#on the other hand i fear that even if it is not terrible...including it in the 1st chapter is going to make people get excited for more smu

[ladyloveandjustice]

I finally got around to posting the rest of the fic here! It's finished! I've included an a03 link of the whole thing at the end. @schrodingersauthorii gave me an idea for this part in the comments to this very post!

Part 2

The atmosphere of the meet was a lot nicer than he expected. The other students were kind to him, many complementing them on his sports day performance. The team members and Coach Sakuragi were less, well, mean to each other than the team he’d briefly been part of, cheering each on rather than acting sullen when anyone outperformed them. The coach at his old school had always responded to any mistake with a torrent of frustrated criticism that made Natsume tremble in shame. But Sakuragi never acted disappointed or angry. She came off like she was giving friendly suggestions, and she pointed out what they were doing well at lot too. The team responded to her advice eagerly, rather than fearing her.

It was nice, and Natsume almost wished he was the kind of person who could be a part of this. But he knew himself too well. He’d feel terrible each time he missed out due to being sick or waylaid by yokai. And that would happen a lot. The nicer these people were, the worse he’d feel about letting them down. It didn’t matter if they were fine with it, he wouldn’t be. And to be honest, even if he liked his teammates, he didn’t like thinking about huge crowds watching him, he didn’t like the idea of watching other people cry in frustration when he beat them, any of it.

So when Sakuragi asked him if he wanted to do a practice run with the others, he agreed, all while planning to run much slower than usual. He’d explain to her after that the performance on sports day was a fluke, and he usually wasn’t that fast, and there was no way he’d be able to pull it off consistently. Sakuragi would hopefully stop wanting him to join the team, and even if she still asked him, she and the others wouldn’t feel bad when he turned her down.

He took a deep breath, as he stood at the starting line, closing his eyes and blocking the gaze of Sakuragi and the other students out. If he didn’t imagine a yokai was chasing him, running slower was pretty manageable, and he was experienced enough with doing it in Phys Ed that he knew he could pull it off without looking like he was holding back. It would be fine. He’d be fine.

He got himself into position, taking off when Coach blasted the whistle. He lagged way behind the others, while doing his best to look like he was really giving his all. It was going pretty well, he thought, until he looped around on the track and saw a yokai directly in his path.

It wasn’t a big one, not even coming up to Natsume’s knee. It was black, so it had blended in well with the track. It was sort of blobby and shapeless in form, like an inkstain, with beady eyes and a wiggly head.

Natsume’s heart raced and his mouth went dry. It might look small, but he knew better than anyone not to trust a yokai’s appearance. It could be dangerous. Was it here to get the Book of Friends, or was it trying to do something to the people here? It didn’t matter. He had to do something. He couldn’t just slow down, that would give it time to attack.

Instead, he vaulted over the creature. His ankle twisted under him when he landed. He fell, knees and hands scraping the ground. He immediately sprang to his feet and ran as fast he could. He had to lead it away from everyone else.

His sneakers pounded on the rubber and intense vibrations raced through him with each step. It felt like his bones were shuddering. Somone was calling his name, but it was muffled and distant, everything was. He has no room in his brain for anything but his goal. I have to protect the people here. I have to protect the Book of Friends. He crossed the finish line and veered into the grass, ready to grab his bag and sprint out of school grounds. But he looked over his shoulder, he saw the blobby yokai hadn’t moved after him at all. It had simply flattened and spread out on the ground. It’s eyes were closed.

Was it…taking a nap?

Relief filled Natsume as he skidded to a stop. Yes, it was sleeping. Its breathing was even, and as sounds came back to him, he could hear some faint snoring. But he also heard something else, which was Coach Sakuragi screaming at him.

“NATSUME! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? WHY WOULD YOU RUN ON A SPRAINED ANKLE?” She shouted while running toward him.

Sprained…? Natsume looked down and saw his ankle was swelling. Suddenly, intense pain shot through his leg, his ankle folded under him, and he crumpled. Sakuragi caught him under his arms before he could hit the ground. She lifted him up easily.

 Wow, she’s strong, Natsume thought dazedly. Bet I look pretty pathetic right now. He could see students had gathered around to stare at him, expressions worried or shocked. One girl called “Are you okay??”

“Y-yeah,” he said as his mind screamed in humiliation.

Sakuragi could have probably carried him, but thankfully she chose to simply pull his arm over shoulder. “Don’t stand on that ankle, keep it raised.” She commanded. She turned to the cluster of team members. “We need the chairs, the ice bag from the cooler, and the first aid kit. Go get them.”

The student’s responded quickly, three of them running off.

Soon they all came back with all the supplies, including two folding chairs. Sakuragi eased him into a chair. Natsume couldn’t help groaning in pain when a student propped up his leg on the chair in front of him, resting his ankle on a folded towel. Sakuragi quickly cleaned out the minor scrapes on his hands and knees with some medicine.

Natsume hated that he was disrupting the entire track meet and making so many people fuss over him, but he knew protesting would be ungrateful, so he softly thanked the other students instead. They smiled back at him.

Sakuragi placed the ice bag on his ankle. Natsume sighed in relief as the numbing cold broke through the pain.

 Sakuragi bent down to examine his foot. “It don’t think it’s broken, but you’re going to need to check it with a hospital. It’s badly sprained because of all the weight you put on it. Hopefully you didn’t tear the ligament completely.”

“A-a hospital?” Natsume’s stomach dropped. That was really going to worry Touko and Shigeru. He felt so stupid, putting them through all this because a harmless yokai was taking a nap.

Sakuragi straightened up and clapped her hands. “Okay, this isn’t a show, people. Give us some space and get back to practice.”

The team dispersed, and Sakuragi crossed her arms, frowning down at him. Natsume winced, thinking she was going to yell again. Instead, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Natsume.” she said calmly. “I don’t understand what you were thinking. This was just a practice run. Your first one, too.  I’ve seen students try to run on injuries before, but this wasn’t even an actual race!”

Natsume’s looked at his ankle, which was rapidly turning purple, burning with shame. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You don’t have to apologize. I just want to know what’s going on. Why did you run on that ankle?”

“I-I didn’t do it on purpose. It was just kind of…instinct?” Natsume said. He instantly realized that how weird that sounded, and so, apparently, did Sakuragi.

“Instinct?” Her frown deepened and her eyebrows drew together. “Your instinct is to keep running even when you’re hurt?”

“No, no, it’s not like that, I’m just used to—!” He snapped his mouth shut.

What was wrong with him? He was usually better at covering things up. He’d almost said he was used to having to run while injured. He’d twisted his ankle running from yokai plenty of times, and at some point he’d learned to just block out the pain until he got to safety. But obviously he couldn’t tell the coach that.  He desperately searched for another way to end the sentence, but before he could, the coach bent over, looking him directly in the eye.

“Natsume, you looked very frightened when that “instinct” kicked in. Like you were being chased down. Are you used to being chased? Is it something that happens a lot?”

Natsume’s blood froze. Did she know? Why? How? What was going on? His ankle was throbbing so badly now, it was hard to think the haze of pain. His breathing got faster, his ears buzzed… He had to say something, anything to throw her off…

 Sakuragi put her hand gently on his shoulder, “Natsume, you can tell me anything. Is it someone who goes to this school? Or even more than one person? Have they been hurting you? I know it’s scary to talk about it, but I promise I can help–”

Natsume’s shoulders slumped as relief flooded him. She’d was asking if people were chasing him. Obviously she’d meant people.  What was wrong with him? Sure, his ankle felt like it was being hit repeatedly with a giant hammer, but that was no excuse to lose his head.

Doing his best to come off as relaxed, he said “Oh, It’s not like that, Sensei, you don’t need to worry. People don’t chase me at all anymore.”

Sakuragi narrowed her eyes. “Anymore?”

He clearly should just stop talking forever. Maybe he’d sprained his brain along with his ankle.

Yes, he’d been chased by people, of course he had. And not just enthusiastic track coaches. He’d had to run away from plenty of classmates looking to teach the liar a lesson. Running from bullies was usually a lot easier than running from most yokai though, since people eventually tired out. He’d only been caught a few times.

At least this slip up didn’t put his secret in danger, it just made every inch of him cringe. He didn’t want to talk about any of this with her. But he had to make her understand everything was okay. Even if it meant embarrassing himself.

“Sensei, ever since I moved here, things have been so much better. People are so kind to me, my friends are amazing, the Fujiwaras are so warm and giving…” He ducked his head, unable to meet her eyes. “I feel like I belong here. Actually belong. I’m happier than I ever thought I could be….”

Sakuragi was listening to him intently, and when he trailed off, she smiled at him. “I’m glad to hear that. Sorry for the interrogation.”

She took some bandages out of the first aid kit and started wrapping his ankle with a steady practiced hand. “It sounds running is really connected to some… difficult experiences for you. I’m a teacher who’s supposed to look out for you. I shouldn’t have pressured you to run. I should have listened and understood your feelings. I apologize.”

“No no, it’s not your fault Sensei, you’re honestly the nicest track coach I’ve ever—"

But his reassurance was cut off by a shout, “Natsume! What happened?!”

Natsume looked over his shoulder, and saw Nishimura, Tanuma, Taki, Kitamoto and Sasada all coming around the corner of school building

 What the heck are they doing here? His stomach dropped at the expressions of worry on their faces. Nishimura led the pack as they rushed toward him.

“How did you get hurt already?!” Nishimura exploded the second he was within talking range. “It’s been fifteen minutes since school let out! Fifteen! I bet you were doing some kind of crazy thing again, don’t you realize-?”

“Nishimura, calm down,” Kitamoto said, smacking his arm. “But seriously, Natsume, what happened?”

“I—"

“Did somebody trip you?” Sasada asked, fixing the scattered team members with a hawklike glare while they looked baffled in response.  “Are there bullies here?”

“No—”

“It’s not broken, is it?” Nishimura was wincing as he looked at the ankle. “It looks so swollen—”

“Guys!” Taki cut him off. “Why don’t we stop freaking out and let Natsume get a word in edgewise?”

“Well said. I know you’re worried, give him the chance to explain,” Sakuragi said in a slightly amused tone.

Nishimura, Sasada, and Kitamoro jolted, like they hadn’t noticed the teacher before.

“Sorry, Sensei,” Sasada said immediately, bowing her head,

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to yell at you, Natsume,” Nishimura mumbled.

Tanuma, who’d been quietly watching, stepped up and put his hand on Natsume’s shoulder. It was a timid, gentle touch, but Natsume could feel the weight of Tanuma’s concern through it. He smiled reassuringly at him, and then looked at the others.

“I just tripped, guys, that’s really all. I was doing a practice run and I stumbled and twisted my ankle. Though I, uh, also…” He was going to freak them out if he told them he’d kept running on it, and he wasn’t sure how he’d explain it, but—

“He also bumped it a bit while I was guiding him to his chair,” Sakuragi cut him off, giving him a small smile. “That one was my fault.”

Natsume blinked at her, shocked she’d covered for him. She shook her head at him slightly as if to say ‘Just this once’.

“See, Nishimura?” Kitamoto elbowed him. “You of all people can’t be mad at him for tripping!”

“Yeah…” Nishimura said sheepishly.

“No, I’m really sorry for worrying you all,” Natsume said, guilt racing through him. “But, uh, what are you guys even doing here?

“We wanted to support you. The plan was just to meet you when you were done and walk home together,” Taki said.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before,” Tanuma squeezed Natsume’s shoulder slightly, looking bashful. “You just seemed kind of stressed about it, and I was a little… It was a last minute decision. I was thinking if you wanted to, we could even hang out at my place. I probably overstepped.”

‘It was one of those times his friends’ kindness and care filled him up so much he thought he would burst. Those times where he  wondered how he’d found people like them after all these years. When he ached to give them even a fragment of what they’re given him.

“No…” Natsume said, hoping he didn’t sound choked up, “No, I would have liked that, thanks.”

“That’s really sweet,” Sakuragi said with a grin, resuming with wrapping Natsume’s ankle. But then her grin dropped, and she looked at Nishimura questioningly. “Does he get hurt a lot?”

“Kind of. It’s all because he’s reckless, Sensei. He doesn’t think things through!”

“A lot of time he’s trying to help someone, though,” Tanuma said hastily. “It’s not his fault, really.”

 “You always go way too easy on him, Tanuma. But yeah, he’ll do things like shove a girl out of the way when a bunch of heavy boxes are falling on her and get conked in the head. He’s too good a guy—"

“Come on, you’re embarrassing him,” Taki admonished, which immediately silenced Nishimura.

Sakuragi seemed to relax at this, and she finished up wrapping Natsume’s ankle. “Okay! Now, can one of you go fetch crutches from the nurse’s office?” Sakuragi took a key out of the first aid box and tossed at Nishimura, who caught it with a startled expression. Kitamoto went with him. Sasada looked around awkwardly, and then did a double take.

“Chiyo, what are you doing here?” Sasada’s hand immediately jumped to her hair, and she started twirling a lock around her finger.

The short-haired girl walked up, wiping her neck with a towel and flashing Sasada a crooked grin. “The track team lets me practice with them sometimes. Gotta train to beat you next time. What this I hear about you threatening everyone and calling them bullies?”

“I didn’t—”

“Oh, now I remember, Natsume, that’s your friend, no wonder you were all aggro!”  Chiyo waved at Natsume, who waved awkwardly back. “Sorry she’s so overprotective, man. She means well.”

“You—come on!” Sasada grabbed the other girl’s hand and dragged her away. Chiyo looked unreasonably happy about this.

Sakuragi had stepped away to chat with some other students too. Taki squatted next to Natsume and Tanuma leaned closer to him.

“Was there yokai trouble?” Tanuma whispered.

Natsume shook his head. “Not really. I basically overreacted. I saw a little yokai on the track, freaked out because I thought it was dangerous, and tripped. It’s harmless, though. It was just napping. I feel pretty stupid.”

“Did anyone notice anything?”

“Yeah, they noticed I was acting really weird. Especially Coach Sakuragi. She’s…intense.”

“Oh, I should have warned you about that,” Taki sighed. “It’s really hard to keep a secret from her, especially if she thinks you’re struggling. Her heart’s in the right place, though.”

Natsume nodded. “I can tell. I feel bad that I worried her. I ended up saying some bizarre things while I was trying to throw her off. I think she thinks I’m traumatized from my childhood or something now.”

Tanuma cleared his throat and looked away. Taki studied her shoes carefully.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” Natsume asked, trying to figure out if he’s said anything strange.

“Nothing,” Taki said quickly. “Hey, what does the little yokai look like?”  She looked off in the wrong direction.

 “Oh, uh…kind of blob-like…” he squinted at the sleeping yokai, examining it more closely. “Oh wow, I couldn’t pick it out before but it has ears actually, Oh, they’re kind of shaped like cat ears…”

Takis gasped excitedly “Is it cute?”

“Uh…maybe ugly cute?”

“Then it’s cute,” Taki said firmly. “I wish I could see it.”

Natsume suddenly realized that it was probably for the best Taki couldn’t see yokai, otherwise she’d be terrorizing every weird looking little monster non-stop.

Tanuma looked around at the team members looping the track, as others chatted and laughed on the sidelines. “Were you having a good time with everyone? You know, before everything happened?”

“Yeah…it was nice. Everyone was really great. I feel bad I ruined things.”

“You didn’t—"

“We’re back!” Kitamoto and Nishimura arrived carrying the crutches.

A shock of pain went up Natsume’s leg like lightning when Tanuma and Sakuragi eased him onto his crutches, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out. He couldn’t worry everyone even more.

“Okay, you’re good to go now,“ Sakuragi said to him. "But make sure your parents to get you checked at the hospital right away. I will be asking Ms. Fujiwara about that our weekly grocery store chats.”

Natsume nodded meekly, filled with dread at the thought of Touko’s panic and distress. At the same time, he noticed she’d called the Fujiwaras his parents…not foster parents or guardians…just parents. It kind of felt nice. Really nice.

Sasada was still talking with Chiyo, laughing and swatting at her playfully. She noticed that Natsume was up, and reluctantly pulled away, giving Chiyo’s hand a quick squeeze before she left.

Sakuragi smiled as Sasada rejoined the group, observing all of Natsume’s friends clustered around him. “Take care of him, all right?”

“Don’t worry, Sensei, we won’t let anything happen to him,” Nishimura said confidently.

“We’ve got his back!” Kitamoto assured her.

“He helps us a lot. It’s the least we can do.” Tanuma chimed in unexpectedly.

“Of course!” Sasada and Taki finished things off.

Natsume stared at the ground, hoping nobody could see the expression on his face. Taki patted him on the back.

“You’re right, you do have good friends.” Sakuragi ruffled Natsume’s hair. “Do you need me to get you a ride home? Or can your parents come get you?”

“Oh, it’s fine, I can just walk.”

“You’re seriously going to try to hobble all the way to the Fujiwaras?” Taki asked severely.

“Okay, maybe to the bus stop…”

“That’s not coming for another hour.” Sasada tapped her watch. “You can’t wait that long.”

“The Fujiwaras don’t have a car, right?” Nishimura said. “My parents have a car, and Mom should be home. I’ll call her to pick us up.” He pulled out his cellphone, glaring at it. “If I can ever get service in this stupid town…can’t believe I begged for a phone and it’s useless…”

“Nishimura, no, I don’t want to drag your Mom into this…” Natsume said in a panic. “I really can just—”

“Natsume.” Tanuma said quietly but firmly, holding out his arm in front of him before he could hobble away. Natsume’s voice died in his throat.

“My Mom would be mad at me if I didn’t call her about this” Nishimura held his phone high in the air, face screwed up in concentration.

“Oh yeah, that’s right, you get your nosiness from her,” Kitamoto said lightly.

“Man, shut up. Aha! I got some bars!”  And just like that, Nishimura was on the phone with his Mom, and Natsume could do nothing to protest it.

Sakuragi laughed and started to turn away. “Great, I’ll see you—”

“Sensei, wait,” Natsume called quickly.

 She stopped, looking at him questioningly.

“I just wanted I wanted to say, I did have fun here. And, well, I don’t think I can join the team but…would it be all right if I came here once in a while? Just to practice, or I could help with whatever… unless that’s…"

Sakuragi’s face split into a huge grin. “Of course, Natsume! Just having someone like you to race against is a huge help! But are you sure you–?”

Natsume nodded. “I want to.”

“Well then, do your best to heal up and we’ll look forward to seeing you.”

Nishimura got off the phone. “Mom said to wait out front. We’ll head to the bench just outside the entrance.”

Waving goodbye to Sakuragi, Natsume’s friends flanked him as he slowly made his way around the school building.

“I’m happy for you, Natsume,” Taki said.

“Yeah, that’s cool that you’ll have a place to practice!” Kitamoto agreed.

Thanks,” Natsume said. “I’m sorry I ruined the plans to get snacks and hang out…but maybe we could do it another time? Touko would probably be okay with you all coming over.”

“Of course!”

They all busied themselves planning  the get-together until they reached the bench out front, though Nishimura was oddly quiet.

After Natsume sat down, his friends gave their well wishes and reminded him to check in with them after the hospital, before dispersing to walk home. Taki caught up with Sasada and as they walked away, Natsume heard her say “So you and that Chiyo girl, huh? Do I detect some romance?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sasada said primly.

“Come on, it’s me. Come over to my place and tell me all about it.

“Fiiiine, if I must.”

Natsume laughed slightly. He looked over at Nishimura to see his reaction, but for once in his life, he didn’t seem interested in what Taki was doing. He was staring stonily into the distance.

“Nishimura, is something wrong–?”

“I’m sorry, Natsume,” he said abruptly, still not really looking at him.

“Huh? What are you sorry about?” He wondered if Nishimura was still feeling guilty about yelling earlier, and was prepared to reassure him, but—

“You’re hurt because of me.”

“What? What are you even talking about?” Natsume couldn’t help but laugh but stopped when Nishimura glared at him.

“It’s because of me. You don’t like  running in front of people, I know that, but then you had to because I screwed up. And when you were talking to the coach, I could tell you were nervous, I could tell you didn’t want to go. And instead of returning the favor and helping you, I pushed you to do it anyway.” He put his head in his hands. “It was such shitty thing to do.”

“Nishimura, come on, you didn’t–

“I did. You were trying to say no, you can’t pretend you weren’t.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I just…got carried away because you were so cool when you won the race! And you’re kind of down on yourself sometimes,…so I thought maybe if you joined the track team, you’d see how amazing what you can do is and people would see you’re…ugh, it was stupid.”

Natsume’s cheeks burned. “That’s.. it sounds like you were really thinking of me, Nishimura, thank you—"

“No, don’t thank me!” Nishimura said fiercely. “I wasn’t looking out for you or your feelings at all, I just decided what I wanted for you without asking you. And God, I didn’t even think about injuries!”

Natsume stared at him in bafflement. “Why would you need to think about injuries? It’s not like I need special protection. I knew what I was getting into. People get hurt in sports all the time. It’s normal.”

“No, it’s different with you.” Nishimura slammed his hands down on knees, red blotches spreading on his face. “Because when you get hurt, you downplay it or try to hide it, and if you do that in track, it can mess you up for life!” Nishimura was talking faster and faster, the words just pouring out of his mouth. “It’s dangerous because you act like it doesn’t matter, like you don’t matter, and that you don’t get why we all care so much, and I know it’s because you’ve been through a lot and I don’t want to pry, but it makes me so—“

He stopped short, blanching. “Oh shit. I didn’t mean to say all that. U-uh, sorry, just forget it, It’s none of my business…”

A lump formed in Natsume’s throat as shame welled up, hot and bitter on his tongue. “No, I’m sorry, Nishimura,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t realize you were thinking all that, that you were worried. I never wanted to—”

“Natsume, no, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I know it’s not on purpose, I know it’s not your fault.” Nishimura pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is about me saying sorry, not you. I really am sorry. And I know you told Sakuragi you wanted to come back once in a while because you didn’t want to disappoint her, but you don’t have to go back there, I’ll talk to her—”

“You don’t have to talk to her.” Natsume swallowed his shame for now, determined to set things straight. “I liked the team. I really do want to come back.”

“You don’t have to pretend, I told you, don’t lie if you don’t have to—”

“Nishimura,” Natsume interjected gently, putting his hand on the other boy’s shoulder. Nishimura finally looked over at him, eyes downcast. “It made me really happy. When we won, and everyone was cheering, and I saw how excited you were…I don’t know. Running is just something I do sometimes, and I don’t think it’s special or particularly like it. But being able to help you was the first time I felt like it was something…more.” More than survival. More than something I’m forced to do.

“Really…?” Nishimura hesitated, looking disbelieving.

“Really. And I really am glad I came here. I enjoyed it, you know, until I tripped. But even then, everyone was nice and helped me. It made me want to come back.”

Nishimura stared at him for a while, expression unreadable. Then he sighed and leaned back. “Okay, well, good.” Natsume could see Nishimura’s shoulders slump as the tension drained out of him. “But I still pushed you. You don’t have to make excuses for me. I’m just sorry I did it and I won’t do it again.”

“Okay, apology accepted.”

Nishimura looked startled, like he’d expected Natsume to keep fighting him on this, then his face broke into a grin. “Thanks, man.”

“You don’t have to make excuses for me either. I’m sorry I’ve been stressing you guys out when I get hurt. I’ll stop hiding it or trying to downplay it. I mean, I do want all of you to understand I…” Natsume knew better than to say he was “used to it” now, so he searched around for a less alarming but still honest way to phrase it. “I have a high pain tolerance, so sometimes it really doesn’t seem like a big deal.

“Dude, that doesn’t make me feel better.” He could tell from how Nishimura looked at him he’d heard the “I’m used to it” even though Natsume hadn’t said it out loud.

“No, I know. Look, from now on, I’ll admit when something hurts.” He looked down at his ankle, wincing. “Like my ankle really hurts right now. I don’t want to go to the hospital but I’m kind of looking forward to getting painkillers.” He looked over at Nishimura. “Did that work? Or did it just sound whiney?”

“Nah, you need to whine a little more, man.” Nishimura punched him lightly on the arm. “I’m telling you, it feels good. When I sprained my ankle a couple years ago, I whined to everyone I knew. That whine was weak. Try harder.”

“It’s…uh, agony. I…might die? Was that good.”

“You need to work on your delivery, but it’s a start.”

They both laughed. Just laughing soothed something in Natsume, his stomach unknotted, and his racing heartbeat slowed. His ankle even hurt a little less.

When the laughter settled, Natsume looked down, twisting his fingers in his lap. “Look, I know I… kind of lie and hide things as reflex a lot. But I’ve been trying to be more open with the people I care about.”

Nishimura shrugged. “It’s fine. I mean, Kitamoto and I aren’t that stupid, we know there’s something going on with you, but you can take as much time as you need. I know you must have your reasons.”

“Thanks.”

Nishimura chuckled suddenly, looking past Natsume.

“Uh oh, here comes your cat. He looks mad! It’s almost like he knows something happened.”

Nyanko-sensei was indeed stomping towards them, his eyes narrowed.

“Agh, I’m really in trouble this time,” Natsume said. Nyanko-sensei jumped into his lap, making sure to throw his heavy weight around as he landed. “Oof.”

“Oh, your troubles have just begun. Don’t forget Touko!” Nishimura said cheerfully.

“Like I could.”

“I wouldn’t use the “I could die” line on her, she might believe you.”

“Amazing advice, thank you.”

Nishimura smirked. “I’d tell you to run, but, you know.”

Mmm…” Natsume said, stroking Nyanko-sensei, who was making faint, irritated noises. “That’s okay. There are some things I don’t want to run away from.

---

I hope you enjoyed this! It was way longer than I thought it would be. And I wish I could have made it funnier. But I had a fun time with my first Natsume fic!

I often think about how incredibly fit Natsume must be, yokai-induced sickliness aside. He spends 75% of his life running from yokai, through forests and mountains and all kinds of shit. Every day is a marathon for him, he arguably gets too much exercise (which might contribute to collapsing from exhaustion a lot. over exercising isn't good for you).

