wait…”

I turn at Sage’s voice and my stomach drops when I see the guilty look on her face.

“Please tell me you're not actually going to kill me,” I raise my hands up in a fighting stance and she shakes her head.

“No, but… you’re helping me out of the kindness of your heart so I have to admit something to you…”

I stand there completely quiet and still as she goes on to tell me the information she’s done tonight. From having a threesome with Damon and Bekah (gross) to going into Bekah’s mind to learn that Wickery Bridge was actually made from the same tree that the white oak came from and that if the Salvatore’s got a hold of it they’d kill the Mikaelsons.

“So…what do we do?”

Sage shakes her head, “I don’t know.”

We stand there in silence for a moment before a Theo-level-bad-idea comes to my mind, “I’m going to propose something. But if the cops show up you’re compelling us out of there.”

Sage gives me a worried look.

—

“Ok,” I put my hands on Sage’s shoulders and positioned her in the doorway out of sight, “You stay here and I’ll go get him. When I tell you to come in, you can.”

Sage eyes my hands, “I thought you had a thing about touch? And also why can’t I just come in with you now?” I shrug, “1. After what we just did, I’d say we bonded so I feel like our relationship has progressed, and also I’m touching you over your clothes…it’s skin-to-skin that irks me. And 2. Obviously for dramatic effect.”

I excitedly turn around and whip open the front door to the Mikaelson Mansion, catching the last of Sage muttering something about me fitting right in with the Mikaelsons.

“PHINEAS!!!”

“Bloody hell, Little Doll,” A sarcastic British voice has me rolling my eyes, “We’re all immortal here. No need for the yelling.”

I turn and meet Kol’s brown eyes.

“My bad. Wheres Finn?”

“Elskan?”

“Is that Y/n?”

“Luv, miss me already?”

Elijah, Bekah, and Klaus all enter the foyer with combined looks of confusion, whilst Kol is approaching me with an amused look on his face.

“And what’s with the outfit? You have a turtle?”

I shake my head, “No.”

Kol just frowns.

Elijah, still dressed in his suit even though it’s past midnight, hastily approaches me, “Elskan what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“Chill, Elijah,” I smile at him which seems to make him relax a bit, “I’m good. I fulfilling a duty I have for your brother.”

“For me,” Klaus’ annoying smirk is plastered on his face as his eyes roam my body.

“No,” I glare at him and point to my face, “And my face is up here.”

Klaus smiles but turns his attention back to my face.

“Y/N?”

My attention turns towards the top of the stairs where Finn is now standing and I have the fight the urge to ruin the surprise right now.

“I have something for you Finn,” I bounce on the heels of my toes and he descends the grand staircase.

“For me?”

Finn’s unsure look only makes me more excited as I nod my head hastily.

“You can come out now,” I call behind me and all the Mikaelson instantly tense up, probably thinking it’s a threat.

I don’t even have to look behind me to know Sage has entered the room because I’m looking at the utterly bewildered look on Finn’s face.

“Sage? Is that you?”

Finn takes slow steps closer to Sage and I.

“It’s me, Finn… I’ve missed you so much,” As soon as Sage says that Finn is running to embrace her.

I feel my cheeks start to hurt from smiling so hard as I watch the couple kiss, embrace, and, share quiet words with one another.

“You did this?”

I look away to find Elijah at my side with a soft expression on his face.

I nod and look back at the couple, “At the ball Finn and I talked and I told him I’d help him find Sage. I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to do it… but she kinda just showed up thankfully. Not that Finn needs to know the last part,” I whisper to Elijah.

Elijah doesn’t respond which makes me turn back to him. Once again he has the earth-shattering look in his eyes that makes my knees feel like they’re going to buckle.

“Why are you looking at me like that,” I mutter as I try to go back to looking at Sage and Finn so I don’t have to look at him.

“Because I love you.”

Oh.

OH.

I whip my head back towards Elijah so fast I think I might’ve pulled something and stare at him wide-eyed.

“Nuh-uh.”

Elijah’s eyebrows furrow but his lip twitches letting me know he’s finding my reaction entertaining, “Nuh uh?”

“Ya, nuh uh?”

“Well, I do.”

“Nope.”

Elijah lets out a soft sigh, “You’ll accept the love I have for you one day…but even if today isn’t that day I want you to know it. That I do.”

I side-eye the man standing next to me bite down hard on my lip and nod.

“Hold up,” Kol’s annoying voice pierces the air breaking everyone from their conversations.

“What now, Kol?”

I would laugh at Klaus’ annoyed tone if it weren’t for the state of shock I’m currently in.

“Why do the two of you smell like gasoline?”

Everyone in the rooms stops, and I watch as they smell the air and then turn to Sage and I. Sage turns to me though with a raised eyebrow.

“Breaking News,” The loud voice of a newscaster comes from the living room beside us, “Mystic Falls historic Wickery Bridge, has been burned down. Police and firefighters are currently at the scene. Was this a natural fire or something more criminal? When we find out you’ll be the first to know. This is Margot Fell reporting live from Channel 9 news.”

I blink and blow out a low breath as I turn back to the Mikaelsons who already have their eyes glued on me.

“Sooo, Sage and I have something to tell you.”

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fungateshortcakes · 2 days ago

Text

The Best There Is (according to Laura)

I had two old man Logan x reader fics in my drafts but decided to connect them because it made more sense to me. This old man being domestic just does it for me Ughh

Pairing: oldman!Logan x fem!reader

Summary: Parenting comes with challenges Logan never thought he would have to face in his old age; like school drop offs, nosy teachers and career day disasters

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings/tags: english is not my first language, age-gap, established relationship, Logan 2017 ending never happened, domestic fluff, violence mentioned, Prisoners 2013 reference, it's just cute old man dad Logan please let me have this, !!!not proofread!!!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Laura hated school. She had never gone to school before and she was fine, but after Logan and you had taken her under your wing, you put her in a school for her 'education'.

The only thing she needed to be educated in was survival. She hated sitting in a chair for hours, trying to keep still so she wouldn't get scolded. She hated the dumb questions teachers asked, their dumb faces while they got frustrated that the class didn't understand. And She hated math.

But most of all?

She hated that Logan had to pick her up every damn day. Not because of Logan himself or because she wanted to prove that she could walk home on her own, but because every time Logan stepped foot into the classroom to get her-

that one teacher wouldn’t leave him alone.

Her name was Miss Dover. She was pretty, blonde, and always smiling way too much when Logan arrived. She touched his arm, she laughed at things he didn’t mean to be funny.

And Laura?

Laura wanted to throw her backpack at her face. Or get her claws out, but Logan didn’t allow her

Logan already regretted agreeing to pick Laura up every day after the first time he had done so. Of course not because of Laura, but because of Miss Dover. Today was no different. The second he stepped onto the school grounds, surrounded by students who reminded him of the old times in the mansion, there she was.

“Mr. Howlett!” she called out to him in a too friendly manner, flipping her hair over her shoulder to show off. “Right on time, as always.” she smiled and to Logan, it looked like it hurt. He sighed. Here we go.

He only grunted in response, crossing his arms. Don’t engage. Keep it short. Get out.

Miss Dover, of course, ignored all of that. And she was in no way repelled because of Logans clear lack of interest in her. “You know” she started, biting her lip as she looked up at him, “I think it’s so sweet that you take the time to pick Laura up every day. A lot of dads just send a babysitter. I find that very admirable and...amazing”

Logan barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. “Well, she’s my kid.” he deadpanned. He was supposed to pick her up from school, so he did. It was the bare minimum, no need to make a fuss over something that was so self-evident.

Miss Dover beamed at him even after his discouraging answer. “That’s wonderful! A family man.” Logans eye twitched at that. He needed to get Laura and leave. Now.

Laura watched them from the steps of the school entrance, arms crossed over her chest, her pink glasses sitting on top of her head. She glanced at you, who stood beside her, smirking. Logan had begged you to come when he picked up Laura so he could prove to you how persistent and stubborn that one teacher was when it came to flirting with him.

“Should we save him?” you asked the girl beside you. For the record, you weren't jealous. Why would you be? You knew Logan loved you and didn't have eyes for anyone else, if anything, you were pretty amused by his misery. Laura shrugged at your question. “He deserves it.” you snorted a laugh, she had a point “Yeah, but we need him in one piece."

With a sigh, Laura slung her backpack over her shoulder, slipped down her sunglasses so they covered her eyes and marched towards Logan. Miss Dover was still going on about something, being awfully handsy while Logan was so obviously uncomfortable, when Laura reached them. She grabbed Logans sleeve, pulling at it. “Can we go now?” she asked Logan, paying no mind to her teacher. Miss Dovers eyes softened and she let out a coo “Aww. Looks like someone is eager to get home with Daddy” upon her words, Laura stared at her with an unreadable expression. Then, very clearly, very loudly, she said:

“He is married”

Miss Dover blinked. Logan groaned but was silently relieved. It wasn’t the way he thought Miss Dover would find out, but in the end he was glad. Laura pointed directly at you as you approached from the steps. “To her”

Miss Dovers smile dropped as she followed to where Laura pointed. You, meanwhile, finally stepped closer, grinning. “Hi” you greeted cheerfully with a wave, slipping your arm around Logans “I’m his wife” you confirmed with a nod. And judging by Miss Dovers expression, you knew she thought you didn't fit into the family, that you didn't even look like Lauras mom, that you looked way too young and you were overall not a good match in her opinion. You could tell she was about to gossip over this in the teachers lounge. But you couldn’t care less.

Logan exhaled in relief as he felt you settling beside him. Miss Dover turned red. Out of embarrassment or anger, you couldn't tell. Probably the latter. “Oh, I...I had no idea-" she stammered, averting eyecontact and taking a step back, her hand playing with the fabric of her skirt.

“Yeah” Laura said flatly. “Can we go now?”

Logan didn’t wait to answer her. He turned on his heel and walked away, practically dragging you and Laura with him. The three of you walked to his truck in silence. Logan ran a hand down his face as he threw Lauras backpack into the car. “Finally" he grunted as he sat down behind the steering wheel.

You laughed at him “She really doesn’t get the hint, huh?” you noted. Logan twisted the key, rubbing his temples while he drove out of the parking lot. “I swear, next time-”

“Next time” Laura interrupted from behind “you are sending her to pick me up”

Logan frowned, looking through the rear-view mirror at her “Why?”

Laura buckled her seatbelt “Because then she will know you are taken for real. She probably thinks this was a joke or something"

You laughed at that, leaning against Logan. “She’s right, you know. That woman looked like she wasn’t believing her ears when I said I was your wife. You said she was being persistent, I don’t think she will take this seriously” you chuckled, giving his rugged cheek a kiss. Logan sighed defeated "Yeah, yeah” he answered, putting a hand on your thigh while rounding a corner. “Maybe next time, you pick her up”

You grinned, laying your hand over his. He was a little tense. You knew why. He didn't know if you were jealous, maybe you were a little mad but didn't show it. "I'm not jealous, if you think that. Not at all"

Logan raised an eyebrow. Then he looked at you - really looked at you. At the way you fit so perfectly against him. At the way your eyes sparkled with mischief, teasing him. At the way your hand rested over his, like it belonged there. And when he turned his hand to grasp yours tightly, he was holding his heart in his palm. Yeah. You weren't jealous. Because he was yours. And you were his. And nothing was ever going to change that.

Not even when Laura stood in front of Logan a week later, her arms crossed, staring him down despite him clearly towering over her.

“You have to come”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do”

Logan sighed, rubbing his temples. They had been at this back and forth game for like 10 minutes now “Why?” he grumbled. “Because it’s career day” Laura answered flatly.

He gave her a look that said he cursed the way she was just as stubborn as him “Yeah? So?” he muttered lowly and shrugged. Laura huffed and rolled her eyes. “So” she said, already looking exhausted over the argument “everyone has to bring a parent to talk about their job”

Laura really wanted him to come. Mostly because she was always the black sheep in her class when it came to telling stories, showing emotions and just simply existing. She was different than the other kids, and after what happened to her, she had every right to be. The others picked on her more often than not and while she wanted to let her claws speak for her, Logan had strictly forbidden it. So all she could do was listen to them. It was draining. She just wanted to be normal for once.

Logan knew that, yet he scowled, picking up a can of beer from the fridge "Tell ‘em I’m dead.” he said between chugging down the bitter liquid.

You were sitting on the couch and as you heard their conversation, you couldn't help but snort.

Laura didn’t blink, unfazed “You have to come.”

Logan glared down at her, hating just how much she was like him. He was about to tell her to fuck off and go to her room, but he sighed “Kid, no one wants to hear me talk about drivin' a damn limo.”

Laura shrugged at that, turning on her heel. “Too bad.” she said. And just like that, Logan lost the argument.

And thats how Logan found himself sitting at the front of the classroom, arms crossed, scowl in full force. You stood at the back with a few other parents, your eyes fixated on him. It was fun, seeing him so annoyed. But it also warmed your heart- he sat next to Laura, sitting way taller than she was, his long legs barely fitting under the table. The two were bickering, poking each other back and forth before Laura leaned her head against his shoulder, his arm around her securely. He was it for you. Yes, you were married, but you'd marry him again in a heartbeat.

There were parents that had already gone before him. Firefighters, doctors, a lawyer. A police man sat down in his seat again after his presentation. And now it was Logans turn.

Great.

With a grunt, he stood up, slightly limping over to the blackboard. He could already feel the judgy stares of the other parents. Laura gave him a small thumbs up, and so did you.

Miss Dover, the teacher yes, that one, smiled at Logan “Alright, Mr. Howlett, why don’t you tell us what you do for a living?” she cheered.

Logan exhaled slowly.

"…I drive a limo.”

Silence.

Some of the kids blinked. A couple of parents exchanged unimpressed glances. Then one kid raised his hand. “Like… for famous people?” the young boy asked, looking a bit intimidated by Logans frown.

“Sometimes.” Logan grunted as an answer. Another kid raised her hand, bolder and more confident than her classmahe “What’s the coolest person you ever drove?”

Logan grimaced at her question, but what was he supposed to do? “A drunk guy who puked in my backseat” he replied, looking at his feet while silence spread through the room again. Miss Dover cleared her throat, the tension in the air was awkward “Oh! well, uhm..does your job have any…exciting parts?” she stuttered out, the eyes of the other parents resting on her as if to ask: why the hell did you allow him to come?

Logan stared at her, the question heavy in the room. Did she really want him to tell a bunch of ten year olds about the times he got into fistfights and gun battles with passengers?

“…Not really” he muttered.

From the back, you smiled. You knew exactly what was happening. Logan wasn’t embarrassed about his job, nor did he care about what these people thought. But he cared about Laura. And right now? He felt bad that her dad was a limo driver while other kids got to brag about firefighters and surgeons and stuff.

Your chest ached.

Because he didn’t get it. Laura didn’t care about any of that, she just wanted her dad.

Miss Dover clapped her hands, her cheeks red in slight embarrassement. “Well, let’s open the floor for more questions!” she welcomed the classroom.

Big mistake.

A mom from the third row, blonde, red lipstick, way too interested, raised her hand “So, Mr. Howlett” she started, smiling too much, “do you work long hours?” she nearly purred. Logan tensed a little, rubbing his beard “…I guess.”

Another mom, brunette, twirling her curls around her fingers in a flirty manner, leaned forward. “Must be tough coming home late all the time. Bet it gets lonely.”

You bit your lip, amused, but also a little sorry for the kids that had to witness their moms shamelessly thirst over another kids dad. Laura rolled her eyes and Logan scowled “I’m not lonely.”

The blonde mom giggled, biting her bottom lip “Yeah, I bet with me you wouldn't be” she purred. Jesus, what as up with these women??

Logans jaw clenched in annoyance. He didn't understand how these women could just full on flirt with him while their children were there. Besides that, he, Laura and you had arrived later than everyone else and he had kissed you before sitting down, surely they noticed that? Apparently not, not even the obvious ring on his finger seemed to catch their attention.

You, meanwhile, just waited. Because any second now-

“He’s married.” Laura deadpanned, her arms crossed, saving him yet again.

The brunette mom blinked “Oh” she mumbed, her face burning red. The blonde mom hesitated. "really..?”

Logan, already done with everything, just pointed at you in the back of the room. Every head turned and in any other situation, this would have you highly uncomfortable. But you just grinned. “Hi Ladies” you greeted them. You walked forward to the blackboard, smiling at the way their jealous stares bore into the back of your head. You could tell the women were fuming over the fact that you bagged such a handsome man, but Logan knew only you could truly appreciate him. "We should try and advertise our marriage" you giggled.

Logan grumbled, wrapping an arm around your waist protectively. You smirked up at him, fixing his loose tie “Maybe you should start to wear a sign.” you teased him even more. He rolled his eyes at you “Shut up" he mumbled, but his grip on you tightened. Because you were his. And he wanted to show that.

You didn't even wait for the other parents to have their turn at presenting their jobs. You just took Laura and went out of there, walking back to Logans truck. “That was hell.” he sighed, letting himself fall behind the wheel with a grunt.

You laughed as you closed your door from the passenger seat, slipping your hand into his “You survived"

“Barely.”

Laura climbed into the truck behind you two, buckling her seatbelt “Next time, I’m bringing her” she said, pointing at you. Logan frowned at that, the engine purring to life “What, so she can brag about…what? Painting? Making fun of me?” he grinned smugly, making you want to wipe that smirk off his face.

You returned the grin “I could have given them a whole presentation on how sexy my husband is.” you hummed, leaning in close to his face, your noses touching. Logan chuckled, the sound rich in his chest "Oh, yeah?” he muttered gravelly, leaning in to give you a deep, wet, noisy kiss.

Laura made a gagging noise.

You pulled back with a laugh and Logan turned towards the road as he started driving, a satisfied smile on his lips. You glanced at Laura in the backseat. “So?” you asked. “Were you embarrassed?

