#she became even cooler in my eyes

[the-tortured-apollo-department]

THIS TEAM IS A BUNCH OF NASTY CUPIDS IM DEADDDD 💀💀💀

THEY PUSHED ICHINOSE ON RIKA IN EXCHANGE FOR A FAVOR

Why didn't they keep that in the anime omg it was brilliant and so much funnier

[forzalando]

Orange Theory

Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)

summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists! warnings: none!

You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.

Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.

“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?” The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.

“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”

“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.

“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”

You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.

“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”

“I just came to give you this.”

Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.

“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.

“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”

“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”

“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.

“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.

Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.

“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.

“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.

Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.

He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”

You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.

“He peels your oranges for you?”

You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”

“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”

“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”

Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.

“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”

“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”

As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.

“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.

As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. “Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”

“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”

“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”

“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”

A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.

“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”

“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”

“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”

You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”

Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. “Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”

“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.

“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”

“What else?”

“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”

Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.

“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.

“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.

“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”

Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”

“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”

“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”

“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”

Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. “I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.

Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.

Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.

You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.

When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.

You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.

But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.

They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.

You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.

“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”

The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.

“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”

“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”

“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.

“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”

You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.

“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cœur.”

“Would you kiss me?”

“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”

This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.

“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”

“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.

“Ah, désolé, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.

You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.

He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.

He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.

His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.

You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.

After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.

Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

[thebearer]

would you ever write something about protective baby daddy carmy, maybe it’s only a few weeks until the baby is born so super big belly and coming to family or making her spend all the time at the restaurant so he doesn’t miss the birth

"Make way, wide corner!" Richie bellowed, arms waving back and forth, guiding you through the kitchen like you were an airplane landing.

You glared at him, a snarl in your expression as you waddled around the corner. It was hot and you were so fucking pregnant, due any day now. "Shut the fuck up, Richie." You huffed, flinching at the heat of the kitchen, a wave of nausea coming over you.

"Richie, leave that poor woman alone. What's the matter with you, huh?" Tina snarled, glaring harshly at Richie. "How're you doin', Mama? How's the baby?" Her tone dropped to something sweeter, kinder for you, hand rubbing over your swollen abdomen. Normally, it bothered you when people touched your bump, but Tina was different. It was comforting with her.

"Miserable. Swollen. Hot." You muttered, looking down at your growing belly where baby girl was still jabbing at your ribs.

"I mean this in the nicest way, but... has the baby grew more since last week?" Sydney's eyes were skittish and wide, darting carefully from your stomach back to you.

You snorted lightly, running a hand over the swell of your abdomen. "She dropped a few days ago. Getting ready for launch." You muttered.

"Oh, that-that's, uh, terrifying." Sydney nodded, awkwardly. "Sorry, that's not what you want to hear, but, uh..."

"No, you're right. It is." You laughed, a little uneasy. It was fucking terrifying, all of it- pregnancy, birth, motherhood in general. It was scary.

"It also is so fucking painful because now everything is heavier and my back feels like it might snap." You gave a fake forced smile.

"Oh, poor Mama. That just means she's close. Only a few more days?" Tina beamed. "How much does she weigh?"

"They think eight pounds." You groaned, Sydney's eye bulging expression.

"Ay dios mio..." Tina muttered under her breath. "Well, you'll be so drugged up, honey, you won't even feel it."

"I'm praying for a C-section." You scoffed lightly. "Carmen's already said he's gonna be a wreck either way."

"Yeah, and he will be, won't you, Cousin?" Richie cackled, clapping his cousin on the back as he passed by.

"Be what?" Carmen muttered, too in the game to even see you there. "Chef, have you finished prep?"

"No, Jeff. Talking to your beautiful baby mama." Tina cooed, giving your arm a gentle squeeze.

Carmen's eyes lifted to you, brow furrowed when he looked at the time. "Hey, baby, I lost track of time." He muttered, lips brushing over yours in greeting, hand gliding down your growing stomach.

"We know you did, Cousin." Richie scoffed. "I went and got her."

"You drove with Richie?" Carmen's eyes flashed to you.

"C'mon, Carm. I'm a good fuckin' driver, alright? Quit busting my balls." Richie snorted, rolling his eyes at him.

"He drove safe, Carmy." You reassured, hand rubbing down his forearms sweetly.

Carmen hummed, rolling his eyes gently, but moved you through the kitchen after Sweeps almost hit you with a pan rounding the corner. "Here, come in my office."

"Is it cooler in there?" You moaned, lip jutting in a pout. "I'm about to stand in the freezer, Carmy, it's so fuckin' hot in here."

"I know." Carmen had learned, knew better now, than to do anything but agree with you. He'd been on the receiving end of your wild hormones too many times, your lashing tongue or worse- the fucking tears.

"I put the fan in here, and I have that neck thing in my little fridge, ok? You should be laying down anyways. Not supposed to be up." Carmen frowned lightly , pushing the door open to his office.

The couch was now used as your temporary napping place throughout the day. Carmen had put the bear in overbearing- a joke you told him that he did not find that humorous- when you became pregnant, and it only got more and more severe as months went on. When you got into your third trimester, put on bed rest the last few weeks, Carmen had taken it beyond serious. Insisting that you come stay with him at the restaurant. He was terrified at the thought of something happening or you going into labor when he wasn't around.

You'd agreed, reluctantly, really only because you wanted Carmen close and... because you were in a restaurant. Any type of craving would be satisfied easily for you.

"I think if I lay down, Carmy, I'm not making it back up for family." You yawned gently, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand.

Carmen grinned, reaching to turn on the fan besides the couch, pointing it at you so it would blow the cool air over you. "That's alright. I'll bring it here to you." He muttered, pulling the blinds closed for you.

You sat down, propped against the pillows, head lolling to the side to look at him. Carmen sat beside you, hand rubbing over your stomach. "Where's she at today?"

"Same place she was this morning. Right under my ribs." You grin, moving his hand under your left boob, pressing to the side when her fluttered kicks were.

Carmen beamed, eyes brightening as his hand ghosted over the spot there. "Talk to her, Bear." You muttered, eyes fluttering shut. This pregnancy fatigue was no fucking joke. "She likes your voice."

"Yeah?" Carmen grinned, perking at the compliment.

"Yeah." You nodded. "She likes to hear her Daddy's voice. Makes her kick like fucking crazy."

Carmen leaned down, cheek resting on your stomach gently. "Hi, baby. Are you bein' good?" He muttered, your body flushing with adoration at the gentleness of his words. "You ready to come out soon? We're ready for you to. I know your Mommy is."

You snorted, a breathy laugh cut short by a sharp kick to your ribs. "Keep talking." You muttered, moving his hand a little further to wear the kick was. "Bring out the cookbooks again."

"Yeah?" Carmen hummed, eyes crinkling with amusement. "Your Mommy thinks that's funny, but when you come out knowing how to make bruschetta, she's gonna be blown away. Won't she?" Carmen's voice lilted, a tone of baby talk that had you swooning. It was new, something he just recently started doing in the recent weeks. While you were nesting, so was he, in a different way. Getting used to the idea of being a dad, the anxieties he felt traded in for an excitement.

Carmen could feel it, tiny kicks pressing through your tight, stretched skin. His baby, kicking to the sound of his voice. His heart swelled. "See, she agrees with me."

You laughed, running a hand through his hair. "I know she does. Already got you already, hm, Berzatto?"

"Gets it from her, Mama." Carmen jested back, a playful twinkle in his eyes that had your heart soaring out of your chest, tears welling in the corners- damn pregnancy hormones. "Learnin' from you already."

You smiled wordlessly, a watery grin that had Carmen a little on edge until you reached out, pulling his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss into his palm. Carmen's hand cradling your cheek, free hand going back to where the baby had been kicking, soothing it gently while your eyes fluttered shut.

[strangelysamantha]

wet dreams ✧

jj maybank x plus!reader.

warnings: smut, 18+. MDNI. wet dreams, swearing, alcohol consumption, very light somnophilia, jj calls reader baby, slightly insecure reader.

words: 1,973.

summary: jj and you cuddle after a fun day of swimming with your friends. once sleep takes over, jjs dream runs wild, and with you in his bed, how could he keep the naughty thoughts at bay?

request? yes!! it was requested through pm!

a/n: i have so many stories in the making, i can’t wait to produce more works for everyone! like and repost if you enjoy! maybe follow if you want to see my new works. i’d really appreciate it <3

my masterlist

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due to the outer banks heat, you were obligated to wear shorts more often. it didn’t bother you too bad, you had grown used to it. what you weren’t used to however, was jjs reaction to your said shorts. regardless of the material, or the design, he would stare. and he made it known that he liked what he was seeing. you and the pouges were going to go swimming, you all agreed to meet at john bs to take his boat out.

you arrive at john bs, cooler in hand. you brought snacks for your friends, and even snagged a few beers. you approach the boat, seeing pope and john b had already made it. “pope! john b! hey! i brought snacks.” you lift the cooler slightly, jogging up to reach them. you give the cooler to john b and he places it in his boat. he grabs a beer for you and him, knowing pope was trying to keep his mind clear. he tosses you the beer and you crack it open. behind you approaches jj, “hey you better share.” you smile at him, “of course,” you hand him your half drank beer, and he happily chugs it. you place your hand on your hips, “thank you jj.” “anytime sweetheart.” you notice his eyes rake up and down your body. your nerves approach from his gaze, worried to be in the center of attention. john b and pope were caught up in conversation so that eased you slightly.