But imagine what a fast runner he must be. He's able to sometimes lose yokai despite their supernatural speed etc. And he's been doing this since he's a child? I just want an episode where it's time for track in gym class and everyone's expecting the kid who's constantly sick and exhausted to be the slowest one, but instead he just passes them all at warp speed. WHEN did he have time to get this in shape, isn't he always inches away from keeling over, his class in chaos. Nishimura and Kitamoto are the least surprised since they've seen him running before, but even they didn't think he was THIS fast., wow, what natural talent.

Actually, there should be a running gag where one of the many stressors Natsume faced over the years is track team coaches trying to constantly recruit him in most of the schools he goes to, so he's constantly trying to hide how fast he is because he can't be a burden and have the people he's living with PAY SPORTS EXPENSES omg :(( and also he wouldn't be able to show up for most of the meetings, so. And also he doesn't like most team sports (the real reason).

He's managed to keep it mostly under wraps in Yatsuhara, but then one day it's the sports day episode and Nishimura trips while carrying the baton as they always do and starts crying so Natsume's like "siiiiiiiigh fine don't worry Nishimura I've got this" and suddenly he's at the finish line. Thus his hellish lot of being hounded by the track coach begins anew, thanks a lot Nishimura.

[lunar-years]

i've written some smut that may or may appear in the final chapter and may or may not be terrible and may or may not be deleted in cringey embarrassment as soon as I reread it 😄 try new things tuesday or whatever

[reidmarieprentiss]

Textual Tension

Summary: You accidentally send a very suggestive text to your awkward coworker, and he replies...

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, awkward tension

Word count: 6.1k

a/n: has anyone ever sent a sext to the wrong person?? i've only ever sent them to my friends on accident and for that i am so thankful

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving), mild breast play, soft dom spencer

You sit on your bed, the soft glow of your phone illuminating your face as you type out a rather suggestive message to the person you've been casually hooking up with. A smirk tugs at your lips as you hit send, confident that the message will hit its mark. 

I've been thinking about you… Can't stop imagining what I'd do if you were here right now. I want to feel your hands all over me, the way you’d make me moan… Let’s make fantasy a reality?

But within seconds, your heart stops as you realize the terrible mistake you've just made.

You’ve sent the message to Spencer.

Spencer.

Your coworker. The brilliant, kind, and awkwardly charming genius who you’ve always had a friendly, professional relationship with. And, of course, the one who has been harboring a massive, secret crush on you. A fact that, unbeknownst to you, has led to countless daydreams and wishes that you might feel the same.

The blood drains from your face as you stare at your phone, horrified, praying that somehow the message didn’t actually go through, or maybe, just maybe, Spencer won’t read it and will simply delete it. But you know better—Spencer is meticulous about everything. Of course, he’ll read it. You’re absolutely mortified, every worst-case scenario flashing through your mind.

Meanwhile, in his apartment, Spencer is settling down with a cup of tea, ready to dive into the book he’s been reading. When his phone buzzes, he picks it up absentmindedly, assuming it’s just a work-related message or something mundane. But as he reads the words on the screen, his eyes widen in shock, his breath catching in his throat.

His thoughts run wild, heart pounding as he rereads the text, each time wondering if it could possibly be real. Could you, the person he’s admired from afar for so long, actually want him in the way he’s secretly yearned for? The idea is intoxicating, and before he can second-guess himself, he responds with a message that matches your energy, his pulse quickening at the boldness of it.

Wow… I didn’t know you were into me like that. I’ve been thinking about you too. If you want, we can definitely make that happen.

The moment you see his reply, your stomach drops. You can't believe this is happening. You’re completely mortified, your mind spinning with the implications. How could you ever face him again? You don’t respond, the fear and embarrassment paralyzing you, leaving you in a state of panic.

The next day at work, you’re a bundle of nerves. Every step you take towards the bullpen feels like you’re walking to your own doom. When you finally arrive, you try to act normal, but the tension is palpable. You can’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with Spencer, every interaction feeling like it’s laced with the humiliation of last night’s mistake.

Spencer, on the other hand, is caught in a whirlwind of emotions. At first, he’s elated, thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance you were into him. But as the day drags on and you remain distant, the excitement turns to confusion, then a sharp sting of rejection. Did he misread the situation? Was it all just a mistake? He’s left feeling awkward and exposed, unsure of where he stands with you now.

—

The tension between you and Spencer had become a nearly tangible thing, a thread pulled taut between the two of you, ready to snap at any moment. At first, your glances in his direction were purely out of necessity—quick, fleeting looks to gauge his mood, to see if he was as affected by this as you were. But as the days passed, those glances became more frequent, more lingering.

It started innocently enough. You’d look over and notice how effortlessly his hair seemed to fall into place, the soft waves framing his face in a way that made him look almost ethereal. You’d never paid much attention before, but now you couldn’t help but admire how it suited him, how it added to his charm.

Then, it was his forearms. You’d catch him pushing up the sleeves of his button-down shirt, revealing the sinewy strength beneath the fabric. There was something about the casual way he did it, the way the muscles in his arms flexed ever so slightly as he worked, that made your heart skip a beat. It was such a simple thing, but it had a profound effect on you, stirring something deep within.

And then there was the way he licked his lips when he was focused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he concentrated on whatever task was in front of him. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have his attention focused solely on you, to feel the intensity of that gaze as he looked at you, not with confusion or uncertainty, but with desire.

The more you noticed these little things, the more conflicted you became. This was Spencer—sweet, brilliant, and awkward Spencer. The idea of seeing him in a different light had never really crossed your mind before, but now… now it was all you could think about. The memory of his bold response to your accidental text played on a loop in your mind, taunting you with the possibilities.

What if you responded? What if you stopped overthinking everything and just… saw where it could go? The idea terrified you, but it also excited you in a way you hadn’t expected. There was something thrilling about the thought of exploring this new dynamic, of seeing if there was something more between you and Spencer than just a shared workspace.

You found yourself daydreaming about it, wondering how he would react if you sent him a message, if you matched the energy of his reply. Would he be as nervous as you were, or would he surprise you with a confidence you hadn’t seen before? The thought of it made your pulse quicken, a flush of warmth spreading through you.

But with the excitement came doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were reading too much into things, and responding to his text would only make the situation worse? The fear of making things awkward again, of possibly ruining your work life further, held you back. Yet, the thought of doing nothing felt like a missed opportunity, like you were letting something potentially amazing slip through your fingers.

As the day dragged on, you found it harder and harder to focus on your work. Every time you saw Spencer, every time you noticed another little detail about him that you hadn’t before, the urge to reach out grew stronger. It was like there was a tug-of-war going on inside you, with one side urging you to take the risk and see what could happen, and the other holding you back out of fear.

Finally, as the workday was winding down, you made a decision. Maybe you were overthinking this—maybe it was time to just go for it and see what came of it. After all, Spencer had responded positively, hadn’t he? There was a chance, a real chance, that he felt something for you too, something more than just a workplace friendship.

Sitting on your couch with your heart pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you debated what to say. You didn’t want to be too forward, but you also didn’t want to be vague. After a few moments of contemplation, you typed out a message, your hands trembling slightly as you reread it.

Hey, about that text… Maybe we should talk. Or… you know, not just talk. If you’re still interested.

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, your heart racing as you watched the message deliver. There was no going back now.

The rest of the evening was a blur of anxiety and anticipation. You couldn’t stop thinking about what his response might be, what it could mean for the two of you. When your phone finally buzzed with a new message, you hesitated for just a moment before opening it.

I’m definitely interested. Let’s talk… or not just talk, whenever you’re ready.

The words were simple, but they held so much promise. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you read them, a mixture of relief and excitement flooding your senses. This was happening. You and Spencer were about to cross a line, to explore something new and thrilling.

Just as you were contemplating what to say, how to navigate this sudden and unexpected turn in your relationship, another notification lit up your screen.

Come over? Now?

The message was short, simple, and completely electrifying. It sent a jolt through your system, leaving you momentarily speechless. The implications of it were clear—Spencer wasn’t just thinking about this; he was ready to act on it, to turn this accidental confession into something real and immediate.

Your mind raced as you considered what to do next. Just minutes ago, you were agonizing over whether or not to even respond, and now he was inviting you over, as if the decision had already been made. The sheer boldness of his message left you breathless, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like—showing up at his place, the air thick with the unspoken tension that had been building between you all day. The thought of being alone with him, of crossing that line from coworkers to something more, sent a thrill through you.

You took a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. This was a pivotal moment, and whatever you decided now would set the course for what happened next.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of internal debate, you typed out a response, your heart racing as you hit send.

I'll be there in 20 minutes.

—

You parked outside Spencer’s apartment building, your heart racing as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. The 20-minute drive had been filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions—excitement, anticipation, and a lingering thread of uncertainty. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect when you arrived, especially considering how different Spencer had seemed over text compared to how he usually was in person. The Spencer you knew was shy, adorably awkward, and hesitant when it came to personal matters. But his texts had shown a side of him that was bold, confident, and unafraid to take charge.

As you approached his door, your nerves started to get the better of you, but there was no turning back now. You lifted your hand to knock, hesitating for just a moment before finally letting your knuckles rap against the wood. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity, your mind racing with possibilities of how this night could unfold.

When the door finally opened, you were taken aback by the sight that greeted you. Spencer stood there, shirtless, the soft glow of his apartment’s light highlighting the lean lines of his torso. He wore nothing but a pair of low-hanging gray sweatpants, the waistband slung low on his hips, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the defined muscles and trail of hair beneath. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d run his hands through it moments before opening the door, and his eyes, usually filled with a mix of curiosity and gentle kindness, now held a smoldering intensity that you had never seen before.

For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the sight of him. This wasn’t the Spencer you were used to—this was the man who had responded to your accidental text with a confidence that had both surprised and intrigued you. The awkward, hesitant Spencer you knew seemed to have taken a backseat, making way for someone who knew exactly what he wanted.

And what he wanted, it seemed, was you.

He leaned casually against the doorframe, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched your reaction. There was a heat in his gaze, a silent challenge that dared you to step inside, to see just how far this newfound confidence could take him.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m glad you came.”

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts, but the sight of him standing there like that—so effortlessly confident, so unapologetically enticing—made it difficult to think of anything but the rush of desire that was quickly building within you.

“Hey,” you managed to reply, your voice a little breathless. “You… uh, look different.”

Spencer’s smile widened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped aside to let you in. “Well I should hope so,” he said, his tone teasing, but with an underlying seriousness that sent your heart racing even faster.

You stepped inside, feeling the warmth of his apartment wrap around you as the door clicked shut behind you. The atmosphere between you was charged, electric, every moment filled with unspoken possibilities. Spencer moved closer, his presence almost overwhelming in its intensity. The scent of him—a mix of something clean and masculine—filled your senses, making you even more acutely aware of the heat radiating from his skin.

“I’ve been thinking,” Spencer began, his voice soft yet steady, as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “About what was said...”

Your breath hitched at the light touch, your skin tingling where his fingers had just been. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid that your voice might betray just how much his presence was affecting you.

“I don’t want this to be awkward,” he continued, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “But I also don’t want to pretend that nothing’s changed… because it has.”

He was right—everything had changed. The air between you was thick with tension, with the unspoken acknowledgment of what you both wanted but were too nervous to voice. And yet, here he was, standing so close, shirtless and confident, laying it all out in front of you.

Taking a deep breath, you finally found your voice. “So… what happens next?”

Spencer’s lips quirked up into a small, almost mischievous smile. “I think that depends on what you want.”

His words hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation all at once. You could feel the pull, the magnetic attraction drawing you closer to him, and in that moment, you knew there was no turning back.

With a boldness you hadn’t known you possessed, you stepped even closer, your body nearly brushing against his as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “I want to find out what happens when we stop pretending.”

The last remnants of hesitation melted away as Spencer’s smile turned into something more—something hungry and determined. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips descended on yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was fierce, consuming, a release of all the tension that had been building between you.

As his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer still, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you had only begun to scratch the surface of the side of Spencer Reid you were about to discover tonight.

The world around you blurred as Spencer’s lips moved against yours, his kiss deepening with every passing second. Time seemed to lose all meaning as you lost yourself in the warmth of his touch, the taste of his lips, and the way his hands gripped your waist with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. It felt like you had been kissing for an eternity, and yet when he finally pulled back, you found yourself gasping for breath, your mind spinning, and your body aching for more.

Spencer’s eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a heat that made your pulse quicken. Without saying a word, he took your hand, his grip firm yet gentle, leading you down the hall towards his bedroom. The anticipation thrummed in your veins, every step heightening the tension between you. But just as you reached the doorway, Spencer suddenly stopped, turning to press you against the doorframe. His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing kisses that made your knees weaken and your breath hitch.

You barely had time to process the sensation before he pulled back again, a playful gleam in his eyes as he gently but firmly guided you into the bedroom. With a swift motion, he pushed you onto the bed, and you bounced slightly, a surprised giggle escaping your lips. The unexpected shift in his demeanor—this newfound confidence, this playful dominance—left you both intrigued and a little off-balance. You’d known Spencer as the quiet, reserved, and somewhat shy genius, but this side of him was something entirely different, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by it.

As you lay there, still trying to wrap your head around this change, you found yourself blurting out a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind. “Do you do this a lot, Reid?”

Spencer chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a ripple of warmth through your body. He shook his head with a smile that was equal parts reassuring and teasing. “No, not ever really,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady, as he reached for your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His hands rested on your thighs, the warmth of his touch seeping through your clothes, grounding you in the moment.

“Call me Spencer,” he added, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, his gaze locking onto yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. There was something intimate about the way he said it, as if this wasn’t just about physical attraction, but about letting you see a side of him that no one else had. 

Your heart skipped a beat at the request, the simple act of calling him by his first name in this context making the moment feel even more personal, more real. 

“Spencer,” you repeated, the name slipping from your lips like a secret, a promise. His smile widened, a spark of something almost wicked flashing in his eyes, and you realized that you were about to discover a side of him that you’d never imagined existed.

Spencer leaned in, his hands sliding up your thighs, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’ve been wanting this for a long time, you know. I just never thought…” He trailed off, as if realizing that words weren’t enough to express what he was feeling. Instead, he captured your lips with his again, his kiss searing and insistent, as though he were making up for lost time.

Spencer's hands, warm and steady, slowly trailed up your sides, his fingers grazing the soft fabric of your t-shirt as they moved. When he reached the hem, he hesitated, his touch gentle but deliberate as he curled his fingers around the edge. He looked up at you, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness, but there was something else too—a careful consideration, a need to ensure that you were just as willing as he was.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, his eyes searching yours for the reassurance he needed.

For a moment, you were too caught up in the heat of the moment to respond, your heart pounding in your chest. The way he looked at you, with such raw want and yet so much care, made it hard to think clearly. You nodded quickly, your eyes wide with anticipation, but Spencer didn’t move.

His grip on your shirt tightened slightly as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to need you to use your words, sweetheart.”

The way he said it—his voice rough, almost gritted out with barely restrained desire—made your head spin, the sheer force of his need for you sending your pulse into overdrive. There was a command in his tone, but also a gentle reminder that this was your choice, that he needed to hear you say it.

You swallowed hard, your voice catching in your throat as you tried to find the words. The air around you felt thick with tension, every second stretching out as you stared up at him, the look in his eyes making it impossible to deny him—or yourself.

“Ye—yes, please,” you finally managed to say, your voice a little breathless, but full of the same want that you saw reflected in his eyes.

Spencer’s eyes darkened with satisfaction at your response, a small, almost predatory smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he began to lift your shirt. The fabric slid up your torso slowly, the cool air of the room hitting your skin as he revealed more of you. He took his time, savoring the moment, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside.

For a brief moment, you felt exposed, vulnerable under the weight of his gaze. But the way Spencer looked at you, with a mixture of awe and hunger, made all your insecurities melt away. His hands roamed over the newly exposed skin, his touch both soothing and electrifying, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity and desire, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your collarbone, his lips lingering against your skin.

You had forgone a bra that night, thinking nothing of it when you slipped into your comfy clothes after a long day at work. After all, you hadn’t planned on anything like this happening. But now, with Spencer’s hands on you, his eyes filled with something that looked a lot like awe, you found that you didn’t care in the slightest. If anything, it added to the intimacy of the moment, the rawness of it, making you feel closer to him than you ever thought possible.

His touch was slow, deliberate, almost as if he was savoring every moment, every reaction he elicited from you. His fingers brushed over your skin, exploring you with curiosity and desire, as if he was trying to learn every detail, every response, to what he was doing. When his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, you couldn’t suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips, your body arching towards him instinctively, craving more of his touch.

“Spencer…” you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but filled with so much emotion that it felt like a confession. There was something in his name, in the way it rolled off your tongue, that made the moment feel even more intimate, more real. It wasn’t just a name anymore—it was a declaration, an acknowledgment of what was happening between you, of the connection that was quickly forming.

Spencer’s eyes flicked back up to yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. There was something almost primal in the way he looked at you now, a hunger that was barely restrained, but also a tenderness that made your chest tighten with emotion. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this… how long I’ve wanted you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the sheer weight of them. It wasn’t just lust in his voice—it was something deeper, something that made you feel cherished, desired in a way that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The realization that Spencer had been holding back, that he had wanted you for so long, made your heart swell with emotion, your need for him growing even stronger.

He kissed you again, his lips capturing yours in a way that was both gentle and demanding, his hands continuing their exploration of your body. Each touch, each caress, was filled with passion and care, as if he was trying to show you just how much you meant to him without needing to say the words. And with every kiss, every brush of his fingertips, you found yourself falling deeper into the moment, your own desire for him becoming overwhelming.

You reached up, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel the heat of his body against yours. The way he responded, the way his hands gripped you tighter, as if afraid to let go, made it clear that he was just as lost in the moment as you were. There was no more hesitation, no more awkwardness—just the two of you, finally giving in to the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

Spencer’s hands were warm against your skin as he gently laid you back on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he hovered above you. The intensity in his gaze was almost overwhelming, his pupils blown wide with desire, but there was something else there too—curiosity, maybe even a hint of vulnerability. His fingers trailed down your sides, the touch sending shivers through your body as he slowly leaned in, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your chest.

“Tell me, Y/N…” His voice was a low murmur, filled with an edge of something deeper, as he kissed his way down your chest, taking his time, savoring the feel of your skin beneath his lips. “Did you think about me too?”

The question hung in the air, making your breath hitch as you squirmed beneath him, the sensation of his kisses igniting a fire deep within you. Your mind was spinning, every nerve in your body on high alert as you felt his breath ghost over your skin, his lips moving lower, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

“I did,” you admitted, your voice a little breathless as the confession slipped out. It was the truth, after all—you had thought about him, more than you ever wanted to admit. The idea of Spencer, sweet, awkward Spencer, being the one to push you to this point had always been a secret fantasy, buried deep within you. But now, with him here, in this moment, it was no longer just a fantasy—it was real.

Spencer’s lips curved into a smirk against your skin as he reached your hip, his teeth nipping playfully at the delicate flesh, making you gasp. The sensation was a mix of pleasure and surprise, and you couldn’t help but arch your back slightly in response. His hands moved to your shorts, his fingers hooking into the waistband as he tugged them down slowly, teasingly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he did.

“That text wasn’t for me though, was it?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he watched your reaction. The smirk on his face was something you’d never seen before—confident, almost cocky, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.

You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as the realization hit you. You hadn’t expected him to catch on to that detail, but of course he had—Spencer was nothing if not observant. The thought that he knew the text wasn’t meant for him, but was still here, still wanting you, made your pulse quicken even more.

“Uh, no, it wasn’t,” you admitted with a whine, the words slipping out before you could stop them. There was no point in lying—not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze full of heat and understanding. “But I’m glad I sent it to you,” you added quickly, your voice filled with sincerity and a hint of desperation.

Spencer’s smirk softened into a small, almost tender smile as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your navel. “Maybe your subconscious wanted you to,” he suggested, his voice low and smooth, each word making your head spin. The idea made you dizzy, the thought that some part of you had always wanted this, had always wanted him, even if you hadn’t fully realized it until now.

“Uh huh,” you breathed out, your voice floaty and airy, your mind clouded with desire. The sensation of his lips on your skin, his hands on your body, was intoxicating, making it hard to think clearly. All you could focus on was the way he made you feel—alive, wanted, and completely lost in the moment.

Spencer’s fingers continued to work on removing your shorts, sliding them down your legs with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something almost worshipful in the way he touched you, as if he was savoring every second, every inch of skin he revealed.

As he finally discarded your shorts, leaving you completely exposed to him, he took a moment to just look at you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and admiration. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned in to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

The words made your heart swell, a wave of warmth washing over you as you reached out, your fingers tangling in his hair. There was nothing left to hide now, nothing left to hold back. This was exactly where you wanted to be—where you were meant to be.

“Do you always skip out on bras and panties, Y/N?” Spencer’s teasing comment sent a ripple of laughter through you, the sound mingling with the rapid beat of your heart. The playful banter between you only intensified the electric connection that was already sparking between you both. His bite on your inner thigh was both a tease and a promise, igniting a fire that made every nerve in your body come alive.

“N–no, only at home,” you managed to scream out, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The combination of his touch and the vulnerability of the moment made it impossible to hold back any longer.

He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, echoing softly in the room as his fingers continued to explore your skin. “But you didn’t put any on before coming over?” His tone was light, yet there was an undeniable edge of desire that underpinned his words.

You took a moment to catch your breath, the playful challenge in his eyes urging you to respond. “Are you–are you complaining?” you asked, your voice wavering between breathless laughter and the growing urgency of your emotions.

Spencer shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Not at all, although–” His sentence was cut short as your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him fully into you. The sudden, decisive movement left no room for hesitation, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, entwined in each other’s embrace.

“Oh my god, Spencer, just shut up,” you laughed, the sound filled with a mixture of amusement and desire. “Put your mouth to use.”

His response was immediate, his lips finding your core with a fervor that matched the intensity of your own longing. The way he ate you out was everything you had been waiting for—passionate, deep, and downright filthy. His hands left their place on your thighs, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence that made you feel both cherished and desired.

As he sunk his mouth deeper, sucking your clit into his mouth, Spencer guided you gently but firmly onto the bed, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the heat that radiated between you.

“Spencer,” you moaned, the name slipping out like a sacred vow, sealing the moment between you. His response was a dirty smile, his mouth shining with your juices, making your pulse throb.

He paused for a moment, just enough to look into your eyes, “You’re fucking delicious,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”

As Spencer’s mouth continued to work its magic on your core, a whirlwind of sensations overwhelmed you. Each touch, each stroke of his tongue, sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything but the intense feeling of being completely consumed by him. The way he moved, so skilled yet so attentive to your every reaction, left you breathless, your hands clutching at the sheets as your head swam in a sea of ecstasy.

But amidst the pleasure, a fleeting thought crossed your mind—how close you had come to letting this moment, this incredible opportunity, slip through your fingers. You couldn’t believe that you had almost dismissed the idea of responding to his bold text, that you had almost let fear and hesitation keep you from experiencing this side of Spencer. A side that was confident, passionate, and utterly devoted to your pleasure.

How could you have been so close to missing out on this? On him? Spencer, who had always been there, quiet and thoughtful, had somehow managed to unlock a part of you that you hadn’t even known existed—a part that craved the connection and intimacy he was now offering with every caress of his lips.

You let out a soft moan, your hips arching towards him as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. The sounds you made only seemed to spur him on, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulled you closer, his tongue working with a precision that left you teetering on the edge. Every nerve in your body was alive, the world narrowing down to the feel of his mouth on you, the heat of his breath against your skin.

“Spencer,” you gasped out, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. It wasn’t just the pleasure he was giving you—it was the realization that this was Spencer, the man you had known for so long, who was now showing you a depth of care and passion that you had never imagined.

The way he responded to your every movement, the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed, made you feel cherished in a way that went far beyond the physical. It was as if he was attuned to your very soul, using his touch to communicate something deeper, something that had been building between you for far longer than either of you had realized.

As you felt the tension within you coil tighter and tighter, ready to snap, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easily you had fallen into this moment with him. All the hesitation, the uncertainty, had melted away, leaving only the pure, unfiltered connection between you and Spencer. A connection that had been there all along, waiting for the right moment to be brought to life.

And now that it had, you knew you could never go back to the way things were. Spencer had opened a door to something new, something beautiful, and you were ready to step through it with him, no matter what the future held.

With a final, skillful flick of his tongue over your clit, Spencer sent you tumbling over the edge, your body trembling with the force of your release. The world around you seemed to dissolve into a haze of pleasure and warmth, your mind barely able to process the overwhelming sensations that flooded through you.

As you came down from the high, Spencer’s hands and mouth softened, his touch becoming gentle, almost reverent, as he coaxed you through the aftershocks. When he finally pulled back, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with a sincerity that left no doubt about how much this moment meant to him. He crawled up the bed to join you, his body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in a slow, languid kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips.

You smiled against his lips, a sense of contentment and excitement washing over you as you whispered, “I’m glad I’m here too, Spencer. So glad.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle

[literaryavenger]

Obsessed

Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.

Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.

A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.

Masterlist

This is terrible.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-

“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.

You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.

Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.

But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.

What a lovely best friend you have.

Anyways.

Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.

“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.

She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?

Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.

Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.

“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely. 

Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.

So who the fuck is here just to see him? 

Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.

Big mistake.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.

“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”

Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”

You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.

You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.

Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.

You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.

You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.

“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.

There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.

“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.

God, you love this little girl.

You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.

Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.

“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat. 

You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.

Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.

She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.

It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on. 

Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.

What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.

Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.

Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.

He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.

So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.

But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.

Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways. 

It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.

Requested taglist: @vicmc624 @matchat3a @nerd-without-a-cause @sapphirebarnes @cjand10 @mostlymarvelgirl @julvrs @blackhawkfanatic @lillianacristina @armystay89 @imdoingbetternow @spookyparadisesheep @elizalexwil @aceofhearts25 @dontworryboutitsweetheartxx-blog @justab-eautifulmess @buggy14 @thedonswife13

[dilfartist]

A foolish endeavor

Pairing; Yandere Miguel O’hara x reader

Synopsis; You manage to snag Miguel’s gizmo and escape to another universe. How long will it take before he, or the spider society, find you?