She blinked at your question, her brows furrowed, making her look so much like Logan “What?”

You gestured toward Logan next to you, then looked back at her “That your dad is a limo driver.” you stated simply, matter of factly. Lauras frown deepened, like the question itself was stupid. “No.” she said flatly.

Logan glanced at her through the rear view mirror, his brow cocked. "That right?” he asked her, feeling a soft smile creeping onto his lips. She shrugged, looking out the window. “You pick me up every day. You don’t talk too much. You don’t smell weird. You’re fine.”

Your heart swelled and you aww'ed at the two. "Great review, kid.” Logan huffed, but you knew he was feeling proud inside. Laura pulled a juice box from her bag and for a moment, the car was silent.

“Better than the other dads.”

Logan swore his heart just did a giddy flip “Yeah?” he asked, as if he had just heard her wrong. Your expression was soft as you looked at him, your hands curling around his.

Laura nodded wordlessly. And just like that, Logan realized it didn’t matter what he did for work, what he had done in the past. It didn’t define him entirely. Because Laura?

Laura was just happy he was her dad.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

idk how these career days work, I am not american and never had one, I don’t even know if they are that popular im sorry😭

I still have a few unfinished requests in store, i am so sorry everything is taking so long. But, next post will be a very long smut, so be ready😌

#logan howlett x reader #old man logan x reader #old man!logan #hugh jackman #x men #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #x reader #marvel #logan howlett #logan wolverine #old man logan #mcu fanfiction #fanfic

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harrywavycurly · 2 days ago

Text

Handle With Care: Sunshine and Citrus

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language, miscommunication, jealousy Harry and one brief mention of your ex and angst like hella angst.

Tag List: @gmikaelson @ell0ra-br3kk3r @tulips4harry @mellamolayla @mads3502 @empathyroad @idk199o @sassamanda77 @maudie-duan @macy-tpwk @namoreno @coralferrio1 @stylesftcher @mema10 @cherryloveshs @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @triski73

A/N: There’s only one more part left in this mini series and I am so sorry in advance but just know this does have a happy ending so just hold on okay? 😅

Summary: Harry is on a mission to show you he’s not an asshole but little does he know you’re also on a mission of your own✨📦

Harry feels all the knowledge he has about flowers, as little as it may be begin to slip away as he stares at the multiple bouquet options that are in little black bins right in front of him. For the life of him he can’t seem to remember the color of the flowers he ruined when he ran into you coming off the elevator almost a week ago, so he’s struggling to even know where to start in his efforts to replace them. He chews on his bottom lip as he scans his options for the third time, his eyes landing on an arrangement that has different hues of orange and yellow tulips with the smallest bit of red from a few roses tucked in as well.

A small smile slowly spreads across his face as he reaches for it because it reminds him of all the colors of a sun and if anyone deserves to have a bouquet of flowers that look like the sun it’s you. The girl who smells like pure sunshine and flowers rolled into the perfect mixture with a hint of something fruity, a smell Harry found himself missing so much he even went as far as trying to recreate it with candles and an odd room spray he found at a home decor store and while he likes the way they smell, nothing compares to the real thing.

“Thank fuck you finally picked something we’ve been here for ten bloody minutes staring at flowers like a pair of weirdos.” Niall’s statement of annoyance snaps Harry out of his thoughts as he rolls his eyes at Niall rant, having momentarily forgot he was even standing next to him the whole time he was staring at the bouquet options.

“Why are you even here?” Harry asks as he heads towards the checkout counter so he can get the flowers wrapped up in paper with some string.

“Because we both know you’ll somehow manage to ruin this whole thing if you do it alone.” Niall states as he looks at the roses next to the checkout counter while Harry just lets out a scoff as he places his bouquet on the counter for the nice woman to ring up.

“I’m more than capable of picking flowers for someone you tw-”

“You’re like an overgrown toddler Harry. Always making a mess of things that should be simple especially when it comes to her.” Niall cuts him off making Harry’s cheeks get warm at his words that even though they may be true doesn’t make them hurt any less. But when Niall looks over and sees Harry just rubbing his lips together he lets out a sigh and gives him a harsh pat on the back. “But don’t worry H m’not gonna let you fuck it up this time.” Niall says trying to reassure him as Harry smiles at the woman as she hands him the bouquet that’s been beautifully wrapped in white paper and some ribbon that’s tied in a nice bow.

“Good luck honey. I’m sure she’ll love them.” Harry feels his face get warm at the woman’s kind words and all he can offer in return is a tight lipped smile and a nod before he turns around and heads out of the store with Niall following behind him.

“Why won’t you just let me give you her number so you can better arrange this whole thing?” Niall asks as the two of them begin to walk the short distance back to Harry’s apartment complex.

“I already told you why.”

“Okay yeah but what if-”

“I don’t want to hear any what ifs okay? I want to get her number myself because I want to make sure she actually wants me to have it and that’s the end of it. We both know if I just text her she’s way too nice to tell me to fuck off so I’ll never know if she wanted me to have her number or not.”

“I get all that Harry I really do. But what if she’s out of town for a week and you leave these on her door and they’re ruined by-”

“Niall.” Harry stops walking so he can turn to face his friend who is usually always trying to look out for him but in this moment he’s not doing much besides annoying him. “I don’t care if she’s out of town for a month the point is she will see that I tried and that’s all I really care about right now. I need her to see I’m not an asshole.” He explains with a sigh as he runs his hand that’s not holding the flowers through his hair. Niall just nods and turns his head in the direction of Harry’s complex.

“You gonna leave a note with the flowers or just drop them off like a secret admirer?” Niall questions with a raise of his brow as he looks back at Harry.

“Fuck no I’m not just dropping them off are you insane?I’m not letting some random asshole take credit for my flowers.” Harry answers making Niall laugh as the two of them start walking again.

You rub your lips together and try to fight off the nerves that are beginning to creep back up as you stand in front of Harry’s apartment door, the pep talk you gave yourself in the elevator long forgotten as you rethink your whole plan. But before you can give yourself anymore time to possibly back up and turn to head back down the hallway to the elevators you raise your hand up and knock on the door. Not trying to be nosey or be seen as a creep to anyone that might glance out of their peepholes or come out of their front doors, you just stand there and do your best to listen for footsteps or any signs that someone is home but after a solid two minutes of silence you come to the conclusion no one is going to answer.

The sigh that you let out if a mixture of relief and also disappointment, having texted Niall asking for Harry’s apartment number so you could try to talk to him about the other night when he showed up at your door talking about zaps and a party but ended with you accidentally hurting his feelings. As you turn to make your way towards the elevators you begin trying to work through what exactly he was talking about when he mentioned feeling a weird static like shock every time you touch him but you’re certain that if something like that was happening to him then you’d have to feel it as well and yet you haven’t, not even once. But most importantly you begin to wonder why you can’t seem to just let the whole thing go, why you can’t just forget about the tall tattooed man who’s been nothing but mean to you since you met him minus the one time he showed you an ounce of kindness when he was drunk standing in your door at one in the morning.

“Why does he have to be so cute?” You mumble to yourself as you step into the elevator. “Like really cute.” You add with a sigh as the doors close and you press the number for your floor. All of a sudden you feel annoyed with yourself for letting Harry’s looks get in the way of the fact he’s not nice nor does he seem to be interested in you, because even when he knocked on your door to invite you to his party he only did it on Niall’s behalf and hours after the party even started meaning he didn’t really want you there.

“He doesn’t like you. So we are letting him go.” You say with a firm tone, you nod at your reflection in the elevator door just before it opens up on your floor. “He doesn’t-” you are about to repeat your new mantra but the words get stuck in your throat as you look down the hallway and see Harry bending down to leave a bouquet of flowers on the welcome mat outside your front door while Niall stands off to the side with his back against the wall.

“Jesus Harry you writin’her a damn novel? Just sign the card and let’s go. I’m hungry.” You hear Niall’s voice from down the hall and you instantly look around for a place to hide so neither of them see you, deciding you don’t really know if you’re ready to be face to face with Harry yet since just a few moments ago you were ready to swear him off and now he’s suddenly leaving you flowers.

“Oh fuck off you’re always hungry.” You hear Harry’s voice snap at his bestfriend and you feel your cheeks get warm at how deep it is but you don’t have time to wonder if he’s always sounded like that or not because you then hear them begin to walk towards the elevators because Niall’s keys he keeps on his belt loop begin to jingle with each step. Quickly you dart into the stairwell and thank your lucky stars they don’t opt to get in some cardio and choose to use the elevator instead.

“You think she’ll like them?”

“I mean yeah why wouldn’t she?”

“Because I don’t know? What if that’s the kind of flowers she hates? Or what if she’s allergic to them or-”

“What happened to not wanting to hear any what ifs?”

“You’re such a twat.” You cover your mouth with both hands to stop yourself from letting out a laugh at Harry’s choice of insult and to keep yourself from audibly awing as he voices his worries about if you’ll like the flowers he picked for you.

“Yeah yeah whatever at least m’not in-” You don’t get to hear the rest of Niall’s sentence due to the very obnoxious sound of the elevator doors opening. You chance a glance through the small window on the door to the stairs and let out a sigh of relief when you see the doors to the elevator have closed and the arrow shows they are heading down.

“Just because he left flowers doesn’t mean he likes you.” You repeat over and over again in your head as you quietly exit the stairwell and begin to slowly walk down the hallway towards your front door.

“Love, Harry.” You whisper to yourself as you hold the card from the bouquet of tulips and roses that are in a yellow and white polka dotted vase on your kitchen counter.

It’s safe to say you’ve been staring at the flowers and the card that was tucked inside them ever since you picked them up off your welcome mat two days ago. It’s also safe to say you have been doing everything humanly possible to not run into Harry since then because you just don’t know what you’d say to him. You’re trying to figure out what exactly it all means, because if you wouldn’t have heard Niall complain about how long it was taking Harry to write the card you never would’ve thought something so sweet could be written by him, the man that usually is extremely short and snarky towards you.

“Tried to pick some that reminded me of you. Hope you like them and they make you smile. I really like it when you smile.” You read aloud hoping that saying the words out loud and not just in your head it’ll help you uncover the secret message that you feel is hidden somewhere within the three simple sentences. “He likes it when I smile?” You question while placing the card down next to the vase.

“Doesn’t mean he likes you.” You remind yourself as you turn to go into the living room, ready to get comfortable on your couch and decide what you want for dinner before starting a movie. Right before you sit down you hear three loud knocks on your front door making you raise a brow because you don’t have plans with anyone tonight and you haven’t ordered anything to be delivered. When you get to your door you look through the peephole and you feel your eyes go wide at who you see standing on the other side.

Harry tries not to let the idea that you’re avoiding him enter in his mind as stands outside your door after his second round of knocks. He thought you moving into the same complex as him would make it easier for him to run into you but he’s quickly learned that’s just not true. Much to his disappointment he hasn’t even gotten a whiff of your floral and sunshine scent in the elevators and he finds that extremely odd because usually it lingers long after you’ve left the room. So naturally that has him convinced that you just haven’t left your apartment recently or you haven’t been home, but when he sees the flowers he left on your doorstep two days ago are gone he knows you’ve at least been home in the last forty eight hours. When he reaches up to knock one more time before giving up he hears what sound like locks being undone so he takes a small step back to give you some space once you open the door.

Now Harry swears he’s not one to really believe in the whole love at first sight thing, thinks it’s silly and probably just a really hearty dose of lust getting mixed up with love. But something about the way your eyes almost get a whole shade brighter when they meet his has his knees wanting to give out and his mouth to hang open as he tries to come up with something, anything to say since he is the one who knocked on your door after all. He finally feels a brief moment of clarity when your eyes break away from his and travel down to the box in his hands.

“Uh hi Harry what-what are you doing here?” He hates how unsure of yourself you are as you cross your arms over your middle as you stand in front of him in a pair of bike shorts and a pink and purple tye dye shirt. He knows it’s his fault that you don’t know how to act around him, he’s the one who can’t seem to get it together around you but that’s also the whole reason he’s here.

“I got these for you.” You look down at his hands as he holds the box out for you and that’s when you get a good look at the picture and label on it, it’s a dish ware set that looks like the ones he broke when he dropped your box. “Sorry if they aren’t the exact same as the ones you had I looked everywhere for-”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Harry feels the corners of his mouth fall a bit at your words, he absolutely did have to do this because he’s the reason you don’t have plates and bowls but he knows you’re just trying to be nice per usual.

“We both know it’s the least I could do.” He counters making you just rub your lips together as you take the box from him.

“But you didn’t do anything right? Nothing happened?” You repeat the same words he snapped at you with when you confronted him after you watched him drop your box, but to his surprise there’s a smile on your face as if you’re teasing him.

“You know that’s the uhm-only box I’ve ever dropped.” He admits with warm cheeks making you quirk a brow at him as if you don’t believe him. “Really out of all the moves I’ve done over the years your box of dishes is the only casualty I’ve ever had. I had a perfect track record.” He explains making you let out a light chuckle as you shake your head.

“Sorry I ruined that for you.” You apologize as you look down at his feet that are once again covered by his scuffed brown boots.

“You didn’t ruin anything.” It’s the way he says it that has you swallowing nervously as you dare to look up at him and you almost have to take a step back at the intensity of his stare. “I’m sor-”

“It’s okay.” You don’t want to hear him apologize right now because you’re not sure you’d be able to keep yourself together if he does it while he continues to look at you as if you hung the moon and all the stars. Harry just runs a hand through his hair as he nods his head but he doesn’t turn to leave like you assumed he would, instead he takes a small step towards you and reaches out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I uhm-sorry I just you had-a hair.” He stumbles over his words as if his tongue doesn’t know how to help him form proper sentences. Meanwhile the spot on your cheek his knuckles lightly skimmed when he brushed the hair behind your ear feels as if it was stung by a bee but without the pain, leaving behind a warmth and slight tingling feeling.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks a few moments later when concern replaces his earlier embarrassment, he bends his knees a bit so he’s eye level with you as you stare off into space with wide eyes and pink cheeks. You don’t know how to answer him, because inside you feel all warm and tingly but your mind is cloudy as if it’s stuck in a fog and can’t find its way out leaving you unable to do much besides just stand there staring at him.

“Uh-uhm I think-” Before you can finish your sentence Harry is grabbing the box just before it hits the ground having slipped out of your hands in your dazed state. “Thank-thank y-you.” Normally Harry would be flattered at someone getting so tongue tied around him but in this moment all he’s feeling is worried as he looks you over and realizes something isn’t quite right.

“Let’s get you off your feet okay? You look like you’re about to pass out on me.” Harry takes your small nod as his permission to softly put his free hand that’s not holding your box of plates on your shoulder so he can quickly maneuver around you and walk into your apartment. He rushes over and places the box on your counter, only briefly catching a glimpse of the flowers he left for you sitting near your sink in a vase before he’s back at the door standing behind you.

“Sorry it’s uhm just me.” He whispers when you flinch at his touch as he places his hands on both your shoulders so he can help you turn around so you’re now facing inside your apartment with him close behind you. “Let’s go to the couch okay love?” He suggests before he takes a step so he’s now by your side and kicking your front door closed with his foot, his eyes don’t leave your face as he drops his hands from your shoulders so he can wrap an arm around your middle so he can help you walk since he can tell your legs seem a bit wobbly.

You feel like you’re floating as Harry practically drags you to your couch, a trail of warmth and tingles left everywhere his hand touches you in the process. Right now it’s your hip he has a firm grip on and it’s sending the tingling sensation right down to your knee almost making you take Harry and yourself out but luckily he manages to get you to the couch before that happens. Your heart is beating so fast you think it’s going to explode as Harry sits on the edge of your coffee table right in front of you so he can get a good look at you.

“Are you okay? Do you need-”

“Why-why’d you get me-me the flowers?” Your words are rushed and jumbled but Harry understands you because you watch him turn and look towards your kitchen where they are sitting on your counter.

“I just want to fix what I broke.” He answers when he turns back to look at you, he wishes so badly he could have an inside look at what’s going on in your mind because the way you’re staring at him has him thinking you’re about three seconds away from kicking him out or you’re about to start crying and in this moment he’s not sure how well he’d handle either option.

“They remind me of sunshine.” You whisper as you place a hand on your chest and try to help clam yourself down a bit. Harry feels a grin take over his face as you tell him the exact reason why he picked that arrangement in the first place.

“They reminded me of you.”

“Sunshine?”

“Yeah.”

“What does that mean?” You question making Harry let out a deep breath as he tries to ready himself to explain evening to you.

“From the moment you opened your apartment door I haven’t been able to get you out of my head and a massive reason for that is because you smell just like sunshine and flowers and-”

“It’s called sun washed citrus.” You correct him making him quirk a brow. “It’s my body wash. It’s called sun washed citrus not sunshine and flowers.” Your words are less mumbled as you begin to gain a little bit more control of yourself. Harry chuckles and nods as you blink at him a few times and he’s honestly not even sure you’re really understanding what he’s saying but that doesn’t stop him from continuing on.

“I was mean to you and I’m sorry. I swear I’m never like that-I’m a nice guy but I think I just knew you were too good or too nice for me from the first time you smiled at me.” You watch him slowly place a hand on your knee and you feel grateful that you’re already sitting down because it sends a tingling jolt down to your toes. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you upset and I’m sorry that’s all I’ve seemed to do but I think I realized the real reason I just can’t get my shit-”

“Stuff.” You interject making him laugh as he gives your knee a little squeeze.

“Sorry. I know why I can’t get my stuff together around you and it’s because I uhm-well I uh I really like you and it’s got me all messed up.” Harry tries to focus on how much lighter he feels after admitting he likes you, as if the weight that’s been holding him down ever since his party has been lifted off his chest. But he also can’t stop himself from trying to get a sense of how you’re feeling about the words he just let slip out, and right now he really can’t tell because you’re just staring at him with big eyes and a blank expression on your face.