“you look mighty fine today.” he bites his lip softly, “love those shorts.” you smile, “thank you.” you couldn’t tell if jj actually liked you. or if flirty banter was just your dynamic. kiara approached the boat, gleaming. “it’s so nice out!” you pull her into a hug. “right!” you agree. john b exclaims, “alright everyone’s all here! let’s get out on the water!” you follow kiara, jj following closely behind you. the five of you crawl onto the boat, before setting sail. john b is steering. you’re sitting on the seat; soaking up the sun. kiara takes her shirt and shorts off, revealing a light green bikini. pope slides his shirt off as well. you take your sunglasses off setting it aside. you take your shirt off, throwing it in your pile. you slide your shorts off, as well as your shoes. you stretch slightly, making eye contact with jj. he’s smirking as he takes in your bikini. “you’re staring maybank,” he looks away slightly embarrassed, “you just look so hot.” his words filled your stomach with butterflies. “let’s swim.” you jump into the water, kiara, pope, and jj jumping after you. you guys continued to swim, splashing each other and enjoying the sun.

it became cooler as the sun went down, kiara was the first to bounce. she had homework that she needed to finish up. you said your goodbyes to her. you were able to get a towel from john b. you wanted to rinse the salt water off. you slid your bathing suit off, starting the shower.

you accidentally had too much to drink, you hadn’t planned on staying the night. john b assured you that it wouldn’t be a huge deal, and that you were always welcomed. this however, unfortunate poor planning left you without a change of clothes. jj was aware of this. he put one of his shirts, and a pair of your shorts you had left last time you were at john bs into the bathroom for you. he left to grab himself a pair of pajamas, before sitting in the living room.

you finish up your shower, drying off and getting dressed in the clothes that were left out for you. you felt a lot better now that you were clean. jj showered next, just a quick one to clean off. while he was in the shower you concluded that the couch was way too uncomfortable, and you figured jj wouldn’t mind having you in his bed. you settled yourself onto jjs bed, it felt very relaxing. jj hurriedly finished his shower. he changed, heading to the living room. he was under the impression that you would take the couch. his heart stung at the possibility of you sharing a bed with john b. his breath uneven as his imagination was fueling his anger. he shook it off, walking towards his room. his breathing slows once he realizes you had snuck into his bed.

you see jj in the doorframe. “hey j,” he hesitates, unsure of what to do. “hey.” he stares at you waiting for you to say something. “well, i won’t be able to fall asleep on the couch. it was too uncomfortable.” he smiles softly, “it’s okay you can take my bed, i can sleep on the couch.” you frown at his idea, “i’m not going to kick you out of your own room, just join me.” you pat the side of his bed, he walks towards the bed, awkwardly sitting on the edge. “come on jj, i don’t bite.” he chuckles at himself, knowing damn well he would bite and lick your thighs if given the chance. “alright.” he leaned back into his bed, “can you cuddle me?” you ask. his heart is racing, terrified to overstep. “of course.” he positioned himself on his side, your back into him, spooning.

silence falls between you two, as jjs hands snake around your waist, he pulls you close. the dark sky led to his room being chilly. you wiggle yourself as close as you can to him, trying to get warmth. jj easily slid to sleep, his light snores filling the room. you blush at his innocence, heart warmed by his presence. you try so hard to fall asleep but being so close to jj made you so nervous. you had a giant crush on him, and while you usually could hide your demeanor, being in his sheets, skin to skin, your mind couldn’t concentrate on a certain thought.

you laid there, when suddenly you felt jj through his pants. he sheepishly grinded into your ass, his grip on your waist tightening. your mouth opens in shock. you glance back to him, realizing he is still completely asleep. he continues to rut against you, his cock strained in his shorts. you didn’t know whether to wake him up, his actions starting to work you up. he shamelessly grinds himself against your ass, small moans falling from his lips. his breath is heavy, your core drips in arousal at his neediness.

you can't bare not pulling his cock out. you hesitate but decide to give him a hand. you pull down his shorts, his cock is dripped with precum, its veins prominent as he pulsated. you spit on his cock, taking your hand and rubbing him. you tug on his cock, the sight of him was driving you wild, your cunt aching for his attention. you moan a little too loud, while jerking his cock firmly, and jj stirs awake. he opens his eyes to the sight of you eyeing his cock, the pleasure takes over and he groans. "baby what are you doin?" you bite your lip, "well you were grinding against me, i'm sorry. i should have woken you up." you let go of him, backing away slightly. he's quick to correct himself, "i didn't say stop, i just wasn't expecting to wake up to my sex dream coming to life." you bite your lip, "you were dreaming about me?" he looks at you, grabbing your hands. "yes, i've had a crush on you for months. you're all i ever dream about. i guess it was worse than usual since you were actually in my bed. my body just knows what i want." he reaches for your hand returning it to his cock.

"i really wanna fuck you, j." he smirks, "i wanna fuck you so bad." he reaches for your chin, pushing his lips onto yours quickly, fueled by hunger and a craving. you slide off your pants, leaving you without underwear. "get on top." he demands. you sit back, frowning. "no." he halts. "no?" you shake your head. "ill crush you." his mouth turns into a straight line. "you won't crush me, i promise. i love your thighs," he squeezes them. "your hips and ass are so sexy too. you're perfect." his cock is throbbing, longing for you. you reach forward to jerk him. he moans at your touch, “do you see what you do to me? do you see how you affect me?” his words hit your stomach with butterflies, and you have to squeeze your thighs together to relieve some form of relief. he notices this movement and smiles. “you really want this don’t you?” he questions. “yes jj. i need to feel you.” your hand was still holding him, and you felt his cock twitch at your words. you inhaled sharply, entranced with this entire moment. "baby i need you to ride my cock, ill support you. please. i need you." you lift up, settling yourself on his lap. he grabs your hips.

he guided your movements, his lip captured between his teeth. he stuffs himself inside your pussy, stretching you out due to his length. “feels so good.” he groaned beneath you. you nodded quickly. “jj…” you open your eyes to see him looking up at you already. “please…” jj whimpered beneath you. you picked up the pace, starting to take him faster. you lifted up, slamming down on his length repetitively. your hands reach for his shoulders to support yourself.

“that’s right baby.” he filled your pussy to the brim. "you're so fucking big," you were a mess from his cock. he slides himself out of you, "bend over." you arch your back laying on your knees. he slaps your ass, squeezing it. he aligns himself with you, rubbing himself against your hole before slamming inside of you, he goes at a fast pace. "fuck you're so sexy, i love your pussy," he pulled your hair, lifting you up so he could plant a kiss on your lips. "such a pretty girl, taking my cock so well." you melt at his praise, you reach down to rub your clit. "jj don't stop, i'm close. so fucking close." he groans, "cum on my cock baby." you tighten against him as you catch your release. moans spill from your mouth as your sensations explode. he slaps your ass again, "fuck im getting close baby."

"cum in my mouth." he pulls out, and you twist over. you stick your tongue out; you look up at him as he jerks himself to your face. "ready for my cum?" he questions. you nod, he moans loudly as five streaks of cum cover your taste buds, it got on your cheeks, and chin. you swallow his load, sticking your tongue out to prove it, he smirks. "so sexy. let's get you cleaned up." he helps you to the bathroom, you use the toilet. he gets a rag and wets it with warm water. he bends down, wiping his cum off your face. "you did really well. you made me feel so good." you smile, "i've been waiting for this for a while," you confess. you get up, brushing your teeth and washing your face. you join him back into his room, he had set out a clean pair of shorts, and his t shirt you were wearing earlier. he had cleaned himself as well, changing into clean underwear and shorts.

"i'm sleepy now, j." he rubs your back, "me too." he settles into bed, and you join him, "do you think we could go on a date?" you sheepishly look up at him. "of course." he's satisfied, happy to have you in his sheets. you two cuddle and fall asleep.

[cherryxbooo]

Tim Bradford x younger reader. Reader is in university and lived next to the Bradfords her entire life. She was there for him when Isabel ran away.

You make everything better

Summary: You never expected to be the one there for Tim when his first love ran away.

Reader x Tim Bradford

Genre: fluff/angst(ish)

The Bradfords had always been part of the background of my life.

Their house was right next door, the kind of place that never felt imposing, yet it was one of those houses you couldn’t help but notice.

Big but not overwhelming. Quiet but never completely still.

I didn’t pay much attention to them growing up, not really.

Tim was just the cop next door, and Isabel, his wife, was always the one you’d see bringing in groceries or tending to the flowers.

They were a picture of normalcy, or at least, that’s what it seemed like from the outside.

I always had a vague sense that Tim was someone different, though.

He was a cop, after all, and while I didn’t know the details, I could tell that job had a way of changing people.

The long hours, the emotional weight of it all, it was clear that Tim carried it around, even if he didn’t talk about it.

He wasn’t the kind of person who shared much.

In a way, that silence became part of him.

But he had Isabel. She was the lightness to his quiet, his grounding.

Or so I thought.

I didn’t hear from them much, but I noticed when Isabel started to pull away.

It wasn’t obvious at first.

Little things, like how she’d come home late from work more often, or how Tim’s shifts seemed longer, somehow.

But then one day, I noticed that the porch light, which had always been left on late into the evening, was off.

I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t even realize the full extent of it until the whispers began.

I didn’t know much about their life. All I knew was that Isabel left. People talked.

They said Isabel had gotten caught up in something, something to do with drugs, maybe, and that Tim was too wrapped up in his work to see the signs.

And then, one morning, she was gone. Vanished.

And Tim? Tim was still there.

I didn’t know what to do. We’d always been neighbors, nothing more.

I’d never had a real conversation with him, beyond pleasantries when we bumped into each other in the yard or when I’d wave from across the street.

But as I watched him from my window one afternoon, sitting on the porch in complete silence, I felt like I had to do something.

So, I did what anyone would do, I grabbed a plate of cookies, the kind my mom always made when someone needed comforting, and walked over.

The air had grown cooler with the fall, and the leaves crunched beneath my feet as I approached his house.

The familiar smell of wood and earth drifted over from the yard, but there was a heaviness in the air that made the whole place feel different.

When I knocked on the door, Tim answered, and for a moment, I couldn’t recognize him.

The man I had always seen with his dark hair neatly combed and his uniform pressed was now wearing a faded shirt and a tired expression.

His eyes, though, his eyes were what caught me off guard.