Word count; 2.8k

Reader description; Female/GN

TW; kidnapping, probably terrible spanish (i did use sources Spanish-speaking users suggested), non-con touching, yandere themes, dark writing.

Notes; {if i mistranslated any of the spanish please do contact me in my DMs. I wanted this fic to be better but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Did not proofread.}

Midnight coated New York in a dark blue hue. Most nights the city lights illuminate the darkness, providing the ability to see. However, the motel you find yourself ambling to is the more isolated part of the city.

Rain poured down heavily, producing cacophonous echoes of raindrops slamming against the concrete. Clad in a drenched hoodie and damp black yoga pants, you scurry to the other side of the street just in time to avoid being hit by the passing truck.

Cigarette smoke and frigid rain overwhelm your senses, mainly due to the cigarette buds scattered on the motel parking lot.

The motel is okay looking. By no means does it look nice, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Guess this is where I’ll sleep tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You take a brief glance at your surroundings. Night overcame the sky, giving the atmosphere a dark hue but the lights gave you a clear standpoint.

Numerous lights hummed irritatingly, not even a minute passed and you found yourself obtaining a headache. You navigate the main office, which is on the left side of the horseshoe-shaped building, and a blue neon sign points in the direction of the office. You started sauntering over, putting pep in your step when the cold rain declined heavier than it did the last five minutes.

Six months ago, you wouldn’t be having this problem. At least that’s what you believed. You could’ve been at your apartment, catching up on a show you’ve failed to complete thanks to your busy work schedule.

Unfortunately for you, doing a task as simple as watching your television, in your home, was truly impossible. Why? Because the earth you roam isn’t yours, to begin with. Your apartment isn’t yours. The job you work isn’t yours. You aren’t certain you even exist in this universe.

You can’t find the strength to complain. Honestly, you’re delighted to be away from the man who stole you away from society.

Miguel O’Hara.

Otherwise known as Spiderman 2099. You know, the superhero.

It must be confusing to hear that a superhero kidnaped a poor civilian. Superheros don’t normally commit unforgivable acts. Regardless, Miguel didn't care. Miguel is aware he is different from other heroes given his beliefs. Abducting you was just one of the many wrongs Miguel fulfilled.

You just wished you knew his motives at the beginning. If you did, you wouldn't have to search for sanctuary. You wouldn't have to lie low in a different universe.

Before Miguel, you lived a decent life that included a decent job. It was a Tuesday afternoon with sunny weather and clear skies. Your friends invited you to a picnic at the park and, for once having a clear schedule you agreed. You recall the sun beaming down on you, overheating your body to the point shade was a necessity. You moved from the picnic blanket to a nearby bent tree. One moment you're enjoying the shade, the next you're falling. Then something transpired. You jerked in the air, something white clinging to the front of your shirt. You felt your body floating in the air, legs thrashing in fear when your body conceded it was in mid-air.

You must have fainted because you have no recollection of what transpired next. What you do remember was watching through bleary eyes as four strangers hovered over you clearly disputing. Currently, you know them by Jessica Drew, Peter B. Parker, the iron spider, And Miguel O’Hara.

The accountability for your well-being somehow landed in the hands of Miguel. In the beginning, Miguel had such a short patience for you, not that he didn't possess an attitude with anyone else, he just happened to have a really short fuse with you.

His explosive temper with you was undeserving. You hardly gave him any reason to blow up. Your presence alone just pissed him off, at least it appeared so.

You avoided him as much as possible; Departing a room when he entered. Ensuring any errands were accomplished before he arrived home, so you didn't have to leave your room to aggravate him.

Then he began to seek you out; popping up wherever you were in his apartment. Alone watching television on the couch? Not anymore. Miguel joined you on the other side silently watching as well. Sitting silently in the dining room eating lunch? Miguel enters with a bowl of cereal, starting a conversation about the day’s news. Enjoy video games and decide to play by yourself? Miguel grabs a controller and questions the rules and certain controls.

For someone who was as snappy at you as a feral dog, he sure did like to invade your solitude.

By the second month of staying at Miguel’s, he found solace in your presence. He became relaxed. Nice even. And then by the fourth month, you became friends. You never visualized being anything other than friends, but unbeknownst to you, Miguel did.

When you first caught the news of Peter figuring out what universe you belonged to, you were ecstatic. After all, the mystery of your universe's number had been the sole reason for crashing with Miguel and not immediately returning home.

You turned to Miguel, asking when was the appropriate time to drop you off. To your astonishment, Miguel’s brows furrowed, and his lips morphed into a grimace, “you will not be returning.” he affirmed.

Miguel shocked not only you, but everyone witnessing the scene. A gauche silence conquered the atmosphere.

You and Miguel stared at each other for a beat, then you voiced your perplexity. “What do you mean “I will not be returning?” Miguel, I need to go home.” you took a step closer to Miguel.

Miguel gazed at you with an uninterested stare. “What I say goes, (Name). And I say you're staying here.” he spun around, returning to whatever he had been working on before. “We all have a busy schedule and dropping you off will only alter it.”

“It’s not worth it,” he said like he was ending the conversation.

“Okay, then Peter can take me home when he needs to drop off Mayday.” you insisted, looking over at Peter to see if he’d be alright with your plan.

No expression was needed for you to catch on to the attitude Miguel began to gain. “(Name), I won’t tell you twice. The answer is no. Now, Peter take her back to my apartment. We’ll speak about the matter later, at the moment there are more important issues happening.”

You found it laughable. To think the minute you stepped into the man's sight he wanted you gone, but now Miguel was fighting you to stay with him. Ironic, isn’t it?

That night you and Miguel, the very moment he came inside his apartment, quarreled for an hour in a half. Your argument being you did not belong to him and could do whatever you pleased. Miguel’s argument was the insignificance of the matter to him.

You detected Miguel’s temper was starting to get out of hand. The way his fists began to clench, the way his brows creased, and the frown deepened after every sentence he uttered. You’ve seen his strength. His fierceness. And you’d rather leave than have any of his tantrums directed at you. Doing what any rational person would do, you attempted to leave the room. You advised him to de-stress before speaking to you again.

Miguel was having none of it. Not even a second passed before you were yanked back by the forearm.

You’re face-to-face with Miguel. Miguel towered over you, looking down at you with his signature red piercing stare. He bends down, momentarily staring at you until he finally speaks. “I can't allow you to leave.” The way he talks is low and if the room weren't already quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him. “I love you,” he confessed, voice cracking, closing his eyes as if it pained him to say it. He opened his eyes again. “And I won't allow myself to lose any other person I care for.”

Pulling twenty dollars out of the torn-up wallet you found on the side of the road, you slide it forward on the mahogany brown table. The fatigued receptionist glances at the money, then gazes at you with an irked expression.

“This isn’t enough.” She states matter-of-factly. She slides the twenty back to you.

You purse your lips, staring down at the cash. Twenty dollars is all you had. What were you to do now? The next nearest motel could be miles away; it was a miracle you made it to this.

Your eyes flicker back to her. You take two fingers pushing it back to her, giving her your best puppy eyes. “Please! I don't have anywhere else to go tonight. If I can’t stay here I’ll have to sleep on the streets.”

You were lying. You would’ve taken off by dawn, needing to be on the move after getting rested.

Her hardened expression softens. She takes a deep breath, eyes studying the money. Shaking her head, she takes the cash. “One night only, alright?”

You propose to her a smile, nodding with gratitude. She allotted you a key. A small golden-greenish key, with the number five engraved on the head. Tonight you’d sleep on the grounded floor of the motel.

The inside was decently prepared, having a dingy tone that gave off a haunted vibe. You hum in displeasure. Two queen-sized mattresses are positioned on the right side of the wall. They appeared stiff, and the blankets laying upon them looked thinner than a sheet of paper.

Sighing, you softly booted the door shut. Flopping down on the nearest bed, you groan at the sensation of the rough mattress.

When tomorrow comes you’d have to find a fresh location. Miguel could continually find your locale, thanks to not only Lyla but the whole Spider society. Perhaps you postponed his search this time. His watch or gizmo- whatever the hell it was- rests on your wrist.

Shifting your head to the side, pulling your hand out of your pocket, you glance at the gizmo.

Tightly clutched in Miguel’s hold, you stare quietly at the ceiling. You debate acting on your next actions. There were times Miguel slept lightly, aroused by creaks in the floorboard. Other times when the sound of glass shattering did not bother him even a little.

Glancing down at the arm wrapped securely around your midriff, you endeavor to gradually lift his arm up. He unconsciously retaliates, arms consolidating, resulting in a small gasp slipping from your lips. You’re quick to rub his arm, to offer him comfort, and to calm him.

It works. Miguel grumbles, his grasp faulting. You carefully move his arm aside, then unhurriedly get up from the bed.

Before leaving the room you observe Miguel. Miguel sleeps soundly, an angry expression inscribed on his face. But he is asleep, so you take your chance while you are able.

Tiptoeing into the kitchen, you immediately spot the gizmo on the marble counter. Compared to the technology you have at home, it was top-notched, a huge improvement. Of course, he lived in the year 2099. Obviously, there would be a difference in technology.

You grabbed the gizmo, examining the complexity. From monitoring the spider people using them, you know it’ll take you wherever universe you request. Great. However, you weren’t a spider person. If you teleported in the middle of the air, you couldn't grapple on the closest object with a web. Or claw your way down a building

Fuck it.

If dying meant escaping him, then so be it.

You didn’t really mean that. Every time you went to teleport to a different universe, you cringed retreating your hand.

“Jesus! Alright, I'm doing this!” you softly berated yourself. Bracing for the impact of the possible fall you might face, you shut your eyes tight and twisted the gizmo. “Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground!” you cried.

How long would it take them to find you? How far could you get?

God, being on the run was stressful.

Your eyes flutter closed, plush pillows luling your tired mind. ‘I should get some sleep’ you thought. Warmth spread throughout your numbing body, as you finally permitted yourself to sleep.

When you awake gasping for air, almost as if you’d been suffocating. Instantly you arise, a hand rushing to your chest confirming it still thumped with a beating heart. Your skin is sticky with cold sweat, making your clothes uncomfortably cling to your body. “What the fuck?” you barely uttered, mouth arid.

Suddenly you had a gut feeling to check the window. You stand, groggily walking toward the large window adjacent to the front door. Pinching the hem of the curtain, you haul it aside.

The night is still pristine, the stars glowing in the dark sky. Nothing seems out of place. And yet you continue to have that gut feeling. Look outside, there’s something outside. Your eyes move to the parking lot.

You see it.

Blue and red. Something blue and red is making its way toward the motel. Squinting, you can make out what it is. Miguel. It's Miguel!

“Oh, shit!” you expressed, dropping the curtain. Wasting no time you locked the bottom and top locks. You veered around, frantically searching for a place to hide. You are no fool. Locking the door was simply a distraction; Miguel would tear the door off its hinges in a second.

Hiding underneath the bed is a childish strategy. That and hiding underneath the covers. Still, you drop to your knees, squeezing underneath the bed, using the blankets to cover any spaces revealing you. Pressing the palm of your hand against both your mouth and nose, you listen closely to everything around you.

At first, all you hear is the air conditioning blowing cool air, and the people next door’s baby weeping. Then you hear it. The doorknob oscillation. Your eyes widen, fear causing your breath to hitch. When the door refuses to open, the person behind the door commences kicking in the door. One kick achieves them access to the room. The door slams against the wall, shaking the ground, sending a vibration under you.

“¿Qué carajo?” you know that voice anywhere. It’s Miguel speaking in his native language. A habit Miguel has when he’s angered or stressed. “¿Dónde está ella?” Miguel snaps, striding into the room with anger-powered steps.

You can see through the tiny slit in the blankets, Miguel turning to the table where you placed the gizmo. Miguel picks up the gizmo, putting it back on his wrist.

He shifts his concentration to finding you. He calls out your name, malice dripping from the way he shouts it. He disappears from sight, presumingly moving on to the bathroom. Many things are heard being tossed around. Miguel probably was looking for evidence of you staying here, apart from the gizmo.

You gather the courage to, oh, so carefully stretch your leg out, then proceed to quietly shuffle from under the bed. You waste no time, rushing out the door, feet bare without socks or shoes. The gravel burns the soles of your feet, scraping and imprinting on the skin.

You practically succeeded in leaving the lot until you caught a glimpse of what stalked behind you. On all fours, Miguel sprinted at you, claws scuffing the concrete, like a predator running after its prey.

“Holy shit! What the actual fuck!” you panic aloud, taking your eye off what was in front of you, your mind solely focusing on the man hunting you. Big mistake on your part. A concrete parking block is in your way, but you don’t see it. You jolt forward, tripping over the block, your other foot catching you before you hit the road.

Just when you thought you still had the chance of running away, you’re sorely mistaken. Miguel pounces on you, and the clash of your bodies colliding results in Miguel tumbling down the road, you secure in his arms.

The tumble ends; you’re struggling not to vomit, head resting on Miguel’s firm chest. The world spins. It’s easy to forget your position when the urge to throw up is fresh.

Miguel holds your head, pressing a myriad of kisses on every part of the skin visible, muttering with his eyes closed. “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.” He sounds so frantic, reciting those same words, his tongue stumbling over the utterances.

His eyelids raise, uncovering his red orbs. He presses his forehead against yours, staring deeply into your eyes. It’s a domestic stunt that makes your stomach churn. “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.” he huffs, then continues, “I’m happy you’re alright. I don’t know what I'd do if I lost you, mi alma.”

Taking your hand, he places a soft kiss on the back. “Had an anomaly harmed you, I would have ripped their fucking throat out!”

————————

Translations

- “¿Qué carajo?”/ what the fuck?

- “¿Dónde está ella?”/ where is she?

- “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.”/ I should be furious with you, but I'm not.

- “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.”/ thank god you’re okay.

- mi alma/ my soul

[starry-bi-sky]

"Stillborn? No, no, still born." -- DPXDC AU

Based off a comment I saw where Bruce knew about Talia's pregnancy in the earlier comivs, and was ecstatic to be a father. So much so that Talia feared he'd give up being Batman for it, so when she gave birth she put the baby (Damian) on a doorstep and (seemingly) told Bruce that the baby was stillborn.

Instead of Damian, that baby was Danny! Meet Daniel Brown, the 14 year old foster kid whose been living with the Fenton family for the last two years. He's about two years older than Damian.

His last name, "Brown", was a generic surname given to him because the note he came with didn't have one on it. It just had the name "Danyal" on it, but albeit 'Daniel' was the one that had been put into the system for, I'll be totally frank here, racism reasons.

(I looked it up to make sure, and it's generally not permissible for foster parents to change the names of their foster kids even if it's a permanent residency, and for that reason Danny doesn't have the last name "Fenton".)

Danny's got ✨~issues!~✨ He's been through a handful of homes growing up, most of them terrible for a variety of reasons. Which has, as a result, left lasting scars. He's generally a very sweet kid, just very distrustful and jumpy. He's got the signs of a kid suffering from PTSD, and a handful of other issues including attachment and insomnia. His inferiority complex could rival Damian's, and that's going to make for an interesting mutual hatred for when they finally meet.

(something I'll get into later)

He still has the blanket he was found in. It's made of a very high quality material and is a beautiful emerald green with little golden thread accents, it's high quality as a result has Danny clinging onto a desperate hope that his bio family might be out there, and the only reason they gave him up was because of some outside factor. It's been taken a few times in old foster homes, and he's flipped out each time.

While he still calls Jack and Maddie by their names, he likes them well enough. The bar isn't that high though, and while they're some of the better foster parents he's had, "better" doesn't equal "safest". Their laboratory malpractice. Basically, C- Fenton Parents. They're negligent by virtue of being engrossed in their work, but they do care equally about Jazz and Danny. So he doesn't hold it against them that much.

He kinda prefers it that way, their loud affection is overwhelming and Danny doesn't know what to do with their attention, even if he craves it. It's a bit of a complicated situation.

They took in Danny because they genuinely wanted another child, but didn't want a big age gap between them and Jazz. It was actually Jack's idea to foster, and they discussed it with Jazz beforehand. She was all for the idea. Thus, a handful of weeks later, a ton of paperwork, and inspection later, and Daniel Brown entered their household with a trash bag in one hand and eyes like shards of stained glass.

His relationship with Jazz is kinda strained, but that's by virtue of her constant psychoanalyzing and helicoptering. Like with the parents, Danny's overwhelmed by the attention and also just, straight up doesn't like the fact that she's telling him that there's something wrong with him. He knows that, thank you. He pushes her away when she does this.

Other than that though? When Jazz isn't smothering him and is acting like an actual sibling and not a third parent, they're pretty close, and Danny really likes her. They've hung out a few times on their own volition, and Jazz showed him how to take better care of his long hair.

His school situation,, pretty similar to canon with the bullying, albeit with a few more instances of him blowing a fuse and lashing out against his attackers. He's a rather angry kid, but it's quiet. It builds up, piles on top of itself, until eventually, like a volcano, it erupts and burns everyone within radius.

Danny's got a fire core, not an ice core. Phantom's hair is made of white magma; thick and heavy, setting itself on fire when his anger runs hot. When he gets angry, his skin begins to char and split open to reveal pulsating lava underneath, and he crackles and pops like a raging forest fire.

I haven't decided yet on how he meets the batfam -- i've got two ideas but they're both in opposition to each other, and drastically alter how the rest of the plot goes. But I do know that him and Damian hate each other in the beginning. And it has nothing to do with inheritance or "being the blood son" -- although their blood relation absolutely plays the major role in their disdain for each other.

Simply put, they're jealous of each other for the same thing: thinking that the other was wanted.

Damian hates Danny because, unlike Damian, Bruce knew about Danny since conception and wanted him from the moment he heard about him. He had a whole nursery set up, and still does. He never took it down -- just locked the door. Damian was thrust upon Bruce without warning, and he feels like he forced himself into the family. And while on some level Damian knows and understands that Bruce wants him and loves him as much as his other children, that doubt and feeling of inferiority still remains. He looks at Danny and sees him with what Damian always feels he needs reaffirmed.

Meanwhile, Danny hates Damian because he looks at him and sees him with everything Danny's ever wanted. He hates him because Damian grew up knowing both of their parents, with one of them for most of his life, and then moved over to the other. There was never a moment where Damian was (seemingly) left to doubt his place within the family. Damian was raised with the very same woman who left Danny on a doorstep, with no clue to his identity beyond a little green blanket and a note with only a first name. Damian was wanted everywhere, and Danny was wanted nowhere. Damian is Danny's replacement in his eyes.

(It's the little revelation that Damian grew up with their mother that elevates Danny from being quietly envious of Damian to downright despising him. What did Damian do, that Danny didn't? He could live with Damian living with Bruce -- Bruce didn't know Danny was even alive. But him living with their mom? Are you fucking kidding him?)

Damian never outright attacks Danny physically, but it's not like he hides that he didn't like Danny. Meanwhile, Danny, in all his repressive anger, quietly despised him from a distance until finally one wrong snide side-comment has him blowing up and it becomes a screaming match. They're both just enough similar to each other that when they look at each other they really just see a mirror.

They'll work it out together, eventually. But it'll be ugly and cruel and explosive, and they'll start mending the bridge to become brothers in more than just blood relation in the end.

But yeah, stillborn Danny has... a lot going for him.

[calliesmemes]

EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”

“   Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”

“   I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”

“   Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”

“   Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”

“   Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”

“   Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”

“   My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”

“   Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”

“   It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”

“   If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”

“   Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”

“   I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”

“   I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”

“   I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”

“   Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

“   Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”

“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”

“   Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”

“   i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”

“   These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”

“   I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”

“   I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”

“   DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”

“   I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”

“   Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”

“   My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”

“   I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”

“   Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”

“   I was born for shock value. ”

“   Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”

“   Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”

“   Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”

“   Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”

“   My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”

“   This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”

“   I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”

“   Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”

“   My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”

“   I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”

“   I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”

“   Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”

“   Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”

“   Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”

“   girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”

“   BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”

“   I just gave your address to some spiders! ”

“   I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”

“   I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”

“   Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”

“   I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”

“   Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”

“   I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”

“   I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”

“   Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”

“   Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”

“   Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”

“   If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”

“   Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”

“   Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”

“   Swag is earned, not learned. ”

“   Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”

“   I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”

“   Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”

“   If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”

“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”

“   I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”

“   It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”

“   Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”

“   At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”

“   Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”

“   Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”

“   One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”

“   On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”

“   My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”

“   I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”

“   Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”

“   I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”

“   Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”

“   I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”

“   I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”

“   Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”

“   Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”

“   I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”

“   I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”

“   Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”

“   i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Paradigm Shift 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you get transferred to a new position but it's hardly a breath of fresh air. (plus!reader)

Characters: Loki, Bucky Barnes, this reader is known as Billie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“So, I’m sending you over to logistics,” Mr. Odinson nearly knocks over your pen cup as he sits on the corner of your desk. He gargantuan figure makes you fear for the integrity of the furniture beneath him. “I trust you can keep things tidy there.” 

You want to ask why you but don’t dare. Thor can be pleasant enough. Personable, friendly even, but you’ve also heard how his voice turns to thunder when he’s angry. You’re not shy of the stories either. Wandering eyes and hands. You don’t think they’d ever find you but you’d rather steer clear of the risk. 

“Logistics?” You wonder. 

“Mm, yes, my brother and his new partner,” he waves his hand dismissively, “they’re in need of a desk jockey to mind their dates. When I tell you how many meetings I’ve shown up to and met only an empty table.” 

“Uh, yes, sir, that sounds... bad,” you eke out. 

“Mm, yes,” his eyes flick up and down, “as it were, Fandral said you did rather well on his little task force so you will go down and sort them out. I would warn you but it better you find out for yourself. Perhaps those two will not be so difficult for one such as yourself, eh?” 

He taps the tip of your nose and you blink in surprise. You’ve witnessed it before. A bit too touchy for HR’s liking but they don’t do anything about it. After all, if you make money, then who cares how you behave? 

“When do I... start?” You ask. 

“Now,” he shrugs, “suppose sooner is better.” 

“Now?” You can’t help the shock in your voice and he narrows his eyes, “yes, sir. Um...” 

“There are boxes in the copier room, pack up your things, they should be expecting you... I think,” he stands and scratches his beards, “who’s to say if they read the email.” 

You’re hardly feeling good about this. He hasn’t said one thing that’s made you confident in your reassignment. You prefer the familiar and after two years, this is finally comfortable. Of course you’re the sacrifice they’ve chosen. Now you have start all over again. 

You get up as Odinson leaves and you head off to the copy room. You find an empty paper back and return to your desk. You put your pen cup inside, your ergonomic keyboard and mouse, the next person can put in a request, and you empty your single drawer into the bottom. You put your bag and coat on top and bid a wordless goodbye to your cubicle. No one else even seems to notice as you pack up your laptop. 

Logistics. You’re not even sure where that would be. You stick to your little corner of the company and keep your head down. 

You look it up in the office directory. A whole floor down. You get on the elevator and bob impatiently as you descend. You step off and march toward your fate. You slow as you pass between the desks of clacking keys and the smell of stale coffee. No one looks very happy. Even if they gossip terribly upstairs, at least they’re lively. 

No one looks up as you stroll by. Right. Where exactly do you go. You’re not seeing a free desk. You near a door with a placard on it. Laufeyson, Odinson’s brother. You glance over to the next door. Barnes, a newly acquired consultant. Alright. 

You knock on the first door and wait. And wait. And wait. You tap a little harder and hear shuffling from within. You step back as the door opens with a harsh swing inward. 

“What do you--” The tall main with his oily black locks stops himself mid-sentence and tilts his head, “and who are you?” 

Your eyes round. Does he not know? Your brows arch and nearly meet in the middle. You frown. 

“Your brother--” 

“Secretary,” another voice grits like gravel from behind you. “Remember?” 

You turn as the blue-eyed man blows across a mug and tastes his coffee. His hair hangs around his square jaw, a thicker set than the other man. You glance between him and Mr. Laufeyson, “secretary? Well, not exactly, your brother sent me for clerical--” 

“Secretary,” Laufeyson insists, “very well. Suppose it will ease the burden of tracking those mindless check-ins,” he makes a sarcastic quotation with his fingers, “as you will. Send a ticket to IT, have them add you to my calendar.” 

The door closes as swiftly as it opened and you stagger back. You look over at the other man as he approaches the next office and rests his grip on the handle, “My partner, Loki Laufeyson; Bucky Barnes,” He motions to himself with his cup, “send that ticket in and add my name.” 

“Yes, sir, but er, wait, I--” 

He just as quickly dismisses you with the open and close of his door. You stand dumbly in the hall and look around. What a warm welcome. You look down toward the bullpen of desks and further down the hall. So, where are you supposed to work? 

You pace up and down the short hallway. You find a closet full of old mice and keyboards, and the breakroom with its worn-out coffee maker and humming fridge. You can’t exactly work in either.  

You sigh and return to the hall. You plunk yourself down between the doors of your new bosses and open your laptop to balance on the box. You sit on your jacket and keep your purse against your thigh as you sit on your feet. You open up the support portal and file the ticket; first task done. You have to wait for access until you can do anything else since neither of them seem to want to explain very much. 

You shake your head. Why on earth did you think it couldn’t get worse? It surely feels like a demotion to be sat on the carpet with cardboard for a desk.

You wonder why you? You suppose you’re not interesting enough for Mr. Odinson to keep around. Still, he doesn’t need to punish you for not being his type. 

Well, so long as you’re paid, you’ll just have to make it work. 

[leqonsluv3r]

picnic date with Leon 🥺

love

re2!leon kennedy x f!reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: so much fluff it’s kinda gross, a little touching, mentions of sex, reader is female and uses (she/her) pronouns, leon is the best boyfriend ever and we love him for that, no physical description of reader except that she has hair, pet names (baby, sweet girl, etc.) based heavily on love by lana del rey (leon is lana coded bc i say so).

“she didn’t know what else to expect to her already worse work week, besides the papers that always seemed to pile up on her desk and swarm her like a colony of hungry bees. she hated her job, wanted to slap her boss and her co-workers. so how could this week get any worse? she thinks it will when her phone buzzes with a text from leon, only to find out if she wants to go on a picnic date this weekend. suddenly, her week just got better by a thousand percent.”