It’s not until Harry removes his hand that’s on your knee so he can use it to run through his hair that you begin to feel the fog lifting from your mind allowing you to think more clearly. You try to register everything he just said to you, the fact he likes you and how he really seems to enjoy how you smell but you can’t make sense of how his feelings for you had him acting like a complete jerk. So with a clear head and a full control of your limbs you push off the couch making Harry quickly stand up and hold his hands out for you to grab just incase your knees give out of your legs feel wobbly still.

“I don’t think you really like me Harry.” Of all the things Harry was prepared to hear you say that sentence wasn’t on the list. He gets a sinking feeling in his gut as he watches you look down at the floor. “You don’t treat the people you like the way you treated me. Thank you for the flowers and the plates that was very nice and-”

“I’m sorry I’m-I’m so sorry for everything I did and said to you I never wanted to hurt you I just-”

“But you did.” When you look up from the floor Harry feels like he’s been punched in the gut, your eyes are glossy and the very tip of your nose is turning a light shade of pink as you sniffle a few times. “I know you’re sorry and I do forgive you for everything but I don’t think you did all of that because of how much you like me. We aren’t in junior high anymore Harry we aren’t mean to the people we have crushes on.” Your words hit him right in the chest as you move away from him and towards your kitchen.

“I’ve seen glimpses of the nice guy you say you usually are but then you just turn right back into this jerk and I’ve already dated a guy who treated me like dirt and it didn’t end well so I’m-I’m ending this before it even starts to save us both the trouble because you’ll just get bored with me while I’ll probably fall in love with you and it’s not fair so you-you should just go.” You cross your arms over your chest and let out a shaky breath as you try your hardest to keep yourself held together, but Harry can see very clearly that you’re moments away from a breakdown and he hates knowing that it’s because of him and the way he’s made you think he’s exactly like your shitty ex boyfriend.

“I swear I’m nothing like him.” He tries to get you to look at him as he takes a step towards you but you just shake your head and take a step backwards until your back is hitting the edge of the counter.

“Then why do you act so much like him?” Harry feels like the wind just got knocked out of him as you stare at him right in the eyes and break his heart piece by piece with every word that comes out of your mouth. He doesn’t try to argue with you because there’s nothing to argue about, you’re right he’s been acting exactly like your ex he just didn’t realize it until now.

“Can I try to explain why I’ve been acting that way? I know it doesn’t make sense right now but I swear there’s just something about you that has me-”

“Please just go Harry I can’t-can’t do this right now.” Your voice is low and watery making Harry feel sick to his stomach at the thought of you shedding even a single tear because of him but he can’t do anything about it since you no longer want him in your space. He lowers his head and lets out a long sigh before he starts to head for your front door.

“I know you felt it.” You turn your head and find Harry already looking at you from where he’s standing by your front door. “I don’t know what it felt like to you but I know you felt something when I touched you and that’s why you looked like you could pass out. So I know you at least feel something for me.” You feel your heart sink to your stomach as he runs a hand over his face to try to distract from the sound of his own sniffles. “If you ever change your mind and want to maybe start over you know where to find me.” With that Harry opens your front door and steps out into the hallway, quietly closing it behind him leaving you alone in your apartment with nothing but your thoughts.

Harry does his best to hold himself together until he makes it to his apartment, only letting out a few shaky breaths and some sniffles in the elevator. When he finally closes his apartment door he can’t hold back anymore as he sinks to the floor with his back up against it. He brings his hands up to his face as he lets out the first of many tears he knows are coming, he swears he’s had his heart broken before but the feeling he has now is as if someone reached inside of him and ripped the entire organ out of his body and replaced it with a black hole. He didn’t see it ending like this with you especially since it ended before it even began, he didn’t imagine for a moment that you’d want nothing to do with him but he can’t blame you because he brought all of this upon himself with how he treated you.

“God I’m a fucking idiot.” He mumbles between sobs as he thinks back to how he really thought some flowers and plates would magically fix everything and have you jump into his arms and want to be with him the same way he wants to be with you. In a moment of pure selfishness he allows himself to cling to the small shred of hope that maybe in time you’ll want to start over with him, you’ll let him show you the man he really is and the story of the two of you can get the happy ending he so desperately wants. So even though he knows it’s probably just going to end up hurting him, he lets a tiny smile form on his face as he tells himself that you just need time and then you’ll come around because you felt it, you felt the zap just like he did and that has to mean something.

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obsessedwithceleste · 17 hours ago

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You Can Say You Love Me Now

Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: A little fake dating trope, just in time for Valentine's day

word count: 3k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It was the perfect plan really. Or it had seemed like it at the time. When fueled by frustration, love, and desperation, what could go wrong? Theo had loved you for as long as he could remember and he wasn’t afraid to admit that. To himself at least. But to you, well, that was a bit more challenging.

Coming from a pure blood family, a sacred 28 family no less, Theodore’s fate had been sealed long before he was even born. Destined to marry another rich, pure blood heiress, have children, and secure the Nott legacy another generation. All ridiculous nonsense if you asked Theodore. What was the point of tradition anyway? Pretty much everyone who cared was already dead, so what did it matter?

Unfortunately for Theo, his father was not dead and had been trying to find a suitable match for what felt like years at this point. Names of witches that Theo couldn’t even match a face to had been floated by, but Theo had spoiled each and every potential match and his father had been growing increasingly more agitated by the day.

That’s when it had struck him. Kill two birds with one stone. Get his father off his back and gain the perfect opportunity to win over the witch of his dreams. Was it a bit short sighted? Sure. But he wasn’t left with many options at this point and this was as good a plan as any.

“Please principessa, you know what my father’s like. And it would only be a few months.” Theo begged, following close behind you as you make your way through the labyrinth that is the Hogwarts library.

“I am not going to pretend to date you for a few months Theodore. Or at all. That’s actually insane. Besides, no one would believe it anyway. We’ve known each other for how long? No one is going to buy the idea of us just now deciding to go out. Especially not your father. Do you know how long my mother has been trying to set us up?” you sigh, plucking another book off the shelf.

You had known Theodore practically your whole life. The two of you had been best friends since before you could walk. Your earliest memories involved waddling around the gardens of his family’s manor as your mothers watched on in thrilled bliss. There was simply no way the two of you would be fooling anyone.

“Well that’s just it isn’t it? Father has been hounding me to court you for ages, he’ll be too relieved to care,” Theo replies, an air of desperation creeping into his voice.

"Yeah, And what do you suppose we'd tell them hmm?" You ask.

"Don't know. We wanted it to happen naturally or some other sappy story. They'll eat it up."

You give your friend a pointed look. This was not the first time he had presented you with a half-baked plan that was certain to go wrong at some point.

“You’re being so ridiculous right now Theodore, this easily makes it on the list of your top ten stupidest ideas.”

“You keep a list?”

“It’s alphabetized.”

Theo has the nerve to look offended.

“Please principessa? I know your family has been on you too. This will buy us both a little time at least,” Theo protests. "Just think, we tell them over winter break, string it along awhile, and then after we've gone our seperate ways we're just too broken hearted to even consider any other possibilities for the future."

In all fairness, the boy was right. Your family had been bothering you for months now, asking if you’d found a special someone. You'd known when Theodore's father began ramping up the pressure for him to find a match that your family wouldn't be far behind, but it was honestly starting to get to be a bit ridiculous. And exhausting.

"It's not even completely incomprehensible. We've been mistaken as a couple before." Theo continues to press.

You glare at your friend, eyes rolling at the mere memory.

six months prior

It had been another one of your mother's usual, stuffy garden parties. The sun had been beating down on you all morning and all you really wanted to do was throw your blasted shoes across the lawn. Who thought it was a sensible idea to be out on the garden's cobblestone paths in scorching heat for hours at a time? This was not your idea of a good time.

"Principessa," Theodore greeted, arm wrapping comfortably around your waist.

"Don't even start, Theodore," you grumbled, leaning into the boy. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, and if my mother tries to make me join one more conversation about the Ministry or some such I'll set the whole garden on fire."

Theodore just laughed, pulled you closer.

"C'mon love. We can sneak off to the lake I reckon. Berkshire just arrived so the mums will all be too busy throwing him at the Greengrass sisters to notice."

Had you felt a bit bad leaving Enzo to the wolves? Sure. But still, you had let Theodore lead you down the path to the lake, collapsing onto the lawn sofa that was perched almost picturesquely on the patio overlooking the glassy water.

You had closed your eyes, feeling yourself relax into Theodore as his fingers combed methodically through your hair. You didn't know how long the both of you had been sitting there simply basking in each other's company when an excited gasp jolted you from your peaceful bliss.

"Oh! Oh my!" the shrill voice of one of your mother's airheaded socialites tittered. "I wasn't aware the both of you were courting! Oh your parents must be so pleased- what with your families being so close and all-"

"We're not courting." You interjected, holding your hand up to stop the women mid sentence.

She had stuttered awkwardly after that before finally shuffling off. Had you been a bit harsh? Perhaps. But you simply hadn't been in any sort of mood to deal with the notion of dating your best friend.

Theodore hadn't said a word, but you could feel him recoil ever so slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice if it hadn't been you. And things were a bit, strained, for the following days. If you could even call it that. And then things went back to normal as if nothing had happened.

You would have forgotten the whole thing, brushed it under the rug as something to laugh about in a few years, if it hadn't left a nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

You had never even allowed yourself to think that you could ever end up with your friend. Sure, years ago your mothers had shared the fantasy of the both of you ending up together one day. You were sure your mother was still convinced it might happen. But no. He would be auctioned off to the family of some wealthy heiress and you would be matched with some boy your parents deemed suitable. It was just how things worked.

Your feared your father was wearing going to wear through the carpet at any moment with the way he was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. Your mother sat twiddling her fingers on the sofa across from you, watching your father in exasperation.

Theodore was quite pleased with himself. To be completely honest he really didn't think he'd get this far. But sitting smugly on the sofa of his father's office, arm wrapped securely around you as he faced not only his own father, but your parents as well, he felt on top of the world.

"Well? Is it true? Are you?" your mother asks, finally breaking the silence as she had apparently given up on your father being the first to speak.

Your father had stormed off to Mr. Nott's office before you could even let out a breath, and by the time you and Theodore had finally slunk into the room, your mother was already doing a piss poor job of hiding her excitement.

It had always been a dream of hers for the both of you to end up together one day. It was hardly a kept secret. Maybe Theodore had been right and their blind excitement would stop them from asking too many questions because this was truly horrific.

"Of course it's true! It better be! The way I found him all over y/n," your father interrupts.

Mr. Nott just gazes on, eyes seemingly boring into your soul as Theodore meets his father's stare with cool, nonchalance. The smug bastard.

"Oh it's all we ever hoped for!" Your mother gushes, eyes falling onto the portrait hanging on the wall of the late Mrs. Nott.

"Well. That settles it then. They'll begin courting. Or whatever it is they call it these days," Mr. Nott says finally. "But there will be no more of this, nonsense. Not under my roof."

a few minutes earlier

"After further reassessment, this is the stupidest idea you've ever had," you hiss. Glaring at the brunette boy in front of you.

You were currently perched on one of the many desks lining the library walls of Nott Manor. Theodore was pressed up against the side, warm hands on your thighs holding you securely in place and sending shivers down your spine.

"Hush amore. How else will they be convinced we've been hiding a relationship, hmm?" He asks, slowly guiding one of your arms up to wrap around his neck.

"Oh I don't know. Suppose we just tell them? Ever think of that?"

"Yeah, and how would that go? Hey mum, I've been secretly seeing the son of your dead best friend who you've been trying to set me up with for ages. This is definitely not a distraction. Please believe us." Theo scoffs.

"I'm being serious," you respond, giving the boy a light whack on the shoulder. "When I agreed to the whole 'pretend to go out' bit, this is not what I had in mind."

"We've kissed before," Theo drawls, all nonchalance.

"You know that's not the same Theodore."

Before Theodore is able to respond, likely with another of his dry quips that you had grown to adore (not that you'd ever admit it), the door of the library swings open, footsteps echoing on the marble floors.

You don't even get the chance to fully take in the reality of the situation before Theodore's lips are on yours. It's slow and soft and warm as you feel his thumb softly brushing circles on your inner thigh. A soft gasp escapes you as you melt into the boy.

"What is the meaning of this?" Your father's cutting voice calls out, breaking you from your trance.

You jolt away from Theo, eyes snapping up to meet your father's, face flushed with embarrassment. Theo on the other hand looked quite self-satisfied. Oh you were going to kill him later.

"Both of you. Into the office. Now." Your father snaps out, looking like he was wishing he could obliviate himself in that moment.

"How long are we going to keep this going?" you ask, eyes not quite meeting Theo's as you lean your head against him. It was another warm night in which you and Theodore had managed to sneak up to the astronomy tower.

Your visits to the astronomy tower had started back in fourth year. It seemed like forever ago. And now you looked forward to nothing as much as nights spent with Theodore gazing up at the sky. The nights were different now though, you supposed.

It had been what? Five months now? You were almost certain it was five months, but those months seemed to have flown by in bliss. You hadn't realized how easy it would be. You and Theodore seemed to have been carefully tip toeing the line between friendship and more for years. You simply hadn't put the pieces together. It had been a bit clunky at first sure. Awkward maybe. But this was perfect. Standing in Theodore's arms as the stars above you seemed to go on forever. Perfect.

three-ish months prior

"Shut up. Shut. Up. You're joking," Daphne squeals, eyes locking onto your fingers which are tightly interlocked with Theo's as you enter your dorm room.

Something you seemed to have overlooked when agreeing to Theodore's dating scheme, was the fact that an integral part of the plan involved selling the lie to your closest friends.

It was much more difficult than you had anticipated.

You had spent the first initial month spending all your free time with Theodore, never really leaving his side. Apparently this didn't seem out of the ordinary. The flowers sent to your dorm didn't elicit a single reaction from your roommate, nor did Theodore's constant pet names. No, what really did it apparently, was the hand holding. Scandalous.

Your friends never failed to miss an opportunity to humble you.

"Took them long enough. Don't know why you're so shocked Daph," Mattheo replies dryly from his spot on the floor, papers scattered around him. He doesn’t even bother to look up.

"Well duh. We all knew they'd end up together eventually. Just didn't think they'd figure it out while we were still in school." Daph responds matter of factly. “Ugh. I owe Pansy 25 galleons now.” She groans, a frown appearing on her face.

"We can hear you, you know," Theo drawls, raising an eyebrow.

"Well it isn't as if the two of you have been subtle about it. Always holed up together in the library for hours at a time doing gods knows what."

"We study together," you reply, feeling the need to defend yourself.

"You’ve also attend every single ball together since, ever," Mattheo adds.

"Better that then go with whatever tossers our parents dig up."

"I've found the both of you asleep in Theodore's bed on more than one occasion."

"As friends."

"Right. You'd sleep together as friends, but drew the line at hand holding." Daphne says dryly. "You're both hopeless."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Y/n, I damn near saw you hex Theo's hand off in fifth year when he tried to hold your hand, and even that wasn't solid proof that you two weren't already going out." Daphne snorts. "Hopeless."

"C'mon Daph, let's leave the love birds to it then," Mattheo says, gathering his papers. "Make good choices. Don't do anything I'd do," he calls as the two of them make a quick exit.

As soon as the door slams shut, you turn to look at Theo as if to ask 'what on Earth was that about?'

“They make fair points,” he says with a shrug, pulling you onto the bed with him.

"We weren't being obvious about anything Theodore. There was nothing there to begin with." You reply, allowing him to pull you onto his chest.

You knew there hadn't been anything there before, or at least you thought there wasn't, because this was all very new. Sure before you might've fallen asleep in the same bed after staying up until 3 am studying for your charms exam, but you'd certainly never seen Theodore look at you like this before. And you'd certainly never felt his hand creep under your shirt to rub soft circles across your rib cage. You'd definitely never felt your heart try to beat out of your chest like this. Or maybe you had.

"Is it really so absurd to think we've always been so close?" Theo asks, eyes very clearly focused on your lips. Not that you noticed of course.

"Maybe not," you reply, letting your head fall to rest on the boy's chest.

This was nice you thought to yourself as Theo's lips pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"How long do you want to keep going?" Theo asks after a moment.

"Don't know," you reply, feeling his eyes on you as you continue gazing out at the sky in front of you.

"Another month?" Theo asks carefully, pulling you ever closer.

You can feel your heart begin to race at the idea of it all ending so soon. You shake your head.

"You want to end it sooner?" Theo asks, voice wavering ever so slightly.

You shake your head again. You hear Theodore's sharp breath as he realizes your implication and you feel yourself growing increasingly more nervous as the silence stretches on.

You'd really, truly never allowed yourself to consider the idea of ending up with Theo. You knew that simply wasn't how the world worked. And frankly the idea of rejection couldn't even be a possibility. You couldn't allow yourself to lose your best friend. Or maybe you could. This was all his idea to begin with after all.

"What if we just kept going?" You ask finally, feeling the weight of the world lift off your shoulders.

Theo's arms tear away from you as he turns you to face him, hand holding your chin firmly in place, forcing your eyes to meet.

"Don't play with me like this, principessa," he says, voice all seriousness as his eyes scan your face, searching for anything that might suggest you're joking with him.

"I'm not."

And just like that, Theo's lips are on yours once more. They seemed to find themselves there a lot lately, melting your mind to absolute mush as he pulled you closer. You could feel your back, now pressed up against one of the marble pillars of the tower as Theo's lips moved slowly from your lips to your jawline, and carefully down the side of your neck.

"You can say you love me now," He whispers into your ear, his warm breath giving you chills as his hands continue to wander.

"I love you," you gasp out.

"Sorry, who?" he pushes, leaving little pecks across your jawline once more.

"Theo. I love you, Theodore," You say finally, just as Theo presses another kiss to your lips.

"And I love you, amore."