They were dull. Tired. Like he hadn’t slept in days. Or weeks.

"Hey, Tim," I said, unsure if I was doing the right thing.

"I made some cookies. Thought you might want some."

His gaze softened, but there was still a trace of wariness in him.

He glanced at the plate of cookies, then back at me, his mouth pulling into a small, tight smile.

"Thanks," he said, his voice rough as if he hadn’t spoken much recently.

"Can I...?" I hesitated, glancing at the porch. "Can I sit with you for a bit?"

Tim nodded, stepping aside so I could enter. The house was quiet, unnaturally so.

There was something unsettling about the emptiness.

I followed him outside, where we sat on the porch swing, the sound of the chain creaking softly in the air.

We didn’t speak at first. Neither of us did.

There was nothing to say that could make things better.

I looked over at him, and it struck me how much older he seemed. There were deep lines around his eyes now, shadows under them, as if all the sleepless nights were etched into his skin.

The air between us hung heavy, but I didn’t want to force anything. Not with Tim.

I didn’t know what he needed.

But eventually, he spoke.

"You must have probably heard it.," he said quietly, as though it was hard for him to even admit it out loud.

"People around here like to run their mouth a lot, but it's true. She left."

I wasn’t surprised, but I was still caught off guard by the way he said it, like the words were foreign to him.

I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to comfort him, but I didn’t need to speak.

Tim wasn’t someone who needed a lot of words.

"I thought we were solid," he continued, almost to himself.

"I thought... I thought everything was fine." His fingers tightened around the edge of the swing, his knuckles going white.

I had heard rumors.

Whispers about Isabel’s drug use, about how things had started to spiral out of control, but I hadn’t known any of the details.

And now, as Tim spoke, I realized that none of that mattered.

The details didn’t matter.

It was the fact that everything he thought he knew about his life had been turned upside down.

Tim’s job had always been his first priority.

It had to be.

But in the end, it had taken more from him than just time, it had taken his connection with Isabel.

I didn’t know what to say to that. I couldn’t offer solutions or quick fixes, but I could be here.

So, I just nodded, offering a small, sympathetic smile.

"I’m really sorry, Tim," I said softly. "You didn’t deserve that."

He let out a deep breath, his shoulders sagging as he finally looked over at me.

"I didn’t see it coming," he said, his voice coming out low.

"I didn’t see her slipping away. I was too focused on... everything else. On work. I couldn’t even see what was happening in my own home."

I couldn’t imagine the guilt he must have felt.

But all I could do was sit there and listen, let him talk if he needed to.

"You don’t have to have all the answers right now," I said after a moment.

"You’re allowed to be... lost. It’s okay not to know what comes next."

Tim gave a short, almost humorless laugh, and for a brief moment, he seemed like the Tim I had always known.

The one who was steady, even in his uncertainty. "I guess I am lost," he said, shaking his head.

"I just... don’t know where to go from here."

I didn’t have any grand advice, didn’t have any perfect words to make it better.

But I could tell him this:

"You don’t have to figure it all out at once. You can take your time."

There was a quiet pause. Then, Tim looked at me, his face softening just a little.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

"I don’t know what I’m doing, but... maybe you’re right."

We sat there in silence, watching the sky darken, feeling the weight of the moment settle between us.

Tim didn’t have to say anything else.

I didn’t either.

Sometimes, just being there was all that mattered.

And so, that’s what I did. I was there.

I didn’t have the answers for him, but I could offer him this small moment of peace, even if only for a little while.

It wasn’t much, but in that silence, it was enough.

Days stretched into weeks, and weeks into months and as the time passed, I found myself at Tim’s house more often than I’d initially planned.

The reasons varied, of course.

Some days, it was just to check in on him, to make sure he was eating or getting enough rest.

Other days, I brought food, sometimes it was simple takeout from a nearby café, or sandwiches I made between classes, nothing fancy but enough to share.

But more often than not, I came just to be there.

To fill the empty spaces that seemed to surround him, whether that meant sitting in silence or trying to spark a conversation when I could see the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.

Each visit felt like a quiet reassurance, for both of us. For him, because I was giving him the time and space he needed, without expecting anything in return.

And for me, because with every passing moment, I could feel the walls he’d built around himself begin to crack just a little bit more.

It wasn’t that I was expecting some grand breakthrough, but it was the small things, the subtle changes, that mattered the most.

He didn’t ask for much, but somehow, I could tell that just having me there made things a little easier.

We didn’t always talk. In fact, there were times when the silence between us was thick, heavy, but not uncomfortable.

Sometimes, it was like we didn’t need words. Like just being in each other’s presence was enough to offer some comfort, some small piece of healing.

I could see the way he’d look at me out of the corner of his eye when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, those fleeting glances that spoke volumes.

He’d never say it out loud, but I knew he was starting to rely on me, even if just a little bit.

There were nights when we sat outside on the porch swing, the world going on around us, but we were there in our own little bubble.

I’d bring over sandwiches, and we’d eat in silence, the rhythmic creak of the swing the only sound between us.

I’d never been one for forced conversation, and Tim was always a man of few words.

But those nights, with the sun setting low in the sky, everything just felt... peaceful.

Like nothing needed to be said for it to be understood.

One evening, I arrived a little later than usual since I had back-to-back classes.

The streetlights were already flickering on, casting long shadows across the yard.

I had grabbed some sandwiches from the café I passed on my way to his place, still warm from the grill.

As I knocked on the door, the usual stillness inside his house greeted me, and Tim opened it almost immediately.

When he saw the bag in my hands, his expression softened for just a moment, a slight but noticeable change from his usual tiredness.

"Another day, huh?" I said with a small smile, holding out the bag of sandwiches to him.

He glanced down at the bag, then back at me, his tired eyes betraying a hint of something deeper.

He hesitated before accepting it, like he wasn’t sure whether he should let me in again.

His lips parted, and I caught a small flash of guilt or perhaps embarrassment before he spoke.

“You didn’t have to,” he muttered, looking at the bag in his hands.

It was the same phrase he had used before, but this time, it sounded different, less dismissive and more... unsure.

I stepped past him into the house, not even bothering to wait for him to fully open the door.

“I know I don’t have to,” I said, brushing past him with a teasing grin.

“But I want to. Besides, someone’s got to make sure you’re eating, right?”

I noticed the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared.

Tim didn’t laugh much these days, and that was something I’d come to accept.

But there was something else in the way he watched me as I set the sandwiches on the coffee table.

It wasn’t the tired, distant look he had when I first started coming by.

This was different, there was something in his gaze that made me pause, something that said he was beginning to see me again, not just as the person who brought food, but as the person who had been there for him.

The person who wasn’t going anywhere.

“You know,” he said quietly after a beat, his voice almost hesitant,

“I never really asked for any of this. I never asked for someone to keep showing up like this. But... I don’t know, Y/n. I guess I’m kind of glad you do.”

He looked down at his hands for a moment, as if trying to find the right words to explain himself.

I felt my heart give a little lurch at his words.

I could see how hard it was for him to open up, how uncomfortable he was letting anyone in, especially after everything that had happened.

But I was here. I had been here all along, and I wasn’t going anywhere.

“You don’t have to say anything, Tim,” I said softly, sitting down beside him on the couch.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m not here because I feel obligated. I’m here because I want to be. And because... you’re my friend and neighbour. And I’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

He turned to look at me, his expression unreadable.

But there was something in the way he held my gaze, something that made me feel like maybe, just maybe, he was starting to trust me again.

Not completely, not yet, but he was letting his guard down just enough to see that I wasn’t going to walk away.

“I don’t know what to say to you sometimes,” he admitted quietly, almost to himself.

“I feel like I’ve messed everything up... with Isabel, with everything. And... I don’t know how to make it right.”

I watched him for a moment, the vulnerability in his words making my heart ache.

He had never been one to show weakness, not to anyone. But in that moment, I could see the cracks in his armor.

It wasn’t easy for him to admit how much he was hurting, but I could feel the weight of it, the guilt he carried from everything that had happened.

“Tim, you don’t have to have it all figured out right now,” I said, gently placing a hand on his arm.

“You don’t need to fix everything all at once. You just need to take it one step at a time. And I’ll be here for all of it. Okay?”

He didn’t reply immediately, but I could feel the tension slowly draining from his body as he leaned back into the couch, his gaze unfocused, lost in his thoughts.

I stayed quiet, letting him process everything in his own time.

After a few moments, Tim sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping slightly as he relaxed into the couch.

“You’ve been showing up a lot lately,” he said, his voice quieter now, like he was trying to figure out what this all meant.

“And I can’t tell if it’s because you feel bad for me or because you actually want to be around me.”

I turned to him, my eyes soft.

“I’m here because I want to be. Because I care. And because... I know you. Tim Bradford, who’s always been too stubborn to let anyone in, and yet here I am, sitting on your couch, talking about feelings like we’re some emotional soap opera. You don’t get rid of me that easily.”

He gave a small, reluctant chuckle at my teasing tone, his lips curving upward just slightly.

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” I said with a grin, “here you are.”

We fell into a comfortable silence again, the kind that didn’t feel forced, the kind where two people didn’t need words to fill the empty spaces.

There was something unspoken between us, something that told me that whatever had happened before, we were on the right path.

Tim wasn’t healed, he wasn’t perfect, but I could see the shift, the subtle change in him.

The walls weren’t down yet, but they were starting to crumble. And I was right here, standing by, waiting for him to let me in completely when he was ready.

It wasn’t going to be easy.It wasn’t going to be quick. But it didn’t matter.

We had time.

It didn’t take long for others to start noticing too.

One afternoon, I decided to stop by the station to bring Tim lunch.

I figured since my classes were done early, why not get something for Tim?

He was buried in paperwork, as usual, but I didn’t mind waiting for him to finish his shift.

I didn't bother letting him know I was here since I knew sooner or later he would take his lunch break anyways.