— or reader is having a terrible week and leon decides to spoil his favorite girl

an: thank you for the request, i loved writing something that wasn’t pure smut for once. did include a little seggsy tho (i can’t resist). gave my overworked brain a little vacation lol. i took your idea and ran with it, hope you enjoy <3

masterlist taglist

she actually hated her boss. hated him.

aside from spilling coffee on herself this morning before she left for the office, she had a thousand reports on her desks and emails flooding her work inbox. her boss went on a rant about her work performance and the fact that he was almost using his superiority as a manager to make her feel belittled was enough to send her blood pumping through her veins.

but mindlessly, she tried to get through her day. taking deep breaths and trying not to freak out on her boss. only did her day get worse when she overheard gossip in the break room.

“i hear she’s like some prude. her boyfriend only touches her when he’s drunk.”

she listens in on the gossip, pouring herself some coffee that hopefully won’t make its way onto her pencil skirt again. she wondered who they could possibly be talking about so openly in the middle of the day in the break room.

the other voice goes on, one of her coworkers that she knew from working here so many years, “that’s not true. i know her personally. she told me she’s waiting for marriage.”

her ears perk up at this, all the blood draining from her face, she knew they were talking about her now. her worst fears have been confirmed. she should’ve never stupidly trusted someone she worked with to keep such information about her relationship with leon, private.

she felt so stupid. but they kept going and she kept listening. the other women who she didn’t know opened her mouth again, “still, how much of a prude do you have to be to wait until marriage? like just fuck and get it over with already. unless he’s ugly…”

she feels anger rise in her like tsunami. leon? ugly? he could never be ugly. he was so fucking beautiful. how could this random woman even say that about her and her relationship without even knowing her? she kept her back turned and waited for the coworker she was more familiar with to say something.

“he’s actually quite a looker. shame she got her hands on him, if i had a man like that. i would fuck him until he couldn’t see straight.” she fisted her porcelain coffee cup with white knuckles, almost fuming and waiting for steam to pour out of her ears. jesus, she wanted to smack this woman silly, she considered them friends and now she was just so openly bragging to another woman of the company…that she wanted to fuck her boyfriend of two years.

she fumed and briskly left the break room with her coffee, slamming the door to the room shut behind her as she briskly walked back to her office, trying to keep up a demeanor that was professional and meanwhile she was seething on the inside.

she finally reached her office and went inside, slamming the door as she rounded her desk and sat her cup of coffee down on it. she leaned her elbows on her desk, burying her hands into her hands.

she wanted to cry, this week had been terrible and today was one of the worst out of all of them. and she needed to manage to get through it until after tomorrow.

thanking god it was thursday, one more day and she wouldn’t have to think of this place for a solid 48 hours. she took shaky breaths, trying to calm herself so she didn’t cry at her desk at work. she was still fuming from hearing that conversation in the break room about her personal life.

eventually, her phone buzzed on her desk and she looked down at her phone. she sighs and shakes her head, praying it’s not another report or upset client. she can’t handle anymore of that today, or this week for that matter.

she grabs her phone and looks at the contact, it was leon, she sighs in relief and smiles as she opens the text thread, looking at the screen.

LEON <3 : hey baby, just wanted to check in on my break. hope your doing okay, know it’s been a rough one for u.

besides wanting to cry at my desk all morning. first my boss says my reports are useless and utter shit. then i hear two of my coworkers gossiping in the break room about me like it’s no big deal. i hate this place, this week has sucked :(

LEON <3 : whoa, what? oh my god. are you okay? i know that’s so stupid to ask considering everything u just told me but…god. i’m so sorry.

no, i’m humiliated. i feel like stabbing my eyes out with my pencils at my desk. i hate this place, i hate everyone. minus u ofc <3

but seriously, i can’t wait to get through tomorrow and just be done with this place. even if it’s for two days.

LEON <3 : hmmm, that reminds me. do you still plan on coming over on friday night?

uhhh, yeah. considering i haven’t seen you all week. unless your canceling on me. which just makes me wanna cry more :,)

LEON <3 : oh god no, fuck that. i would never cancel on you baby. i just have an idea. and i was wondering if you would like it, considering how stressful and overwhelming your week has been.

i’m listening….

LEON <3 : you still come over on friday night, you pack a change of clothes and we go for a picnic on saturday. i know a good spot. and plus, im a good cook.

you don’t have to…

LEON <3 : but i WANT too. i wanna make my girl happy after having such an awful week. you need this baby. don’t bother arguing with me >:)

fineeee i suppose i could pack an overnight bag, stay the whole weekend at your place. go on a little picnic and ACTUALLY enjoy myself for once.

LEON <3 : that’s the spirit my love :). don’t worry, i’ll take care of you this weekend. don’t stress and don’t worry. trust in your amazing boyfriend ;)

you are an amazing boyfriend. don’t let that boost your already enormous ego though lol. god, i miss you so much. i can’t wait to see you. :,)

LEON <3 : you only have a little less then 48 hours to go before you see my handsome face again. don’t worry your pretty head baby, i’ll make you forget all about this week. spoil the absolute shit out of you. <3

okay, i gotta get back to work before my boss comes in to belittle me some more about phone usage at work :,). i’ll see you soon babe, i love you.

LEON <3 : see you soon beautiful girl, i love you too. gotta go bust some criminals lol. ttyl :)

she sighs in content, a lovesick grin on her features. she felt so much better, just talking to him through text even. it was enough to make her heart swell with love and forget all about the incidents this week.

she couldn’t wait to see him on friday night, then go on a picnic on saturday like he promised. she needed him like air sometimes. and he had been pulling shifts so frequently at the station that she barely ever saw him.

it sucked, yes. but when they did get to see each other it was absolutely worth it. she knew that he was gonna stay true to his word like he always did. make her happy, spoil her and make her forget all about her sucky week at work.

she loved him so much, it was almost consuming sometimes. overwhelming to think that before she met him two years ago, she had never known love or that men like him could even exist.

god, she was praying for this weekend to come sooner. and hopefully, it would.

eventually she made it to friday, she managed to get through the day, working as hard as she could. she dealt with clients, dodged the lecturing of her boss and the gossiping of her coworkers.

she slipped out early, not really giving a fuck because all her work was finished as far as she was concerned. she had better places to be. like leon’s apartment for example.

she had packed an overnight bag that morning, watered her plants and made sure she had everything. she had kept her overnight bag stored in her car just so when she got off work, she could head straight over.

she sent him a text that she was off and she was heading over early, putting the car in reverse and leaving her works parking lot.

she drove down the familiar streets and roads until she made it to leon’s apartment, parking her car in the guest parking spot. she got out, grabbing her overnight bag and everything else she needed as she locked the car behind her.

she walked over to the gate to enter the complex, typing in the numbers and once it buzzed, she opened it and let herself in. she made her way up to the second floor, walking over to where his apartment was. she slipped her key to his apartment, unlocking the door and slipping off her shoes.

“baby? you home?” she calls out as she drops her overnight bag by her shoes, dropping her keys on the coffee table. she looks around, she feels a buzzing in her hand where her phone is. she looks at the text from leon saying he was on his way home from his shift.

she sighed and looked around his apartment, looking down at the coffee table where she sat her keys in front of his couch. she saw something sticking out from in between the pages of a book he was reading. “what the…?” she opened the book and looked in the book.

a piece of paper with scribbled writing over it, leon’s from what she recognized. she started to read the crumpled up piece of paper.

[READER],

ever since i’ve known you, i’ve loved you. i’ve never wanted anyone more then i’ve wanted you. i’m not just doing this in the hopes you’ll say yes, i’m doing this with the intention that you’ll let me love you for as long as we’re both alive.

i’m not doing it like this to be cliche, i know how much you think im corny. how hard i try to make sure you’re not laughing at me (even though i love your laugh more than anything.) i want you to know that i love you. i always have, i always will.

with that, will you please do me the honor of being my wife?

it would be my greatest achievement as man, as your boyfriend and future husband if you’ll let me.

she feels her eyes well up with subtle tears, wiping at her eyes as she looked down at the crumpled up notebook paper with a small smile, even though the letter didn’t say much, it said enough.

this was just more then a simple picnic, she knew now. why he was so keen on taking care of her this weekend. taking her out for a picnic tomorrow. she can’t believe he wanted to marry her, she wasn’t shocked but she was…she wanted to cry. it was almost like a dream come true.

she was about to re-read the note to make sure she wasn’t dreaming until she heard the lock on his front door click. she scrambled to put the crumpled up piece of paper back into the book where she found it, effectively slipping it in and standing up straight just in time as he entered the door.

“hey, honey.” he says with a small smile, kicking off his shoes. he wore his police uniform still, all pristine in pale blue and navy. she swallowed and wiped at her eyes, “hey.” she shuffles towards him and wraps her arms tightly around him.

he noticed the sniffling and the watery eyes, he craned his neck down to look at her face that was pressed into his chest, rubbing his hands up and down her back in a soothing gesture.

“are you okay? your eyes are red.” he says softly, his voice dripping with such concern it just almost made her heart melt in her chest. she nods and squeezes her arms tighter around him, “i’m okay. i just missed you.” she lies a little, she did miss him, but that wasn’t the true reason for the red eyes.

“okay, baby. it’s okay though, we’re gonna have a good weekend and your not even gonna think about work.” he says softly as he continues to rub her back up and down in a gentle gesture, smiling down at her with a soft grin. she nods, “okay, i’d like that.” she says with her cheek pressed against his chest, sniffling.

she knew she wouldn’t think about work, work was the furthest thing from her mind right now. the only thing on her mind was the picnic tomorrow and the note she had found.

she knew he was going to purpose, she wasn’t even trying to snoop, but now she knew. she loved him even more for it. if that was even possible.

the next day, the morning light would peak through the curtains of leon’s bedroom window. it casted both of them in a glow that was more then just a simple glow of the morning but a new day.

she loves waking up beside him, especially today when the promises of their future hang right over her head. a promise that he’s intending to keep.

she rolls over onto him as he lays on his back, giggling as she does. she presses a small kiss to his chest and then makes a path up to his collarbone, pressing a kiss to his neck. she felt herself growing more aroused by the minute.

she wasn’t a virgin, she had dated plenty of shitty guys before leon. and it isn’t like she didn’t not want to have sex with him, they just decided to wait until marriage. but now that she knew he was going to purpose today, she forgot all about that little promise she made with him.

she presses her lips to his jaw, hearing him mumble something sleepily as she grins against his skin. she leans towards his ear, “wake up.” she mumbles as she moves her hips to sit on his covered dick in his boxers beneath the sheets. her panty clad frame gently moving her hips lightly against his as she adjusts.

she feels him slightly move again, moving in his sleep so she moves her hips more firmly on him again, feeling him grow harder against the fabric that separated them. he mumbles something and she pulls her face out of his neck, bracing her palms flat on his chest.

he slowly opens his blue eyes to meet hers, his dirty blonde hair messily on the pillow. she smiles down at him with a small grin, “morning sleeping beauty.” she chuckles as she leans down to his face and presses a kiss to his lips.

his half-asleep frame is still waking up and trying to wrap his mind around everything. “what are you doing?” he chuckles with a lazy opening and closing of his blue eyes.

“what does it look like im doing?” she says with a small smirk, moving her hips again. he had no idea where this was coming from, they had agreed to wait until marriage and now…

she was straddling his waist, her wet core on top of his morning wood, there were the barriers between them but still, he could feel everything. she tilts her head innocently at him, his blue eyes looking up at her, “why are you so…? what’s gotten into you?” he says with a small furrow of his brows as he leans up on the bed, his elbows propped up behind him.

she bites her lip and looks at him, “why am i what?” she says as she bats her eyelashes at him, feigning innocence. he struggles and takes a shaky breath, “why are you like…all over me? like, we didn’t…i thought you wanted to wait.” he manages to get out with another shaky inhale.

she sighs and rubs her palms over his chest, “i want you, i’ve waited long enough. married or not, i want you.” she says with a small look, letting his blue eyes latch onto hers. she needed him to know she was serious, that this mattered.

she knew he was going to purpose soon anyways, so what was the big deal? that’s what she thought anyways. she didn’t see it as this huge thing, it would be their first time together. but…she was ready.

“unless…your not?” she says with a small sigh as she looks down at him, her palms pressed flat on his bare chest as she looked down at him. he shook his head so fast, his hair flopping as he did, “no, i want it.” he replies as he looks up into her eyes.

“anything that you want from me, i wanna be able to give it to you. even this.” she hears him say as his blue eyes never stray from his gaze on her. she smiles widely and sniffles, “god, i love you.” she whispers as she leans down and presses a kiss to his lips.

it starts slow, his hands holding onto her waist as the kiss grows more intense and passionate. her hips moving against his erection. she doesn’t fear it now, not when she knows what will happen.

not when she can trust him. she knows he’s different, he’s not like the others. she wants to give him all of her, every single part. she wants to give him marriage, her soul, her body. she wants him to have it all.

so as the kisses and the touches escalate, she feels herself trusting in him, letting his love consume her body and mind in a way she had never known before. his kisses were like rain, falling on her skin and soaking there. his touch was like fire, spreading over her body.

it was beautiful, she couldn’t wait to have him with her forever.

the picnic was beautiful.

leon, really knew how to make her forget about her shitty work week. whether it be a picnic, their first time having sex together earlier that morning, or the proposal that has yet to happen.

he really outdid himself. just like he promised, he had cooked and packed a lunch for them by a small pond in a park. it was about a 20 minute drive from his place, how she never knew it was there, she had no idea.

it was beautiful, some swans were in the pond swimming around with their babies, made her smile and think of how leon had made this so perfect without even trying. he spread out a blanket for them, sitting the food down in the picnic basket.

she brushes her hands over her purple sundress, looking at him as he sat down and began to spread out the food for them. “wow, baby. you really thought of everything didn’t you?” she chuckles as she sits down next to him on the picnic blanket.

“of course, anything for my girl.” he says with a sweet smile in her direction as he gets wine out of the basket and two glasses. my girl…jesus, if he’s trying to make me melt, it’s working. she thinks as she watches him uncork the wine bottle, and pour them both red wine into the glasses.

“i know, you spoil me, leon. but still…” she trails off as she looks over at him, she reaches over the blanket and grabs onto his hand. she watches as the subtle breeze blows his dirty blonde hair over his blue eyes and his forehead.

he rolls his eyes playfully and scoots closer to her on the blanket, squeezing her hand back. “don’t argue with me. it’s in your best interest.” he says with a small lopsided smirk as he hands her one of the glasses of wine. she accepts and smiles back at him, sipping on the wine in her free hand.

“fine. i won’t.” she says with a small roll of her eyes, grinning at him as she swallowed the wine. letting it slide down her throat. they stayed in silence for a while, just enjoying the sounds of nature, the breeze that blowed softly and made the leaves rustle in the trees above them.

she let him dote on her a little more, still feeling that anxious bubbling in her stomach that had been occurring since last night. the note, the proposal that had yet to happen. she felt her body get amped up and she was trying not to give her hopes up.

she sipped on her wine, looking over at him as he stared off into the pond a little ways in front of them. she admired him like this, when he wasn’t looking at her. he was deep in thought, in his head and she could almost see the gears turning in his mind.

“thank you, leon.” she says as she snaps out of her daze of staring at him. she didn’t think she could ever not want to stare, admire him like a piece of art in a museum. he lets his head turn her way, looking directly at her, a gentle smile on his boyish features.

“no need to thank me. i wanted to do something special for you.” he says as he reaches across the blanket and rubs his hand over her bare knee. she nods and swallows more nerves, “i don’t need to thank you, but im going to anyways.” she giggles.

he just shakes his head with a teasing grin on his face, he doesn’t mind this. sitting here with her and knowing where it’s going. he almost feels like this can’t be real, sitting here with her. the weather’s perfect and this day is even better.

they continue to just sit together on the picnic blanket, eating and sipping on their wine. they just talk and snuggle up next to each other on the blanket.

eventually the sun starts to set, painting the sky in a beautiful pink and red hue. it almost looks like a painting and she watches it with almost admiration. he knows this is the time, the ring in his pocket burning a hole through his jeans.

she keeps her gaze trained on the sky, not even noticing that he’s staring at her with admiration. he swallows his fears, his nerves and everything that could potentially stop him from doing this.

“your so beautiful, you know that?” he starts as he looks over her features. her gaze only temporarily looking over at him, a blush coating her cheeks. this isn’t how he had planned it, but he’s gonna do this differently.

“of course you know that, i tell you all the time how amazing, beautiful and sweet you are. even to people who don’t deserve your kindness.” he says as his blue eyes stay trained on her, she smiles and bites her lip in bashfulness.

she knows something is happening, but she lets it happen. she doesn’t care…not if it’s a promise to make her happy for the rest of their lives.

“your the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he continues as he looks at her, turning his body a little towards her on the picnic blanket. the ring feels like an anchor in his pocket, keeping him tethered to the moment here with her.

“and i don’t think i’ll ever find anyone better then you, that’s honesty. your the best that’s ever going to happen to me.” he says as he looks deep into her eyes, her eyes blinking back at him as she feels her heart start to pound in her ribcage.

“and i would be a fucking fool if i went on another two years and didn’t show you how much you mean to me.” he says as he fists the ring in his pocket. she feels her heart swell and her eyes water. the smile spreading on her face is the rare kind.

“what are you…?” she says with a small look of disbelief on her face, her smile widening and the crystal of her eyes staring back at him.

he smiles with a small blink of his blue eyes that are now crystallizing over as well, he pulls his palm out of his pocket, opening it up between them to brandish a engagement ring.

she blinks her tears away, raising a hand over her mouth, trying to somewhat hide her shock. “leon…” she looks between the ring in his palm and then his eyes. this was much better then what was written on that crumpled sheet of paper.

“i love you so fucking much, i would do anything for you, to you and with you. only if you’ll let me, forever. please marry me. let me love you forever, let me wake up to you every morning. it would be the greatest honor i could ever have.” he says as he gestures the ring in his outstretched palm.

he looks at her with hopeful and love filled eyes as he does this. she doesn’t even have words, she expected it. but not like this…

this was definitely better.

and he was the love of her life, she couldn’t say no to him, not in a million years. she couldn’t dream of turning him down. of declining his proposal because he’s her happiness. even from two years ago when they met to now…

her body and mind want him the same, love him the same. she knows it will never change. not when it comes to him and just everything he does for her.

“yes…” she says as she sniffles away tears, feeling the breeze in the park billow her hair. the swans swimming idly in the pond in front of them. the sun setting in a beautiful sunset that paints the sky. he blinks at her, he doesn’t think he heard her right for a second.

“did you say…?” she laughs and looks at him, “i said yes. i’ll marry you.” she says as she feels more tears leak down her flushed cheeks. he smiles widely and grabs her hand shakily, his face coated in tears of happiness too.

he slips the ring onto her ring finger and strokes his thumb over her knuckles. he slides his free hand up to cup her jaw, rubbing the tears that slid from her eyes. “oh god, i love you.” he says in a trance as he looks at her.

“i love you too.” she says back to him, catching him in his trance of looking at her. she feels the ring on her ring finger, making its home there. she feels like she’s on cloud nine right now. he pulls her face towards him and presses a kiss to her lips.

she returns it and kisses him back, her hand, now ring clad, holds onto his face as she deepens the kiss. she doesn’t think she could ever be happier then she was right now.

in this moment with him. not a thing matters and her mind and body are full of him. she feels so consumed by him and his love that she can’t even explain it.

she’ll be wrapped in him forever and she can’t bring herself to care if she is. because at least she’s happy, happy and in love.

forever.

leons letter:

taglist: @heartsforvin

(go to this post to join the taglist, pls reblog and follow for more, my asks are open in my bio. i love you all <3)

[lesinquietes]

Years pass. Convict!Shigaraki isn't caught until video surveillance becomes more prominant in society — and your town begins to modernize. He’s on the international Most Wanted list. The cops never stopped searching for him. It’s over when he’s spotted at a gas station. Officers on site book him and search his vehicle. They discover three kids strapped into the backseat. One has his hair. The other two have yours.

The authorities show up at your farmhouse. You answer the door. One of your breasts is on display while you feed your infant. You’re too exhausted to bother covering up. A hand on your enlarged belly denotes that you’re pregnant with a fifth, as well. The men maintain eye contact with you as they enter your home.

They ask you a flurry of questions. How long have you known Tomura Shigaraki — a man who’s wanted internationally? ‘bout a decade. And married for how long? ‘bout a decade. What drew you to him as a husband? He came t’ me. Taught me how t’ be a real woman.

The officers exchange concerned glances. They inquire about a few more things, and then depart. You call out to ask them when your love will be home. They tell you they’ll send someone out to return your kids. They’ll never forget the forlorn expression on your pretty, tired face as they pull off in their squad car, leaving behind a shattered family.

They sit down with Shigaraki, too. He explains how he escaped from the transport van all those years ago. They interrogate him about his family; particularly, you. Around a decade ago, the other town folks noticed you become reclusive. Then, you suddenly had a husband. It certainly raised eyebrows, though no one had to balls to utter a word with him constantly hovering over your shoulder. They ask him why he wanted to settle down with you, of all people.

In truth, he doesn’t know. He didn’t realize how much he would love being a father. He gets to correct the mistake his own piece of shit dad made. Instead of belittling his children, he encourages them. Sure, he includes his fair share of teasing, but it’s not malicious. They’ll just have to get used to a sarcastic parent.

He was going to keep knocking you up until he was satisfied. He thinks motherhood looks beautiful on you. He fell in love with you the longer he stayed in your domain, teaching you how to be his woman, and learning what it means to be cared for. Now, everything you do is bewitching.

Years pass. He spends time in prison. No bail is offered, for fear that he’ll flee the country. They’re right to be cautious; escaping with you and the kids is precisely what he would have done. This time is spent prepping for his case and keeping in contact with his family through letters. He misses you terribly.

Eventually, he’s convicted for murdering several individuals during his drug trafficking scheme, including his own father. He’s also found guilty of assaulting various victims over the course of five years. The other numerous charges are dropped due to lack of evidence. Even still, he’s sentenced to life in prison.

The court asks him to make a statement following the sentencing. He obliges. He had something prepared in advance, positive of this outcome. He makes most of it out to you, his beloved wife.

“I’m sorry, (f/n).” He announces, facing the judge. “I manipulated you into falling in love with me."

Members of the jury gasp.

His intention is threefold. First, he wishes to absolve you of any suspicion that you committed crimes alongside him. If anything, you removed him from leading the life of a vagrant. Second, it shows the courtroom he can afford compassion and empathy to others, which will perhaps aid in lightening his sentence. In the future, he plans to provide information on additional criminals he used to run with in a potential plea deal. Being seen in a more positive light won't hurt his case. Lastly, he wants you to know the truth. It's selfish, as he knows it's too late. You might have wasted your youth, your time, your womb on a villain who got off on deceiving you. He can't bear to glance at you as he continues his monologue.

"I played with your mind like the monster I was, and still, you shaped me into a better man. I have you to thank for countless years of happiness, even when I thought happiness was a myth. I wish I could've been a better role model to our kids."

He doesn’t get a good glance at you when they take him away. He’s devastated. He isn’t sure what his admittance will do to your relationship. He wouldn’t be surprised if you had the marriage annulled and never wanted to see him again.

But lo and behold, you show up on visitation day, in that nice little dress he likes. There's a grand smile on your face when you see him round the corner. He's shocked to see you. When he was told he had a visitor, he thought it was his lawyer. There's no scaring you off, is there; or, perhaps more fittingly, there is no unbreaking your mind... is there?

You tell him how the children are doing. You go into depth about how you and them are working hard to maintain the farm for his return. He doesn't have the heart to tell you that may not be a reality for him — entering civilization again. Instead, he tells you he misses your cooking, your kisses, your hugs. He marvels at how soft he's grown over the years.

At the end of your visit, there are tears in your eyes. It's then that resolve fills his chest, and part of his old self appears. Darkness whispers from the recesses of his mind, prompting him to plot his escape. He can't keep you waiting forever, now, can he? Not now that he’s broken you solely for him.

He promises he'll hold you in his arms soon — and he fucking means it.

Previous l

𝔉𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔲

[eideticmemory]

THE HOUSE ON THE HILL | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

You and your husband are house hunting together! :) It sucks! :)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning/Includes: Husband!Matthew, Dad!Matthew, HusbandYouCan’tStopBickeringWith!Matthew all with a happy ending.

Inflection points are real. When you open one of those cheesy books like Before You Tie the Knot and What to Expect When You’re Expecting, they all mention it. Cohabitation and marriage and children, they’re decisions in your life that take you down a completely different direction from which there is no coming back. And on top of this insurmountable and self-inflicted change is the subtle implication that these are the last decisions you will ever make on your own. Which…sucks, which is different, which takes some adjusting, but it’s never been this hard. It has never been so hard for you and Matthew to band together, put your pride aside, and work as a team to make everybody happy. But this isn’t about something small like marriage or children. This is about a house.

This is serious.

When Matthew said that he was willing to pack up everything and move from California to your home state, you were so happy that you could’ve vomited. Your entire body vibrated with excitement and gratitude and peace. You tore his clothes off right then and there, you were so happy. You were so happy that you were going home and that your daughter would grow up riding down the same streets, that she would never know what LA traffic was like and even more so happy that Matthew didn’t suggest Vegas. You love him, you hate the desert.

And it is with this excitement that you crawled into bed that same night and started scrolling on Zillow. Nuzzled into Matthew’s side, giggling, giddy. Your eyes landed on a house and you clicked it, asking, “What about this one?”

And at the same time, you exclaim, “It’s so cute!” Matthew scrunches his face, saying, “It’s terrible.”

You turn to look at each other, very slowly, making eye contact with just the tiniest bit of fear. But, that was just the first house. You both assumed that it would get easier. That there would be some homes you could heart and save for later. But that never happened.

It just got harder.