Did I start this well over a year ago? Yes I did, thank you for asking. Did I change the title three different times? Absolutely I did. Am I posting this before editing? Also yes. Cope.

#slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #theo nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott fanfiction #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott fic #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #slytherin

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therogueflame · 2 days ago

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The Small Council

Hi my sweet baby angels,

Here is the long overdue Aemond fic I promised all those moons ago. I hope you enjoy it, this one was definitely interesting to write. Writing someone as calculated as Aemond was a different kind of difficult, but using the dialogue from the show with Alicent did help quite a bit. Please let me know what you think! (Also if anyone can point me in the direction of making those cool like three gif/pic banner things cool authors put on their fics that would be so great love you bye.)

✨My Masterlist✨

Summary: A brief conversation between the Queen Dowager and the Prince Regent brings you unexpectedly to the precipice of action.

WC: 5.0k

Warnings: 18+, sex (p in v), oral (f!recieving), multiple orgasm, cheating, no use of y/n, public sex, implied fem!reader

Aemond Targaryen x Mistress!Reader

MDNI!!!

Aemond remained seated at the head of the council table, exuding an air of effortless authority. The chamber had begun to empty, the scrape of chairs and measured footsteps fading into the corridor beyond. Only the crackle of the hearth and the rustle of parchment lingered in the stillness. His fingers drummed idly against the carved wood, his expression unreadable as he watched the last figures depart.

Alicent was nearly at the door, walking beside Ser Criston, her hands clasped tightly, her posture poised yet rigid. Afternoon light streamed through the high windows, casting sharp angles across the chamber floor.

“Mother? A word.”

His voice cut through the space, measured—a command rather than a request.

Alicent halted, her lips pressing together as if steeling herself. Then, slowly, she turned, her gaze unreadable as she stepped back toward him. “I caution you, Aemond—boldness is one thing, but—”

“I am relieving you of your place on the small council.”

Silence stretched between them, taut as a drawn bowstring. Alicent did not waver. “You know very well I represented your father in his final years and have counseled Aegon.”

“Capably so.” Aemond’s tone was even, unruffled. “Father is dead. Aegon is… mmm.” He exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly as though considering his phrasing. “You served the realm well in its time of need. That need has ended. You are no longer obliged.”

Alicent’s chin lifted, her gaze sharpening. “It is not a matter of obligation. This council is in need of a tempering voice.”

Aemond’s mouth twitched, something too faint to be a smirk but just as dismissive. “We have more than enough of those, if you ask me.”

Her shoulders squared. “You have the recklessness of ease. And its arrogance. Neither of which befits a king.”

His fingers stilled against the table. He did not flinch, did not betray so much as a flicker of reaction, but something shifted in the air between them. “I release you from your seat, such as it was. I trust you’ll find contentment in more... domestic pursuits.”

Alicent stepped forward then, close enough that the afternoon light slanting through the chamber windows cast a gentle glow over her face. She reached out, fingertips light as they pressed to his cheek—a touch meant to soothe, perhaps, or to remind.

“Have the indignities of your childhood not yet been sufficiently avenged?”

Aemond’s hand caught her wrist, his grip firm, but not unkind. The moment stretched, heavy with words unspoken. Then, slowly, Alicent pulled away. She did not look back as she turned, nor did she speak. Aemond stood, movements smooth, deliberate, and watched as she disappeared beyond the threshold.

“You have the gratitude of the Crown,” he said at last, though the words were spoken to the empty air.

The door closed behind her, leaving him alone in the hush of the chamber, the afternoon light stretching long across the stone. Aemond exhaled, long and slow, before turning back toward the window. He clasped his hands behind his back, posture rigid as he gazed out over King’s Landing. The city stretched before him, its streets winding and endless, its people moving below like ants, oblivious to the shifting of power within the Red Keep. The faint sound of the door opening again caught his ear, but he did not turn. He already knew who it was.

You hesitated in the doorway, the soft click of the latch settling into place behind you. He did not turn. You had not expected him to. Still, a quiet unease curled in your stomach as you took a measured step forward, the train of your gown whispering against the stone floor.

“My prince.”

His only response was a slow inhale through his nose. “My lady.”

He still did not look at you, his gaze fixed on the sprawl of the city below. That suited you just fine. You had no desire to meet his eye just yet, not after overhearing what had passed between him and the Dowager Queen. You had not lingered to eavesdrop—not intentionally, at least—but whispers carried through these halls like a restless wind. And you had learned long ago that it was wiser to listen than to be caught unprepared.

“You’re troubled,” you said, choosing your words carefully.

That earned you something—a quiet exhale, almost a laugh, though it held no true mirth. “What keen insight,” he murmured, finally turning to face you.

Aemond’s gaze swept over you, cool and assessing, and though you stood still beneath it, you felt the weight of it settle on your skin. You were no one of great consequence, no rival, no threat—merely a courtier, the wife of another lord. But you had remained in the Red Keep long past what was necessary, and he had noticed.

He noticed everything.

“Shall I presume you were listening at the door?”

The corner of your mouth lifted, though you did not dare call it a smile. “No, my prince. The halls carry sound.”

His expression did not shift, though something in his gaze sharpened. “And what have you come to tell me?”

You hesitated only a moment before lowering your head, a gesture of deference, though not entirely without purpose. “Only that I thought you might appreciate the presence of one who has no quarrel with you.”

Aemond studied you for a long moment, the afternoon light cutting across his features, sharpening the angles of his face. His silence was weighty, deliberate, yet you did not move.

“You believe I am in need of comfort,” he murmured, stepping forward.

You did not step back. “I believe you are in need of company.”

A breath passed between you, heavy with something unspoken. The chamber was empty now. The smallfolk below were nothing more than distant echoes. The day stretched before you, uncertain yet light.

His lips curved, slow and deliberate. “Then stay.”

You stepped closer, the soft rustle of your pale yellow skirts barely breaking the silence between you. Aemond remained as he was—tall, composed, hands still clasped behind his back—but you saw the shift in his gaze, the way his eye flickered over you in quiet recognition.

“You wear yellow,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, edged with something more thoughtful than before.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him. “Should I not?”

His lips twitched, the barest ghost of amusement, though it never fully formed. “It does not suit your purpose.”

A small smile found its way to your lips. “And what do you think my purpose is?”

Aemond did not answer immediately. He let the silence linger, his eye sweeping over you—your gown, your posture, the way you stood before him without hesitation. It was a game, this dance between you. Yours was a connection made in the quiet corners of the castle, in the moments stolen between duty and discretion. He had taken you first out of spite, his own cold, calculated revenge against a man who had slighted him. But what had begun as punishment had not ended so cleanly.

It was not hatred that brought you here tonight.

Aemond finally turned fully to face you, the sunlight catching on the sharp planes of his face, throwing half of it into shadow. “You came to me of your own will,” he said, a statement rather than a question.

You hummed lightly, a sound that was neither confirmation nor denial. “Would you like to believe that?”

His gaze darkened slightly, though not with anger. With something else, something heavier, something that had long since settled between you both.

“I believe,” Aemond said, voice low, “that you should be more careful of whose company you keep.”

You lifted a brow. “And yet, here I stand.”

A pause. A slow breath. Aemond reached out, fingers brushing against the fabric of your sleeve—light, testing. Not claiming, not yet.

“You should go,” he said, but the words carried no weight.

“I should,” you agreed, though neither of you moved.

Another long silence stretched between you, the kind that always came before you surrendered to what had long since become inevitable.

His fingers curled around your wrist, firm but deliberate, drawing you just a fraction closer. Your breath shallowed, your pulse quickening as his thumb brushed idly along the inside of your wrist. He was warm, even through his gloves. You knew that touch well.

“You wear yellow,” he murmured again, this time with something close to satisfaction. “Like a wife meant to be untouched.”

You let your lips part slightly, watching him, waiting.

Aemond tilted his head, considering. Then, his grip tightened ever so slightly, guiding your hand to rest against his chest, just over the slow, steady beat of his heart.

“And yet,” he murmured, his voice dropping to something almost intimate, almost soft, “we both know better.”

You watched him, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath your palm, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat betraying none of the control he so carefully maintained. There was something intoxicating about the way Aemond looked at you—like he already owned you, like you had always been meant to stand before him like this, close enough for him to touch, close enough for him to take.

His eye flickered downward, tracing the shape of your fingers splayed against the black leather of his tunic before he released your wrist, the warmth of his touch lingering even after he pulled away. Without a word, he turned and moved back toward the head of the council table, settling into the chair with a quiet ease, as if he belonged nowhere else.

You lingered a moment longer before following, stepping forward until you reached the table. The cold stone bit into your palms as you leaned back against it, shifting just enough to let your skirts sweep over the edge. You hovered between standing and sitting, the table supporting just enough of your weight to suggest ease without fully surrendering to it. Instead, you turned your head to face him, meeting his gaze from where he sat at the head of the table. Not quite relaxed, but not so formal either. A silent challenge.

Aemond studied you from his seat, his fingers tapping idly against the wood. “You make yourself comfortable.”

You shifted slightly, the fabric of your gown whispering against the stone. “Should I not?”

The ghost of a smirk crossed his lips. “You enjoy testing me.”

You exhaled lightly, not quite a laugh, tilting your head. “Do I?”

Aemond said nothing, only watched you, the sunlight filtering through the high windows casting shifting shadows across his face. You had known him long enough to understand what that silence meant. He was considering you, weighing your presence, deciding what he wanted from you today

And you would give it to him.

His eye flickered down, a slow sweep of your gown, the delicate fabric stretched over your form in soft, yielding folds. The color was warm, too gentle against the harsh stone of the council chamber, against the cold weight of the crownless throne he had claimed.

“You do not wear this color for me,”he murmured, almost idly.

Your fingers curled against the edge of the table, the cool bite of stone grounding you. “No,” you admitted. “But that does not mean I did not come for you.”

Aemond hummed low in his throat, a sound of acknowledgment, of something almost pleased. He leaned forward slightly, resting an arm against the table, his gaze steady. “Say it, then.”

You arched a brow. “Say what, my prince?”

His lips curved, though the amusement did not quite reach his eye. “That you came for me.”

You inhaled slowly, letting the tension stretch between you, letting it coil and settle before you finally spoke.

“I came for you.”

Aemond’s fingers stilled against the wood, his gaze dark and knowing. He did not move at first, only let the weight of your words settle before he pushed his chair back slightly, rising to his feet once more.

His presence was suffocating in the best way, the sheer weight of him as he stood before you, close enough to touch, close enough to remind you of exactly why you were here.

His gloved hand lifted, fingers grazing along the curve of your jaw, featherlight but deliberate.

“And what shall I do with you, now that you have?”

Your breath hitched, the heat of his touch seeping through the delicate barrier of your composure. The chamber, vast and cold, felt smaller with him towering over you, the air between you charged and heavy. Aemond’s fingers trailed from your jaw to the delicate line of your neck, his thumb pressing gently against the pulse fluttering just beneath your skin—a subtle reminder of the power he held over you.

Your eyes did not leave his, refusing to grant him the satisfaction of your surrender, even as your body betrayed you, leaning just a fraction closer to the warmth radiating from him.

“What shall you do with me, my prince?” you murmured, your voice a low hum that barely bridged the distance between you.

Aemond’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I could send you back to your lord husband,” he said, the words a dark promise, “make you walk these halls with the knowledge of where your loyalties truly lie.”

The suggestion sent a thrill down your spine, the dangerous game you played with him only stoking the fire that had long since consumed your common sense. “And if I said my loyalty was to you?”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, a flicker of satisfaction mingled with possessiveness tightening his grip ever so slightly. “Then I would say you have chosen wisely.”

You felt his other hand settle at your waist, pulling you off the table’s edge until you were flush against him, the hard planes of his body pressing into your softer curves. The cold stone was forgotten, replaced by the searing heat of him, of the knowledge that, for now, you were his alone.

“I have chosen you,” you confessed, voice breathless against the sharp lines of his jaw. “Again and again.”

His lips found yours, the kiss consuming, leaving no room for second thoughts or regrets. Aemond’s fingers tightened at your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as his mouth moved over yours—demanding, claiming. Each press and pull was a reminder of what you had surrendered to him, of what he had taken from your husband, of the way you had given yourself willingly.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was as measured as ever, but his eye was dark, his gaze heavy-lidded and intent.

“You come to me in secret,” he murmured, his thumb brushing along your lower lip, swollen from his kiss. “And yet, I think you wish to be caught.”

You held his gaze, defiance and desire mingling in the depths of your eyes. “Perhaps I do,” you whispered. “Or perhaps I trust you to protect what is yours.”

The words struck a chord in him, a gleam of something dangerous and possessive lighting his gaze. Aemond’s hands slid down, gripping your hips firmly as he lifted you onto the edge of the council table, the hard stone pressing into the backs of your thighs through the thin fabric of your gown.

He stepped between your legs, his presence overwhelming, your skirts tangling around his knees as he closed the space between you. Aemond’s fingers splayed against your back, pulling you forward, leaving no room for hesitation or modesty.

“I will protect what is mine,” he vowed, his voice a rasp against your ear, the words sending a shiver of anticipation racing down your spine. “And you, my lady, are very much mine.”

Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the silvery strands as you pulled him into another kiss, this one slower, deeper, the taste of possession mingling with the thrill of secrecy.

He pulled away for a moment, his expression that of a determined man. Yours was tinged with confusion, but the confusion ceased when his face soon disappeared beneath the fabric, and other sensations began to take over.

Your fingers tightened in Aemond's hair as his mouth found the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. A soft gasp escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the empty chamber. His touch was deliberate, calculated, each press of his lips and scrape of his teeth designed to unravel you piece by piece.

The yellow fabric of your gown pooled around your waist, a stark contrast to the dark leather of his gloves as he gripped your hips, holding you steady against the unforgiving edge of the table. You could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the anticipation building with each passing moment.

"Aemond," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He paused, lifting his gaze to meet yours. In the afternoon light, you could see the intensity burning in his eye, the raw desire etched into every line of his face.

"Patience," Aemond murmured against your skin, his voice low and commanding. "You came to me. Now you'll take what I give you."

His words sent a shiver through you, a mix of anticipation and surrender. You relaxed back onto your elbows, the cold stone of the table a stark contrast to the heat building within you. Aemond's hands slid along your thighs, pushing them further apart as he settled between them.

The first touch of his tongue against you drew a soft gasp from your lips. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering closed as he worked you with deliberate, measured strokes. Each movement was calculated, designed to build your pleasure slowly, inexorably.

Aemond's grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as your body began to tremble.

Your fingers curled against the smooth surface of the table, seeking purchase as Aemond's ministrations intensified. The cool stone beneath you was a stark contrast to the heat of his mouth, the warmth of his hands as they held you steady. Your breath came in short, shaky gasps, each exhale threatening to form his name.

Aemond worked with the same focused determination he applied to all his pursuits. His tongue moved in deliberate patterns, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, precise flicks that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. You could feel the tension building, coiling tighter with each passing moment.

A soft whimper escaped your lips as he pulled away briefly, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice low and rough with desire.

Your eyes met Aemond's, his gaze burning with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting shadows across his face, deepening the hollows of his features and lending an almost predatory gleam to his eye.

"Good," he murmured, the ghost of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "I want you to watch as I undo you."

Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his head once more. The first touch of his tongue against you was electric, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. Your fingers curled against the table's edge, knuckles white with the effort of maintaining your composure.

Aemond's technique was relentless, each stroke of his tongue precise and measured. He knew your body well, knew exactly how to build your pleasure to dizzying heights.

Your breath hitched as Aemond's tongue swirled against your most sensitive spot. The tension within you coiled tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. Your hips strained against his grip, seeking more, always more.

"Aemond," you gasped, your voice a breathless plea. "Please..."

He hummed against you, the vibration sending a shudder through your entire body. His eye remained fixed on yours, dark with desire and something deeper, something possessive.

You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, every nerve alight with sensation. Aemond's movements became more focused, more insistent. His fingers dug into your thighs, sure to leave marks—a reminder of this moment, of your surrender to him.

The pressure built to an almost unbearable level.

Your body trembled on the edge of release, every muscle taut with anticipation. Aemond's gaze remained locked on yours, intense and unyielding, as he drove you closer and closer to the precipice.

With a final, deliberate stroke of his tongue, the tension within you shattered. A cry tore from your throat as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your back arching off the cold stone table. Aemond's grip on your thighs tightened, holding you steady as he worked you through your climax, drawing out every last shudder and gasp.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you lay sprawled across the council table, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through your body. The rustle of fabric and the soft clink of metal drew your attention back to Aemond. He stood between your parted thighs, his fingers working deftly at the fastenings of his breeches. His eye never left yours, dark with desire and something deeper, more possessive.

"Did you think we were finished?" he murmured, his voice low and rough with want.

A shiver ran through you at his words, anticipation coiling in your belly despite your recent release. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he freed himself from the confines of his clothing. The golden light spilling through the windows carved over the planes of his body, accentuating the lean muscle beneath pale skin.

Aemond's hands slid along your thighs, pushing them further apart as he stepped closer. The heat of his body radiated against you, a stark contrast to the cool stone beneath. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips as he pulled you to the edge of the table, leaving you exposed and vulnerable before him.

"Tell me you want this," he commanded, his voice low and husky.

You met his gaze, defiance mingling with desire in your eyes. "You know I do."

A ghost of a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "Say it."

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt him press against you, the promise of what was to come sending a shiver down your spine. "I want you, Aemond," you breathed. "Only you."

With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside you.

A gasp tore from your throat as Aemond filled you completely, the sudden stretch and fullness overwhelming your senses. Your fingers scrabbled for support against the smooth stone of the table, seeking something to ground you as pleasure and pain mingled in equal measure.

Aemond remained still for a moment, his eye fixed on your face, drinking in every flicker of emotion that passed across your features. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as your body adjusted to his intrusion.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice low and rough.