I found myself seated in the break room, scrolling aimlessly through my phone, trying to keep my mind occupied as the day dragged on.

As I settled into a chair, I couldn’t help but notice how different the atmosphere felt.

The usual hum of chatter was punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter or complaints about long shifts, but today there was something more, something that seemed to linger in the air.

It wasn’t just the usual noise; it was the weight of unspoken things.

Things I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but I felt them pressing in from all sides.

I was trying not to overthink it, but I had a sinking feeling in my gut.

A few minutes passed before the door to the break room opened, and Lucy, walked in.

She glanced around the room and her eyes immediately landed on me, a teasing smile spreading across her face.

"Well, well, look who it is," she said, her tone light but with that unmistakable edge of curiosity.

"You and Tim are spending a lot of time together these days, huh?"

I froze for a second, caught off guard. I hadn’t thought much of it before, but now, under Lucy’s sharp gaze, I realized how conspicuous my visits had become.

It wasn’t like I was hiding anything, it was just... complicated.

I cleared my throat, trying to act natural, though it felt impossible under her intense scrutiny.

"I’ve known Tim forever," I said quickly, offering a weak smile.

"We’re just—uh—friends. I’m just helping him out while he’s dealing with everything." I shrugged, hoping the explanation would sound casual enough.

Lucy raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, her smile widening as she looked at me.

"Uh-huh. Sure," she said, her tone dripping with amusement, though there was an underlying curiosity that made me uncomfortable.

"You sure it’s just that?"

I laughed awkwardly, not sure how to respond.

"Yeah, it’s nothing like that," I said, forcing a more confident tone.

"Just... making sure he’s okay."

Lucy didn’t seem entirely satisfied with my response, but before she could say anything else, Angela walked in, her presence soft but steady, as always.

She gave me a brief, knowing glance, then made her way to the coffee machine.

She took a slow sip of her coffee, then glanced at me, her expression casual but thoughtful.

"Everything okay with you and Tim?" she asked, her voice carrying that undertone of concern that I was getting to know so well.

I shrugged, trying to keep things light.

"Yeah, just trying to be there for him. You know how it is."

Angela gave me a small, understanding smile. "Uh-huh," she said, her voice warm.

"Well, he could really use someone like you right now. He’s been through a lot."

There was a certain empathy in her voice, a softness that made it clear she wasn’t just speaking out of curiosity but out of genuine care.

I nodded, though my throat tightened slightly.

"I know," I said quietly. "I’m just... I’m not going anywhere."

Angela studied me for a moment, her gaze steady. "Good. Because he needs you more than you realize."

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I simply nodded, grateful for her understanding but also feeling that tug in my chest.

He needed me?

The words sounded so simple, but I knew they carried more weight than either of us could truly express.

I wasn’t sure if I was the right person for him, but at least I knew I wasn’t going to turn my back.

Just then, Tim walked into the break room, his tired eyes immediately locking onto me.

The usual exhaustion seemed heavier in his steps, but when he saw me, his face softened, the corners of his lips turning up in a faint smile.

"Hey," he said quietly, his voice rough from the long day.

"Hey," I replied, standing up to hand him the bag of lunch I had brought.

Tim’s eyes flickered over the bag before meeting mine, and for a moment, there was a hesitation in the way he looked at me, like he was unsure whether to accept it or not.

But then he sighed, a weary but grateful exhale, and took the bag.

"You didn’t have to, but... thanks."

I watched as he sat down at one of the nearby tables, unpacking the lunch while I leaned against the counter, my heart quietly thudding in my chest.

Angela, who had been standing by the coffee machine, exchanged a glance with Lucy, her smile now knowing.

Lucy, still leaning against the doorway, gave a small smirk before turning her attention back to Tim.

"So, you finally caved, huh?" she teased, nodding toward the food.

"She’s got you eating lunch now."

Tim rolled his eyes, but there was a soft chuckle beneath the exasperation.

"It’s not like I have much of a choice," he said, still looking at the sandwich like it was some sort of rare treasure.

He glanced up at Lucy.

"Besides, I’m not complaining. I’m just not used to people looking out for me like this."

There was a vulnerability in his voice that I don’t think he meant to show, but it was there, in the quiet undertone, the subtle shift in the way he spoke.

I knew Tim wasn’t the kind of guy to ask for help.

He was the one who fixed problems, not the one who leaned on others.

But somehow, with me, it felt like he was starting to let go of that.

Angela watched the exchange closely, and then, as if sensing the shift in the air, she turned to Lucy.

"You know, Tim’s been through a lot recently," she said quietly, but loud enough for Tim to hear.

"He’s lucky to have someone like Y/n looking out for him."

Tim’s expression softened, but there was a flicker of something, embarrassment, maybe, crossing his face.

He didn’t want to acknowledge what was happening between us, and I could tell he didn’t want to make it into anything more than it already was.

But the way Angela spoke, the way Lucy subtly nodded her head, it felt like the room was starting to see something I hadn’t even fully acknowledged myself.

Tim cleared his throat, looking between the two of them.

"Can we not do this?" he muttered, his usual gruff tone returning.

Lucy just grinned. "We’re just saying, Tim. You’ve got someone good by your side."

He shot her a glare, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, picking up his sandwich.

"Now, let me eat in peace."

I couldn’t help but chuckle at how Tim was, even when the attention was on him.

He was the kind of guy who liked to keep things quiet, low-key, but deep down, he had a heart bigger than anyone could guess.

I’d seen it in the little moments.

In the subtle ways he would smile when he thought no one was looking, the quiet gratitude he’d show when I checked in on him.

But what nobody else saw, what no one else truly understood, was that he wasn’t just letting me help him.

He was starting to let me in.

And that, in itself, was something I’d never taken for granted.

Months went by, each day gently nudging Tim closer to healing.

It wasn’t immediate or obvious, but I could see the small shifts in his demeanor.

The subtle way he would offer a half-smile when I arrived at his door, the ease with which he would share a quiet moment with me on the porch swing.

Slowly, he started to settle into the routine of his life again.

Work at the station, though demanding, seemed to bring some comfort to him, and I often found myself bringing him lunch or joining him for a coffee break, simply to be there, without expectations.

One evening, nearly a year after Isabel left, I found myself sitting with Tim on his porch again.

The night was unusually quiet, the world around us seeming to pause in a peaceful stillness.

The trees swayed gently, and the air smelled like summer, warm and comforting.

Tim had wrapped up his shift earlier than usual, and we found ourselves sitting together, the familiar rhythm of the evening comforting and unhurried.

I stole a glance at him from the corner of my eye. He was staring out at the stars, but I could see the subtle tension in his shoulders.

The way he exhaled a little too deeply, as though he was letting go of something that had been weighing on him.

It was a feeling I had grown used to, the heaviness he carried.

But tonight, it felt like something was different.

The night air was cool, the gentle breeze rustling the leaves above us, and I could feel the calmness settle into my bones.

Everything was quiet, except for the soft rhythm of our breathing and the occasional sound of crickets in the distance.

I turned my head slightly, stealing a glance at Tim.

He was sitting so close, his presence so palpable, but he still had that same tired, thoughtful look in his eyes that I had come to recognize over the past few months.

But now, there was something softer in him, a quiet strength, a peace that hadn’t been there before.

For a moment, I simply let my fingers brush against his, the simple touch lingering in the air between us.

The connection was natural, easy. It wasn’t the first time our hands had brushed like this, but tonight, it felt different.

There was an unspoken understanding between us now, something we hadn’t put into words yet, but that felt like it was always there.

I felt the warmth of his hand against mine, the solidness of it, and it made me realize just how much he had come to mean to me.

Tim looked at me then, his eyes meeting mine with that softness I hadn’t seen before.

It was like he was letting down the last of his walls, the final pieces of the armor he had put up after everything with Isabel.

I could feel the weight of it, the healing that had happened, the painful journey he had been on, and I was there, right beside him, supporting him, but also, silently sharing in his transformation.

"I don’t think I ever really understood what it meant to have someone by your side until now," Tim said, his voice soft but heavy with emotion.

He spoke with such raw honesty that it made my chest tighten.

"I think I’ve always been so used to carrying things alone... But you, you’ve made it easier, without even trying."

I squeezed his hand a little, my heart aching with all the things he hadn’t said out loud but that I could hear in his tone.

"I’m just here for you, Tim," I whispered. "I always will be."

There was a long silence, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

It was full of understanding, full of all the emotions we had shared over the past year.

Tim shifted closer, the space between us becoming just a little smaller, but it wasn’t rushed.

It was like we were both giving ourselves permission to feel this moment, to let it settle in without trying to force anything.

He leaned his head back slightly, his gaze shifting to the stars above us.

The night was clear, and I followed his line of sight, watching the stars twinkle in the vast expanse of sky.

The quiet was soothing, almost as if the universe was holding its breath for us.

"I didn’t know how much I needed this," Tim murmured after a while, his voice barely louder than the breeze.

"You’ve always been here, always had my back. I never really appreciated it until recently."

I turned toward him, my heart swelling with something I couldn’t quite put into words.

"You don’t have to say anything, Tim," I said softly.

"I’m just glad I’m here, that we’re here."

He met my gaze again, and for the first time, I saw something in his eyes that wasn’t just about the past or the hurt he had carried.

There was something new, something tender, something hopeful.

It was like he was letting go of all the things that had weighed him down and opening himself up to what was right in front of him.

"I think… I think I’ve been afraid of letting go for so long," he said, his voice catching slightly.

"Afraid of trusting again, of letting myself care for someone like this. But with you, it’s different. You make me feel like I’m not broken anymore."

My breath hitched, the vulnerability in his words piercing right through me.

I didn’t know what to say, so instead, I reached out, my fingers gently brushing his cheek.

The warmth of his skin beneath my touch made my heart race, and the moment felt so real, so tangible, that it made everything else seem distant.

He looked at me, his eyes holding mine with a quiet intensity.

And then, without another word, Tim leaned in just a little, his breath mingling with mine.