Because for whatever reason, four walls isn’t enough for Matthew. No, it’s got to be just like his little lodge with all the nooks and crannies and secret trap doors and stupid spiral stairs that you have slipped on at least three times in the past month. It’s not that you don’t love it here but it is abundantly clear that Bachelor Matthew bought this and it is perfect for Bachelor Matthew, maybe Married Matthew and his Married Wife, but now there’s toys everywhere and a play pen that takes up the entire living room and you do not find it as charming as when you first visited. Nor do you want another house just like it.

You like victorian houses. You like the creepy attics and the creaky floors, stained glass windows and narrow, wooden stairs. You find one on Zillow and you’re so excited to show Matthew, but instead of smiling or hell, even just pretending to show interest, he taps the screen and scoffs, “Four bedrooms?”

And you nearly slap him across the head but married people aren’t supposed to do that. So instead you suck in a slow breath and exhale, “Yes…four bedrooms. What’s wrong with that?”

“So, our room, Rory’s room, guest room and room for…what, one other kid?”

“Who…who is the other kid?”

“Our other kid. Our other kids. Where are they gonna sleep?”

You stutter, shake your head to rescramble your brain, “How many kids are you trying to have, Matthew?”

“Well, I was raised mormon so anywhere between ten to twenty is ideal,” he smirks.

“You being funny? You trying to be funny right now?”

“At least with five bedrooms, we could throw in bunk beds.”

You turn to leave and Matthew grabs your hand, pulling you back into him, “Wait, wait, wait, okay, okay, okay. I think…five bedrooms. Minimum.”

“Oh, are you sure that will be enough for our multiple litters?”

“[y/n],” he laughs.

“Matthew, this house is gorgeous. It’s old and well kept. It’s in a great area, the primary bedroom is stunning, they already have a nursery staged, and you haven’t bothered to look because…because, what? Because we might have ten million children? I mean, we won’t. But what the fuck?”

“It’s not speaking to me. We agreed the house should speak to both of us.”

“Oh, okay, well, let me translate. This house is saying…” you pick up your phone and wave it in his face, “Good luck with those other kids, Matthew. I wonder who you’ll have them with.”

“Oh, that’s funny,” he says as you storm off. “That’s hilarious.”

When he approaches later with a house of his own to show you, you’re patting Rory to sleep on your chest and it kind of annoys you when she wakes up to the sound of Matthew’s voice.

“Look at this one, babe,” he takes a seat beside you. “Five beds, five and a half baths, look,” and you sit quiet, let him scroll through, a subtle nod to the patience he lacks. But, still, quiet, your face says it all and he asks, “Why are you making that face?”

“It’s…” you glance at him. “Boring…”

“What? Boring? It looks like a castle.”

“On the outside…the inside is completely modern. And where…” you tap the screen, “Is it? Oh, no, I don’t want to live at the country club. My daughter will not get mowed down in the street because she was on the back of some corporate heir’s golf cart.”

Matthew tilts his head at you, his jaw dropped in genuine confusion.

“It happens!” you whisper.

“Babe…”

“It’s not speaking to me, Matthew, I’m sorry? What about you, Rory, huh? Is it speaking to you?” And your baby girl babbles, smiling, reaching out for Matthew and it makes him forget that you’re insane for a little bit. “I don’t think it’s speaking to her.”

Matthew takes her into his arms and holds her close, her head instantly falling on his shoulder. “This is about that tiny victorian house, isn’t it?” he asks you.

“Well…” you stand up. “It certainly wasn’t boring…not like you would know.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair…” he nods. “So…you do? Like this house, or…no?”

You roll your eyes and walk off, turning the baby’s sound machine on as you exit the room.

Immediately mediation is necessary. So the two of you decide to hire a realtor and poor Maci, there’s only so much she can do.

“Do you know what zipcode you’d prefer?”

“I personally love the downtown area or the northwest area?” you chime in. “Near the children’s museums and aquatic centers, y’know?”

Maci glances at Matthew but you’re quick to assure her, “Oh, he doesn’t know where anything is here. He’s western.”

And for some reason, that just sets him off? He furrows his eyebrows at you and says, “Well yeah…but I’ve been here plenty of times before.”

“Oh? You’ve visited? Did you grow up here?” you tilt your head at him. “Oh? No? Okay.”

Poor Maci, it was so uncomfortable. At this point, it’s her and Rory looking at each other to cut the tension. And she jots down all these must haves that the two of you fire at rapid speed. Like, for Matthew, it’s a three car garage and at this, you mutter, “Jesus…”

And he goes, “What could possibly be wrong with a three car garage?”

“Nothing! Nothing! We just…only have two, but whatever,” you shrug.

Like, you’d prefer an all brick house and at this Matthew scoffs.

“Oh, you want the wind to blow it down?” you snip.

“Ah yes, the only possible housing options…brick, plastic and straw.”

“There’s nothing wrong with an all brick house. It looks better.”

“So you say.”

“So it is,” you snap, tilt your head at him.

“I’m gonna take Rory outside for a bit,” he stands from his chair.

“Oh, good. Try to find a third car while you’re out there,” and the door shuts behind him.

Maci lets out a tense breath and you smile shyly at her, “So…yeah, brick. Let’s go with brick.”

By the time you get back to your hotel, Rory’s tired and full enough to fall right asleep in her pack and play and it’s perfectly quiet because Matthew hasn’t said a word to you.

“So,” you grumble. “You’re just…not gonna talk to me…forever? You don’t like me anymore?”

“You embarrassed the hell out of me in front of that lady.”

“Ditto.”

“Okay, well, I need you to be okay with me disagreeing with you sometimes. It doesn’t mean I don’t like you. I love you!”

And he says this with so much conviction that you feel your guard drop. “You love me?”

His face softens, “Yes…c’mon. Be serious. I love you more than anything. You’re just…ugh,” he pushes his hair back. “Easy to disagree with.”

Guard: back up. “Easy to disagree with?” you repeat after him, ennuciating every word. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” he shrugs. “Exactly that.”

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment and can’t even look directly at him as you say, “Yeah, don’t talk to me anymore.”

He gives you the most passive aggressive thumbs up to ever exist, “Sounds good.”

You take a nice, long, long shower and when you come out of the bathroom, Matthew and Rory are watching Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood on the TV. They give you the exact same look when their heads whip around, definitely related, definitely happy to see you. Her tiny hands reach out for you and Matthew, with his face neutral, lifts the blanket to let you in. You crawl into bed and land in the crook of his arm because that’s your spot. Your head falls on his chest and it’s okay because, technically, he’s not speaking to you.

Maci lines up exactly five houses for you to tour on your next visit. She figures, surely, one must be a common ground. Out of them all, the right one must be there.

Poor Maci.

Two zipcodes. Brick. Plaster. Grand great rooms. Kitchen islands, sometimes two. Libraries. Bay windows. Basements. Each house sings its own special song. Some, you hear clear as day, calling you home. They speak to you. They don’t speak to your husband. Unfortunately, that matters.

In the last house, you follow Maci around until the dreaded, “what do ya’ think?” question in the kitchen.

“I love it,” Matthew grins. And that grin sinks when he sees the pout on your lips. Your arms across your chest. “[y/n] doesn’t.”

“Oh, don’t speak for me,” you roll your eyes.

“But you don’t like it, though.”

“It’s…boring.”

“Okay,” he sighs. He can’t hear you say that one more time. “Babe, no one knows what that means.”

“Um, I think Maci knows, soooo must just be you.”

The glare you two give each other, on either side of this luxury island, is intense enough to make the entire 3,000 square feet house feel small. Very, very small.

Rory is with your parents and without her, the drive back to the hotel is very quiet. Very tense. Matthew rushes into the bathroom as soon as he can and you plop down on the bed with a heavy sigh. When he emerges from the bathroom, he’s shirtless and pouting and moody and broody and you can feel it. You can see it in the way he stomps around and rummages through his suitcase.

He says, “So,” without turning to you. “Not one winner today?”

“Ugh!” It flies out of your mouth before you can contain it. You literally pull at your hair in frustration and Matthew watches with his mouth agape. You rip your shirt off your body and the cool air from the fan hits you immediately. Now you’re both shirtless and pouting and moody and broody. You don’t need to talk about it.

“Do we have to discuss it right now or can we postpone for like…an hour or so?” you ask. You insist. You are begging, tilting your head at him.

And his first thought is: no way she’s trying to fuck me right now? But you are. He can see it in your eyes and the way they lower as he walks over to you. Your hands plant themselves on his waist and you lean into his touch as his palm engulfs your cheek.

“Make it two hours?” he runs his thumb along your lip.

You shrug, running your hands up his waist, “Make it as long as you’d like.”

He nods, “Okay,” and pushes you back onto the bed where you land with a quiet ‘oof!’ before he crawls on top of you.

It kills a lot of time. Lot of tension to work out.

Your body is relaxed like never before as you lay there naked against his chest, with his lips peppering soft kisses on your sweaty shoulder. As you catch your breath, it’s the most comforting silence you’ve shared in a while.

You touch his lips and he kisses your fingertips, holds your wrist in his grasp. “Not one winner, huh?” he whispers, holding to catch you at peace.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head and cover his mouth. “Not yet.”

He nods, nibbles on your wrist, “Fair enough.”

Your both in such a good mood when you go to pick up Rory. She crawls over to you at lightning speed and babbles excitedly and you coo over her like you’ve never met her before. You missed her.

And this joy is misinterpreted in a way that someone says, “You two are happy, did you find a house?” so your smiles drop.

“No,” you say in unison.

As Maci embarks on her next hunt, she’s opted for sending you virtual tours. She sends them in groups of four at a time and they are very useful. You can lay in bed, curled into Matthew’s side as he clicks around on his laptop and the serenity of it makes it harder to bicker.

Doesn’t make any of the houses suck any less, though. Doesn’t stop the annoyed sighs and smacking of teeth and the abrupt ‘whatevers’ to change the subject and the screen.

The very last of the bunch, you have your hopes up. The exterior is promising. The number of bedrooms, bathrooms. Matthew opens the view of the entryway and you just stand up, “I’m done. I’m going to shower. Goodnight.” And he, just as disappointed, shuts the laptop quickly.

It was nice to at least be on the same page with that one.

And poor Maci, she’s trying so hard. The two of you are stressing her out, but it’s hard to say what the outcome would be without a realtor equally as stubborn. Because when she thinks - no. When she knows she’s found the one, she calls your phone at midnight and leaves a voicemail saying - I am so sorry to call you so late but there is a house and I want you and Matthew to come see it as soon as possible. [pause] How soon can that be?

It’s soon. You make the trip back out there but it is done with very little enthusiam or optimism. You suspect that Maci knows this and she’s opting for suspense to lure you in. This is a blind viewing. She’s driving. You just have to wait and see.

“The country club?” is your first impression as she drives you into the neighborhood.

“Is this not one of the zipcodes you picked?” Matthew asks you and you roll your eyes.

“Yes. It is, I’m just making an observation. Damn.”

“You can opt in or out of being a member at the club,” Maci chimes in. “Completely voluntary.”

“Is this where we’re gonna live, Maci?” Matthew laughs.

“I think so,” she nods. “I really think so.”

Because all you and Matthew wanted was to know. To not have to think, but to see it and know. To see a house that was, at first sight, yours. To know.

And when you slowed down upon the house on the hill, you both knew. You both gasped. You looked at each other.

The driveway is gated and is almost like a rollercoaster up the hill. This rollercoaster ends at nothing other than a three car garage on an all brick house. Brick stairs leading the front door which lead to an entryway where you feel it. You know, with one step on the hardwood floor, this house is yours.

Maci goes into full tour mode, “So this is the foyer and all you walk in, you have your formal dining room on the left…” and you are holding Matthew’s hand. You are holding his hand and wrapped around his arm and the two of you are walking and staring at this house and Maci’s voice just sounds like “blah blah blah blah blah…”

There’s two islands in the kitchen. A large sunroom right beside it that gives entry to the lush backyard. A center fireplace in the living room. Built in bookshelves. A guest room, a guest bathroom.

It all just flows.

The main bedroom is upstairs and it has two closets. You nearly faint in each other’s arms - two whole closets!

There’s 4 additional bedrooms on the upper floor and so, yes, should it be that you have multiple litters of children, there’s room. Just in case.

Way below is the basement where there’s not only plenty of room to lounge but a full wet bar lined with green tile and neon lights lining the walls. You exit the basement and plant your feet in the driveway, coming full circle to Maci’s car. She turns to you both, her smile as wide as yours.

“So?” she asks anxiously.

You look at your husband and he’s already looking at you. “Speaking to you?” he grins.

“Yelling at me,” you laugh.

He giggles and can’t help but kiss your cheek. He turns to Maci and nods, “You were right. This is it.”

The paperwork and red tape is the last of the bullshit and that itself feels very short in comparison to the past few months. It’s the easiest. It’s the happiest. So far. By the time the two of you are alone in your car, you take a full minute to breathe. Then you look at each other and the words come rushing out.

“Is it really over?” you ask.

“It’s really over.”

“I love it. Do you love it?”

“I love it!”

“Me, too! Aw, I wish Rory had been there. I wish she had seen it.”

“She’ll see it. She’ll love it.”

“She will!”

And with the sweetest laugh ever, Matthew grabs your face and kisses you. You’re giggling so much that it’s not a true, proper kiss but it does its job. You get the message.

“Do you know what this means?” he says.

“Yes, now I won’t have to smother you in your sleep.”

“No no, you’ve still got plenty of time for that. Besides that, do you know what this means?”

You chuckle, kiss his nose, “What?”

“Furniture shopping!” He cheers.

You gasp, you tear yourself away from him just to buckle your seat belt. “Oh, my god. You’re so right. So true.”

He laughs as he buckles himself in, holding your hand in his, kissing your knuckles. He asks, “Are we friends again?” with a pout on his face and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

You bring his hand to your face and kiss his knuckles in return, “Best friends.”

[ashley-foster-13]

Hi! Me again, I just can't stop reading tmr headcanons. Can I request 'what would tmr boys reaction would be if their S/O got kidnapped instead of Minho.' Thank you!

What would tmr boys reaction would be if their S/O got kidnapped instead of Minho

- His s/o was not the type to throw themselves in danger

- however, when the berg showed on the horizon, they were one of the first people to put their hands on a rifle

- Thomas got there late, and there was no s/o in sight, so he figured they were safe

- until they sprang out of nowhere, trying to tackle Janson

- the nearby soldier knocked them out right away

- Thomas struggled against the two soldiers holding him down

- misplaced his shoulder in the process

- he yelled the name of his s/o so loudly he probably wouldn't be able to speak for a week

- a huge fight started, during it the kids, including his s/o were loaded in the berg and took off

- being reckless as he is, Thomas managed to keep Janson off board, beating the living hell out of him

- soldiers stopped him, but not before Ratman was half dead and bleeding

- Thomas didn't hide his tears

- was terrified Wicked would experiment on s/o, or kill, or God knows what else

- wouldn't stop thinking about how to save them

- would do anything to get them out alive

- would have dreams when he saves them and hugs and kisses them, wakes up with tears of happiness streaming down his cheecks only to realize it wasn't real and cry some more, but in fear and sadness

- after saving his s/o, Thomas is super overprotective of them

- like, every little thing, a paper cut or a bruise or a slightly different voice would make him run towards them, asking if they were okay

- eventually came back to normal

- but we all know he's soooooo caring and protective

- the moment he saw his s/o in Wicked's arms, his world stopped

- however, he got out of his stupor quickly, trying to run for you, but the soldier kicked his bad leg, causing him to fall

- when he finally managed to stand up, s/o was already gone

- he kept yelling curses at them, kept hitting those injured soldiers who were left there to die

- it helped nothing and he knew that

- honestly, he could've murdered someone if not for Minho, who held him in a tight hug until he calmed down

- his anger turned to an agony

- he was crying hard, because he was in terrible pain, physically and emotionally

- he vowed to get s/o back safe and sound

- would be the first to find them, as if he felt where they were

- didn't let go of their hand until they reached the Safe Haven

- both didn't go out of the hut for a couple of days, talking, crying and promising their love to each other

- when he barely escaped being captured by Wicked, he thought the victory was there

- little did he know they grabbed s/o instead

- s/o bravely fought the soldiers, but Minho couldn't see it

- and then his s/o stands on the berg, helplessness in their eyes as they take off

- and Minho just stands there, angry at Wicked, and furious with himself for being unable to help

- Newt and Thomas promise they'll find his s/o

- he became very grumpy after that, but also really really silent

- sometimes his bottled up feelings would unleash on everyone because of any little thing

- like a stupid question, or a fallen fork

- he wpuld be so eager to find his s/o he didn't even think when he stalked inside the Wicked headquarters fighting off every soldier like they were bugs

- he found s/o exhausted, hurt and bleeding

- but they were alive, that's all that mattered

- hugged them all the way back

- watched as the medics patched them up, controlling everything

- never leaving their side while rlthey recovered

[hailthegodsong]

LOVE IS OLD, LOVE IS NEW

One Shot Part 2 ~ Daniel Wagner / Female Reader 𓅪 Link to Part 1

AN: Part 2 is finally here! It is way longer than I intended, but oh well. This is also my first time ever writing smut so... hopefully it isn't terrible. Hope you like the story!!

Word Count: + 15.7k (sorry)

Content Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, anxiety, stress, catastrophising thoughts, mild drinking, pining, self doubt, insecurity, jealousy (if you squint), mentions of STD's, kissing, pushy ex, unwanted digital contact, arguing, profanities, yelling, threats, physical violence, SMUT 18+ INCLUDING: grinding, first time oral (f! receiving), hand job, blow job, fingering, unprotected p in v, cockwarming, slight hair pulling, nipple play, a little bit of pain, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, squirting, sensitivity/ overstimulation, hickeys/ neck kissing, plain old sex, use of the birth control pill, teasing, peeing with someone else there?, talk of money and financial situations, mentions of moving out/ in together, mentions of financial dependence, and of course: Danny being a sweetheart ♡

𓅪

As you stared into the circular mirror perched above Danny’s record player, your hands moved restlessly through your hair, fluffing and smoothing with a kind of desperation. No matter how many times your fingers combed through the strands, it wouldn’t settle, either lying limp and lifeless or rebelling with fluff and frizz.

A frustrated sigh escaped your lips as you stepped away, your reflection an unsatisfying blur of anxiety and imperfection. The room seemed to close in on you, the air thick with the tension that had been building ever since the evening plans were set. You wandered around Danny’s room, half-heartedly searching for a hair tie, as if taming your hair might somehow calm the chaos in your mind.

It had been three days since your world had flipped on its axis. Three days since Otis’s betrayal had cracked open a fault line in your heart, only for Danny to gently step in, filling the fissures with his tender love and care that had always been simmering just beneath the surface. Three days since your quiet friendship had shifted into something more, something that felt inevitable in hindsight. You and Danny had always been close, but the way you’d fallen into each other– how quickly the kisses and whispered “I love you’s” had come, felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Ignoring the pleading messages Otis had bombarded you with, you blocked him on every platform you could think of, eager to erase his existence from your life. Reluctantly, you made the dreaded visit to the doctor, fearing the absolute worst, at the prospect that the woman he had been sleeping with was a long-term partner and may have harboured STDs. To your immense relief, you were given the all-clear, completely clean.

With that chapter behind you, you returned to your new life with Danny, basking in the warmth of his loving presence. On the first day, he greeted you with flowers, and the next, it was coffee and pastries. Your favourites, of course, because Danny seemed to know absolutely everything about you, even when it came down to your flavour profiles. By the third day, it was the compliments. Genuine, thoughtful words that melted the remnants of insecurity you had left over from Otis.

Danny made everything feel different. He wasn’t trying to win you over with grand gestures; he was simply there, day in and day out, showing you what it meant to be cared for. It was the small things that got to you. The way he listened when you talked, the way he seemed to notice every little detail about your behaviour– he was perfect. He was everything you hadn’t known you needed. Attentive, patient, and a steady anchor when your own thoughts spiralled out of control. 

He had this way of watching you, knowing exactly when to step in, when to hold you, when to simply let you breathe. His love was this soft, unspoken force, always there, always giving. Since that night, it was as though his entire world had shifted; the way he looked at you and touched you felt like you had become his new centre of gravity.

But tonight, the bubble of quiet intimacy you’d built was about to be burst. Sam’s birthday meant an evening at the bar with himself, Jake, Josh, and the rest of your close-knit circle of friends. It meant the privacy of your shared love was about to be exposed to your little world, and that thought filled you with a kind of nervous dread that clenched your stomach into knots. 

You had known the boys for years, grown up with them practically, but now that things had changed, you were terrified of what they might think. What if they didn’t approve? What if they thought you were a poor match for Danny, that you weren’t good enough? He was, after all, a rockstar.

You knew that he had spent years on the road, meeting countless beautiful, glamorous women. Women who could capture his attention in ways you couldn’t. That insidious doubt gnawed at the edges of your mind, making your palms clammy and your heartbeat uneven.

It was as if you had already made up your mind. It had become definitive to you that Danny was going to leave you by the end of the night. You should’ve really been looking for a new place to stay instead of a silly hair tie. 

Your search felt increasingly futile as you rifled through Danny’s drawers, met only with the sight of tangled cords, loose change, guitar picks, drum gels and other random trinkets. The anxiety built until you could hardly focus, your hands shaking slightly as they sifted through the clutter. You blew out a long, slow breath, trying to expel the nerves, but they clung to you, tight and suffocating.

Just as your frustration reached its peak, you felt a sudden warmth at your waist. Startled, you jumped, a gasp slipping from your lips and Danny’s hands quickly parted from your skin to give you space. Spinning around, you met his wide-eyed expression of surprise, concern etched into the soft lines of his face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Danny said quietly, his voice a low murmur that wrapped around you like a balm. He stepped back slightly, though his hand remained hesitantly offering in the air for you to take, fingers curling and straightening in a wordless offer of support. He slowly reached forward to slide his hand into yours. His touch was warm, familiar. But tonight, even that wasn’t enough to quell the storm inside you.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, a little too quickly, before taking your hand from his and turning away to continue your frantic search. Drawers opened and closed with sharp movements, your hands still trembling slightly as you tried and failed to focus on the task at hand. It wasn’t about the hair tie anymore. You knew that. This was about the weight of what tonight would mean.

“What’re you looking for?” Danny asked, his voice soft and steady. He watched you carefully, the crease between his brows deepening with every anxious movement you made. He could see the tension radiating from you, though you had been trying to hide it all day. Now, it seemed the walls were crumbling.

“A hair tie,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair again. “I can’t get my hair right. It’s just... bothering me. And I can’t go out with it like this.” The words spilled out in a rush, barely making sense, your frustration evident in every syllable. “Do you not have a single hair tie anywhere in this room?”

Danny blinked, momentarily thrown by your frazzled state. Then, without a word, he raised his wrist, revealing the brown hair tie wrapped beside his bracelets. “Here,” he offered quietly, slipping it off and motioning for you to spin around with a small, patient smile.

You sighed, feeling a mix of gratitude and exhaustion as you turned around. He stepped in close behind you, his presence warm and steadying as his hands moved gently, gathering your hair with practised ease. His fingers brushed softly against your scalp, and you found yourself melting slightly into his touch, the tension beginning to drain from your body as he smoothed away the stray strands.

“What’s really going on?” Danny’s voice was low, intimate, his breath warm against the back of your neck as he continued to gently pull your hair back. You could feel the tenderness in every movement, the way he seemed to know exactly how to calm you, even when words escaped you.

A soft sigh slipped from your lips, and you crossed your arms protectively over your chest, looking down at the floor. “I’m just… really nervous.”

“Nervous about tonight?” he asked, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it from you.

You nodded, biting your lip as you struggled to find the words. “Yeah, I don’t know... I’m– I guess I’m just scared that none of them will approve, or that they’ll think you deserve better. I mean, you’ve been all over the world, Danny. You’ve met so many people. So many women. I just... I don’t know how I can compare to any of them.”

He paused, the gentle tugging on your hair stopping as his fingers stilled. You could almost feel his frown. “Deserve better? Baby, what—”

You shook your head quickly, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise in your cheeks. “Just forget it. It’s stupid. Thanks for the hair tie.”

But before you could take a step away, Danny’s arms slipped around your waist again, pulling you back into the warmth of his embrace. His chest pressed against your back as he buried his face in your hair, his breath a soft, steady rhythm against your skin.

“No,” he murmured firmly, his voice laced with quiet determination. “That’s not how this works. You’re not just gonna bottle this up. Tell me what’s going on, and we’ll figure it out together. ‘Kay?”

Your heart swelled at his words, the gentle pressure of his arms around you grounding you in a way that nothing else could. You nodded like an idiot, and let Danny lead you over to the edge of the bed that you had been sharing for the past few nights. 

You picked at a stray piece of wool that had escaped the hemline of your sweater as Danny's gaze burned into the side of your face.

He was the first to break the short silence, “Where is this coming from? You never doubt yourself like this.” 

He was right. You, like probably every other person on the planet, had insecurities, yet you had an ability to never let them hold you back. It was something that Danny loved about you– the way that you could be unabashedly yourself, despite what others thought about it. That was until your douchebag of a boyfriend cheated on you with possibly the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen. 

You hesitated, not wanting to come across as fragile or jealous. You shrugged one of your shoulders and nuzzled your cheek into the bone, “I dunno, I guess after Otis… I just– I,” you stumbled, trying to find the wording. Danny was patient with you, his arm stroking your back with ease and cation in silence as he gave you the time to spit the words out. “I’m worried it’ll all happen again. I mean, I know you would never do that. But next time on tour you might see or meet someone and I– what if I can’t be good enough for you?”

Your lips pressed into a tight line as you stared at your hands, revealing the underlying thoughts that had been pressing in on you for the past few days. 

“I don’t think you truly understand how long I’ve waited for you. How much I love you. I don’t want all those other people, I want you. And as for the boys… they’ve known for quite some time about my feelings. If anything they’ll have a word with me about treating you right,” he chuckled and tucked one of my baby hairs away from my face, “Just watch, I’m sure they’ll embarrass the shit out of me tonight talking about how much of an idiot I’ve been all these years.”

You sighed, “Okay.” You knew he was right, he had done nothing to make you expect anything different, but it had been hard nonetheless to accept treatment different than to what you were used to. 