You forced your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. In that moment, with his silver hair gleaming and his eye burning with desire, he looked every inch the dragon prince he was.

Slowly, deliberately, Aemond began to move. Each thrust was measured, controlled, driving deep before withdrawing almost completely. The pace he set was torturous, building the tension within you with agonizing precision. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, each exhale threatening to form his name.

"Is this what you came for?" Aemond murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "To be taken on the council table, like the whore you are?"

A whimper escaped your lips, equal parts humiliation and arousal flooding through you at his words. "Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into soft flesh as he increased his pace. The sound of skin against skin echoed in the empty chamber, a rhythmic counterpoint to your gasps and moans.

Aemond's thrusts grew more forceful, driving deeper with each movement. The table beneath you creaked in protest, the sound mingling with your breathless cries. Your fingers curled against the smooth stone, seeking purchase as pleasure built within you once more.

"Look at you," Aemond growled, his eye raking over your flushed skin and parted lips. "Spread out before me like an offering. Tell me, does your husband know how eagerly you come to me?"

His words sent a tremor through you, mortification and desire coiling tight in your belly. "No," you gasped, the word slipping out in a breathless plea.

Aemond's lips curved into a satisfied smirk. "Good. Let him wonder why you return to him with bruises on your hips and my name on your lips."

Aemond’s words sent a heated rush through you, the thrill of his dominance laced with something illicit and intoxicating. His possessiveness only fueled your arousal, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The cold stone of the table bit into your skin, a stark contrast to the heat building within you.

Aemond's pace increased, his movements becoming more forceful, more desperate. His eye remained fixed on your face, drinking in every gasp and moan that fell from your lips. One hand left your hip, sliding up your body to grasp at your breast through the thin fabric of your gown.

"Mine," he growled, his fingers kneading the soft flesh. "Say it."

"Yours," you gasped, arching into his touch. "I'm yours, Aemond."

A low groan rumbled in his chest at your words.

Aemond's thrusts grew more erratic, his composure finally slipping as he chased his release. Your own pleasure built rapidly, coiling tighter with each powerful movement. The table creaked beneath you, the sound barely registering over the pounding of your heart and your breathless cries.

"Look at me," Aemond commanded, his voice rough with exertion.

You forced your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. The single eye that remained to him burned with an almost feverish light, desire and possessiveness warring in its depths. His silver hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, and his lips were parted as he panted with each thrust.

The tension within you reached its breaking point. With a cry that echoed through the empty chamber, you shattered.

Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body arching off the cold stone as your release overtook you. Aemond's grip on your hips tightened, holding you steady as he continued to drive into you, prolonging your ecstasy with each powerful thrust.

His own climax followed soon after, a low groan tearing from his throat as he buried himself deep inside you. You felt the heat of his release, your inner walls clenching around him as the aftershocks of your own pleasure rippled through you.

For a long moment, the only sound in the chamber was your shared labored breathing. Aemond remained buried within you, his body a warm weight pressing you into the unforgiving surface of the table. His eye never left yours, the intensity of his gaze unwavering even in the aftermath of your shared passion.

Finally, he withdrew, the loss of his warmth leaving you aching for more.

Aemond stepped back, his movements precise as he adjusted his clothing. You remained sprawled across the council table, your chest heaving as you caught your breath. The yellow fabric of your gown was crumpled and askew, a stark reminder of what had just transpired.

"Stand up," Aemond commanded, his voice low and even once more.

You pushed yourself up on shaky arms, sliding off the edge of the table. Your legs trembled beneath you as you smoothed down your skirts, trying to regain some semblance of composure. Aemond watched you with a critical eye, his gaze sweeping over your disheveled appearance.

"You'll need to fix your hair before you leave," he remarked, a hint of satisfaction coloring his tone. "We wouldn't want anyone to suspect."

A wry smile tugged at your lips."Of course not," you murmured, your fingers working to tame your tousled hair. "Though I suspect the marks on my hips may be harder to explain away."

Aemond's lips curved into a smirk, satisfaction gleaming in his eye. "Good. Let them serve as a reminder of where your true loyalties lie."

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His touch was gentler now, almost tender, though the possessiveness remained. "You wear yellow like an innocent," he murmured, his thumb brushing along your lower lip. "But we both know the truth of what lies beneath."

You leaned into his touch, your eyes meeting his. "And what truth is that, my prince?"

Aemond's gaze darkened, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "That you belong to me. In all ways that matter.”

A shiver ran through you at his words, desire and something deeper coiling in your belly. "Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I am yours."

Aemond's thumb traced the curve of your jaw, his touch feather-light yet possessive. "Good," he murmured, satisfaction coloring his tone. "Remember that when you return to your husband's bed."

The reminder of your marital obligations sent a pang of guilt through you, quickly overshadowed by the thrill of your illicit liaison. Aemond's hand dropped from your face, and you immediately felt the loss of his warmth.

"Go," he commanded, stepping back. "Before someone comes looking for you.”

You nodded, taking a moment to smooth your skirts and adjust your hair one final time. As you turned to leave, Aemond's voice stopped you.

"One more thing," Aemond said, his voice low and commanding.

You paused at the door, turning back to face him. Aemond stood tall and imposing, his eye gleaming in the flickering candlelight.

"Next time," he said, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine, "wear green."

A small smile played at the corners of your mouth as understanding dawned. Green, the color of House Hightower - his mother's house. A subtle rebellion against your husband's loyalties, and a clear sign of where your allegiances truly lay.

"As you wish, my prince," you murmured, dipping into a curtsy.

As you slipped out of the chamber and into the afternoon halls of the Red Keep, Aemond’s gaze seared into your back. The weight of your shared secret clung to you like a cloak, a whispered promise and a lingering threat, impossible to shake.

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euphoria-looney · 12 hours ago

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Idk if you’ve seen Nosferatu but I think a situation like that could totally apply to (Name).

Brief overview:

In Nosferatu, the main character Ellen grows up feeling lonely and isolated. She pleads for a supernatural being to arrive and comfort her and she wakes up ‘Nosferatu’ who makes her pledge herself to him fully. There’s loads of other stuff as well but I think this main idea would be interesting. Nosferatu in the movie is really, really old and ugly, but I think (Name) deserves a fit, hot vampire boyfriend/husband. But essentially he’s like a Vampire Count, aka Dracula.

How it’s play out:

(Name),as a young child, calls out for ‘Nosferatu’ (or whatever name the vampire will have) and he wakes up. He makes them pledge their complete loyalty to him for all eternally, essentially making them his ‘bride’. (Name) is comforted by him, but this connection fades as they grow older.

Then, when they turn 18, Nosferatu calls out for them in their dreams and travels to Gotham, keeping them in his manor. He’s basically a yandere in the movie anyway, so (Name) is kept quite weak and docile due to his mind control, spending most of their time doting on him or sleeping.

Now, I think it’d be interesting for the Batfam to react because the thing about Nosferatu is that the oath to him MUST be consensual, give or take MAJOR manipulation, but still, (Name) has to willingly go with him. So the Batfam have to come to terms with the fact that (Name) literally chose an obsessive, undead (but fit) vampire husband over them.

And ‘Nosferatu’ is NOT going to play fair if they try and take his bride. Literally no Dracula variant does.

I Asked For a Friend, But Got a Husband?

"I sense her in my mind, she's my collar" She's My Collar (feat. Kali Uchis)

So Much More. (Should I name this something new? Since it's a different AU?)

Special (?)

Divider Creds: @anitalenia and @qqmariztwsse

Being young, barely seen or heard, I could only busy myself with books. Even then how many books could I read before feeling that loneliness knaw on me?

Okay, dramatic I knew but who knew this one feeling would lead me to immediately get married by the age of eighteen?

I know how bad that sounds, trust me, I was the one who experienced it.

"What are you thinking about right now, honey?" I felt arms wrap around me.

Meet Elzire.

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

"Nothing much," I replied looking through our mail.

How we met, well I believe it because of this, but don't take my word for it, I might just be delusional.

I had gone to the library and saw [D/D] she ecstatically waved to me before Damian pulled her away giving me a sneer. I waved that off and looked around before spotting a book that I’d never seen before.

It had a blood red cover and the title ‘Forever’, curious, I opened it. It seemed like a child's story as they had short sentences and photos. It starts with a girl who, one day after being tired of being lonely prays to the gods of her world she doesn’t care who or what they sent no matter what they looked like or how they acted as long as they were her friends, and nice to her at least, she would be happy.

Then it happened, a boy her age descended to her and every day they would play before growing old together.

The end.

I put the book back before returning to what I was originally doing, studying for my next exam.

—

It had been a good week since I read that fantasy child’s book, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I went to the library at night when everyone was either on a mission or asleep and to my surprise the book was gone.

Someone must’ve thrown it out, there’s no reason to keep it here anyone.

I let out a sigh before heading back to my room and though I accepted the book was gone I couldn’t help but wonder, could I do that?

No, that’d be silly.

But…

It never hurts anyone to try.

“Please, whoever is out there, please accompany me and become the pillar I can lean on.”

…

Welp I tried, back to sleep I have a piano recital tomorrow no time for these goofy beliefs.

3RD POV

A figure descended into [name]’s room their black hair fluttered from the wind and their red eyes and fangs glistened in the dark of night, their hands like claws before stepping into the light a little more revealing a tall yet built man he looked angelic despite being a vampire that was friends with a demon, specially Barbatos.

He creeps a little closer to [name]’s room crouching to caress their faces. Making them blink open their eyes.

“... Am I still dreaming?” They question themself. Making the vampire chuckle holding their hands in his and asking.

“Do you mind becoming mine forever?”

“Woah, my wish worked… sure, why not.” He smiled happily placing one of their hands on his cheeks and relished in the warmth that their hand brought to his freezing complexion.

Before they had passed out.

He caught them before they could slam back onto their bed and gently laid them down.

“Don’t miss me too much.”

—

Holy crap what was that dream?

Maybe I shouldn’t mind it.

For the next few years, nothing changed except my dreams. Then I turned eighteen and it was out of pure luck that I met him, his name was Elzire.

We got married that same year after a few months of dating which I was totally against but then he convinced me and it hasn’t been like our marriage has been going great. I don’t like that he wanted me to be a stay-at-home wife.

Don’t get me wrong I appreciate him wanting this for me because he doesn’t want any workload on me but I just feel that it’s unfair for him.

Too bad the only payment he wants from me is to do simple household things but even that he just hires some housecleaning or helpers instead of letting me do it and when he comes home to get his pillow, it’s nice to play with his hair, might be better than mine.

Today again though I’m stuck at home and there’s nothing to do as I finished everything, it’s not hard when only two people are living in this house.

I went to look through the mail before finding a letter addressed to me.

It’s from Alfred, but I had never told him where I moved… It’s fine, this is Alfred we’re talking about.

“Dear young master, [name],

How have you been? It's been 7 years since we last saw you or contacted you, I managed to get a glimpse of you and was able to deliver this to you.

Your family has long awaited meeting you again, if you could give them the chance to see you that would be lovely.

Sincerely,

Alfred Pennyworth.”

I looked over my shoulder to Elzire before responding.

“I got a letter from my old butler Alfred, saying that my family would like to meet with me again.”

“So suddenly, darling?” He raised his eyebrow at that. Seems he was as lost as I was. I told him everything like he was my therapist so he knew too well himself why this wouldn’t make sense.

Despite my hesitance, I decided to go.

"Really Sweetie, you don't have to this isn't something that I would waste my time on, so neither should you." One hand on the steering wheel and the other holding my hand.

"Come on, El, I'm curious, 23 years of my life and only now do they care to see me. Wouldn't you also wonder why?"

"Wonder, not meet. but because I love you and I care for you we'll still go." He squeezed my hand a bit before softening his grip again.

We pulled up on the driveway and saw Alfred come out of the manor.

Elzire got out of the car first before opening the door for me, helping me get out.

I approached Alfred before bringing him into an embrace.

"Alfie, it's been so long." I pulled away before directing his attention to Elzire.

"This is Elzire."

"Pleasure to meet you, young sir." Alfred did his bow before leading us to the living room where the whole family was.

"[name]" [M/D] whispered, tears welling up in her eye, standing up and starting to approach me.

I smiled but didn't reciprocate the hug she was trying to give me.

"[name], we realized our mistake. it's time to come home." Bruce told me.

"Well, as much as I'm... grateful for that offer, I've already moved on and had a life, where you guys no longer matter or are related to me anymore."

"What are you-"

"This is my husband, Elzire. And I don't plan to leave him, for this."

Guys I quit on this if you couldn't notice the ending was rushed so badly, I'm so sorry to the one who sent the request I know this isn't what you would like but I kind of had a mind exploration, and now I have no idea what or how to write this request.

Maybe I'll rewrite this in the future but for now, this is the main result. If you were looking for a confrontation. It's kind of the situation of this Special.

Genuinely y'all could make your own or imagine this scenario. I have no idea what I'm doing anyway, thank you so much for reading this I don't think I'm tagging anybody on this and supporting other batfam authors, especially with all the hate that I've been seeing Luckily I haven't received anything.

Bye-bye, if anything is too unclear and grammatically wrong inform me!

Elzire:

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

-ILoveeeMoney

#platonic batfam #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #batfam x neglected reader #batfam

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cometconmain · 5 hours ago

Text

Wired is paid subscription only but I found someone on Reddit who posted the full text for everyone. (Sorry to anyone with screen readers, this is A LOT to type on my phone. I'll come back later to add it in when I have access to my computer.)

Here are some other articles I've found talking about it as well.

https://www.reuters.com/world/us/young-techies-underpin-musks-drive-slash-size-us-government-2025-02-05/

“I’ve been furloughed, I guess?” said one contractor with 15 years of experience for the bureau for humanitarian assistance, where she had helped coordinate urgent responses in Ukraine, Gaza, Somalia and Latin America. “I don’t know what my status is but I don’t think I work here right now.” By Monday, Kliger wrote an email to all staff at 12.42am to tell them not to bother coming into the building that day.

The incident has illustrated how Doge employees with Musk’s backing were able to override USAid leadership and bypass government procedures for accessing restricted areas with classified materials, fueling criticism that his agency is a national security risk.

“Did Secretary Rubio allow this kind of access by Musk’s employees?” asked Kim. “It worries me about USAid but if it’s happening here, I’m guessing it’s probably happening at all these other national security agencies.”

Formally, Rubio has delegated responsibility to Marocco, who has been pressed by congressional staffers to give details of the changes affecting USAid and the $40bn in foreign aid it manages each year. “The question at hand is: who’s in charge of the state department?” Senator Brian Schatz told the Guardian. “So far the answer has been Pete Marocco.”

Doge did not respond to questions about what security clearances, if any, the engineers held. “No classified material was accessed without proper security clearances,” wrote Katie Miller, a Doge spokesperson, on social media. But Scifs are regulated by a strict protocol and it is unclear who could have verified the Doge employees’ credentials and filed the necessary paperwork to allow them to enter.

Inside the building, staffers said that Doge cultivated a culture of fear. “It’s an extreme version of ‘who do you trust, when and how?’” said Kristina Drye, a speechwriter at the agency, who watched dozens of senior colleagues escorted out of the building by security. “It felt like the Soviet stories that one day someone is beside you and the next day they’re not.” People started meeting for coffee blocks away because “they didn’t feel safe in the coffee shops here to even talk about what’s going on”, she added. “I was in the elevator one morning and there was an older lady standing beside me and she had glasses on and I could see tears coming down under her glasses and before she got off her elevator she took her glasses off, wiped her eyes, and walked out,” she said. “Because if they see you crying, they know where you stand.”

(Btw I want to make it very clear I'm reblogging this because it's just their names and I'm not aware of or intending to support any address sharing because that would be doxxing which is unacceptable behaviour, especially when we want to make a world where collecting, sharing and using someone's personal data without their consent at all let alone to harm them is unacceptable behaviour. Their names are apparently easily seen on their own social media profiles as of this date, so it looks like their names are not currently private information. Their families also don't deserve to be harassed or attacked for these peoples' behaviour, so I don't support that either.)

These men just stole the personal information of everyone in America AND control the Treasury. Link to article.

Akash Bobba

Edward Coristine

Luke Farritor

Gautier Cole Killian

Gavin Kliger

Ethan Shaotran

Spread their names!

#uspol #america #trump #fascism #human rights #not transformers

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creatingblackcharacters · 2 days ago

Note

Hello!

I've seen mentions of how using terms like "runs their fingers through their hair" is whitewashing when you're doing a y/n or a/b/c fic.

So that got me thinking: What can you say?

Is there any way I can describe a character interacting with their own hair, or a character interacting with another character's hair, in a more universal way?

And on a different note, what about describing characters I know have 3c or 4c hair? An example of this would be nervous tics. Would it be okay to describe an anxious character yanking down on their locs during a time of crisis to self-soothe or is there something I'm missing that would make that offensive? And what about writing one character interacting with another one's hair? Even if it's as simple as "hey, can you retie my ponytail? my hands are full" I know it's a sensitive topic

I'm very sorry if this sounds ignorant. If you have time, please let me know how I can improve here. Thank you!!

There are Black Y/N writers on this list- I would highly suggest reading their works as examples, as well as even asking them their opinions and perspectives when they create!

From what I've seen, avoiding things like that in general will help you write a more inclusive Y/N fic. Everyone's hair cannot be run through, so maybe instead you find an intimate action like caressing the baby hairs at the side of the face or something. Or, if we wanna make sure the bald babes are included, just caress their cheek. Most of us have cheeks!

But hair is a very specific detail, unfortunately. You'd have to know the different types of hair in this world, and find generalities on interactions with them. Or, like I said, avoid it altogether.

I think tugging on locs as a nervous tic would make sense. It is that individual's tic, and it is also their hair. I used to be a picker when I had my afro (people thought it was mad weird).

I do have lessons on this topic, specifically this one. Vulnerability is a big one; no, I wouldn't just let anybody tie my hair in a ponytail, i.e. manhandle my body. Why would I trust anyone that's never had to consider Black hair care in my head 🤣 I don't know you!