There was no grand gesture, no big confession.

It was just two people, sharing something that had been building for so long.

Something that had been quietly simmering in the background but was now ready to come to the surface.

The kiss came slowly, naturally. Tim’s lips were soft against mine, hesitant at first, like he was testing the waters, unsure of what this all meant.

But as the seconds passed, the kiss deepened, became more certain. His hand moved to my waist, pulling me closer, and I responded, letting myself get lost in the warmth of the moment.

There were no more walls between us, no more hesitation.

It was just us, in that fleeting moment where everything felt right.

When we pulled away, our foreheads rested together, both of us breathing a little heavier, but neither of us moving away.

Tim smiled softly, his thumb brushing across my hand in the gentlest of gestures, and there was a quiet kind of joy in the way he looked at me.

"You make everything better," Tim murmured, his voice low and full of tenderness.

I smiled, my heart swelling with the truth of his words.

"You do the same for me."

And just like that, in the quiet of the night, everything had changed.

The air between us was no longer filled with uncertainty or unspoken words.

It was filled with the promise of something new, something worth exploring.

Tim looked at me one more time, his smile wide, and without hesitation, he kissed me again, deeper this time, like he had found the peace he had been searching for all along.

I closed my eyes, letting myself be wrapped up in the moment, in him, knowing that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

As we pulled away, I laughed softly, feeling lighter than I had in a long time.

"You’re not so bad, you know?" I teased, my voice playful.

Tim grinned, a spark of mischief lighting up his eyes.

"I could say the same about you."

I leaned back a little, still grinning.

"You know, this whole ‘finding peace’ thing is great and all, but I still have a paper due tomorrow. So… no more distractions from you, okay?"

Tim chuckled, his fingers brushing against mine as he leaned in once more.

"I think you might be the only person who could make me feel guilty about a kiss. But I guess I can’t argue with a paper deadline."

I rolled my eyes, laughing.

"Good. Because I’m already regretting not studying before I decided to spend all my time with you."

Tim smirked. "Well, I’ll make it up to you by making sure you get an A on that paper. I can be pretty persuasive."

"Only if you promise not to distract me more," I shot back with a wink.

Tim raised an eyebrow. "No promises."

And just like that, the world felt right again.

In that moment, with the stars above us and the quiet of the world around us, I knew everything was finally falling into place.

The end

[girllblogging777]

𝐵𝐴𝐶𝐾𝑆𝑇𝐴𝐺𝐸 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐸𝑁𝐴𝐷𝐸

↳ famous mattheo riddle x journalist reader

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.5k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : falling for the lead singer of the band… except you should keep things professional

(part 1 here, you don’t necessarily need to read it)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the final chords of the silver dominion’s encore reverberated through the venue, the sound rippling through your chest like a heartbeat. the crowd roared its approval, screaming for more even as the stage lights dimmed. you stood on the edge of the chaos, still reeling from this evening’s events. the review you were supposed to be writing felt impossibly distant, as if the energy in the room had swallowed it whole.

you had been trying to focus all night. trying to keep things professional. but since you had interviewed the band earlier, mattheo riddle hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. his dark gaze locking onto yours, his mouth curling in that infuriating smirk, it became harder to remember you were supposed to be working.

the opening notes of one of their most famous songs began and the audience erupted, screaming the lyrics before mattheo had even sung the first line. he smirked at the noise, but when it was time for the verse, he stumbled.

he should have sung “I’ve been searching for something I’ll never find,” but instead, he hesitated, his lips parting as if the words had completely slipped his mind. the band played on, unfazed, but mattheo looked straight at you, his smirk turning sharp as he improvised.

“she’s got me tied, got me blind,

can’t think straight, she’s all on my mind.

should I blame the music, or blame her smile ?

guess I’ll be lost for a little while.”

the crowd roared, hands in the air as if this was part of the plan, but you knew better. mattheo gave you a pointed look, his grin crooked and entirely too self-satisfied as the crowd screamed louder.

your cheeks burned, your heart hammering as he turned back to the mic and slid seamlessly into the real lyrics, the moment passing like smoke. but when his lips twitched into another smirk as he looked over his shoulder, you couldn’t stop the breathless laugh that escaped you.

prowling the stage like he owned it, the collar of his shirt loose enough to reveal the ink trailing across his chest, mattheo riddle looked like a vision. but he had missed his line on purpose. and the worst part ? he knew it had worked.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

later, as the lights began to rise and the crowd reluctantly started to disperse, a man in a headset approached you. “you’re the journalist, right? the one from earlier?”

you nodded, half-expecting him to tell you to leave or remind you about some press embargo. instead, the tall man gestured toward the backstage area.

“you’re asked backstage. follow me.”

your heart leapt before you could stop it, heat rushing to your cheeks as you scrambled to follow him. the narrow corridor was dimly lit, the air cooler than the packed venue but still buzzing with energy. your guide led you to the band’s dressing room where you’d already been today, pausing outside the door.

“go on in. they’re just wrapping up.”

you pushed the door open cautiously. the dressing room was cozy but chaotic : guitar cases, empty beer bottles, and discarded jackets were strewn across the room. theo and blaise lounged on the couch, laughing about something while mattheo stood off to the side, towel slung around his neck, his brown curls damp with sweat.

the moment he saw you, his face lit up. he stepped away from the others, his lips twitching into that same crooked grin that had been haunting you all night.

“you made it,” he said, his voice warm and low as if there had been any doubt.

you shrugged and tried to play it cool. “didn’t want to miss the chance to see what goes on behind the curtain.”

mattheo chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “careful, you might ruin the mystery.”

“you’re assuming there’s still mystery to ruin.”

that earned a genuine laugh, and he took another step closer. his demeanour had completely changed, he was acting much more confident than when you’d interviewed him. “fair. so, what did you think of the show?”

“it was…” you paused andsearched for the right words, but his gaze was so intent it made it hard to think. “it was great. you were great.”

his smirk softened into something more genuine, his voice dropping as he said, “you know, I’ve done a lot of interviews, but there’s something about you. felt it the second we met.”

the air between you seemed to shift, the noise of the room fading as his words settled over you. “i-…”

“oi, matty boy!”

the door banged open and enzo, the band’s bassist, barged in, grinning like a mischievous child. he was carrying two beers, one of which he immediately handed to mattheo. “you gonna stand here making heart eyes all night, or are we celebrating?”

mattheo exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “enzo-”

“oh, don’t stop on my account,” enzo teased, flopping onto the couch with the grace of someone who knew exactly how to kill a moment.

you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as the tension dissipated. “I should probably let you celebrate,” you said, taking a step back.

mattheo caught your wrist gently, his touch sending a jolt of heat up your arm. “don’t go.”

his voice was quiet, but it was enough to stop you in your tracks. you glanced back at him, your pulse racing.

enzo made a dramatic gagging noise. “merlin, you two are painful. I’m getting out of here before I choke on the sexual tension.” he grabbed his beer and sauntered out, leaving the two of you alone.

mattheo huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “sorry. he’s an idiot.”

“seems like a good friend, though,” you offered, trying to ease the lingering awkwardness.

“he is,” mattheo admitted. then his gaze softened again, his thumb brushing lightly over your wrist. “but I’d still rather it just be us right now.”

your breath caught as he stepped closer, his other hand coming up to rest lightly on your waist. his eyes searched yours, as if giving you one last chance to pull away.

when you didn’t, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. It wasn’t rushed or frantic. it was careful, full of unspoken promises.

“so much for keeping things professional,” you murmured when he broke the kiss to catch his breath

mattheo grinned, his voice a low rumble. “screw professional. this feels real.”

his thumb brushed over your cheek, his gaze dipping to your lips again as if he couldn’t quite get enough. he looked like he was craving another taste of you, but the touch of his calloused hands felt strangely soft. “you know, I’m not usually this forward, but I can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to take you out. just you and me. no cameras, no interviews. what do you say?”

your lips curved into a soft smile, your voice breathless. “I’d say yes. definitely yes.”

he grinned at that, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as he pulled you into another kiss. it was deeper this time, more insistent as if he couldn’t help it. his lips moved with a deliberate intensity that left you dizzy, his other hand resting firmly on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

the air grew warmer, the distance between you nonexistent as his mouth left a slow trail along your jawline, his breath hot against your skin. your pulse quickened as you tilted your head back, his lips brushing the sensitive spot below your ear. “is this where I remind you I’m supposed to be writing an article about you?”

mattheo’s lips hovered over yours, his breath warm as he whispered, “so… what’s the headline gonna be ? ‘lead singer of the silver dominion is one hell of a kisser’?”

you couldn’t help but laugh softly, your fingers sliding into his damp curls. “more like, ‘lead singer of the silver dominion is insufferably cocky.’”

his grin widened as he leaned in, brushing his mouth against yours in a way that made your knees weak. “as long as you include the part where I absolutely ruined you tonight.”

your cheeks flushed and you pulled him closer, voice laced with equal parts challenge and desire. “guess I’ll need a bit more material to work with, won’t I ?”

he chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin as his hands gripped your hips. “you’re definitely not getting into writing anytime soon anyways. I’ve got other plans for us right now.”

the door was still closed, the muffled hum of the venue beyond it fading into nothing as the heat between you built. mattheo pressed you back against the wall, his lips finding yours again in a heated kiss.

oh yeah, you were definitely gonna be busy tonight…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : hey pookies, it’s been a while ! haven’t had much time to read lately but here’s a little something to keep you entertained

tell me if you wanna be added to the tag list ! @redeemingvillains @leona-hawthorne @shiftingwithmars @tateshifts @rose-of-the-grave @clar2aa @iris-qt @sp7-mr @deadghosy @deadsnakey @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @shiftingwithleah @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @yikesitslush @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs @mattiesgf @reidol0gy @kenjikishimotoswifey @2dloveshp

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (20/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, sexual tension, soft dirty talk, targcest stuff, the angst, manipulation, nightmares ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

There was darkness all around her.