His large fingers reached to your chin, almost engulfing it between his thumb and forefinger as he guided your gaze to his. He looked at you with such gentleness, such softness that you felt as if you were floating in his love. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours lovingly. 

You hummed into the kiss, your body gravitating to him as you succumbed to the familiarity of Danny. Whether you realised it or not, he had always safekept your heart, and only now was he able to show it off. He was proud to have you walk into the room on his arm, and had been nothing but excited at the prospect of showing you off. 

But, as always, Danny cared about you more. Always put you first, and he didn’t want you to be forced into a situation that made you uncomfortable. 

Danny pulled back only slightly, separating your lips but hovering still that you shared the same breath. “We can stay home tonight if you’re feeling anxious. I’d hate for you to feel forced to do something that you don’t want to do,” he offered. 

You were quick to shake your head, and you brought your hand up to stroke his cheek, “No. I’m fine, just a bit nervous. I want to go out, promise,” you assured. “Plus, I’m feeling much better now,” you said with a flirtatious bat of tour eyelashes, bringing him in for another kiss. 

You felt him smile into it, and one of his hands travelled from your back down to your hip, leaving a wave of vibrations in its wake.

You and Danny hadn’t been intimate yet, nothing apart from the innocent touches in your shared shower had occurred between the two of you. You were both teetering around the prospect on your tiptoes, never wanting to be the one to cross the line and make distance on such new territory.

And to be completely honest, you were absolutely terrified. You had only slept with a few others in your life, so it was safe to say that you were fairly inexperienced. Danny however, you were sure had slept around. You had seen firsthand the types of girls that left your shared apartment in the early hours of the mornings, and it petrified you.

You felt like a virgin all over again– what if you didn’t know what you were doing? What if you did something wrong? You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t worried about the physicalities of it all too. You had seen how… large he was and truly feared that things might not work out the way you’d hope. But worst of all, what if he didn't like your body? What if, after being sexually intimate, Danny realised that he didn’t like you so much after all?

It was silly, seeing as you'd shared a shower with him only days before; a shower where he fondled your breasts and touched you in ways more intimate than you'd ever been touched, yet the fear still crept into your mind like cancer.

“C’mon then, if we don’t leave soon we might actually be later than them,” Danny remarked and he pulled away from the kiss, simultaneously pulling you from your racing thoughts too. 

Danny watched mostly silently from the edge of the bed as you gathered your things, seeing as he was already ready and you had wasted most of your time picking at your appearance. 

“You look beautiful,” he complimented once you had finally packed your purse with essentials and deemed you looked good enough. He took your hand and walked you to the front door, and you leaned into him, smiling at his complement. “Like always,” he added, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

You didn't have time to blush before he was rushing you out the front door, claiming you were going to ruin his punctual reputation with your record breaking slowness. You were hurried out in tufts of laughter as he expertly directed you from any impending thoughts that may sabotage this night from going well. And you were too blinded by his humour to even notice. 

It was a beautiful night, you realised as you stepped out of the car after the short drive to the bar. There wasn't a cloud in the sky to obscure the gorgeous view of stars overhead, and although a cool breeze drifted by, the air was warm. 

Danny extended his forearm and you wrapped your arms around it tightly, letting him anchor you amidst your floods of anxiety. He kissed the side of your hand and led you through the front door. You were stopped at the door briefly by the bouncer to provide ID, before you were engulfed in the loud atmosphere of your friend's favourite bar. 

A live band was performing in the back corner, a small crowd circled around them as they swayed to the melody of the loud acoustics. The hum of the music was infectious, the energy almost tangible as it rippled through the room. You let Danny lead you into the bar, his hand wrapped tightly around yours, holding it in a way that made your heart flutter.

There was something so grounding about his touch, steady in the chaos of the thick mass of bodies. The smell of beer and perfume lingered in the air, mingling with the low murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses.

“Here they are!” a voice as recognizably distinct as Josh’s yelled, somehow reaching volumes far higher than the music, causing a few heads to turn at the sound. You spotted him immediately, standing with the rest of the group who had all turned to watch your entrance.

Your heart gave a nervous kick, and you fought to keep your hand still in Danny’s as warmth flooded your cheeks. It wasn’t unusual for you two to show up places together, seeing as you shared an apartment. But holding hands? That was new. Unfamiliar. And definitely not something anyone had seen before tonight.

You reluctantly separated as you approached everyone individually, greeting your friends with hugs and hellos, the usual pleasantries exchanged with an underlying buzz of anticipation. 

“Happy birthday, Sam!” you exclaimed when you reached him, your arms automatically wrapping around him in a familiar embrace. He hugged you back, squeezing you tightly like the old friend he was. Sam was nearly as close to you as Danny, the three of you forming an inseparable trio since middle school, your bond running deep from shared experiences through the awkward teen years into high school.

“Thank you, I’m glad you could make it… Danny told me about, you know, what happened.” He stuffed his hands into his front pockets, rocking back on his heels with a slightly awkward, sympathetic smile. There was a depth to his words, a weight behind the casual tone, and it caught you off guard.

Heat rushed to your face, embarrassment washing over you. You couldn’t help but feel a stab of betrayal that Danny had already told Sam about your new relationship. It wasn’t as if it were a secret, you were planning on telling everyone tonight anyway, but it still felt wrong, like something had been taken from you before you were ready.

“But don’t let it get you down, ‘kay? He’s an idiot. We always knew you could do better than him. What was his name again anyways? Otto?” Sam added.

Relief hit you like a wave, your body relaxing as you realised Danny hadn’t been telling everyone your business. Of course he hadn’t. He promised he wouldn’t, and Danny was nothing if not true to his word. Guilt bubbled up inside you for doubting him in the first place, and you offered a small, apologetic smile to Sam as you tucked a few stray hairs behind your ear.

“Otis. But yeah, I know, he was a dick…” Your voice trailed off as your thoughts wandered back to the night’s real purpose. When would be the best time to reveal your relationship? You mentally kicked yourself for not rehearsing this with Danny beforehand, feeling woefully unprepared.

“Hah! That’s one way to put it!” Sam was clearly a few drinks in already, his smile lazy and lopsided. He slung a heavy arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side with a little too much force as he spun you both around until you were facing Danny, who was deep in conversation with Jake, a beer in hand.

Sam extended his arm, motioning toward where Danny stood. “Now, it’s been a while since Daniel’s gotten any, so I invited some of my lovely lady friends over there,” he said, nodding his head toward a group of four or five girls. Their hair was pin-straight, dresses tight and short, their eyes scanning the room as they chatted amongst themselves. “Josh and I have made bets on which one will be the lucky lady, what d’ya think?” He nudged you playfully, clearly unaware of the impact his words were having on you.

Your heart dropped, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest as you watched one of the taller girls flip her hair over her sharp shoulders, her full and unnaturally large lips puckering slightly as she spoke to her friends. The knot in your stomach tightened, twisting uncomfortably.

“Oh, um, I don’t know,” you murmured, your voice small as you tried to mask the growing discomfort. You shifted uneasily under Sam’s arm, feeling the pressure of his intoxicated weight and the sting of his ignorance. It was becoming too much, too fast. You weren’t prepared for this level of emotional turbulence tonight.

“You alright?” Sam’s voice cut through your thoughts, concern lacing his words as he loosened his grip on you slightly. You nodded, but it wasn’t convincing. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you swallowed thickly, wishing more than anything that you had taken Danny’s offer to stay home. This was supposed to be a celebration, but the tension in your chest told you otherwise.

The sound of your name broke through the fog of your thoughts, and when you looked up, there was Danny, standing right in front of you, his presence like a balm to your nerves. Relief flooded through you as you met his eyes, those warm, steady eyes that always seemed to ground you when you needed it most.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concern as he took in your pale expression. “I was about to head to the bar, but didn’t know what you’d like to drink.”

Before you could respond, Sam butted in with his usual boisterous charm. “Daniel, brother! How are you?”

Danny offered a polite smile. “Good, good, Sam. Want me to grab you something from the bar too?”

Sam’s attention shifted momentarily as he waved a hand toward the group of girls again, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “No, thank you. But I think one of those lovely ladies over there would be delighted to get a drink…” He wiggled his eyebrows, the innuendo unmistakable. 

Danny’s shoulders sagged slightly in understanding, his eyes darting to yours. You could see the apology written all over his face, the unspoken ‘I’m sorry this is happening’ lingering between you.

“No, Sam,” Danny said, stepping closer to you, his hand gently brushing against your back as he subtly unhooked Sam’s arm from your shoulders. His touch was protective but soft, like he always knew how to comfort you without making a scene. “I’m actually… not looking for anyone. I'm not single anymore,” there was a pause, “We’re not single anymore.”

Sam blinked, his drunken mind clearly struggling to keep up with the sudden shift in conversation. “No? Since when? Who’re you dating?”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up, a mix of amusement and nervousness. Danny’s hand settled on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, his lips lingering just long enough to make the meaning clear.

Sam’s eyes went wide, realisation dawning on him in slow motion. “Oh my God! Finally! It’s finally happening!” he yelled, drawing even more attention from the nearby crowd. Before you had a chance to react, Sam had taken off, rushing through the bar to find Jake and Josh.

When he returned, both twins in tow, their faces a mixture of confusion and mild irritation, Sam was still buzzing with excitement. “Danny, tell them! Tell them!” His voice was loud, his enthusiasm infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile despite the chaos.

Neither of you had to say a word, though. The way Danny held you, his arm secure around your waist, told them everything they needed to know.

“It’s about fucking time,” Josh exclaimed, walking forward to pull you into a hug, which felt incredibly unnecessary. His embrace was strong, almost squeezing the breath out of you, but you could sense his genuine excitement through his tight grip. You let out a small laugh, feeling the warmth of the moment despite the slight awkwardness of the hug.

Jake whooped from the side, clearly several drinks in, his face flushed from both alcohol and excitement. It made you wonder how much he had been drinking with Sam before this. 

“Well, who made the first move?” he asked, grinning mischievously as his voice rose over the noise of the party. He looked from you to Danny, eyes gleaming as he added, “We’ve placed bets on this, you see.”

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at that, the absurdity of them betting on something like this catching you off guard. When you looked up, you saw Danny blushing deeply, his face redder than you'd ever seen before. It was a rare sight to see him so flustered.

You decided to move to a nearby open booth to talk, grateful for a chance to settle your nerves a bit, and Danny’s hand, warm and steady against your back, was the only thing keeping you grounded.

For a brief moment, you’d almost forgotten about the girls who had been invited to keep Danny company, their presence now completely irrelevant.

“Well,” you started once you were all seated in the booth, the comfortable leather seats making everything feel much more intimate, “It all kind of came out three days ago, after… you know.” You shifted slightly, feeling the familiar unease at the memory of Otis. The weight of that situation still hung in the air, but Jake’s quick nod of understanding helped ease the tension. He then raised his brow expectantly, waiting for you to spill the details.

You looked up at Danny, silently asking him to take over. You trusted him to handle this, and as always, Danny seemed to read your mind. He gave you a small nod before speaking, his voice calm and reassuring. “Well, before we tell you, we’ve gotta hear the bets first.”

The boys laughed, all leaning back in their seats, their playful energy filling the booth. “Well, I always thought Danny was too much of a pussy to admit anything,” Josh said with a grin, throwing his arms lazily over the back of the booth chair. “Bet a hundred and fifty on it.” The casual way he tossed out the number surprised you, and you raised your brows at the high price. You heard Danny chuckle softly beside you, clearly amused.

“I agreed,” Sam chimed in, his voice carrying the same lightheartedness. “Danny’s been talking about you for so long, and I knew the longer he waited, the harder it’d be for him to actually say anything. Jake’s the only one who believed in him, it seems.”

You turned to look at Danny, raising a brow, silently acknowledging the truth in their words. As much as you loved Danny, you had to admit that the majority guessed right.

“Well? Who was it? Who made the first move?” Sam asked again, his eagerness even more evident now, eyes bright with anticipation.

You bit your lip nervously, feeling a flutter of nerves before you perked up in your seat a little. “Me.” Your voice came out stronger than you expected, but the truth felt freeing.

As you spoke, Danny’s hand rested on your thigh, his thumb gently rubbing smooth circles over the fabric of your jeans. The subtle, comforting motion grounded you, and you felt him give your thigh a small squeeze as if in recognition of how thankful he was that you did make that first move. 

“Ha ha! Pay up, son of a bitch,” Josh crowed, swivelling in his seat to look at Jake, his face lit up with victory. Jake let out a laugh, but it was tinged with defeat. He lifted his hips slightly to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket, his expression exaggeratedly pained as he sifted through the bills before reluctantly handing over one hundred and fifty dollars to both Josh and Sam.

“I’m just happy it finally happened,” Jake said, shaking his head as he stuffed his wallet back into his pocket. “Danny’s talked our ears off enough about you.” His words were spoken with affection, and you felt the warmth of his teasing radiate through the group.

“Or is this just gonna make it worse?” Sam added, and the others groaned in unison, making it clear that Danny’s affection for you was something they’d all heard about more times than they could count.

You laughed along with them, a lightness settling over you, feeling utterly flattered. Knowing that Danny had been just as in love with you all this time, just as much as you had been with him, made you feel warm and bubbly inside.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Danny said, standing up from the booth with a mock groan. “You want anything from the bar, beautiful?” he asked, turning to you with a soft smile. 

There was a collective ‘ooh’ at the casual use of the pet name and you bit your lip to hold back your laugh. 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you said with a smile. Danny leaned back in to press a kiss to your cheek before leaving to get you drinks from the bar. You sighed, leaning back in your chair and smiling lightly at what had happened. You weren't sure what had you doubting their reactions so much. You knew them, and they loved you and Danny both. Just as Danny had said, they were completely expecting it, even surprising you with the ridiculous bets they had made. 

At one point in the night, Sam and Josh caught Danny giving you a rather chaste kiss as you waited for Josh to play his round of pool.

“Eugh! It’s like seeing your parents kiss,” Sam complained, raising his hands to try and block the sight. You both laughed, knowing that his jokes were all in good humour.

“Yeah, get a room!” Josh yelled drunkenly, waving his arms around dramatically.

The rest of the evening went by smoothly, all of you feeling a slight buzz from drinking, apart from Danny who had sworn off any more after his second drink as he was driving you both home.

As he expected, Jake, Josh and Sam had delved into stories and recollections of Danny's pining. Their words made you blush significantly, but nowhere near as much as Danny.

He would groan in embarrassment, begging them to stop, yet he truly wanted them to keep going, knowing that you’d feel more confident in the fact that Danny wanted you. 

Sam and Jake became familiar with some of the girls who had been invited for Danny's sake, and you watched in amusement as they tried to charm them drunkenly. The rest of them branched off to the rest of the party, thankfully, leaving Danny and you alone completely to be at ease. 

When the night came to an end, and you found yourself so exhausted that you felt like you could sleep on the bartop, Danny took it upon himself to call it a night. You bidded your goodbyes and a happy birthday to Sam, and wandered out of the bar to Danny's parked car. His forearm was offered to you at his side, and you slinked your arm over him, hugging your body as close to him as you could as you walked. 

“Thank you for tonight, Danny,” you said, your words a mere whisper, but otherwise loud in the silence of the night. 

“Thank you. How do you feel about everything?” he asked, hoping your nerves were diminished after the night's events. 

You smiled up at him lazily, “So good, I don't know what I was so worried about. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

𓅪

The next day was spent at home. Danny and you meandered around aimlessly, doing your usual Sunday shores, and revelling in the domesticity that was the love you harboured for one another.

Whether it be the gentle touch of his fingers on your waist when he passed you in the hallway, or the fleeting kisses he left on your skin before you moved past, you felt like you were melting in his love. 

Danny insisted on cooking you your favourite meal for dinner, spanish fideuà. It was something you didn't have often, but it reminded you of home, and Danny was more than eager to do whatever it took to make you smile. 

He was absolutely shameless in his love for you now, despite you showing him in any and all ways how happy you were, he always went one step above, offering you help, complimenting you and anything else that came to his mind to float you higher and higher in the throws of his love. 

“Danny, this is delicious,” you hummed, as you got the first taste of the seafood dish he had spent the last few hours preparing. 

His eyes lit up at your words, “Really? I know it's nowhere near as good as your moms, but–”

“It’s amazing Danny, thank you,” you interrupted, unable to hear him doubt himself for another moment. You shuffled closer to him from your spot on the floor. You both regularly ate on the floor from the coffee table, being a casual and comfortable position that let you watch a movie while you ate. 

You snuggled into his side, letting your body press into his and absorb most of his warmth, and his heart fluttered at the action. 

“Alright, what movie are we gonna watch tonight?” you asked through a full mouth, setting your fork down on your bowl and reaching over Danny for the remote on the other side of the coffee table. Your phone buzzed too, so you picked it up with the remote and brought them both to your lap. 

“Hmmm,” he hummed through his own full mouth, “I’m feeling like a classic tonight, maybe… The Notebook?”

You looked up at him with a smile, to see him smirking down at you, “Now, are you just saying that cause you know it’s my favourite?”

He looked up in faux thought, “Maybe… or maybe I’m just happy to watch anything, as long as it’s with you.”

You blushed and looked down, pursing your lips as you bit back a smile. He laughed at your response, and pulled you in impossibly closer by his arm. 

Your phone buzzed again in your lap, and you reluctantly reached down to pick it up. You had three new messages from an unknown number. Frowning in confusion, you unlocked your phone and read the messages. 

Your heart sunk when you read them. Despite blocking Otis after telling him to leave you alone, he was absolutely relentless. 

The first message was just your name, alone in its own message bubble, and it made your stomach twist. The next message read, ‘You can’t just cut me out. You haven't even heard me out yet, I never meant to hurt you.’ You didn’t even let yourself read the last, clicking your phone off and shuffling uncomfortably as you sat up straight, pulling yourself away from Danny.

Danny called your name, but his voice sounded distant through the fog of panic that surrounded you. “Baby? Hey, what’s wrong?” he moved closer to you again, resting his hand softly on your back. You looked up at him and were welcomed by his soft expression of concern. You wordlessly handed him your phone to read himself. 

He took the phone carefully, and as he read the messages his expression morphed into one unreadable. Angry, concerned, or annoyed? You weren't sure. 

“Is this.. This is Otis right? I thought you blocked him.”

“I did, this is from an unknown number. I don't know, he must be using a friend's phone or something,” you mumbled weakly, feeling yourself shrink into yourself. 

Danny shook his head, breathing a frustrated breath from his nose, “Look, you don't owe him anything. We’ll just block this one too, and he’ll get the hint.” He took your hand and squeezed tightly. 

“I don’t know… he’s stubborn,” you explained. 

“I can talk to him then,” Danny suggested. 

You quickly turned to him, shaking your head quickly, “No, no don’t do that. It’ll only make things worse. I don't want to get you involved.” He looked at you with a deep frown on his face. “It’s fine, I’ll just tell him to leave me alone again,” you assured, though your tone sounded anything but.

Your stomach began to boil with anger rather than fear. How dare he interrupt you during your quiet movie night of dinner with Danny. How dare he think he had the right to speak with you after the way you had ended things. 

With a sigh, you threw your phone to the other side of the coffee table and returned to your nook by Danny's body. He held you tightly, protectively, and it almost made you forget the messages existed at all. He lifted the remote and put on The Notebook, as he tried his hardest to get your mind off of Otis, tracing patterns into your skin by your hip with the blunt tip of his finger. You sighed as you sank deeper into him. 

About halfway through the movie, once you had practically forgotten about everything apart from the characters on the screen and Danny's warmth beside you, there was a firm knock on the front door. You jumped, startled from the noise as you looked up at Danny questioningly.

With furrowed brows, he moved to get up, but you placed a hand on his chest, not wanting to worry him anymore after the busy hours he had spent in the kitchen for you. 

“It’s alright, I got it,” you said, giving him a quick peck before climbing over him and walking to the front door, the only sound in the silence of the apartment being your bare feet padding against the floorboards. 

Once you approached the door, you raised to your tiptoes to peer through the peephole, knowing better than to open the door to an unknown. Your heart sank when you saw Otis. 

You sighed frustratedly and swung the door open. “What do you want?” you asked sternly, your tone coming across just as harsh as you intended. 

His eyes shot to yours as he realised that you actually opened the door and said your name pleadingly, taking a step towards you. “I– we need to talk,” he pleaded, reaching a hand out to you. 

You recoiled from his touch, “We don’t have anything to talk about. We aren’t together anymore, don’t come back,” you responded, stepping back and out of the way of the door as you swung it shut. Otis desperately launched forward and caught it before it closed completely. 

Danny, who had been listening from the couch, stood. He had wanted to give you space to fight your own battles, but as soon as he saw Otis forcing the door open against your wishes, he knew that he needed to intervene.

“Let go,” you ordered, trying to pry him away from the door. 

“Baby, you haven’t heard me out, please. It was a mistake and…” Otis trailed off, mouth agape as he searched for the words. His attention was caught when Danny's figure approached from behind you. You turned to look at him, eyes blown in frustration and conflict. “Oh,” Otis said, eyes narrowing and clearly taken aback. There was a moment of silence where he tried to articulate his next words, his face morphing from apologetic to distaste in a mere second. “So I didn’t actually do anything wrong? You just needed an excuse to fuck your roomate?” he spat. 

Danny stepped forward, took your arm in his hand and pushed you behind him gently. 

“Excuse me?” he seethed. You couldn't see his expression from behind him, yet you could only imagine the anger in his eyes. Danny was significantly taller than Otis, and loomed from what you could guess was about eight inches above him. 

Otis, clearly caught off guard by the confrontation, fell back to insults to save his pride. “Don't worry man, you can have your slut,” he taunted and you flinched at the vulgarity of his words. Otis had never spoken to you like that.

Danny stepped forward, but you quickly grabbed his wrist. He looked back and down at you, the look on his face frightening, but softening slightly when he saw you, shaking your head. 

Danny tuned back to Otis, “You better watch your fucking mouth. Now go, I don’t want to see you back here–”

“Or what?” Otis challenged, taking a step closer to Danny threateningly. You felt completely helpless, guilty that Danny was fighting your battles for you, but angry at Otis's awfulness. 

You tried to diffuse the situation, frustration and aggression hanging heavily in the air, “Both of you, please can we jus–”

“I’m serious. Leave,” Danny seethed, his shoulders squaring as he stepped to the side, blocking your body from Otis completely. By this point, all you could see with the contracting muscles in Danny's back from beneath his shirt as he breathed deeply. You tried your best to peer over his shoulder to prevent whatever mess was to unfold, but it was to no avail.

“Fine,” you heard Otis say, “But you’ll get tired of her, just like I did. Call me if you’ve got any questions on how to get her to shut the fuck up,” he spat with a snicker. 

In an instant, Danny lunged forward, grabbing Otis by the collar and slamming him against the wall beside your door. Otis’s head struck the surface with a dull thud, shock flashing across his face as he tried to regain his bearings.

The heels of your palms flew to your temples as you gasped, “Oh shit.”

“I told you to watch your fuckin’ mouth,” Danny shoved him further into the wall, teeth bared as anger fumed off of his skin like steam. Otis’s cocky demeanour was long gone, and now stood the image of an innocent and afraid victim. 

Despite the chaos of the moment, you couldn’t help but be drawn to Danny. His muscles were taut as he held Otis firmly against the wall, and his eyes burned with fierce intensity. The way he stood up for you during your most difficult moments ignited a fire within you, making it almost impossible to ignore the rush of desire that surged at the sight of him.

“I’m– fuck I– I’m sorry, okay?!” Otis sputtered out, trying to rip Danny's hands off him. 

“Danny,” you called worriedly, knowing that if he didnt let go now, he was going to have an assault charge on his hands. He didn't look your way, but his shoulders relaxed at the sound of your voice, and he reluctantly let go, watching as Otis’s body sagged against the wall. 

Otis ran an antsy hand through his hair, “You’re fucking crazy man,” he then turned and looked at you, a crazed frustration in his eye, “Not worth the fuckin’ trouble anyways,” he muttered, before turning and storming down the hallway. Danny's head lifted at his words but you reached for him before he could make any irrational decisions, grabbing his arm, dragging him inside and slamming the door shut behind him. 

You stood by the door, watching as Danny ran his hands through his hair, pacing on the spot with his eyes trained on the ground. He breathed deeply, trying his hardest to regulate his temper before he addressed you. Just as you were about to reach for him, take his hand in yours and tell him that everything would be okay, he moved towards you, eyes searching yours desperately for some kind of refuge.

“Baby, I– I’m so sorry, I got carried away, I just– he said all those things and…” Danny rushed, his hands searching your own, gripping tightly as if your strength would keep him from falling off the face of the earth. His head dropped down in shame, “I’m so sorry, honey. Please forgi–”

Unable to hear him apologise any longer, you crashed your lips against his. He was still for a moment, processing your movements in silent shock, until, like a switch, he moved his lips against your own hungrily. You separated your hands, letting your fingers roam upwards and grip his hair and jaw, as his own hands fell to your waist, running his palms up and down your curves and squeezing at the hip. The kiss became needy and rushed, and you let out a quiet moan when Danny's tongue slipped into your mouth. You gravitated backwards, Danny leading you until your back hit the wall. 

Danny moved forward, the warmth of his body pressing against your own. Unknowing or not, his knee slotted between your legs, and your thoughts went hazy as you ground your hips against it. Danny groaned at the feeling, revelling in the knowledge that you were enjoying him as much as he was you. 

His hot breath came out in huffs through his nose, drifting over your skin as his mouth explored yours desperately. Reluctantly, he pulled away, face flushed and panting heavily as his eyes searched yours. 

“So, you aren’t mad?” he asked. You looked up at him through your lashes, an undeniable need flowing through your body. You took his hand in yours and shook your head earnestly, slipping away from the wall and walking him away from the livingroom and towards the hallway to your bedrooms. 

Danny's brain short circuited when he realised what you were doing– where you were taking him. Nevertheless, he followed eagerly on your heels, blood rushing from his head and straight to his crotch as he tried to keep himself sane.