As always, knowing why it is such a sensitive topic will help you catch yourself when you're about to write something that may be questionable. Tis a constant process! Bc I can say "this situation is racist", and you'll go "oh okay I won't do that!" And then probably be racist in a similar way later bc you didn't know WHY it was a problem.

#creatingblackcharacters #thatsjusttips #black hair

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genderqueerdykes · 2 days ago

Note

CW for a little rant, tell us if it's insensitive or something.

The number of trans, nobinary and intersex people will probably "skyrocket" (big airquotes here) in the next few decades, but then it will most likely level out. Just like being left-handed did.

The scarsity of gender diversity and especially intersexuality is artificial, it is created by opressive systems that our society is led by.

Hopefully someday we will get to the point where none of the sex characteristics are gendered and people can just be themselves.

And even if it ends up being "just" 1.7% for intersex people and "just" 1.14% for trans people, that's still a lot. We're talking about one to two procent from 8 billion!

People deserve respect and autonomy over their bodies!

And more importantly, people deserve to not be fucking killed for who they are!

kinda funny to me that people have weaponized that intersex statistic against me and how talking about intersex people is "useless" and "doesn't apply to anyone" because of how "Rare" we are. seeing how close the statistic is to the number of trans people just kinda speaks volume for how dumb that argument is. that's a lot of people!

and you're right, it's the same thing with autism and how people were going "well why are people SUDDENLY being diagnosed as autistic? that must mean they're all faking and autism isn't real." when it's like no, we really just have made strides in improving how we see autism now from the past. it "skyrocketed" because we finally started taking the issue of autism *somewhat* seriously. not enough but somewhat. it's the exact same kind of thing

thank you for sending this ask! have a great weekend!

#asks #feedback #intersex #trans #nonbinary #statistics

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justmeinadaze · 16 hours ago

Text

Curiosity (Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: When I tell you that this did things to me...omg.

I was going to do a one shot but there's a few stories to tell with this two (and I love them already so bleh!)

There is a small glimpse into future steddie activity ;)

I dedicate this to the older girlies looking for their own Eddie Munson <3

Warnings: Younger (Early 20s) Daddy (kinda camboy) Eddie & Older (early 30s) Plus Size Sub Fem Y/N, SMUT, SO MUCH dirty talk <3, daddy kink (cause I'm me), praise, semi-public (back of his van), big dick Eddie Munson, squirting, etc. FLUFF, these two work together and talk about being each others "work spouses".

ANGST, Y/N stumbles upon Eddie's "second job" on OnlyFans, struggles with the notion of telling him, reader (like myself) makes jokes about being older, weight doesn't play a factor in here and its barely mentioned. Eddie does say how beautiful and sexy he thinks her body is. I think that's it.

The main angst here is her stumbling onto his account and not telling him.

Word Count: 7874

Donate to Me <3

"Yeah, she's got those pretty eyes

But behind them lies

Thoughts of him at night she can't seem to fight

Feelings that she knows she's gonna have to feed"

You hated call center work but it paid alright and it was something you could do while you worked towards your goals of becoming something more. While the work and customers were tedious, the environment wasn’t too bad. Your manager was a sweet girl a little younger than you and the company did a bit more for its employees than the typical “You did well this quarter. Here’s a pizza party.”

Your head falls on to your desk as you hang up the phone after one of the rudest customer experiences in your life.

A slight draw back was, like your manager, a lot of the coworkers around you were younger, ranging from just graduating high school to their mid-twenties. Listening to most of these kids talk made you feel old as hell which is part of the reason you connected to the boy on the opposite side of your cubicle.

While Eddie Munson was in his early twenties, he had a slightly older soul. When he wasn’t talking to you or anyone else, he had hair metal playing in his headphones and even had that long, wild hair to match. He talked about things you remembered growing up with fondly as if he was born around the same time and when you questioned him about it, he just said he was “raised right.”

“Fun chat?”, he teased as he leaned back in his seat.

“Exciting!”, you mumbled into your arm that your head was resting on.

Eddie’s warm laugh filled your ears as his palm extended out to rub your back.

“I know, sweetheart. These fucking people can be real pricks sometimes.”

“Edward Munson.”

“Mrs. Angela.”

“Language. Just because you aren’t on the phone doesn’t mean people can’t hear you on the other end.”

You laughed as you sat up, meeting his radiate grin as he chuckles.

“Yes ma’am, Mrs. Angela. I apologize for the foul mouth I was born with.”

Your manager mumbles a soft mhmm and he continues to smile as he leans in closer to speak at a much softer volume.

“Don’t let these people walk all over you. Remember, they need your help.”, he winks before lightly poking your nose.

As the day came to a close and you both walked out together, you asked him what his plans were for the evening and he responded the same way he always did.

“Um, probably going to put in some hours at my second job. I want to put in more recording time this weekend and the fucking manager at the studio is demanding we put down payments before we can use the equipment. It’s fucking stupid. I mean it’s not like we’re taking the stuff home.”

“One day, you’ll have to let me hear you play.”, you smile his way as you throw your things into your car.

“And one day you’ll finally accept my invitation to come see us play on stage.”, he grins as he opens your car door and rests his chin on the top while he watches you put your things away.

“I think I’m too old to be hanging out in a bar.”, you giggle.

“Says who? Definitely not me because if I met a pretty lady like you at The Hideout she’d never go home alone again.”

Eddie’s smile widens and he sticks out his tongue through his teeth as you roll your eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, weirdo.”

“Bye, babe.”

After he closed your door, your eyes followed him as he pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit the end on his way to his van.

He really was a good man and utterly adorable. People in the office called him your work husband which gave you secondhand embarrassment till he himself began playing into the role.

“Hey now Mrs. Angela, don’t talk to my work wife that way. Don’t worry, baby girl, I got your back.”, he joked with the manager as he slid his arm around your shoulders.

Eddie made you laugh constantly and when you had a hard day, he was your sound board allowing you to vent. A part of you felt guilty because he seemed to know more about you than you did about him besides the fact that he wanted to be a rockstar.

You genuinely did want to hang out with him outside of work but the insecure part of you couldn’t help but always wonder why he’d even want to spend his free time with someone your age when he could be giving his attention to any of the slimmer, more attractive women his own age.

The sound of him slamming his car door brought you back into the moment as you pushed your gear into reverse and sped to your home.

***

“Hey, can I use your laptop to watch a movie in bed?”, you ask your roommate as her heels click along the floor behind where you were sitting on the sofa.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re doing with your Thursday night?”

“Relaxing after a long day at the office? Yes, Kelsey.”

“Why don’t you go out on a date or something?”

“So is that a yes or…?”

Your roommate sighs as she scurries somewhere before she wiggles the device in your peripherals and you thank her.

“Don’t judge me when you open it. I was watching this sexy guy on Only Fans. Hot damn.”, she swooned making you laugh as she quickly hugged you and hurried towards the door. “I love you! Don’t wait up for me!”

Shaking your head, you take her laptop and throw yourself on your mattress as you flip it open.

Images of cute people caught your attention and you couldn’t stop yourself as you nonchalantly began to browse. You had never signed up for one of these let alone really knew anything about the platform besides the obvious. You weren’t a prude by any means, you had just never gone down avenues like this.

There were probably millions of people on this site… so the chances of your eyes landing on a face you knew had to be astronomical.

Yet as you clicked a “featured” link, a face you very much recognized appeared front and center.

Eddie or as the name read, EddietheBanished, was smirking up at the camera with his upper torso bare showing off all the muscle you were completely unaware he had.

You should have let it go; respected his boundaries and closed the browser but it was like autopilot moved you as you clicked his link.

There he was.

The metalhead was sitting at a desk in what you assumed was his bedroom with his head hanging and hair in front of his face as he strummed his guitar. Shaking his mane, his gorgeous eyes met the camera before that sexy smile painted his lips.

“I see a lot of new ‘faces.’ Welcome. I’m a nice guy I swear. I’ll be getting started here in a minute so take your time, relax, get comfy.”

You immediately backed out and slammed the computer shut, powerwalking into your kitchen to get a glass of wine.

“No, no Y/N. He’s your friend and your coworker. Don’t invade that boundary. Don’t…”

As you took a sip of your beverage, you glared at the device that felt like it was taunting you from your bed.

“Maybe…I can make my own account and just…see what he does. Maybe he just plays guitar without his shirt on. People do that right?”

Sitting back down, you reopened the laptop and logged out of your roommates account, selecting to create your own.

“Name…name…I need a name…”

Um CurvyCorporateMillennial.

“God that’s dumb.”, you sigh at your internal thought as you upload a picture of a random flower as your profile pic and search for his name after you set everything set up.

“Alright, friends, you know the drill. You get an hour to ask me questions and tip if you wish. The private group session will begin after.”

Over the course of the hour, you listened to him talk about music and his instrument, strumming along to random songs you definitely recognized, making you smile as you watched his fingers moved. Eddie was incredibly charming, replying off every innuendo with something cute or sassy in return. You enjoyed the regular answers more than anything as he came out of his shell a bit differently than he did at work.

“Yeah, a lot of these tattoos I got because I had the money and I wanted it.”, he chuckled. “But this one here… I got for Master of Puppets and that album. Do you guys know who sings that?”

“Metallica.”

“Damn…CurvyCorporateMillennial answered that quick. Good girl.”, he chuckles making you smirk before you internally panic.

“Shit. How am I the only one who answered that, that fast?”

“My mom and my uncle really loved all kinds of music. Inspired me to learn to play…”, he sighed as his eyes went a bit glassy.

Your heart broke for him as you listened to the sad tone in his voice, wondering if something happened there. He never talked about his parents but to be fair you also never asked.

“You play very well.”

A soft smile spread across his lips as he winked at the camera causing you to bite your own lip at how fucking sexy the action genuinely was.

“Alright, we’re nearing the end of this hour. It was nice talkin’ to you guys. To my special group, I will see you in about five minutes. I hope to see you there to, Millennial.”

With that he turned off his stream, leaving you dumbfounded as you stared at your screen.

“No…there’s no way he was talking to me. There have to other people with Millennial in their name… Y/N, you’ve been here long enough and you even engaged. You need to back away now.”

The entire time you went on the hunt for your credit card, you had that debate with yourself, down to the last minute and point you hit enter.

When the new room opened, he was smiling at the camera as if he had been waiting just for you before they flicked down to the monitor in front of him. Instead of having a guitar in his lap, the metalhead displayed his palm absently rubbing his crotch through his sweats.

“Hey, guys. Thank you for your time and money. This is where the conversation gets fun.”, Eddie chuckles. “Ask away.”

“I shouldn’t be here.”

You can’t see anything displayed on the screen but you can see the reflection of words glisten within his chocolate eyes.

“Aha, no. No, Steve tonight. I did ask but he said he’s incredibly busy this week…Ok, JulieGirl, I’ll let him know you miss him. Shit, I miss him to. Man definitely knows how to leave me a mumbling mess… Yeah? You’d sit on Daddy’s cock?”

“F-Fuck me.”, you panted, completely frozen as you watched him reach into his pants and take out his dick to spit over his tip, stroking it along his shaft.

You had never thought about Eddie intimately like that but seeing him wrap his large palm around his girth had your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Fuck, no, wrong!”, you shout as you close the browser and slam the laptop closed.

##################

“Hey, sweetheart.”, Eddie murmured while his hand rubbed along your back as he flopped down in his seat beside you. This was an action he did everyday which is why he was startled when you gasped and jumped in your chair. “Whoa! You alright, honey? Too much coffee?”, he joked, nervous when you didn’t laugh.

“I’m fine.”, you replied curtly, choosing to focus on your computer in front of you.

For the rest of the day, you avoided his gaze and kept your head down to work. During your lunch you two would usually sit together but today when he asked if you wanted to go anywhere, you declined and gestured towards your monitor.

As soon as he clocked out, you waited for him to exit the floor, clocking out as well before following. You hid when you noticed him waiting for the elevator, counting to 30 after he got on and the door closed before pressing the button to ride your own.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you prayed you’d miss him coming back in, your eyes widening in surprise when the elevator door opened and Eddie was leaning against the opposite wall.

“Hey, um, oh fuck. I forgot something—”

As the doors began to close again, the metalhead took long strides forward and his palm loudly smacked against the bumpers causing them to slowly open once more.

“Did I do something to make you mad?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Did I say something or do something to offend you?”

“Pfft, Eddie, what are talking about?”, you reply as nonchalantly as possible while stepping around his broad frame and heading for the parking lot.

“Oh, come off it, Y/N. You’ve barely said two words to me and now you’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you—”

“Just tell me what I did wrong—!”, he shouts as he reaches for your bicep to get you to slow down but pauses when you abruptly turn and glare his way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…grab you… I just…I don’t like this…you treating me like most of the people in this fucking town.”

“Huh?”, you inquire, genuinely confused.

“Shit. I forget you’re not from here sometimes. Um, let’s just say I don’t have many friends. I know we don’t really hang out outside of the building but I like talking to you. It would seriously break my heart if you never spoke to me again.”

Your own heart cracked hearing the sincerity in his voice as his gaze shifted to his feet like a nervous kid.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything. I’m just…I have a lot on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”, he asks. “As your work husband it’s my duty to hear about my work wife’s woos.” As you laugh at his joke, a sigh of relief leaves his chest.

“No, I’ll be alright.”

“Ok…may I buy you lunch, my lady?”

***

You exhaled as you got home and threw yourself flat on your bed, exhausted from the day and your constant thoughts about what you had seen the night before.

You considered just telling him what you saw but you didn’t want to embarrass him nor did you want to come off like some kind of pervert. You knew he had a “second job” but you never asked what it was mostly because you didn’t want to pry.

He seemed so hurt today when you ignored him and it didn’t help that you were now pent up, needing a release after hearing him talk the way he had.

Your phone dinged and originally you ignored it, thinking it was most likely your roommate who was letting you know that she got to work safely like she always did being that she worked a late-night shift at one of the restaurants nearby.

When you finally looked at the screen, you were surprised to see a notification from the OnlyFans account.

Your private session with EddietheBanished starts in five minutes.

“Huh? I didn’t…”

Once again you debated with you internal self as you got to your feet and headed to grab your roommate’s device.

“I can log in and just tell him ‘Hey it’s Y/N. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have clicked on your thing…’ Yeah…Ok, Y/N.”

As soon as you opened the browser and signed in, you made sure the camera was off as you entered the session link sent to you.

“Hey, Millennial.”, Eddie’s sultry voice cooed as he smiled at the screen. “I hope it’s alright. I scheduled this session here. I noticed you left the group thing before it really started and since you paid for it, I thought it only fair to do this so you don’t feel like you wasted your money.”

Your face softened at his kind confession as you sighed and began to type.

“You didn’t have to do that. You seem very sweet. I wouldn’t have felt like I wasted my money at all.”

“Aw, thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate that. May I ask why you left so abruptly?”

“I…”

“It felt wrong.”

The metalhead blinked as he nodded and leaned back in his chair as his palm absently rubbed his tummy, the action in itself filling your own stomach with little butterflies.

“You’re not an OnlyFans normal, are you, honey?”

“Not really no. I was borrowing my roommate’s laptop and when I opened it I saw your face. I got curious.”

“It’s alright to be curious. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I seem to be unintentionally doing that.”, he chuckles causing your head to tilt.

“What makes you say that?”

“Oh, you don’t want to hear about my problems.”

“No, please. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just… I work at this boring ass job during the day but the only person that keeps me sane seemed upset at me today…kinda scared me. My coworkers call her my work wife.”

“I’m sure she just had a lot on her mind.”

“Hm, that’s what she said but…she doesn’t really talk to me about her personal life. I hope everything is ok. I invite her out sometimes but she always declines…says she’s ‘too old’.”, he laughs as he shakes his head.

The two of you casually talked for what felt like minutes before you glanced at your phone and realized it had actually been over four hours. Eddie opened up to you, talking about his family especially his uncle, his dreams of being a rock & roll legend, and things he enjoyed like D & D.

“I know absolutely nothing about that game! Lol. I wish I did though. It seems like fun.”

“Oh, baby, it is. Maybe you’ll let me teach you one day…see that pretty face behind the flower…”

“Pfft, how do you know my face is pretty? Lol.”

“Because how can a gorgeous soul like yours not be gorgeous.”

Eddie’s words gave you pause as your breath caught in your throat. He had said it with so much confidence to that you couldn’t help but physically hide behind your hands.

“I hope I’m not being too forward. I don’t mean to make you nervous or anything.”

“No…you don’t make me nervous…I think you’re just wasting that charm on someone my age.”

“Hm, well, I may be younger but I can still be Daddy.”

As he winks at the camera and smiles your whole body comes to life.

“Eddie…there’s something I should tell you��”

“Did I move to fast? I’m sorry. It’s so weird but I feel like I’ve known you for years, you know? Fuck, probably sounds like a line.”

His hair moves from side to side as he shakes him head in shame and laughs making you laugh along with him.

“It does but that’s alright. I’ve never done anything like this before. Not just the whole online thing but…the Daddy thing… God, that sounds so stupid.”

“No, no, baby, you don’t sound stupid. May I ask, sweetheart…did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“Hearing me refer to myself that way; as Daddy.”

“Yes.”

Eddie’s smile stretches across his face as he bites his bottom lip and leans back in his seat.

“I wish I could see you. I’m picturing you like blushing and being all giggly. Fuck, the thought of seeing you like that turns me on.”

Your breath shakes at his words as your thighs rub together.

“You’ve spent so much time talking and getting to know me, baby, I’d like to return the favor.”

“How?”

Scooting his chair a bit closer to the camera, he adjusts his body so you can see more of his lap and chest.

“How’s this, sweetheart? Got a good view?”

“I can’t see your face very well.”