It wasn't the darkness of night, the kind when the sun had long since set behind the horizon – then she could at least recognise the shapes around her.

Now, however, she could see nothing but a black void – she tried to focus, wondering where she was and how to escape from the place she was in. After a moment, she realised that although her sense of sight was completely helpless, she could hear something in the distance.

At first she thought it was the rustling of leaves, but then the sound became louder and the hum of the water around her almost deafened her. A cry of surprise and terror stuck in her throat when she suddenly felt some cold, wet hand grab her arm.

When she opened her eyes, it was already dawn – the rising sun outside the window was obscured by heavy grey clouds. Her heart pounded hard for a long moment more before she realised it was just another nightmare.

The arm that embraced her was warm and familiar, her husband's calm, quiet breath enveloped her neck with every movement of his chest. She knew he was already awake because his thumb was stroking her wrist – she closed her eyes, focusing only on that.

On his closeness, his tender touch, his presence.

She wasn't sure if what she had experienced with him that night had really happened – it seemed unreal to her – but on the other hand, the burning discomfort between her thighs told her that it was true.

They were closer than ever, and that made her even more afraid.

Her lord-husband was not thrilled with her idea of speaking with the Witch of Harrenhal. She knew, however, that this woman certainly had the answers to many of her questions – she just had to convince her that she was not her enemy.

Criston Cole led her into the dungeons, which reeked of dampness and rodent excrement – she swallowed hard, trying not to show on her face the discomfort she felt as she heard the moans of the people behind the iron bars, their pleas for her to have mercy on them.

They finally stopped under one of the cells – the light of day fell on the figure of a woman sitting on the ground, with her wrists tied and her mouth stuffed with some dirty cloth. It was a pitiful sight – her gaze was tired and bored, her pupils bright green, her raven-black long hair flowed gently down her shoulders.

She nodded to Criston Cole to open the lock and stepped inside.

"Leave us alone, Ser Criston." She said calmly.

There was an expression full of discomfort on his face, surely because her husband had given him completely opposite orders.

"Our Prince has commanded that I am not to leave your side and to see to it that no harm comes to you." He replied matter-of-factly.

"No harm will come to me. Leave." She said a little cooler.

She crouched down in front of her as Ser Criston closed the door behind her and walked away with a loud clatter of his armour. Once they were alone, she removed the material from her mouth with a gentle, slow motion – she reached back to the short dagger she had strapped to her belt and used it to cut the ropes that tied her hands.

The woman massaged her wrists, where she could see the long blue marks, her mouth dry with thirst. She handed her the cup of fresh water she'd been ordered to bring with her, and she drank slowly of its entire contents, looking her straight in the eye.

"I know what you want." The witch finally said, setting the steel cup down on the ground without even waiting for her to let her speak. "I know what you're trying to prevent."

She swallowed hard, looking down the corridor from the corner of her eye, hoping Criston Cole was standing far enough away not to hear what they were discussing.

"What's your name?" She asked finally.

The woman sighed heavily and leaned back, resting her head against the cold stone wall.

"Alys. Alys Rivers."

A bastard.

"We were greeted in the fortress by blue holly. Is that your creative invention?" She asked softly, sitting down opposite her on the hay.

Alys grinned, watching her figure from top to bottom with her gaze.

"You're smarter than him. Your father didn't even notice." She hummed with some kind of mockery, from which an unpleasant, cold shiver ran through her.

"You wanted him to daydream? Did you succeed?" She asked further.

The woman smiled broadly hearing her questions.

"He saw, heard and experienced some things. Peaceful sleep didn't find him day or night." She concluded.

They were silent for a moment, her gaze full of self-satisfaction.

"You said you know why I am here. So you also understand what I want." She said, looking at her hopefully.

I want him to survive.

Alys was silent for a long moment, looking at her with a kind of boredom, as if disappointed by her attitude.

"In a way, I pity you." She muttered at last, making her feel a strange, disturbing sting in her heart.

"Why?"

The woman sighed with a smirk of amusement and looked to the side, as if she were musing.

"If you weren't here, he would have taken me the very first night. Your husband. He would have cuddled up to my bare breasts. He would have sucked the milk from my nipples. He would have left his legacy, his son in my womb." She said lightly with a quiet click of her tongue, stroking her lower abdomen as if she could see it in her imagination.

The shame, pain, disgust and grief she felt deep inside her was indescribable – a previously unknown feeling squeezed her throat, her eyes filled with burning tears of rage that she refused to let flow.

Some part of her knew she was telling the truth.

He was incapable of being alone, incapable of facing the reality around him on his own.

He needed a mother, a mistress, a whore, a servant, a witch, any warm body with soft breasts that he could snuggle into and hide.

You are his favourite toy, but you are not irreplaceable, she remembered Gwayne's words.

She lowered her gaze, knowing that Alys had told her this to hurt her, to gain a mental advantage over her, to destroy what was between them and watch with satisfaction as the lives of the people who had imprisoned her burned.

If you weren't here, he would have taken me the very first night.

If I had not been here, she thought, it would have meant that I had refused to come with him to Harrehnal – I would have failed his trust, his hope, our pledge that whatever happened, we would remain by each other's side, like brother and sister.

She realised after a moment that Alys was trying to manipulate her: to make her imagine things that she knew would cause her pain.

She came to the conclusion that if it had been her husband speaking with her, she would have done the same thing: she would have planted doubts in him.

She would convince him that his wife would sooner or later give herself to his mother's brother and betray him anyway, and that he could have her, right here, right now.

Drop by drop, she would let the poison into his mind and heart.

She had to be wiser than she was, to believe what was real, not the visions she wanted her to imagine inside her head.

"I took this cloth out of your mouth because I was hoping we could have a conversation like two mature people. I can shove it back down your throat and let you die here. My husband, who might otherwise be cuddling his face to your chest right now, from my current observations doesn't care much about you or your fate. As you yourself rightly noticed, I am here."

Alys looked at her for a long time in silence, as if wondering what to make of her words.

"You don't resemble him at all. Your father. But the resemblance to your mother is not in you either. As if you were not their child." She replied finally.

For some reason what she said pleased her.

"I am my brother's sister. My husband's wife. A dragon rider. But I am afraid that, like you, I am no one's daughter. The names Rivers and Targaryen mean as much to me, though I'm sure if my lord-husband heard my words, he would burst with rage." She replied, turning her head towards the small window from behind which the sun shone.

Alys laughed at her words.

"You are what he wants you to be. He created you anew." The witch stated without thinking, and she, for some reason, smiled.

"Yes. Although violently, he gave my life meaning. Had it not been for him, I would never have tamed my dragon. I would not have experienced the deep and mysterious feeling that fills my whole heart." She confessed finally.

The woman sighed heavily, twisting in her seat, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Men fail us all the time, and yet we still put our hope in them."

She nodded at her words.

"I'll ask again. Blue holly. Was that your gift to my father or to us?" She continued, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye.

Alys looked at her, a smile on her lips that only pretended to be cheerful.

"For all of you. As I said, Daemon didn't even notice them. His fiery temper did not allow him to connect what hung over his head with the nightmares and visions that haunted him day and night. They haunt you too. What do you see?" She asked, changing her tone of voice, looking at her in a way from which an unpleasant shiver ran down her spine.

She was silent for a long moment, wondering if she should tell her.

"I see my husband drowning. He grasps my hand, but I am unable to pull him out of the water." She whispered.

The Witch of Harrenhal looked at her with piercing gaze, wrinkling her brows, as if something in her words intrigued her, and then her eyes looked lower, at the height of her stomach.

"It is he who sends you these visions. Not me." She said softly.

Her hand involuntarily clamped down on the leather material at the height of her lower abdomen, her heart beginning to pound like mad in her chest.

"Who?" She mumbled.

"Your son. He sees things. And you see them with him."

She lowered her gaze, looking at her stomach, stroking it with her hand, as if trying to reassure herself and the being deep inside her at the same time.

Had Helaena seen him because she was already with child at the time?

"What was my father dreaming about?" She muttered, looking at her uncertainly.

Alys grinned broadly, but her eyes remained blank and wide.

Dangerous.

"About you. About his wives. About his brother. Remorse is consuming him from the inside." She replied with amusement.

"What does he want?" She whispered, breathing with increasing difficulty.

"Forgiveness. He knows he doesn't deserve it, and that is why he will never be able to change."

She thought for a long moment about what she had said, involuntarily stroking her abdomen.

He knows he doesn't deserve it, and that is why he will never be able to change.

"Can I save him? My husband?" She asked finally, lifting her gaze to her.

Alys snorted.

"You can try. The question is, is it worth it? If they were both gone, you'd be free at last."

Alys couldn't or wouldn't tell her anything else, and she knew that torture in her case wouldn't do any good. She ordered food to be served to her, and then that her mouth would be stuffed and her hands would be tied again, knowing that she could not be trusted.

As she climbed the steps to the top of the fortress, she felt that her legs were shaking all over, her breath deep and uneven – Criston Cole froze at the sight of her and swallowed hard, shifting from foot to foot.

"My Lady. Something happened?" He asked, but she only shook her head, having the feeling that the corridor she was walking down was spinning around her.

As she stepped into her husband's chamber, she saw his silhouette standing by the window – he turned immediately upon hearing her footsteps, as if he had been waiting for her not for hours, but for days.

"And?" He asked.

"The herbs hung all over the fortress are her doing. They were already waiting here for my father and drove him to a state close to madness." She said, watching him carefully.

He was pale and his mouth had taken on the shape of a thin line, as if he wanted to say something – he nodded and looked out of the window again, his hands clenched into fists.

Only after a moment did she see that in one of them he held something that looked like a crumpled piece of parchment.

Was it a message from King's Landing?

"What's it?" She muttered, feeling her heart begin to pound hard in her chest.

She saw that he hesitated – he simultaneously wanted and didn't want to tell her, so he remained silent, as always finding this state safer.