You walked into his dark bedroom, and Danny switched the light on by the door as he followed you to the bed. He clenched his jaw, trying his hardest to control himself and not explode from the anticipation. You turned around and kissed him again, this time shying slightly from the control. You were undoubtedly nervous, no matter how badly you wanted this, you couldn't shake the anxiety of doing something wrong from your head. 

Always in tune with everything that was you, Danny took the lead, edging you closer and closer to the bed until the back of your knees made contact with the mattress. Dannys lips stayed connected to yours as you lowered yourself down, leading you further onto the bed, your hearts beating in rapid synchronicity. 

Moments of pause to catch your breaths were quickly ended as you both searched for one another, hands wandering across your bodies while you brought forward the feelings that had always been there. 

Soon, your back was flat on the bed, and Danny hovered over you, having crawled his way up on top in your crazed hypnosis. You shivered when the hand resting on your waist travelled up your ribs, his knuckles brushing the underside of your breast from beneath your tank top. 

Danny broke from your lips and looked up at you, “Is this okay?” he asked, his knuckles dragging back and forth. He was a sight to see, lips plump and swollen, eyes blown out and cheeks red hot. 

“Yes,” you whispered breathlessly with a frantic nod. You threaded one hand back into his curly hair to bring him back down to your lips, while the other rested on his side. At your permission, Danny's large hand cupped your right breast, and squeezed just tight enough that the soft skin morphed under his imprint. You moaned at the sensation, but before you had time to feel embarrassed, Danny groaned back, grinding his hips into yours. 

Your mind went haywire as you felt the bulge pressing against you through his sweatpants, mixed with the feeling of him fondling your breasts. 

Parting from you again, you realised Danny was panting now. He swallowed nervously, his nose brushing against yours as his hand reached for the strap of your tank top, “Can I take this off?” he asked, eyes boring into your own with such intensity.

“Please,” you responded pathetically. Your core had begun to ache, his groin only brushing against yours briefly now, and your skin was ablaze with the need of his touch. Danny smiled at your words, eyes drifting back down your top as his fingers nimbly took the hem of the top and slid it upward. 

You sat up as he slipped it off your body, raising your arms to let him fully remove it. He discarded it with a toss somewhere behind him, and when his eyes returned to you, they were blown out and wide. He had seen your breasts already, but not like this. This was different, just as tender, but with lust heavy in the air. 

Danny's lips found yours again as his hand reached up to cup your breast again, this time completely bare. The heat of his palm pressed into your nipple as he squeezed, your flesh pooling around his fingers. His sloppy kisses began to change pace, drifting from your mouth to your jaw. Down past your jaw to the tender skin of your neck. 

The sensations were completely overwhelming, yet not nearly enough. The pad of his thumb flicked over your nipple, before pinching it against his pointer finger while he sucked into the tender spot beneath your ear. You breathed loudly, the hint of a moan breaking free at the feeling. 

Once Danny felt satisfied with his work on your neck, his lips continued their assault downward, until they too met the crest of your breasts. Taking one in his mouth, he played with the bud of the other while he licked and sucked at the flesh, making you writhe beneath him, hips grinding upward for relief. 

“Danny,” you whispered breathlessly, “Please.” 

He looked up at you from his place on your chest. “Are you– are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to after what just happened. I need you to be sure.”

Your heart ached at his kind words and consideration, but your core ached more, “I promise, I’m sure.” You nodded frantically, reaching down to stroke his cheek, and he leaned into your touch.

Slowly, he dipped his head back to your chest, and he pressed a firm kiss to your sternum. The wet warmth of his lips travelled downward, the kisses turning sloppier the further he moved. Once his lips passed your belly button and were interrupted by the hem of your knitted lounge pants, his fingers traced the hemline as he looked back up at you again, asking for your silent permission with his needy eyes. 

You nodded again, eagerly lifting your hips to help him as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and pulled them down your legs and over your feet, discarding them somewhere on the floor near your top. 

You tensed as his lips continued their descent, “Wait– what are you doing?” you asked, closing your legs and bending your knees slightly to give yourself space. Danny pulled away immediately, a soft hand coming down your thigh to stroke the skin gently. 

His brows furrowed, “What do you mean?” You only stared at him, eyes wide and biting your lip. Nobody had even gone down on you before. Your friends and sometimes commented on it, making you feel slightly left out from the experience, but no partner you’d ever been with had gone there– had ever wanted to go there. 

When Danny realised you weren't going to say anything, he stroked his hand down your thigh to your bent knee, “I want to touch you and… taste you, if you’ll let me.”

Your cheeks flamed at his words, and you became suddenly aware of the warm wetness that had accumulated below. 

“I… nobody’s ever done that to me before,” you explained, picking at the edges of your nails nervously, sitting up slightly. 

Danny frowned deeply, “What do you– nobody’s ever gone down on you before?” he asked incredulously. Your face flushed, all confidence completely gone as you regretted ever going this far with Danny at all. He probably thought you were a complete prude. 

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed,” he ordered, “It’s just me.” He reached a hand up to cup your face, his body shifting slightly to bring himself closer to you and further from your lower half. “We don’t have to if you don't want to. But, I want to show you what it feels like, if you’d like that?”

Your stomach flipped, and you struggled to hold the burning eye contact Danny was staring at you with. “Okay.”

“Okay? You wanna try it?” he asked, hands rubbing against your bare sides comfortingly. 

You nodded your head, “Yes.”

Danny smiled at you softly and slid his body back down so that his face was hovering over your public bone. “Okay, just tell me if you want me to stop.”

With that, he looked back at your centre, eyes zeroing in on the wet patch that had soaked through your panites by your entrance. His mouth parted and he breathed deeply at the sight, eyes only catching yours for another moment before he tenderly took the sides of your underwear and tugged them downward. 

You lifted your hips for him to take them off, and as he slid them down your legs, you immediately regretted not shaving that morning. You weren't particularly ‘hairy’, having shaved one or two days ago, but there was a little stubble, and you worried Danny was going to change his mind at the sight of it. Your past partners wouldn't have gotten within an inch near your body if you weren't freshly shaved, claiming that it ‘wasn’t very sexy’. But Danny was about to put his mouth on it, and the idea scared you to bits. 

Danny took no notice though, his own mind struggling to keep up with the reality of what was happening. If he could go back in time and tell himself at age fifteen what he was about to do, he was sure he would’ve had a stroke. 

Eyes catching yours briefly, his hand reached for your core, the tip of his middle finger sliding through the slick by your entrance and spreading it up through your folds to your clit. You breathed shakily at the feeling, pleasure coursing through you at the light touch. 

“So wet, sweet girl,” he mumbled, mostly to himself as he watched in awe as he coated you in your own arousal. His thumb joined soon after, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the bud of your clit, and you clenched your stomach at the feeling, fighting the urge to buck your hips and arch your back. Your eyes squeezed shut as he stroked lazily over the sensitive spot, his other fingers probing gently at your entrance. 

His thumb left momentarily, and just as you were about to open your eyes to see where it had gone, an unfamiliar warmth enveloped you, pulling a moan from your chest. Your eyes shot open to see Danny's mouth on you, lips wrapped around your centre, eyes shut in gentle enjoyment. You felt his warm, wet tongue reach out and flick against your clit and you cried out, the sound making him smile against you. He continued relentlessly, revelling in the way you writhed beneath him in the throes of pleasure. One of his hands reached up to grab your breast, squeezing the flesh tightly and drawing another breathless moan from you.

“Feel okay?” he asked, pulling away slightly, the breath of his words ghosting over your wetness. 

“Ye– yes. So good,” you panted, struggling to maintain your composure. The cocky grin on his face only turned you on more, and when he brought his mouth back to you, mouth sucking on your clit tightly, you bucked your hips upward with a cry. Your hands flew to his hair, fingers threading through the curly locks. Through the haze of pleasure, you were briefly aware of his fingertips outlining your entrance. He broke away from you again, and you almost whined at the lack of contact. 

“Can I?” he asked, his middle finger pressing lighting into you. You bit your lips and nodded frantically. He smiled at your eagerness, bringing his lips down to you again and working a steady rhythm with his tongue. His middle finger slowly slipped inside you, and you groaned at the feeling mixed with his tongue against your most sensitive part. 

Slowly, he curled the same finger upward, pressing against your walls expertly, and you threw your head back in pleasure. 

“Ohh fuck,” you moaned, blind in the ecstacy of the motions. He continued with the movements, and your knees bent up around his head as you fought back the urge to crush him with your thighs. “Please, I need more,” you begged, and Danny slipped another finger inside you, his thick fingers stretching you lightly.

You moaned as he began to set a constant pace, his fingers pressing into your g-spot with every curl and his tongue flicking over your clit. Your hands tightened their grasp on his hair, tugging at the roots as you revelled in the pleasure.

He soon became relentless, starting off slow and gentle and building up a harsh and unapologetic pace against you. It didn't take you long to feel the tension build in your lower belly, and your thighs pressed into the sides of his head as it approached. 

Your stomach tightened, and your walls squeezed against his fingers. 

“Shit, Danny– Danny I’m gonna cum,” you cried out, giving him warning to move away, fearing finishing against his mouth would put him off.

Despite your fears, Danny grunted hungrily, the low sound vibrating against you and bringing you further to the edge. He pushed his body further into yours, suffocating himself in everything that was you. He took your nipple between his fingers and squeezed tightly as his fingers and tongue continued the steady pace against you. 

Eyes rolling back, your back arched off the bed as euphoria crashed over your body like a tidal wave. Your thighs locked against his head, keeping him in place as you ground your hips against his face, moaning loudly through your orgasm. Your fingers tugged at his hair, pressing him closer into you as all muscles in your body tensed, letting the magical feeling slip through your veins. 

Danny watched from beneath you, eyes trained on your face as you threw it back in pleasure. 

He held you through it, humming against you and jerking his fingers inside you despite the way your walls puslated and squeezed against him as you fell off the crest of the orgasm. 

Slowly, as not to overstimulate you, he eased his movements, wanting to draw out the orgasm for as long as he could, yet still keep the feeling as enjoyable for you, being especially aware that it was your first time. As the way you pulsed around him began to slow, he did too– his tongue merely dragging over your clit as you shuddered and his fingers only pressing lightly against the pillowy flesh of your g-spot. 

As your hands relaxed against his hair and your legs released him from their relentless grip, Danny took his mouth off you, and carefully slid his fingers out, leaving you feeling awfully empty. 

Eyes still shut, and head still limp against the mattress, you relied on your senses as you felt Danny crawl up your body. His hands took your jaw gently, and you fluttered your eyes open at the feeling, seeing him hovering just above you. Wetness glistened off his chin to his nose, and you whimpered pathetically at the sight of him wiping it off with the black of his hand. You were panting heavily still, chest rising and falling dramatically beneath him as you tried to calm yourself down. 

He leaned down and pressed a lingering, simple kiss to your lips. “How was that?”

You smiled lazily at him and hummed in approval, “So good, Danny.” You reached up and brought him into another kiss, deepening it as you traced your tongue along his lips. He opened his mouth to let you in, and hummed at your eagerness. Swiftly, you grabbed his shoulders and flipped him into the bed, keeping your lips still connected so that you were straddling his waist. 

He made a sound of surprise at your movements, but you didn't stop kissing him. You ground your hips against his, feeling the bulge from beneath his sweatpants pressing into you, and you both groaned at the feeling.

Slowly, you reached your hand under his shirt, and stroked your fingers over the skin of his chest. He shivered under your touch, his own hands reaching down to steady your hips as you ground against him. You took the hem of his shirt, and he instantly sat, pushing you up with him as he pulled the shirt off his body quickly, his muscles contracting in the movement. 

You reattached your lips to his as soon as you could, desire slapping you in the face as if you hadn’t already had an orgasm. Desperately, you reached your hand down to his sweatpants, feeling for him through the fabric. 

He moaned into your mouth when you held him, slowly grinding him into the heel of your plan as you began to rub him up and down. He pulled away from the kiss, unable to hold back the noises that escaped him as you touched him. He whispered your name in a moan, and at the encouraging noises, you let go of his bulge and slipped your hand under his sweatpants, watching his face intently to ensure you weren’t crossing any boundaries. 

He threw his head back when you touched him bare, taking a firm hold of his dick in your hand and stroking it lazily. He was huge, just as you’d seen days earlier while you showered with one another, but now that you held him, you understood his true size. You traced your thumb up the underside of his dick, until you reached the tip, which felt damp and swollen from strain and arousal. 

He moaned and bucked at the sensitivity, biting his lip painfully as he watched you watch him. You let yourself take some time to feel him, running your thumb over the ridge of his head, and around its circumference, before drifting your hand back down his shaft to the base. You watched carefully for his reactions, taking note of the particular sensitivity he felt when you slid his head between your pointer and middle fingers. 

Beads of precum had begun to trickle out of him, providing a slight amount of lubricant over the skin you rubbed against. But it wasn’t quite enough. 

Breaking your eye-contact, you looked down to where you held him, his pink tip resting against his abdomen and peeking out of the hem of his sweatpants while you stroked at the base of his cock. Slowly, you slipped down his body, smoothing your hands over his soft skin as you travelled down, and you watched in amusement as his eyes blew out widely. 

You took the hemline between your fingers and began pulling them down, but Danny's hand quickly rested on top of your own, halting your movements. 

“You don’t have to– just because I did for you. This isn’t tit for tat,” he assured, cradling your face and stroking the apple of your cheek. 

You looked up at him through your lashes, “I want to, promise.” You reached under and gave him a long, slow stroke again and he fought to keep his eyes open at the feeling. You let go and reached for his sweatpants again, but he kept his hips still, looking conflicted and slightly unsure as he peered down at you. 

“Oh,” you faltered, “Unless you don’t want me to.” You reprimanded yourself for not asking him sooner, pulling away to sit upright and resting on his thighs. 

“No, no, I want you to. Of course I do. I just– stop that,” he reached up to take your thumb away from your mouth as you began to anxiously bite the skin around it. You put both hands in your lap with a huff. “It just might be… a bit hard for you to do. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Though it sounded cocky, Danny was admittedly worried that you would push yourself for his own pleasure, and he knew that there was no way you could fit all of him in your mouth. He watched you carefully, taking note of the way you looked back down at him, hard and erect against his abdomen, before you made eye contact with him again. 

“Please, I want to try,” you asked, and he nodded without any further hesitation, giving you the go ahead. This time, he lifted his hips when you tugged at his sweatpants, and he breathed out a moan when you took him in your hand again. 

He watched you through hooded eyelids as, while maintaining eye contact, you leaned down to his cock and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip, a thin string of pre cum connecting to you for a moment as you pulled away. If you didn’t know otherwise, you'd think Danny was in pain by his expression, face taught with euphoria. 

You stuck out your tongue for him to see, and brought it to the bottom of his cock before slowly dragging up to the tip. He whimpered when you then took the tip into your mouth, letting your lips squeeze gently against him while your tongue rubbed against his frenulum. 

You knew your limits, and you knew you couldn't take all of him at once, not without gagging like an idiot, and you thought that activity would be best saved for another time. So instead, you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, twisting slightly as you pumped him up and down. In synchronicity, you began to bob your head on his dick, bringing the head as deep into your mouth as you could reach before pulling back up again. 

Unable to control himself, his hands flew your head, gathering your hair away from your face into a makeshift ponytail. He watched you intently, brows furrowed in concentration and ecstasy, and he began to fear that the pleasure he was feeling already would have him finishing in the first few minutes. 

“Oh my– fuck,” he whimpered when you picked up your pace a little, getting more comfortable with the feeling of him in your mouth. You hummed in amusement as you felt him twitch against your tongue, his abdominal muscles spasming and hips shaking as not to thrust up into you, all while the pleasure completely overtook him. Danny didn’t care about being too loud, and his moans filled the silence of the room, eliciting a new wave of arousal to your core. 

Subtly, while keeping your movements steady and mouth still attached to him, you repositioned your lower half, throwing on knee over his leg so that you were straddling his left thigh. You sighed as you ground down against it, his bare skin and thick, coarse hair rubbing against you a feeling like no other. 

Danny popped his eyes open at the feeling of your wet warmth on his leg, and a deep groan fell from his mouth when he saw you rocking your hips back and forth against him, cock still in your mouth. 

“Ba– baby,” Danny stuttered, hips rocking gently against you in sync to meet you. 

“Hmm?” you hummed against him. 

“Ah– fuck. I need to have you… and if you– fuck, if you keep this up I'm gonna– shit baby, I'm gonna cum.” 

Reluctantly, you pulled your mouth away from him, not wanting the night to be over yet, and though Danny had been chasing the feeling of release, you could tell he wanted you to stop too. 

Without warning, Danny grabbed your underarms and pulled you up his body, making you squeal. Once you were chest to chest, he wiped away the spit that had spread across your lips and coated your chin, before pulling you in for a hungry kiss.

He flipped you over quickly, your back making contact with the warm sheets beneath you, and you were briefly aware that it had been dampened with his sweat. 

Danny kissed you again, but broke away soon this time, leaning over to reach for his nightstand. He pulled open the drawer and blindly shuffled around until he grabbed a box and pulled it out. He was still kneeled either side of your body, cock hanging in the air between the two of you as he took the box and sifted through with his fingers for a condom. 

“Wait, Danny,” you said, hand coming to meet him where he held the condom. He froze immediately, fearing that he may be moving too far, too fast. 

“What's wrong?” he asked, abandoning the box of condoms by his bedside table again, giving you his complete, undivided attention. 

“I’m uh… I’m on the pill, and I’m clean. I wanna feel you… without the condom,” you admitted, cheeks flushing red as you spoke. 

He blinked, brain clearly running a mile a minute, “Oh– Yeah, I– I’m clean too. Does that mean I can…?” he stammered, trailing off in caution. 

You nodded, “You can finish inside.” 

Danny's eyes nearly rolled back at the sound of your voice uttering those words, and he swallowed thickly, licking his lips before meeting your lips again. 

“I love you,” he whispered against your mouth. 

“I love you too.” You raised your hips slightly, making his tip brush against your lower belly, and he chuckled. 

“So needy,” he teased, learning down further on his knees and taking himself in his hand, pleasuring himself momentarily with a few languid strokes. 

Meeting your eyes again, he took your hip into his other hand, and brought his cock to your centre. He dragged his sensitive tip through your wetness, spreading it from your entrance to your clit, the stimulating feeling eliciting from you a moan. 

He repeated the motion a few more times, helping you relax at the pleasurable feeling against you, while coating you both with your own lubricant. When he returned to the entrance this time, he pressed the tip in lightly, eyes jumping back to your face to make sure you were okay. 

When he saw you were watching intently with your jaw hung slightly agape, he continued, pushing into you only slightly more. The stretch was overwhelming, but in the best way possible, and you spread your legs wider to give him space. He took his hand off your hip momentarily to use his fingers to spread you further, his cock slipping into you with much more ease. 

You jumped with a hiss when the stretch was almost painful, a stinging sensation sparking inside you.

He froze immediately. “You okay?”

You nodded, “Yep, just…” you wiggled your hips, letting yourself get used to the sheer size of him before you continued, “Keep moving, I’m okay.” 

With a quiet ‘okay’, he continued his push forward, watching your expression intently as he slipped further and further into you until he was finally completely bottomed out, his abdomen flush against your own. He sighed loudly at the sensation, leaning forward on his hands so that his head was hovering above your own. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. So warm,” he groaned. 

The sensation was indescribable. You felt so incredibly full, the feeling of him inside you like nothing you had experienced with anyone before. Though, you soon became too comfortable with the feeling, and were desperate for friction.

You began to slowly grind your hips, hoping he would get the hint to start moving, but his hand shot to the soft flesh of your hip, holding tightly to stop you from moving. 

“Just… give me a minute, please. You’re so fucking tight,” he breathed, eyes rolling back with his mouth hung open widely. 

You tried your hardest to relax for him, but the need for movement was overwhelming. You reached your hand down between your bodies and pressed your fingers against your clit, rubbing round in slow circles to give yourself some relief. Danny's eyes followed your hand and he huffed, neck straining as he saw what you were doing. 

Very slowly, and with a deep, contented sigh, Danny pulled back, and you bit back a moan at the feeling of him sliding from you, until just the tip was left. In a swift movement, he pushed back in, the two of you moaning at the feeling together. 

He repeated those movements a few more times, until he was used to the feeling, letting his movements gain more speed against you. You abandoned your clit when he began to speed things up, the feeling more than enough to throw you into the abyss of pleasure. 

“Oh Danny, that feels–” you moaned, latching your hand under his arm to grip his back, nails digging into his skin lightly. 

“How does it feel, pretty girl? Hm? Tell me,” he panted, hips now meeting yours quickly, the sound of your bodies slapping wetly mixing with your loud moans and pants. 

“Feels s’ good, Danny. I– Ah!” He picked up the speed again, and you got dizzy at the feeling of his cock slamming into your g-spot relentlessly. With one arm keeping himself steady against his mattress beside your head, Danny reached his other hand to your hip, fingers pressing into the muscle firmly as he kept you steady, his thrusts now hitting you impossibly deeper than before. 

Your moans sounded borderline pornographic, and when Danny leant down to attach his mouth to your nipple, you all but screamed. The familiar feeling of release crept up on you, and despite your efforts to push it away, it gripped you tightly, squeezing your core and making you shudder. 

“Oh fuck, I can feel you, Baby,” he heaved, abandoning your tit and pressing his forehead to yours, “Squeesing me so tight. You gonna cum again for me?” 

“Yes!” you squeaked out, and he chuckled at the sound. “Danny… Oh Jesus– fuck!” you exclaimed, succumbing to the overwhelming power of your orgasm. Your legs spasmed, flying up to lock around his behind, keeping him close as he fucked you through the orgasm. 

Both of your arms threw around his back, one of them wrapping up to hold the back of his neck, nails digging in harshly as you fought to keep conscious through the orgasm. 

“That's it, that’s– Oh God, there you go,” he cooed, talking you through the feeling as he slowed his thrusts in time with the rhythm of your fluttering walls. He came to a slow stop inside you, letting you come down from your high. 

You were a sight to see, Danny thought. Hair sprawled out around your head like some kind of religious halo, although nothing about these past few moments had been even slightly faithful. A stark flush had settled on your cheeks, spreading down your neck to your chest, and Danny couldn't help but compare them to the wet marks he had left behind with his mouth. A sheer layer of sweat had sunk into your hairline, and if possible, Danny knew he would have grown harder at the sight if it were possible. 

He stroked away some of the wet hairs that stuck to your temples, and you watched him intently as he did. 

“Roll over,” you told him, and you giggled at the surprised expression she bore. 

“Okay, bossy,” he teased, keeping you connected as he gripped your waist tightly, rolling onto his back so that you rested atop him. You leaned down and kissed him, threading your hands into his hair and he kissed you back with just as much passion, licking into your mouth and groaning. 

When you pulled away, you sat up properly, getting a full view of Danny laying below you, body on display and face fucked out. You smiled devilishly at the sight and sighed when you put all of your weight on his lap, ensuring his dick was as deep in you as it could be. 

His hands flew to your thighs, gripping tightly as he watched you. Not exactly knowing what to do with your hands, you placed them on his abdomen to stabilise you while you began to move, grinding your hips in agonisingly slow circles against him. 

The feeling, for you, was magical, and the attention to your clit made your head drop forward, hair falling over your face. 

Danny reached up and brushed the mass of your hair away from your face to look at you. He watched as you moved for a while, hands keeping your hips steady as he helped you roll them back and forth against him. 

Hearing him call your name broke you from your trance. You opened your eyes to look down at him, seeing his expression needy and pained, “Ple– please move,” he begged. You realised how you had been neglecting him, leaving him sitting still inside you while you shamelessly pleasured yourself on the gruff hair over his pubic bone. 

Maintaining eye contact, and your hands steady on his stomach, you rolled your hips forward, arching your back and letting him slip out through your folds, before you slammed back down with conviction. 

You both yelped at the sensation, feeling one another deeper than you had all night. You repeated a few times, slowly pulling away from him, only to drop back onto him with weight and speed, until you got into a groove. You moaned as you slammed onto him, his cock pounding into your g-spot.

He reached his hand up to your face, slipping his thumb into your mouth. You took the digit into your mouth sloppily, unable to focus past the intoxicating way his hips bucked up into you. He slipped his thumb out of your mouth and dipped it below. 

You yelped when you felt it press over your clit, rubbing wet circles into the sensitive bub, and making you double over in pleasure. Fatigue began to grace your movements, and as your hips slowed in exhaustion and laziness, Danny grabbed your ass with one hand, hooking under the thigh slightly for stability. He squeezed tightly so that his fingers dug into the fat, and held your body still above his.

He didn't give you time to complain at the lack of movement, before his hips slammed up into you. He was erratic and relentless, fucking into you so quickly, that all of your thoughts fell apart in your mind. 

You chanted his name like a mantra, and when he began to lift and drop your hips to meet him halfway, your third orgasm of the night began to approach. 

“Fuck! Danny I’m– it’s…” your sentence fell off with a moan. 

He grunted into your ear, “Let go Baby, just feel it.”

Listening to him, you fell forward onto his chest completely, your breasts pressed up against him as he continued his assault. The feeling grew, burning hotter and hotter in your core, until a completely unfamiliar feeling joined it. 

You jerked slightly at the sensation, a new kind of warmth travelling down your body, and rendering you completely limp in the pleasure. 

“Oh my– fuck, Danny, I–” 

He didn't give you any rest, driving you closer and closer to the release of this feeling that had you under its complete control. You moaned aimlessly into his chest, sweat sticking your skin together while you focused on the way his dick slammed into your walls rhythmically. 

Finally, as if you had reached the crest of a mountain, you began your inevitable descent, pleasure coursing through you like a violent shock of electricity. You squeezed tightly around him while he continued to pump into you furiously, and at the feeling of his thumb still caressing your clit, that same new sensation took hold again. 

You were briefly aware of warmth and wetness below, but the feeling shot through you too powerfully for you to notice much else. You wailed through the orgasm, never having felt anything as intense in your whole life, the release feeling like just that– a release. 