You vaguely catch it as his cheeks turn a bright crimson and he smirks as he messes with the camera once more so you can see all his face a bit better.

“Most people on here want to see my abs or my cock.”

“With partners, I like seeing their eyebrows scrunch together or their mouth fall open.”

“Hear that whimper most men try to hide under their heavy breaths.”

“Fuck me, honey. You definitely have a way with words. I like it. What, um, damn, you threw me a bit off my groove there.”, he chuckles as his palm rubs up his pec and over his opposite shoulder.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Maybe…we can talk next weekend. I can schedule the session myself this time.

“Would it be too forward if I asked for your phone number? I’d love to talk with you through the week.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Eddie.”

“Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

####################

You tried so many times to tell him about finding his account and how you were the girl he spoke with that Friday night, you really did. But the longer you waited, the harder it became.

When he came in that Monday morning, Eddie had a different glow about him as he lightly tugged your hair and said hello.

The week went by like normal and you spent every day hyping yourself up, finally deciding you would tell him on Saturday after surprising him by seeing him play at The Hideout. You figured he’d be in such a good mood that you showed up to see him, maybe he wouldn’t be so angry after you told him the truth.

When you opened the bar entrance door, you were met with loud blaring music and a lot of young voices chatting over the music. Mumbling small apologies, you pushed past people to find a table near the stage hoping you’d be able to catch his eyeline so Eddie knew you were there.

Lucky for you, they were already on stage preparing their equipment so you hastily snuck to the corner and called his name. When his chocolate eyes met yours, he smiled wide before seeming to freeze as he took you in.

You weren’t sure what was normal for bar attire so you went with a green spaghetti strap dress with matching heels and light make up to accentuate your features.

“Hey! I hope I’m not distracting you. I just wanted you to know—”

“Hey, no. No, no. You’re not…distracting me…”, Eddie interrupted as he jumped down from the stage to give you a hug.

Fuck, he smelled amazing.

“Wow, sweetheart, you look gorgeous. I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”

“I wasn’t sure what was normal or…”

“Pfft, fuck normal.” As his eyes continued to run along your face, you both seemed to realize he hadn’t taken his arms off your waist after your embrace. “Fuck…I’m sorry… I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. Usually, I’m a lot smoother than this.”

“Are you?”, you tease causing his grin to reappear as he takes a step back and pokes your nose.

“There’s my work wife I know and love. Alright, I have to finish getting ready but please stay afterward and let me buy you a drink, ok?”

***

“Eddie, oh my God, you were amazing! I didn’t know you could play like that!”, you continued to compliment as he laughed, chugging back another bottle of beer in his grasp.

“Thank you, baby. Now, if you could advocate for us to get more record time so we can actually get something out.”

“Whatever you need. Do you have a shirt or maybe I can get a tattoo on my forehead.”

You giggle as he laughs and shakes his head.

“No, Y/N. Would be a shame to damage a gorgeous face like yours.”, Eddie smirks as you bite your lip.

“So, did your mom teach you to play guitar like that or did your uncle?”

The metalhead blinks, slightly taken aback.

“What would make you say that? My mom or my uncle and not like my dad?”

“Oh, um, we’ve talked about your uncle before and you’ve never really mentioned your father so I just assumed… I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry.”, he sighs as his gaze shifts to the table. “My mom got me into music but my uncle taught me to play my guitar. My dad taught me other bullshit like how to hot wire a car and how to spend the rest of your life in prison.”

Your heart breaks for him and on impulse you lean your head on his shoulder as you place your palm over his.

“Yeah, this is why I don’t usually talk about myself.”

“You can always talk to me, Eddie.”

The man smiles softly as he lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulders and pull you closer to his side.

“I’m glad you came, Y/N. It was nice seeing you out here bobbing your head and cheering for me.”

You laugh as he tilts his head against yours and his hand slides from your shoulder down your bicep.

“I’m your wife. I thought it was about time to come see my husband play his loud records for the youngens.”

Eddie’s throat vibrates as he chuckles through his teeth but you barely notice as you nuzzle your nose into his neck and inhale the smell of his cologne.

“You always talk like you were born in 1943 or something.”

“Psh, my body makes me feel that way sometimes.”

“Now why do I doubt that? With a body like yours, honey, I bet you feel better than any of these other girls.”

Leaning your head back, your eyes lock with his as your hand comes up to rest on his cheek so your thumb can caress his bottom lip.

Just as his mouth is about to press to yours, you gasp as you push away from him.

“Oh my God…Eddie…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

As he watches you panic, confusion floods his face and freezes him in place until you hurriedly push out the front door. Before you make it to your car, a ringed palm grabs your arm, pushing your back against an adjacent van as he crashes his lips to yours.

It was a messy kiss but fuck did it taste fucking good.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he allowed you both a moment to catch your breath as his tall, broad frame kept you boxed in.

“Please, Y/N. I want this…I want you…I want to feel you…”, Eddie whispered as his mouth ghosted your neck to your ear and your eyes rolled shut at the sound. “I want to taste you and hear all the noises you make, baby.”

“F-Fuck…Daddy…”

“Uh my God.”, he breathily panted as his hand absently reached for the door handle and opened the back. “It’s ok…this is mine…I promise.”

The metalhead didn’t even wait for a response as he lifted you by your waist and placed you inside, shutting the door behind him.

As you crawled backwards further into the back of his van, he hastily climbed up your body to attach his mouth to yours again. Placing his knee between your legs, you took advantage desperate for friction to relieve the ache making you dizzy with need.

“That’s it, baby girl, use Daddy’s leg. Fuck, I can feel how wet you are.”

Your fists grabbed at his shirt as you moaned against his lips.

“Are you gonna cum, sweetheart? What a desperate little thing.”

The rhythm of your hips hastened as your grip on him tightened and your back arched as the coil snapped.

“Good, good girl. Fuck.”

As his mouth attached to your throat, your fingers reached between you two and sloppily fumbled with his belt as he reached back to help you pull his pants just below his ass.

“Holy shit.”, he whispered as your palm took hold of his incredibly hard cock and moved the cotton blocking your core to the side to allow him entry. “Fuck, baby.”

Your arms came around to cling to his shoulders as his head fell into your nook and he set a steady pace.

“Oh my God, Eddie…your dick is so big…” He grunted at your words as he rolled his hips, pushing his length as deep as your pussy would allow and then some. “I’ve never…I’ve had anyone so… fuck…”

“Tell me, honey, please.” When you don’t immediately respond, he lifts his head to kiss you. “You can do it, beautiful.”

“I-I’ve never had anyone so deep.”

“Fuck, baby girl. Tell Daddy how you want me to make you cum again. Do you want it slow?”, he asks as he gradually pulls all the way back till it’s just his tip before thrusting back into you. “Or do you want it fast and hard?”

“Faster, please.”, you beg as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Eddie does what you ask, his head falling again as he roughly pounds into your cunt. Your fingers tangle in his hair and his own palm slides behind your back, holding you to him as your body trembles and your pussy squeezes him like a vice as you cum.

“Shit…good, baby. Fuck, you choke my dick when you cum…so fucking tight…where do you want my cum, honey.”

“In-Inside, Eddie, please.”

He started to lift his head to make sure you were sure, but your hand kept him against your throat as you rolled your hips to meet his eliciting a loud grunt from him as his mouth fell open.

His whole frame collapsed on top of you as his pace faltered and you felt his release paint your walls. The strangled groan followed by his heavy pants were the sexiest things you had ever heard and as you lazily turned to look at his face his mouth was waiting.

Compared to his other kisses, this one was much more tender.

A soft kiss between two people who had known each other and been friends for a long time. When he pulled back, his chocolate eyes met your irises as his fingers caressed your cheek.

After a few moments, he silently pulled out of you, kissing your forehead when you winced before crawling towards his glove box and rifling through it.

“Shit. I thought I had tissues… Ok, um, let me grab some napkins real quick from inside and then…if you’re up to it…maybe we can go to the diner and have some dinner…talk?”

You nod, smiling as he fumbles with his own pants and belt while almost falling out of his van before catching himself on the door.

“Fucking shit! Uh, I swear I’m more, uh, graceful than that…ok, I’ll be right back.”

################

Eddie was an absolute gentleman that night; taking you to dinner where you got to know him a bit better. Afterward, he drove you home and walked you to your door with a smile that you returned with a soft kiss.

After closing your door, you looked through the peephole to find him beaming wide before throwing his hands in the air in victory and heading back to this car.

You dreamt about his arms around you and thought about him all morning, the subtle soreness between your legs a constant reminder.

“Hey. Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you and I hope you’re feeling ok. I have to work tonight for a bit but maybe after I can call and we can talk?”

You smiled at his text before the realization hit you that his “work” was the website and he still had no idea you were one of the accounts he was talking to. As if to emphasis that a point, a notification flashed on your screen reminding you that you had a session scheduled with Eddie the Banished later that evening.

Opening the computer, you sat there preparing your speech and apology, ready to tell him everything but when his face illuminated your screen it gave you pause. Before when you saw him online, he usual had on just sweats or boxers but this time he was wearing a long sleeve shirt with a Dio album on the front.

Still donning black sweats, he had his hair pulled up and out of his face making you smile.

“Hey, sweetheart. I hope it’s ok but I need your advice.”

“You want my advice?”

“Yeah. You seem incredibly smart and with our last conversation I know you’re easy to talk to.”

As Eddie grinned nervously, you couldn’t help but blush as your fingers flew along the keyboard.

“How can I help?”

“Ok, so I was playing my show last night and this girl…woman…I work with finally showed up to see me. I’ve been asking her for months to come and each time she said she couldn’t for one reason or another. Usually because she said she was ‘to old’.”, he laughs, rolling his eyes. “She’s not. She’s probably the same age as you since she’s a Millennial to but anyway… I loved seeing her come out of her shell, you know? She danced in her seat and headbanged; it was so fucking cute.”

As his smile grew at the thought you bit your bottom lip at the sight.

“After the show, things got…intimate… and, um, so I guess my question is…how do I tell her about this?”, he asks as he gestures towards his computer and camera. “I don’t want her to think I’m like…a whore or something. I do this for the money because call centers pay their fucking employees jack shit. Add in the fact that I still kind of need to do it because my band and I are SO close to finishing this record but I don’t want her to be uncomfortable or feel like I’m cheating or something. I’m not my dad… I don’t fucking know…”

“Honey.”, you type as he covers his face with his palms. “Breathe. It’s ok. The fact that you’re even thinking of all this I’m sure will mean a lot to her. Eddie, I have to tell you something.”

“I just don’t want to lose her. No one has ever made me feel the way she does. At work I get a glimpse of what a relationship with her would be like and I love it. She’s so funny and sweet. Whenever she’s frustrated, her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk and she sighs like she wants to throw her computer out the window. When she smiles, the entire room lights up. She’s so beautiful, you have no idea.”

“Have you told her any of this?”

“Before last night I didn’t think I stood a chance. In my hometown, people don’t exactly like me. The Munson name carries a lot of weight because of my dad. He conned so many people here and add in the fact that I grew up in a trailer… they see me as trash. It would kill me if she saw me the same way.

“No, Eddie. She would never think that.”

“Then she makes jokes a lot about her age and sometimes I get worried that she’d see me as like a kid or something. I’m highly aware that a man her own age could probably give her way more than I ever could but… I don’t know. Maybe if she can call me Daddy like she did…she can see me as someone who can take care of her because I will, honey. I don’t care what I have to do.”

“Sounds like you already know what you have to do :). Just talk to her, baby. She… she may surprise you herself.”

“She surprised the hell out of me last night. When she called me Daddy, I almost fucking came in my jeans. I’m sorry. Don’t mean to be crude.”, he grins as he sticks out his tongue towards the camera.

“It’s ok lol So it was good? The intimacy?”

Eddie’s gaze shifts off camera as his teeth drag along his bottom lip.

“We’re friends right?”

“Of course.”

“It was the best I’ve ever had, Millennial. Fuck, her lips tasted amazing. I can only imagine what her pussy tastes like. Shit… It happened so fast I wasn’t able to take my time with her but next time… I’m going take her on a date Friday if she says yes. I want to take her to dinner and really make her feel special. She deserves that. Then I’m going to explore her gorgeous body till she’s begging me to stop.”

Your thighs rubbed together at his words as that similar ache between your legs lit a fire in your belly.

Without thinking about it, you grabbed your phone and texted his number.

“Eddie when will you be free??”

Instantly, you heard vibration on his side of the stream and watched as he leaned forward to grab his device. As he smiled down at the screen, you felt your need for him rise as you watched his long, thick fingers fly along the phone’s keyboard.

What is it about this man that has you feeling like this?

“I can be free now. Why? Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just…”

“Do you think you could come over?”

“Hey, uh, Millennial, I have to go but I’ll keep you updated. Maybe next time you can give me your number and we can keep in touch. I may need more advice!”

Your brain is too foggy to register how that will be a problem later as you type out your goodbyes and he signs off. A moment later, another text from him comes through to your phone.

“Yeah, I can be there in ten minutes. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I need Daddy.”

The three dots flash on you screen for a millisecond before he replies, “I’m on my way, baby.”

***

Eddie’s fist barely has a chance to knock before you’re opening your apartment door and tugging him inside by his collar, roughly bringing his lips to yours.

“Ro-Roommate?”, he asks as his eyes briefly notice the two bedrooms.

“Work…works…overnight…”, you answer between passionate kiss as you tug off his leather jacket and he lifts up your shirt tossing it aside. “Need you…please…”

“I got you, sweetheart. Daddy can take care of you.”

You practically melt into his embrace, backing him into the living room wall and yanking off his shirt so you could drag your lips down his chest as you start to descend to your knees before he grabs your arm.

“No, no, honey. I said Daddy is taking care of you.” With one swift turn he spun you around, placing his palm beside your head to steady himself. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Can I taste you, baby?

Eddie smirks when you emphatically nod and places a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Can you say it?”, he whispers. “Tell me what you want.”

His eyes stay on yours as he slowly falls to his knees and his palms reach up to pull down your underwear till you were completely naked. While his lips gently pecked along your belly, your own hand reached out to pet his head.

“I want you to feel your t-tongue in my pussy.”

As his smile grows, Eddie abruptly lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and dives into your cunt, doing what you requested. With every flick of the muscle between his teeth, you felt yourself falling deeper into euphoria. This metalhead definitely knew what he was doing and reveled in it as his tongue roamed.

“Oh…Oh my God, Eddie. Just like that…”

Your fingers pressed him harder against you and his moan vibrated through you at the sensation. As he picked up his pace, his mouth overwhelmed you as he sucked and made out with your clit till he felt your body quiver as you came.

Rising to his feet, you circled your arms around his neck as he slid his middle and ring fingers inside of you trying to elongate your high.

“I knew it. I knew you tasted like fucking heaven. Fuck, such a good girl.”

After pushing down his sweats, you licked your palm and wrapped it around his girth, his glassy eyes fluttering at the feeling.

Eddie’s free hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head so he could see your face.

“Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you, pretty girl. I’m gonna make you cum so fucking hard on my cock. Goddamn, I keep thinking about how tight your little pussy gets when she cums. Fuck, baby, you drive me crazy.”

You suddenly let him go as your hand flew down to grab his wrist trying to push him away as you whined.

“No, no, sweetheart. Don’t run from it. Daddy’s got you. Give in to it. I’m right here.” At his murmured words, you continued to cling to him as your hips rolled against his fingers. “Atta girl. I know, I know. Cum again for Daddy, baby.”

A string of uhs left your lips as his eyes remained glued to your face and your nails dug into his skin as the coil snapped.

“Goddamn, you are so fucking sexy.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as his mouth latched onto your neck and you carefully guided him to your bedroom while tried to stumble out of his pants.

“Motherfuck—I swear I can walk.”, he jokes as you both fall naked onto your bed.

“Well, only if your pants are on correctly.”

Eddie laughs as he pushes up on his forearms to look down at your beaming features. Your index finger gradually extends to caress his cheek and along his chin, grazing the light stubble that clung to his skin.

“You’re handsome.”

At your compliment, his jaw flexes as he tries to contain the obnoxiously huge smile that wants to stretch from ear to ear at your adorable tone.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I mean it. I always thought you were.”

“Yeah?” You nod, biting your bottom lip to contain your own smile. “You want to know a secret?”

“Hm?”

Eddie crawls a bit further up your frame, gently kissing your jawline till he finds the shell of your ear.

“I always thought you were beautiful to, baby.”

Utilizing his knee, he pushes your legs further apart as he grinds his cock between your dripping pussy lips but before he could guide himself inside of you, your hand lightly pushed on his hip as you gently pulled his hair.

His face flooded with concern as his eyes scanned you over.

“I want to see your face this time, Daddy…Please…”

A relieved chuckle left him; thankful you were ok.

“You’re going to kill me, honey.”

Licking his lips, you watch as Eddie’s eyes momentarily shifted to the void as he reached between your bodies and pressed his mushroom tip to your entrance. When his irises found yours again, he brought his arm back around and tenderly petted your head as he slowly thrust his cock inch by inch.

“You’re doing good, baby girl…taking me so he well.”, he praised when he noticed your eyebrows twitch in what appeared to be pain. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Do you need me to go slower?”

“No…No, Daddy. You’re… you’re just…”

“Yeah? Just what, princess?”

“You’re so big.”

“I know, baby, I know but you’re doing so good. I’m almost all the way in.”

“Y-You can…you can go harder…you d-don’t have to be so—fuck—gentle.”

Eddie stops moving for a moment as he smirks down at you before suddenly smacking his hips into yours eliciting a loud moan from deep within you.

“Like that?”, he teases as he pounds into you again. “I told you…Daddy’s got you.”

Finding a faster rhythm, he kept his intensity as he repeatedly abuses that sensitive, spongy spot deep within you that has your mind reeling.

Pushing upright onto his knees, the metalhead pressed your thighs flat into the mattress as he watched himself disappear inside your cunt.