As long as nothing was said, nothing was a foregone conclusion either.

"Aemond."

She wasn't sure she'd ever called him by his name outside of bed before – then, when she'd felt him deep inside her, it had been a moan of delight, a proof of her affection and devotion, of pure desire.

Now, however, it was an expression of who he was to her – she was not addressing him as husband, cousin, lover, prince, but as a man – a man who was dear to her.

He looked at her in a way she hadn't seen before – he was tense, the tip of his thumb scratching the cuticles around his fingernails in a subconscious, nervous reflex.

"Tell me."

His lip twitched, and then a single word left his throat.

"Daemon."

She swallowed hard, feeling an unpleasant clench in her stomach, a cold drop of sweat trickling down her back. Her husband tossed carelessly the piece of parchment he held in his hand onto the table, looking at it as if he had seen something disgusting.

"He challenged me."

"Us."

He looked at her grimly, as if her remark irritated him.

"This is my battle and my victory to achieve." He said dispassionately.

"This is my father and my revenge. Which makes it our cause to solve. Isn't it?" She asked coolly, feeling her hands involuntarily clench into fists.

They looked at each other for a moment in a silence full of tension, fighting with something that was happening deep inside them.

"He wants me to face him like a man. Alone." He said finally.

She was only able to snort at his words, the wide smile on her face proving that she couldn't believe what he was saying.

"Of course he wants you to come alone. He knows your nature, your pride, and he's counting you won't take me with you out of fear of his judgement. Me, your biggest negotiating card in a confrontation with him that could make him hesitate, make him lose confidence, make him make a mistake. This could be a battle of two dragons against one, and you think of your image in the eyes of others as one of those vain, conceited lords you so despise?" She asked, feeling that she was speaking louder and louder with every word – the expression on his face told her that he was enraged with the way she spoke to him, his posture erect and tense, his hands clenched.

Her words frustrated him, but he listened, so she continued on even when he turned away and began pacing around the room, clearly not knowing himself what he thought about it.

"You told me yourself that Helaena ordered you to keep me close. You abducted me from Runestone to turn me into a weapon against Daemon, and now, when the opportunity to face him comes, your pride is more important to you?" She asked, and he pressed his lips together as if her words made him uncomfortable.

"I didn't know at the time." He said regretfully, running his hand over his face in a gesture of helplessness, as if he himself did not believe he had said it.

"You didn't know what?" She asked dryly, completely without strength.

"I didn't plan…this." He muttered, pointing at her with his hand as if trying to show her what he meant.

And suddenly she understood.

He hadn't planned for what they had become to each other, the closeness that had brought them together, the bond that was out of his control.

"This is what keeps me here, fighting for your cause." She said with pain.

"If he says he regrets everything. That he will be the kind of father to you that you have always wanted him to be. How can I be sure you won't flee with him?" He asked.

She stared at him dully, slowly understanding how deep his suspicion ran, how fragile and volatile his trust in her was despite the fact that she had never given him reason to doubt her.

"Do you think it would have made a difference? That a few of his empty words would make me abandon someone who gave me a reason to live? That I would run away with a stranger for whom my person has so far represented no value?" She asked in a breaking voice, feeling a growing panic rising inside her.

"We crave the love of our parents no matter how much they hurt us. That's just the way we are." He said lowly, as if he were stating some known, universal truth.

"Speak for yourself." She hissed coldly, exasperated and embittered. "If your trust in me is dependent on your mood, it means that our marriage is a mere fiction without foundation, and I remain your slave. You may command me as your prisoner to remain in Harrenhal for fear of my desertion, but do not count on me continuing to warm your bed."

Her feet carried her to the door herself – it seemed to her that her words and behaviour had shocked him so much that he was unable to get anything out, much less stop her.

Never before had she so clearly and firmly shown him her displeasure and disobedience.

After all she had done for him, all she had sacrificed for him, how could he still look at her as if she were his enemy, someone who could stab him in the back?

On the one hand, she understood his fears, that surely his outspoken tongue and what he said were expressions of his terror and uncertainty, of how he feared that the person he had allowed to get close to him could decide the fate of his war.

On the other hand, her every breath and deed was proof of her bravery and devotion, her fidelity, and he, seeing this, allowed himself to be blinded by a childish conviction that if he did not risk her betrayal, he would not be disappointed if it actually happened.

Her husband didn't go after her – she knew he was furious and, according to himself, was showing his power and dominance to her by doing so. She didn't care too much about that, instead thinking about how she could defeat her father.

Lying on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling of the wooden construction with her hand placed on her stomach, she found that the child growing in her womb, of which her cousin was not yet aware, might have been her advantage, if her father had any conscience.

On the other hand, Daemon himself had killed Aegon's innocent son, she reminded herself and sighed heavily, closing her eyes.

She knew that her presence could have made a difference.

She felt it.

But how?

Convinced that her cousin was still offended by her outburst, she wasn't particularly surprised that he hadn't come to her chamber during the night – she guessed that they would spend that time apart, and decided it would do them both good.

She shuddered when she heard a loud knock at her door – she thought at first that it was him, but after a moment she opened her eyes, half-sunk in sleep, reminding herself that, after all, if he had wanted to, he would have simply come inside.

"My Lady! My Lady, open the door! The matter is urgent." She heard Criston Cole's voice.

She rose quickly and ran to the door, opening it hurriedly – Ser Criston was pale, his gaze panicked.

"Our Prince set off for Vhagar's lair in full armour. Alone. Did he mention to you that he would be patrolling the skies tonight?" He asked, and she shook her head.

"No. Wait here. I'll go after him immediately."

Ser Criston and she, dressed in her leather riding attire, armed with bow and arrows, ran arm in arm down the worn stone steps of grim Harrenhal, conversing in between.

"Daemon? Gods, what drove him to such madness to try to face him alone?"

"You know him best, so you should be able to guess. His fucking pride. Like any man, he's a fool." She hissed with rage on the verge of crying, feeling that she only half understood what was happening around her.

"I will move after you. I will gather our army." He said, and she laughed out loud, seeing that, like her, he was not thinking logically.

"To be burned alive? This is a battle of dragons, not men. Pray that Rhaenyra does not attack you in our absence, for you will be completely defenceless." She said in a trembling voice, pulling on her leather gloves.

As soon as they left the gate of the fortress, she immediately jumped on her mare, Ser Criston's voice echoing behind her.

"May the Seven protect you!"

Even since she had met him, she knew that she was a better rider than her cousin – looking at his technique from the side, she knew that the horse was only an indirect form of travel for him, as he obviously considered his dragoness to be the highest and most important one. It was for this reason that he lacked the lightness and confidence in the delicate movements of the body that formed the bond between mount and its rider.

That's why she galloped between the hills faster than she had ever done in her life, breathing heavily, hoping to catch up with him.

After a moment, she noticed Vhagar's large silhouette lying on the ground, and then his – he was most likely preparing for the exertion of climbing onto her back in heavy armour. He stopped in mid-motion when he heard her horse and turned towards them, surprised.

She had never seen him in an armour before – apart from the helmet that lay beside his feet, his body was protected by polished steel gleaming in the moonlight. All of his snow-white hair was tied up with a black ribbon at the back of his head, and there was no eye patch on his face.

When she jumped down from her mare he simply stared at her, as if he didn't believe that she had followed him – he only made a move when she rushed at him and swung, intending to slap him across the face with all her strength – he grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, her body slammed into his.

"You fucking bastard! How dare you leave me behind!" She hissed in a breaking, childish voice, trying to free herself from his grasp.

His lips clung to hers in a sudden, aggressive act, as if he wanted to devour her – she moaned with rage and squealed as his arms locked her in an iron grip, as their heavy breaths mingled in the moist, sticky chaos of their tongues and teeth.

They took their faces in each other's hands – the steel of his armour was unpleasantly cold, but she didn't mind – her fingers sank into his soft hair with his loud grunt of pleasure, the tip of his slick tongue ran over her palate.

"My armour got unpleasantly tight. Right here." He gasped out in a trembling voice, rubbing the part of his armour against her lower abdomen, behind which his manhood hid.

She ran her hands over his cheeks, shaking her head, unable to sympathise with him now for such a trivial reason as lust.

"Take me with you." She mumbled, looking straight into his eyes – one alive, filled with passionate affection and pain, the other empty, dead, shining with an unnatural, sinister glow.

"I want you to live, even if I'm gone. Daemon, if he succeeds in defeating me, will not kill you. You will tell him that I forced you to marry me." He said softly, as if he was telling her a secret he had kept deep inside himself for a long time.

Her thumb ran over his sharply outlined jaw, making him close his eye, trying to focus on how pleasant and gentle her touch was.

"You promised me something then, under a starry sky, like the one spreading over our heads now. You said: tame a dragon, and your place will always be by my side. It was not to be my punishment, but my reward. So reward me, for my devotion, courage and faithfulness. Let me spend the night with you." She whispered.

He opened his eyelid and stared at her for a moment with his lips slightly parted, breathing hard, as if he couldn't believe what she was saying – she had the feeling that his healthy eye had glazed over from emotion, his hands wandering along her neck, to her cheeks and hair.

He kissed her again and that was his answer – she knew it and she could feel it in his sigh of relief, in his realisation that if he was heading for death, he would not face it alone.

They embraced like a pair of lovers, letting their lips, swollen with desire, to join again and again in a sweet, wet caress – the quiet clicks of their saliva and their ragged, loud breaths made her feel the sticky arousal between her thighs.

His hands were everywhere – on her ass, her waist, her back, her breasts and she knew that he regretted wearing his armour at the moment.

If it weren't for it, he would have fucked her here and now.

But he couldn't do it and they both knew it, so when he pulled away from her, he just pressed his forehead against hers, panting hard.

"– hāedar (little sister) –" He whispered.

For some reason, this word meant more to her than any declaration of love.