“Oh shit,” Danny panted, his breath fanning across your ear as he continued to thrust into you. He flipped you over again, much less gently this time, so that your back was against the sheets and wrapped his body around yours tightly. His arms slipped under your back, letting him rest his head into the crook of your neck as he moaned. His legs hooked into yours, encircling your body like you gave him life, as he continued to thrust endlessly into you. 

Your high began to wear off, though you were still hazy as he came apart on top of you, hugging you tightly. You wrapped your arms around him and raked your nails over his back, trying to keep yourself from squeezing him too hard at the overstimulation. 

It was to no avail though, as even the slightest pulse from inside you was all he needed to completely unravel. Moaning loudly, you felt his hips stutter, grip tightening around your body as he chanted your name. 

“I– I love you,” he cried out. 

“I love you too,” you repeated, holding him tightly through the buildup to his orgasm. He seemed to falter even further at the sound of your words, his movements falling sloppier and moans crying louder.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, muffled by the pillows along with the other profanities he repeated through clenched teeth. You moaned as you felt his hot release spill into you, his cock twitching inside you before it stilled, unmoving in the deepest part he could reach. 

He thrusted slowly only a few more times, his breath shuddering at the after effects of the orgasm, until he went completely still. 

You both lay there for the next few moments in complete silence, save for your desperate attempts to catch your breaths. 

“That was incredible,” he breathed into your neck, planting a soft, lingering kiss to the skin. 

“It was,” you agreed, unable to find the words through the haze that still fogged your mind. You shifted slightly, his dick still tucked into you but softening slightly. 

“Wha– why is there so much…” you trailed off as you felt an unusual amount of wetness coat your legs and the skin on which he had his body pressed against. 

“Hmm?” he questioned lazily. You bent your knee to try and get a closer look, struggling to see past Danny's huge body, but managing to see the clear wetness glinting from your thighs. They were absolutely soaked, and as you craned your neck up to investigate further, the sheets around you were darkened with saturation too. 

“What is this?” you asked, sitting up slightly. Danny pulled his head from your neck reluctantly, slipping his arms from their tight grasp around your back to prop himself up against the mattress. He peered down at where you were both still connected, and smiled at the mess you had left behind. 

“What’s what?” he asked. 

You ran a hand through the slick that dripped off your stomach and onto the bed sheets. It wasn’t thick like cum, or like your arousal, and was almost like water. Danny smiled mischievously, placing his flat palm across his stomach to feel where the liquid coated his skin too. 

He cleared his throat, “You… um, I think you squirted.”

You went red hot, embarrassment settling deep into your stomach, “What?”

He chuckled at your expense, “Don’t be shy, was fucking hot.”

You covered your face with your hands, groaning. “Oh my god, I’ve never done that before,” you admitted.

“Really?” he asked, relaxing his body back against you and using his hands to remove yours from your face. “Wanna see you,” he mumbled. You reluctantly opened your eyes, and saw the smuggest look on his face. 

“What?” you asked, still slightly embarrassed. 

He bit his lip, sticking out his tongue through his teeth, “I made you squirt.” His smile was huge, and you groaned in embarrassment. 

“Ugh, stop,” you groaned, pushing his head away as if it would ease your embarrassment. 

He chuckled. “Did it feel good?” he asked. 

You hesitated for a moment, bringing your hand to his hair and tracing little patterns into his scalp, “Felt really different. But really good, I’ve never felt anything like it before,” you admitted, and you felt his smile against your shoulder. 

“Hmmm, guess we’ll have to try it again then, won’t we?” he asked, bringing his hands to your waist and squeezing teasingly. You yelped at the ticklish feeling, laughing as you ripped his hands off your waist playfully. 

Sighing, Danny reluctantly pushed himself off you, “Alright, let’s get cleaned up. You up for a shower or are you too tired?” he asked. 

“I think I can handle a shower,” you giggled at him for thinking you would be too fucked out to last a five minute shower. Danny smiled, quickly leaning down to kiss your forehead before he pulled back again.

He reached down to where you were both still connected, holding himself gently as he slowly slipped out of you, causing both of you to sigh at the tender feeling. 

He climbed off you, planting his feet onto the floor and taking your hands to help you sit up. You let him drag you from your spot to the edge of the bed, careful to not drip more liquid onto the sheets. 

When he pulled you up to stand, your knees quite literally buckled beneath you. Danny quickly caught you with a ‘woah’, and sat you back onto the bed. 

He raised his brow at you, “Okay Miss ‘I can handle a shower’, you stay here and I’ll go get something to clean you up,” he instructed. You bit your cheek in embarrassment not expecting yourself to be so weak. 

You watched your shaky legs swing off the edge of the bed as Danny stepped out, heading to the bathroom. The room felt warm, quiet, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly everything had fallen into place between you two. Despite having known each other for most of your lives, the shift had been sudden– unexpected but natural. You sat there, taking in the moment and realising that this was what it felt like to be truly cared for.

“Alright sweet thing, can you lean back for me?” he asked once he returned. You nodded and leaned back on your elbows, watching as Danny ran a warm, wet cloth over your legs and stomach, collecting your release from your skin and leaving you feeling clean and comfortable. 

He was far more gentle when he ran the cloth over your sensitive centre, playing close attention to the way his own release dripped out of you slowly. You flinched at the sensitivity when the fabric grazed over your clit, and he muttered a quiet apology, smoothing his warm palm over your thigh. 

Once you were clean, he returned to the bathroom, to wipe himself clean from yours and his release, and as he turned to leave the room, you caught sight of red scratch marks on his shoulders and neck.

When he returned to the bedroom, he smiled as he saw you, struggling to stay awake beside the mess you had made on the bed. 

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” you muttered, leaning forward to reach for his shoulders.

“What?” he asked, craning his neck to try and look at his back.

“You’re all scratched up,” you explained, feeling guilty for causing him any type of pain. But when a toothy grin spread across his face, you recognised an expression of pride on his face.

“Don’t apologise, I love it,” he said, and you stared at him incredulously.

“You’re an idiot,” you joked and he giggled.

His eyes drifted over to the damp sheets beside you and he smiled. “I think we should sleep in your bed tonight. I’ll clean these sheets tomorrow morning,” Danny offered, sitting on the edge of the bed and picking up your foot, kneading the muscles between his strong hands. 

You hummed at the feeling, “Mmm you’re right. But ‘m too tired to move,” you complained dramatically, lifting and dropping a lazy arm for effect. 

He chuckled, letting go of your foot to reach around your body. Standing up, he slid his arms under your upper back and the backs of your knees. You wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively when you understood what he was doing. 

“Wait– Danny…” you started, worrying he wouldn’t be able to bear your weight. He ignored you, knowing exactly what you were about to say as he lifted you from the bed with ease. He leaned down to rub his nose against yours as he walked out of the bedroom. 

“Light,” he said, nodding to the light switch by the side of the door. You reached up and switched it off before bringing your arms back around his neck, fiddling with the hairs as the nape of his neck.

“Wait Danny!” you exclaimed, “I forgot, I need to pee.” 

“Oh shit, yeah,” Danny turned on his heel, taking you to the bathroom, kicking up the toilet lid and carefully sitting you on top of the seat. He casually stepped towards the sink, squirting toothpaste onto his toothbrush and running it under the tap. He put the brush into his mouth and leant against the counter as you sat there in disbelief. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” you asked, not sure if you had the confidence to pee in front of him yet. 

“What? It's not like I wasn’t just inside you,” he joked, shooting you a foamy smile. 

You huffed, but knew he was right. That, and you didn’t actually really care, as he had already seen every part of you by now. Danny got your toothbrush ready too and brought it to you, plopping it into your mouth for you. You were both quiet as you brushed your teeth and did your business, soaking up the experience that you had both shared moments before. 

When you were both done, despite your protests, Danny lifted you back up and carried you down the hallway to your bedroom. He hovered by the door of your bedroom for you to turn on the main light again, and walked you to the bed, throwing you into the plush cushions with a grunt. You giggled as you bounced against the sheets.

Danny switched on the bedside light and quickly turned off the main light, before hopping over to the bed and joining you. Both of you were still very naked, but neither of you minded, swimming in the comfort of the closeness you could have to one another. 

You searched for Danny's body in the dark, reaching for his warmth and wrapping yourself around him once you found him. You shifted closer, pressing your body against his, your head finding its place on his chest, right over his heartbeat. His hand traced gentle patterns along your back, while the other rested securely around your waist, pulling you even closer.

You draped a leg over his, tangling yourself in him as if you were meant to fit together that way. His warmth surrounded you, his steady breaths a calming rhythm that matched your own. With your arm across his chest, you could feel the rise and fall of his breathing, grounding you in the moment. His fingers moved to your hair, stroking through the strands in slow, soothing motions as he sighed into your hair contentedly.  

“Danny?” you asked, breaking the soft silence between you.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He shrugged you closer to him, “Of course, anything.”

You sighed, the question having weighed on you for the past few months, only coming to surface now that you were comfortable enough to ask him. 

“How come you never moved out to get a better place?” The words hung heavy in the air, and you quickly regretted bringing it up. “I mean, Josh, Sam and Jake all bought those huge houses in the last year, and you’re still splitting the rent of some shitty flat with me,” you tried to explain.

Danny was quiet against you for a while– so long in fact, that you began to question if he had fallen asleep. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” he finally spoke, “I want to live with you. I knew you couldn’t afford another place, and you’d never let me pay for you. Why would I want to move out when everything I want is right here?” 

Everything I want. The words drifted over your skin and warmed your soul, melting into crevices of your heart that hadn’t even realised were so cold.

His fingers drifted along the length of your spine, and your heart exploded with love for him. “Do… do you want to move out? Get a new place together?” he added.

You pulled your head back to look at him in the dark, not expecting him to take the conversation that far. “Wha– Danny, I can’t afford anything more than this right now.”

He spoke quickly, “I’ll pay for it, all of it. I have enough, I promise,” he reassured, but your guilt held you back. You couldn't use his money like that.

“I don’t know…”

“Just… think about it. I’m happy to stay here with you, forever, if this is where you are. But I can give you a life better than this. We can have a house big enough for all of those cats you want. And it would have a thermostat that doesn't break every month,” he chuckled, and you laughed with him, melting against his words of affection and serious commitment to you. “It can be big or it can be small, it can be wherever you like. With a big garden for you to grow those pink flowers you like. Anything. I just… want you to be happy. And I want to be with you through it.”

You sighed, letting the love of his words envelope you just as tight as the arms wrapped around your body. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his bare chest, keeping your lips there for a movement before nuzzling your face into the skin. You pocketed the conversation for another day, letting yourself feel him here and now, in the present with you.

“I love you, Danny,” you whispered.

He tucked your head under his chin, “I love you too, sweet girl.”

𓅪

Tag List ~ @danakin-skywalker @spark-my-nature @musicislove3389 @jenniferkiszka @cheersdannyx2

[kookslastbutton]

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | Teaser

✒ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slow-burn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love?

word count: tbd, 835 for this teaser

warnings: oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body insecurities, fear of being blacklisted, emotionally restrained Yoon, mentions of smoking, unstable parental relationships, conservative parents, mentions of therapy, mentions of dating scandal, eventual sexual content, and more specific warnings per chapter.

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: Okay this has taken over six months to release but it's finally beginning and I am super excited to share! 🫣 I am low-key terrible at choosing a proper teaser so hoepfull this works haha. ANYWAY, this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist

“Did you get the files I sent to you?”

The woman nods her head in affirmation while sweeping a few pieces of her long, silky hair behind an ear. To strangers, she appears to look about 24 which is only four years younger than yourself but nonetheless she’s the same age as you. Hei-Ran is her name, meaning “graceful orchid” according to Korean translation.

Hei-ran is one of Hybe’s newest hires and based on her experience, a near perfect fit to being South Korean boy group Tomorrow X Together’s new marketing manager. Until about three months ago, this had been your job.

You never imagined giving up the position after three years of working in the role. But with December right around the corner Hybe had other plans for you.

"Graduated summa cum laude with a bachelors degree in BTech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and a MBA in Marketing from NYU Stern. You worked two years as a brand manager for U.S record label Atlantic Records immediately after graduating, and are now working at BigHit Music as a marketing manager for TXT including liaison with their global marketing team.”

You recall PD Bang’s voice vibrate in the back of your mind from mid-August. You thought you were called into his office to discuss details of TXT’s latest promo, so having your resume read back to you was a sweeping curve ball. Your determination must have far exceeded the heaviness you felt in your chest because before you knew it you, you were shaking hands with your boss in acceptance of your role – the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour.

The tedious knot that’s formed in the nape of your neck reminds you that as surreal as the situation might be, it’s undeniably real.

Months spent drafting a comprehensive marketing proposal for D-Day; often until the wee hours of the night, inevitably takes its toll on even the mightiest of warriors. An entire new team of fifty people, all of who you’ll be in charge of orchestrating for the next eight months, doesn’t provide much to relief either.

You’re excited nevertheless. Working with one of the most respected artists in the music industry is an opportunity you couldn’t let slip by, especially since the album’s rock-inspired genre aligns closely with your own music taste.

“Thank you so much for helping me get settled __,” Hei-ran’s gentle voice returns you to the present. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken these last few months to train me despite the tight deadlines you have.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “It’s no problem at all and if there’s anything you need in the future, feel free to give me a call or stop by my office.”

“On the 16th floor right?”

“1656A. Take a left off the elevator and walk to the end of the first hallway. The door on the right is mine.”

Referring to any room on the 16th floor as your own is something you don’t take lightly. For one the offices are double the size of any other office spaces in the building. Yours in particular has a giant skyscraper window draped with heavy white curtains. Secondly, the floor above is the 17th floor which is exclusive to Hybe artists only.

"How's the proposal coming along, by the way?" Her curiosity is palpable, genuine in its nature. You’ve always appreciated that in an individual.

“It’s done,” you respond. “Only thing left to do is to prepare for our meeting with C-suite executives next Monday. It’s nearly perfect as is, but the presentation could use a bit of refining in terms of organization.”

Hei-ran is silent for a moment longer than usual before her next inquiry, which is undoubtedly the question on both of your minds. “I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to meet him for the first time,” she muses.

You don’t bother asking for clarification on who the “him” is; you’re already well aware that it’s Min Yoongi. The same subject has managed to intrude your own thoughts more and more as the date of meeting him draws closer. It's peculiar honestly, considering you’ve encountered him before. Granted, it was only a small handful of times the hallway, both heading in opposite directions. Min Yoongi typically greeted you with a hoarse 'Good Morning' those instances, along with a curt nod of his head. You would nod back with a brief 'Morning' yourself. Deep down you feel he'd make a quality friend, though it's only a premonition. It’s not like you actually know much about him beyond those small exchanges.

"I'm not sure what to expect, honestly," you admit. "I imagine it'll be similar to previous professional collaborations—composed, focused, and intense. D-Day is poised to become a global sensation for the next year, so it's going to need our full, undivided attention."

Hei-ran gives a knowing nod. “Good luck __,” she wishes you well as you head towards the elevator doors. Breaks over, back to work.

a/n: Chapter one will be released soon 🙃 Thanks for reading the teaser!

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[upat4amwiththemoon]

so i checked out your guidelines and you said that you like plot to be included too so i hope this isn't too much for you.

R is 11 here if that's okay with you.

can i ask you to write an avengers x teen!reader where tony adopts a kid from foster care and the team is trying to get her to open up but she locks herself in her room because she's used to moving from home to home or being abused in the system so she's scared to do anything normal like interact and stuff like that. when they showed her room on the first day she was hesitant to go in bc she's used to poor treatment. Wanda and Nat are the first ones to notice her behavior and they point it out to the rest of the team. they come up with a plan to help her but it only pushes her further away from them bc she isn't used to that much attention. they decide that when she's ready she'll come to them so one game night she tip toes downstairs and peaks in the living room to see them having a good time. wanda or vision senses her energy and she tries to silently sneak back but they invite her in and she reluctantly joins them. she isn't too familiar with the games they're playing so they teach her then afterwards they watch a bunch of movies and they're glad they can give her the family she never had.

Family

Summary: Sometimes it takes a while to find your true family.

Pairing: Avengers x teen!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1116

a/n: This is not too much at all! Thank you for the request :) (I’m sorry this is terrible)

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

Walking into an entirely new surroundings is always anxiety inducing, but it’s especially scary when the people leading you to your so called new room are the world’s mightiest heroes.

There’s two men and two women in front of her, she knows who they are, of course, but she isn’t going to bring it up. Surely they have already sensed it.

One of the men, Iron Man, or Tony, as he told her to call him, is talking constantly. His hands are moving up and down, side to side as he gestures to different rooms and what’s in them. He is walking right in front of her, creating a sort of barrier between them. Wanda on the other hand, is walking next to her, occasionally glancing down at her.

Y/N keeps her eyes on Tony’s back. She doesn’t want to look anyone in the eyes or seem too fearful by mapping out the place.

“And this here,” Tony stops walking and opens a door, “is your room.” He turns to look at her with a big grin.

Not moving, Y/N stares inside the room. The four of them keep looking at her, waiting to see her reaction, but they get none.

Tony clears her throat. “You can go in, kid.” With small steps, she goes into the room. “We know it’s a bit empty, but you just tell me whatever you need and want, and I’ll buy it.”

She doesn’t need anything. It’s not like this room will be hers for long. It’s usual for her to stay in a home for a month at best. So, it’s better to not get attached to anything or anyone.

Wanda has a frown on her face as she watches Y/N set down her tiny bag. She’s worried of the girl, but puts those feelings on the side, this is a big change after all.

“Should we leave you to settle in?” Steve speaks up when the silence starts to drag on for a long time. “Someone could come get you when dinner is ready.”

With a nod from Y/N, the four of them close the door and leave her alone with her thoughts. With no one around, she lets out a deep breath and starts inspecting the room. It’s bigger than any other room she has had, and cleaner.

It’ll definitely be harder to leave this room behind when the time eventually comes.

After two very uneventful days, Natasha and Wanda have started talking with the other Avengers how Y/N doesn’t seem to get better, even though they’re giving her plenty of space. So, they decide to try another approach.

Wanda knocks on the door with a huge smile. Some of the other team members are behind her with boxes.

Opening the door only slightly, Y/N peeks through the gap. “Hi!” Wanda waves. “We got you something, if you could open the door a bit more?” Her voice is gentle and on the quieter side.

Y/N opens the door properly. Her eyes widen when she noticed the others and all the boxes waiting there. “We bought you some furniture and decorations.” Natasha brings one of the boxes in the room. “Obviously, we don’t know for sure what you like, but I think we got some good stuff.”

She stays frozen on her spot, out of the way, staring at the others walking in and out of the room. There are so many of them at the same time. Y/N doesn’t understand what they’re doing. Is this a test?

In fear of being punish for a wrong reaction, she decides to not react at all. Her hands are shaking behind her back, but she doesn’t let them see her fear. She just stares at them with a stoic expression.

“What do you think?” Wanda asks once the things are set. “You can obviously change things around if they aren’t to your liking, but this is a good start, yeah?” When Y/N just nods mutely, Wanda’s smile falls.

A silence falls over the room. Very uncomfortable and heavy silence. “Well,” Natasha clears her throat. “We’ll let you be.”

When the door closes, Wanda and Natasha glance at each other. “That didn’t work out the way I wanted.” Wanda mumbles. “I really thought that’d help her get out of her shell.”

“Maybe we just need to let her be.”

She huffs. “I know, it’s just so difficult when I can basically hear her worries.”

“It’ll happen, lets just do it on her terms.”

A week goes by where it almost seems like Y/N pulled into her shell even more. She wouldn’t speak to anyone, or even want to physically be in the same room as someone else. One of the team members always had to go knock on her door and leave a plate of food in front of it, so she would eat.

Most of the team got back into their regular routines, though their worry stayed the same, but they couldn’t stand outside her door forever. Wanda and Natasha would talk to her through the door at times, even if the conversation was fully one sided.

Today, the Avengers decided to spend the evening playing different board games. It’s not unusual for them, as they like to do bonding activities together.

Tony knocked on Y/N’s door to ask her to join them, but only got a small head shake as an answer. However, after an hour and a half, Y/N opens the door carefully.

She sneaks towards the living room, being cautious not to make any noise. Stopping right before the room, she peaks in. All the team members are laughing and shouting together.

Y/N takes deep breaths to calm herself down, these kind of situations still make her incredibly nervous. Suddenly, Wanda turns to look at her.

Her eyes turn wide and she is just about to turn away to go back to her room’s safety, but Wanda speaks up before she can. “Hey, sweetheart. Do you want to join us?” Now some of the others turn to look at her.

With hesitance, Y/N starts walking towards them. They’re surprised by this, but try their best not to show it. “We’re playing Monopoly. You ever played it?” Tony asks as Y/N sits between Wanda and Natasha.

“No.”

“That’s alright, we’ll teach you.” Wanda smiles, putting one more pawn to the board.

Y/N stays quiet for quite some time during the game night, but when the evening goes on, she starts initiating conversation more and even leans on Wanda’s side at times.

Maybe this family is different after all, it certainly isn’t ordinary.

[dilfartist]

Missed - short

Pairing; Yandere Las Plagas Leon Kennedy x reader

Synopsis; after healing Ashely from the Las Plagas, Leon is unable to heal himself. Now fully infected with the Las Plagas, Leon returns home to you.

Reader description; Female/GN

Word count; 1k

TW;dark themes, Leon being crazy is so hot.

!Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

“Fuck, please start! Please start! Please start!” you cried ramming your car keys into the ignition. Regardless of the number of times you twist the keys, the car refuses to start. “No! Why, god!?” you choke, tears welling up and stinging your eyes.

You study the parking lot through the side-view mirror. Aside from parked vehicles, it was empty. Still, you felt the coil tightening in your stomach. Leon was bound to come any moment. And thanks to the abundance of entrances, he was free to enter wherever.

Instinctively, you press the lock button on the keys. All doors click reassuringly. Now you sit in your car, granting yourself the opportunity to settle your nerves.

What the hell had happened to Leon? One week ago you break up because of his constant absence, then today he’s pounding on your apartment building nearly taking the door off its hinges.

Leon pounding on the door wasn't too out of the ordinary, considering Leon, if given too much to drink, could be an obnoxious drunk. Nevertheless, his knocking was extremely harsh. Like he meant to knock down the door. Despite the clear red flag, you risked unlocking the door but completely halted when your cell phone aggressively vibrated in your pocket. Just as you answered the call, Leon’s banging ceased.

“Whatever you do, do not open that door!” a voice demanded urgently.

Without question, you compled. You simply backed away from the door. Again the voice commanded you sternly, “Grab a weapon. Use it if Leon manages to break in. And if he does, rush out of the door, do you understand?” you responded with an agreeing noise.

Leon begins pounding on the door once again. His muffled voice was audible, transferring through the door's thick wood to your ears. “I know you fucking hear me, (Name)! Answer this fucking door!”

You gape at the door. Leon never acted this way. Not even during arguments. Leon hated the idea of raising his voice at you, and even when he slipped, Leon corrected himself instantly. Something was terribly wrong. You reached over and clasped the largest knife poking outside the knife block.

Leon started hurling himself against the door, each hit included the sound of the door breaking. Before Leon could see you, you jumped into the closet adjacent to the front door. Not much after, Leon busted the door down; the door plunging to the ground with a deafening thud.

Placing your hand on your mouth, you watched through the thin closet slots as Leon stomped his way inside. Something undoubtedly was wrong with Leon. His peach-colored skin littered up to the bottom with visible dark veins. It looked unhealthy. Like Leon had been struck by lighting only a second ago.

He proceeded to your bedroom and you took the advantage. You bustled out of the closet, rushing out the door. Without looking back, you ran over to the elevator. Needing a distraction you pressed the down button on the elevator, hoping Leon would think you took the elevator and use the staircase beside it, whilst you utilized the exit on the other side of the hall.

The idea worked. The door slamming and footfalls descending the stairs was enough evidence.

So here you were in your car, chewing on your nails, fearing your ex-boyfriend’s arrival. You scanned the parking lot again, it stayed the same as the previous time. Just then your phone rang, startling you. Shaikly, you attain your phone from your pocket. The voice on the last call answers, “Miss. (Last name)?”

“Who is this? What the hell happened to Leon!?”

“I understand your stress, but please remember to keep calm.” the person advised calmly. “For starters, Leon works for us. Last week we sent him on a trip to Spain, unfortunately for Leon, he has obtained a virus. Fortunately for us, the woman he was sent to retrieve is safe and sound.”

“So?! I don’t care about the girl, whoever she is, I care about Leon!” you bark, voice quivering with anger.

“Well, when Leon returned to headquarters, he blacked out. It was impressive seeing how far he made it, evaluating the progress of the virus. We kept him safe, testing on him; and endeavoring to cure him. Sadly we haven't still. And that brings us to your situation. Leon, earlier this afternoon, escaped from containment. All week Leon spoke of his girlfriend, so we assumed he made his way to your apartment. We were right.”

“Now, I must warn you, Leon is dangerous. He’s not in his right mind at the moment. We’ll be able to further examine him, and help him if you lead him back to us. Are you able to do that?”

You shake your head, “No. The damn car won't cut on.”

“Alright, then we’ll send someone to your coordinates. Stay inside the car.” the person insists.

“Yeah. Okay, I will.”

The call ends and you are left gazing at the screen, slowly processing what was explained. You knew Leon worked in some secret agency, but this was on another level of strange.

“(Name)!” your name is roared malevolently. You shriek at the sight of Leon peering inside the car, hands pressed against the glass, red eyes meeting yours. “(Name), baby, open this door,” Leon spoke in his usual soft tone that only you experience. The tone that makes you malleable, and weak in the knees. “I’ve missed you. Been thinking about you all week. Those assholes kept us apart, but I'm here now.” Leon conversed with such sweetness it was beginning to make you physically sick.

Leon's visage also was painted with dark veins, his skin paler than before: Reminding you of how sick Leon really was. You wanted to help him. Wanted to hold him. But you wouldn't.

You shook your head, avoiding eye contact. “No, Lee,” you professed. “Y-you aren't okay, I won't let you in.”

Leon merely smiled. A sicking smile that sent chills dancing up your spine.

“Oh, but I am baby. Now open the door, I’ve missed you.”

Part 2