“Shit—your pussy feels too fucking good. Cum again, Y/N. Cum on Daddy’s dick, baby.”

“Something…something’s different…”

Eddie slows for a fraction of a second before he realizes what’s about to happen.

He sees it all over you scrunched face.

Licking his thumb, he presses it to your clit as he keeps a steady pace. Again, your hand tries to grab at his wrist but he’s much stronger than you as your movements don’t deter him.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. Daddy’s right here, baby. Just let it happen.”

A wave of pleasure stronger than you had ever experienced before washes over you as the ball in your tummy drops and you scream his name.

“Atta girl! Fuck, Y/N.”, he groans, his thrusts faltering as he pumps his release deep inside you. “Fuck…it’s ok…you’re ok.”, he pants. “I’ve…I’ve never made a girl squirt before.”

It took him a moment but it was only then that he realized you were crying.

“Hey. Hey, hey, what’s wrong, baby. Talk to me.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you hug him and he continues to try and comfort you. “Everything’s alright, Y/N.”

“I-I-I’ve never done that before. I…ruined the moment…”

“Oh, honey, no. No, you didn’t ruin anything.”, Eddie cooed as he moved back to allow you to sit up and he could wipe your eyes with his thumbs. “What just happened was incredibly fucking hot.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, beautiful girl, it was. I’m honored to be the first guy to make you cum hard like that. I mean…of course being your husband only IIII can do that…”

At his joke, you laugh as you reach out to lightly hit his bicep as he giggles along with you.

“How about this? Let’s get you into a bath and all clean, then I can change the sheets and get you in some nice comfy pajamas.”

“Will…will you lay with me after?”

Caressing your cheek, he leans towards you to gently kiss your lips.

“Of course.”

After your bath, Eddie gave you some alone time to complete any needs you felt you needed to complete before bed and as soon as you were done, you stepped out of your bathroom to find him just finishing making the bed.

“I hope this is alright. I found these sheets in a closet in the hallway.”

“These are actually my roommates.”

“Oh… well…sheet.”, he jests, smiling when you breathy laugh. “Sorry, bad joke.”

“I like it.”

Stepping towards him, you grab his arm and push him under the covers so you could curl up into his side. Lifting his arm, he circles it around your shoulder and you pleasantly sigh as he plays with your hair.

“At some point, sweetheart, we’re going to have to talk about this…us…”

“Is that bad?”

“No, fuck, I made it sound like it was going to be. I just…there’s some things I need you to know…about me…my life—”

Your palm cuts him off as your eyes meet his.

“Later. Tonight, I just want to be close to you like this.”

“Yeah…”, he sighs before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. “Me to.”

###################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @twirls827 @micheledawn1975 @chelebelletx @hardladyheart @spiderxbatty @twirls827

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checkeredflagggs · 23 hours ago

Text

Febuwhump Day 8: Bleeding Out

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

a/n3: sorry Pierre but I’m not gonna give you the perfect no damages season that you had

y/n_rb

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 2,193,429 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, redbullracing

y/n_rb: what a year it’s been…from car crashes to new girlfriends to lessons in menacing, 2024 you have been a dream!

I want to thank Redbull for taking a chance on me — hopefully I was worth it! Max, you have been absolutely the best teammate I could have asked for! Oscar and Logan, I am so glad we got to fulfill our dream of racing together this year! And Mr. Fenando sir it’s been a pleasure! I’ll make sure to make use of all of your advice!

One last race left! Abu Dhabi here we come!

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user1: anyone else catching those threatening tones in that last sentence??

↳y/n_rb: what tones???

↳user2: the very sweet tones you always talk in!

↳y/n_rb: that’s better!

↳user1: girl you’re kinda scary…

↳y/n_rb: 😁😁😁

oscarpiastri: you’re being suspiciously nice…what did you do!

↳logansargeant: why is my mom calling me!?! What did you do!!

↳y/n_rb: 😁😁

↳oscarpiastri: did you seriously call our mothers to plan a group vacation?

↳logansargeant: I want to use winter break as a time to get away from you! Stop invading my family time!

↳nicolepiastri: boys please be nicer to y/n! She was so kind to invite us on a European trip this winter!

↳oscarpiastri: stop trying to steal my mom!!

↳y/n_rb: who’s trying? I already won liked by nicolepiastri, hattiepiastri

↳oscarpiastri: I’m throwing things at you 🍎🛞🪨

user3: girl don’t remind us you haven’t been resigned yet 😭😭

user4: sooo did you like take actual notes from Alonso’s lessons or…

↳y/n_rb: if I told you, I’d have to kill you

↳redbullracing: y/n you can’t say that. please refer to the handbook, page 229

↳fernandoalo_oficial: Puede que ella no pueda pero yo lo haré. She might be able to but I will.

↳user5: i can’t believe we all forgot about her grid father 🙈 liked by y/n_rb

maxverstappen1: It certainly was…an experience…having you as a teammate

↳y/n_rb: don’t lie! I know I’m your favorite

↳danielricciardo: those are fighting words!

↳y/n_rb: bring it old man Aussie!! I bite

↳danielricciardo: stop calling me old! And threatening to bite me

↳oscarpiastri: it’s not a threat — she does

↳user6: if Daniel is old man Aussie — what are Oscar and Mark?

↳y/n_rb: baby Aussie and ancient Aussie

↳user6: 😂😂😂

↳aussiegrit: kid…

↳oscarpiastri: do you see what I have to put up with? redbullracing please don’t resign her

↳y/n_rb: well that’s fucking rude!

↳redbullracing: 🫢🫢🫢

↳y/n_rb: wait what does that mean?!?

francisca.cgomes: Mon amour! My love!

↳y/n_rb: run away with me

↳pierregasly: I’m gonna run you over

↳y/n_rb: try it!

alexandrasaintmleux: Ce fut un plaisir de faire votre connaissance cette année! It was a pleasure to get to know you this year!

↳y/n_rb: my offer still stands! I can treat you so much better

↳charles_leclerc: S'en aller! Go away!

↳alexandrasaintmleux:😘😘

↳charles_leclerc: Alex…

↳y/n_rb: haha

user7: I’ll certainly miss you terrorizing everyone…

↳y/n_rb: even if I’m not a driver, I’ll still be doing that!

↳charles_leclerc: fuck

↳pierregasly: non

↳oscarpiastri: please no

↳y/n_rb: 😁😁

liked by user, user, user and 3,723,183 others

tagged: pierregasly, y/n_rb

f1: and that’s major contact between redbullracing’s y/n_rb and alpinef1team’s pierregasly. This is not the first time this season these 2 have crashed together. The race is currently under red flag as the marshals work to clear the track of debris.

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user8: of course it was those 2…

user9: they couldn’t resist one last crash to finish off the season could they…

user10: it’s taking a while for the marshals to remove them from the car isn’t it?

↳user11: yeah…it doesn’t usually take this long unless something has happened…

↳user12: god I hope they’re both alright…

user13: did they have to bring in extra medical cars???

↳user14: they did — it’s not looking good…

↳user13: fuck

f1gossippage

liked by user, user, user, and 1,923,284 others

f1gossippage: during the beginning laps of Abu Dhabi - y/n l/n and Pierre Gasly made contact that resulted in a red flag. After a lengthy delay, extra medical cars were called to the site of the crash where both l/n and Gasly were cut from their cars. They were both rushed from the scene — it looked like they were bleeding out pretty badly…

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user15: I was right above them — it did NOT look good but they were both seemingly conscious

↳user16: Jesus…at least they were conscious?

↳user17: that is a good sign (I think)

user18: has anyone official said anything?

↳user20: not that I could tell but the race has been started again…

user21: I can’t even imagine going out again to race after seeing that crash

↳user22: those drivers are stronger than me for real

user23: listening to their radios right now — everyone keeps asking for updates on them!

↳user24: are they getting updates?

↳user23: everyone is being told that there are no updates yet

↳user24: ugh…

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @Voidvannie @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @yawn-zi

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gold-onthe-inside · 22 hours ago

Text

pair programming - part ii

navigator

who? spencer reid (s3) x analyst!reader summary: what happens after your roommate and better half is shot on the doorstep of your building by her date. turns out, you're support network seems to have more nodes that you'd thought. content warnings: reference to guns + gunshot injury, surgery, blood word count: 2.1k a/n: realised after writing this that reader has more interactions with everyone on the team than she does with penelope oops

Spencer handed you a cup of tea, sitting down beside you in the hospital waiting room, the rest of the team milling around, waiting for news on Penelope’s surgery. You hadn’t said a word about what happened, the team relying on a police officer and a paramedic’s account while you sat there in catatonic shock, blood staining your white shirt, your hoodie doing more work in hiding it. You could still feel the blood on your hands, stained from pressing down on Penelope’s gunshot wound.

Spencer didn’t know what to do or say, just pressing the warm beverage into your hands, Emily and JJ murmuring in the corner.

“Has anyone told Morgan yet?”

“He isn’t answering the phone.”

“Is she?”

“Still in shock. Hasn’t said a word.”

“And Penelope?”

“All we know is a gunshot wound to the chest, and that they’re operating now.”

Spencer’s eyes are still on you, a shell of yourself, unable to reconcile the person he sees with the person he knows. He knows you deal with threats far greater than the ones they do — they’ve just come back from arresting a cannibal, you prevent military secrets getting out and uncover espionage attempts. But it’s from the safety of a digital interface, the day to day of it so mundane that it makes him want to pull his eyeballs out. Your job doesn’t get you shot. Technically, Penelope’s job shouldn’t have gotten her shot either.

No-one was paying attention to him, or to you, which is why he’s on his knees in front of you, aligning his gaze with yours, and does one of the few things he knows how to do; explaining. He put the tea down on the floor, taking hold of your hands, your eyes distant, your fingers cold. If he couldn’t do anything for Penelope, maybe there was something he could do for you.

“When the brain experiences trauma it has an affect on the sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous system.” He said the words quietly, a distraction technique to bring your focus to something, even if it was nothing. “The physiological response is a fight or flight response. When your brain is unable to process the situation, it freezes in an effort to protect your mind and body. You might feel numb, or cry, or rage. You might just sit there, emotionally unable to move. You might dissociate, and feel like nothing around you is real, or that it‘s actually happening to someone else.” He squeezed your hands, hoping for a response. It felt like you weren’t even there.

“I can’t imagine how scared you must be, and I’m not going to try and tell you that everything will be okay, because it may not-,” and he hated saying the words, they felt like a lie in his mouth, but it was the truth “-but whatever happens next, I am here. I won’t leave, not unless you ask me to.”

“I can’t lose her,” you whispered. Thank god, Spencer thought as he looked at you again, and while he knew there wasn’t anything he could say that would make it all better, he also knew that the fact that you were finally verbal was probably a positive. You hadn’t said a word in hours.

“I know,” he said quietly. The team still milled around, waiting, the hospital buzzing with activity, but he felt like the words were just his and yours, the intimacy of the two of you cocooned away from the world.

"I don't..." You struggled to get the words out. "She's all I have." He watched as the tears welled in your eyes, watched as they fell down your cheeks. He wanted to reach out, to brush them away, and he hesitated, wondering what he possibly could do to comfort you.

Instead he pulled you towards him, wrapping you in his arms, a hug, and hoped that he wasn’t being too forward, and you crushed yourself against his chest, hugging him back. He ran a hand up and down your back as he held you to him, his cheek against the side of your head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and he didn’t know if he was apologising for Penelope’s injuries, or the fact that he couldn’t save her, or that he hadn’t been there, or because there was nothing he could do to make it better. He was just sorry.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to background check this guy?” you asked, offering Penelope your eyeliner as she finished curling her hair and she rolled her eyes.

“God, you sound like Derek,” she retorted spitefully and you frowned. It was unlike her to be say his name with such anger, when it was usually said with love, fondness, occasional lust, and just in an overall dreamy fashion. A part of you had always wondered if there was more to their relationship than just platonic friendship.

“Alright,” you replied, letting it go. Penelope was a grown woman, she could make her own decisions… and was also equally capable of running a background check as, if not more, thorough as you would have. You tried not to look at the mess that your shared bathroom had turned into, make-up supplied and jewellery scattered over the counter, leaving her to do her thing. “And I better not get a text saying you’re bringing him upstairs,” you called out as you leave.

“This is just wrong,” you murmured, looking at Penelope’s pale, all but lifeless body, tubes running from her nose and arms, wires strapped to her chest, the suite silent but for the steady beep of the heart monitor. You still hadn’t moved from the foot of the bed, willing yourself not to cry. You were not going to be one of those family members who couldn’t get a grip of themselves. You especially refused to become a blubbering mess in front of her co-workers.

“I know,” Spencer said softly, wanting to take your hand again, but holding himself back. He still never knew where he stood with you. Hell, he didn’t know how to process what was going on for him — the only thing he knew he had to do was stabilise you, never mind himself.

You finally manage to put one step in front of the other, going towards Penelope and Spencer could see your hand shaking as you gingerly took hers, the way you blinked back tears, almost refusing to breathe because you were convinced the only thing that would come out would be a sob. Spencer swallowed, moving to draw the curtains over the windows, closing the doors so it was only the three of you in the room, and kept his back turned as you finally gave in to the squeezing grip your lungs had on your heart, sinking into the chair as you cried, gripping the hand that wouldn’t squeeze back.

You started awake when you felt a large hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently, and it’s Aaron standing over you. “Sorry,” you mustered, wiping away dried tear tracks and he simply pulled up a chair beside you.

“I know it’s been a long night,” he said softly, leaning on his knees, looking at you kindly. “But we need your help.” He watches you nod, taking in a deep breath.

“Anything,” you said, a lot calmer now.

“We need to get some kind of identification on this guy,” Aaron told you, his voice measured and even and a part of you was jealous you couldn’t be as calm as he was, and partly angry that he could be this calm with Penelope this way.

“She said his name was Colby,” you said, remembering the joke you had made when she told you.

“Like the cheese?” you asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically and she scoffed.

“Do not ruin this for me,” she retorted, pointing her laptop charger at you like a wand. “He’s cute and he actually likes me. Do you even remember the last time I’ve been asked out?”

“That doesn’t mean you should go out with anyone who asks,” you replied. “I mean, what kind of person doesn’t turn on auto-save?” It earns you a glare from her and you quieten, turning back to your book.

You shook your head, trying to focus on your screen, set up right beside Penelope, refusing to leave her side even as she slept, and neither did Derek or Spencer, the former practically breathing down your neck. You glanced up at Spencer, a plea in your eyes to get him off your back, and he makes a pitiful attempt of asking Derek if he wants to go get a coffee with him, which he denies and so Spencer shrugged, so you let out a breath, focusing on what you were doing.

“There’s nothing on a James Colby Baylor,” you said, sounding tired, running a hand through your hair, then settling it back on your keyboard.

“If he knew Penelope was FBI, then maybe he used a pseudonym,” Spencer offered, his hands in his pockets, standing across from you. “Try using the same combination of letters, JCB.”

“I’m gonna need more parameters than just three letters,” you retorted, looking up at him.

“Check anyone who rented a white sedan in the last 24 hours,” Derek said, still leaning over you and you desperately wanted to hit the both of them. Repeatedly. Instead, you check car rentals across the city matching the description, matching the restaurant that they had gone to, adding your facial recognition program to look for blonde men with blue eyes. “Plus some kind of job in the justice department. Try law enforcement, former military, stuff like that,” Derek added. “He knew enough to use legal terms, but not enough to know city attorneys don’t try criminal cases. Law school dropout, failed the bar exam—”

“Jason Clark Battle,” you told him, pulling up the picture of him and you swallowed. That was him. The guy you’d seen run away from the front of your building after you heard the gunshot. Your hands curled into fists, oblivious to Derek calling Aaron about it, charging out the door. Spencer didn’t particularly want to leave either of you, but he muttered a quick, ‘Be right back’ before disappearing.

You handed Derek a mug of coffee while Penelope slept in her own bed, the door left open in case she needed either of them. He’s set up on your couch, a blanket and pillows, his gun set on the coffee table, a single light left on so he can read the file. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” he asked you and you shrugged, taking a seat on the corner of the coffee table.

“He shot her on the doorstep, Morgan,” you said quietly. “If I hadn’t been at home…”

Morgan placed his hand on your knee, warm and comforting, and even though you had made fun of him being here, calling him Penelope’s ‘guard dog’, deep down, you were glad he was here. “There’s a lot that went wrong that night,” he said smoothly, his voice low. “Don’t eat at yourself worrying about how it could have been worse.”

You huffed a little. “You mean like you’ve been doing?” you asked, looking at him pointedly and he narrowed his eyes at you.

“You sure you aren’t a profiler?” he asked, noticing the slight hint of a smile on your face as you shrug.

“I guess we’re both wired the same way,” you said, instead of the retort you had lined up in your head. “Protecting the people we care about, blaming ourselves when they get hurt.” You glanced at Penelope’s room, her open door. “She’s all I have, Morgan.” And maybe it’s the late night, the anxiety coursing through your body, the thing that makes it impossible to sleep, that starts in your head and works its way to your chest, but you can’t seem to stop yourself. “She’s everything. My emergency contact, my medical proxy… Hell, if I died tomorrow, everything I own goes to her. She’s my family. If I lose her, I have no-one.”

Derek lets a beat pass, watching you, and you can tell he knows something you don’t, because he said, “You have people. Even if you can’t see them.” You frowned a little as he went back to his file, clearly unwilling to say more, and you’ve never been one to push into personal space. Instead, you go back to your room, left with his cryptic words.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x analyst!reader #analyst!reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #penelope garcia #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #my fics

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malevoreenthusiast · 2 days ago

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Freddie's Feat pt. 2

Hey all! Here it is--the second installment of Freddie's Feat. I hope you enjoy, as I certainly enjoyed writing this! As always, please feel free to flood my inbox and dms with anything your heart desires. I love hearing feedback and am always open to new ideas. Enjoy!