She smiled, and he pressed his lips together, as if something about the sight caused him pain – she wiped a tear from his eyelid with her thumb before it could run down his cheek, and he snuggled his face into her palm.

"– lēkia (big brother) –" She hummed sweetly, placing a warm, tender kiss on his cheek, from which he sighed softly.

"– promise not to leave my side –" He mumbled in a trembling voice, as if ashamed that he was afraid to die.

She nodded, pressing her nose into the smooth skin of his clean-shaven face.

"– I promise –"

[littlemelaninfics]

Surprise, Surprise

a/n: I had this mostly written in my drafts before Bi!Buck actually became canon and wanted to finish it, so enjoy <3 (18+ ONLY)

Warnings: pregnant reader, fluff (whoa! Cali writes fluff? Don’t get used to it 😉)

“Is y/n feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Because she looks - Well she looks a little-“

“Hot.” Maddie said.

“Yeah that,” Chim agreed while pointing to Maddie.

“Hot?” Buck asked furrowing his brow.

“As in sexy. Foxy. Hot!” Maddie said very bluntly that even had her husband looking at her. Athena and Hen scurried to the three at the kitchen island to join in,

“You guys talking about Y/n?” Hen asked.

“I don’t mean to be suggestive as I am a woman of class, but whatever you’re doing Buck, keep doing it,” Athena nodded as she raised her glass to the gals.

“It’s not that she wasn’t THAT before now, but we haven’t seen her in a while and she looks and even feels different. I can feel her vibe from here,” Hen said as she playfully grasped at the air in your direction.

“Uh, heh, yeah. I guess things are a little different,” Buck said while looking back at you sweetly,

“Uh, I mean, things are good! Great even! That’s why you guys are here. We wanted to see everyone in one room for once,” Buck smiled, “so glad you’re all here.” Buck sipped on his beer before his foot got stuck any further down his throat.

The get together was in full swing when you went and grabbed the extra bag of ice from the freezer. Buck saw you out of the corner of his eye and practically flew out of his pants rushing over to you. Eddie saw the interaction from across the room and squinted his eyebrows in his chismoso ways. He migrated to the group by the counter with a full on detective look on his face,

“Y’all saw that, right?”

“You mean the way Buck Scooby-Doo’ed his way out of his seat to help a grown woman carry 10 pounds of ice? Yeah.” Hen confirmed. All heads turned to Eddie waiting for an explanation.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“You’re his best friend,” Maddie said matter of factly.

“You’re his sister,” Eddie mocked back.

“I mean it would explain the changes we all see,” Hen shrugged her shoulders.

“The glowing skin, thicker hair, filled out in the appropriate places…” Athena drifted off.

“The cravings, the mood swings, the crying…” Chimney chimed in. Now all heads swifted his way,

“I saw her last Thursday-

“Chimney!”

“Dude!”

“What!? I wasn’t paying attention to anything except the safety and well being of my Jiyung. But it does make a little more sense now…”

They stared on as Buck kissed you on your forehead and took the ice to the cooler. Bobby rounded the corner in the backyard and made his way over to you, giving you the biggest hug. The group realizes he’s pointing to Buck a lot and using grand gestures,

“Think he knows something?” Hen asked Athena who just looked on. Bobby went to head inside when he spotted the gathering at the counter and immediately stopped in his tracks to turn the other way.

“He knows!” Eddie said has he raced around the counter, beating Bobby to bathroom,

“Hey Cap! What’s up?”

“What’s up, Eddie?”

“Nothin. Just hangin out, you know,” he said with a big smile and deep eye contact trying to read his Captain.

Feeling awkward,

“Alright well, I’m gonna..” Bobby said as he motioned to the bathroom.

“Yeah, man! For sure! We’ll be right out here!” Eddie walked back to the island.

“He’s not coming out,” Chimney said, “Do you think that’s why everyone’s here? So they can tell us all?”

“I guess we’ll find out, but we can’t in good conscience harass Bobby into telling us,” Athena said as she was the first to walk off.

The party went on for another hour or so when Buck called the attention of everyone,

“Y/N and I would first like to start off by thanking you all for being here. It means a lot to us that we can see the people we love and care about all together and creating memories. That’s why today is so special. Uh, it has come to my attention that some of you may be guessing…” he said as he turned his attention to his family and they turned to Bobby who kept his eyes wide and trained forward,

“My wife and I have created our true dream life and forever team. We’ve been through so much together and have been privileged to have had all of you by our side along the way. Which is why we are-words can’t even describe this feeling, but we are beyond blessed to announce that we are expecting our first child-”

The party erupted in cheer and Bobby let out a sigh of relief before joining in on the applause. Buck never got to finish his speech before parents were coming up to you both and giving hugs.

“You knew?” Athena asked Bobby.

“For 3 weeks now. He said he needed to tell someone but knew it was too early to tell everyone.”

“Ohh, so in the end you just respecting Buck’s wishes?” She delivered with a playful side eye.

“Exactly,” he said leaning down to kiss her forehead and pull her in.

[ghosts-to-reid]

NeoGothic

A/N: First time writing for CM and Spencer so I’m still finding my footing. This will be the start of a series and will later include angst and smut. 18+

Part 2 / Bibliography

Summary: Receptionist at the BAU by day, Gothic Literature student by night. You are asked to consult on a case with the team, leading to you getting closer to the resident boy genius of the FBI. Going with the flow of the butterflies, you’re not sure where you’ll be taken when you accept the offer to consult on a case with Gothic themes.

When you applied to this random 9-5 admin job with the fbi, you weren’t particularly prepared for what awaited you. The job was a mix of different duties, filling case files for agents, passing on messages, answering the phone, kind of like a receptionist. However, you weren’t prepared to be filing away files for murders so horrific you couldn’t even imagine. The floor you were assigned contained the BAU, and as expected you were often face to face with the grim reminders of the horrors of humanity.

At university, the nature of humanity was something you often debated with your cohort. The why, who, where, when, and how was seen as key understanding to the nature of humanity, particularly the humanity of those who are fictional. See, you were a literature graduate, studying her masters during the evenings while trying to keep her head afloat and pay rent, hence the ‘random’ admin job that fit into your schedule perfectly. There was an adult mundanity in the fact you worked in the fbi that felt secure, that allowed you to study your passion with the knowledge that you had a job that supported that, and was a safety net if writing doesn’t work out. The role was easy, you weren’t particularly privy to inprotant information, but that wasn’t a problem, what you did hear was fascinating. In your time studying, you aquired a taste for gothic literature, and found it fascinating the new views gained after an overheard conversation from the team after their return from a case. Your understanding and insight of psychoanalysis in class has been applauded by your professor many times, and may or may not have earned you a few extra points on assignments when you throw in a fact overheard by the water cooler. The best thing about the job? It was never boring, there was always something new going on to observe.

Considering you’re not an agent, you communicated mainly with JJ, Penelope, and Hotch. Often having short interactions with Hotch, handing him messages or files that had been left at your desk for him, you were closer to the two blondes. JJ, as former media liaison, had trained you in some aspects for your role, an example being reporters finding the phone numbers of desk staff and asking them for intel, she taught you how to shut it right down. Over time, you exchanged pleasantries, and became friends. She would ask about how class was going, discuss weekend plans with you, often telling you to call her in any emergencies in her maternal tone. It was nice having a friend like her, when you moved to Virginia, it was on your own, your parents had passed and you had worked hard to earn enough money to move for college. Sure, it was a few years delayed but you weren’t going to college to party. So, JJs maternity towards you was welcomed. Penelope, however, befriended you almost instantly, or more likely decided to befriend you before you even got there.

As you arrived on your first day, satchel slung on your shoulder loosely, she greeted you at the elevator doors. A bright, bouncy, and very pink woman grinned at you and grabbed your hands before speaking frantically

“Hello there angel! It is so nice to meet you my name is Penelope and I am so excited to finally meet you! I’m so so sorry but I did do an extensive background search on you however it was with the best of intentions and you seem so so so lovely and I’m excited to have you here-“ she rambled on, making you almost dizzy, you kept your eyes trained on her and smiled back, giggling to yourself at her energy. Any first day nerves long forgotten.

“That’s okay!” You chuckled “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you Penelope.”

She took your hand and shook it excitedly

“You will love it here my love, I saw that you’re still a student, what are you studying, are you hoping to join the bay someday ebvause you know I have contacts” she winked as she lead you through the bullpen. A few people stopped to watch as the women lead you through, offering a small smile or wave, you assumed they knew Penelope and that this was fairly common. She lead you to a desk tucked away near an office with a plaque that read ‘Agent Hotchner’. A stern looking man emerged and joined Penelope and you.

“This is Hotch, he’s the head of the team!” Penelope introduced eagerly, Hotch reached a hand forward to shake yours with a small smile which you returned.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“I trust that Penelope has already told you everything you need to know” he glanced to the blonde woman who had already filled you in on the walk over “You know what to do, yes?”

You nodded, having completed your training for the job prior to starting, you were confident. Penelope offered yo grab you a cup of coffee, which you obliged with a smile, and began to unpack you satchel. The desk was nice, nicer than any ikea flat pack you had anyway. Making it your own was easy and when Penelope returned to drop your coffee and offering to lunch with you in her ‘bat cave’ she left you to your own devices.

Suddenly, this had become very daunting. There were already a ton of emails waiting for you, as well as files that needed to be dropped off. Picking your slight technophobe side however, you pick up the pile of Manila files and begin to read the labels for agents names. Luckily for you, name placards seemed to be a big trend around this office. Separating the files for each agent before making your way around the desks. Each agent offering you a small thanks, some introducing themselves, others just grunting in acknowledgment. Finally, you made your way to the last agent, a thin man with shaggy curls. His eyes were furrowed with concentration as he scribbled quickly onto a note pad, you gently placed the remaining folders on the end of his desk hoping not to disturb him, when his head snaps up.

“Oh! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you!” But he shook his head

“It’s no problem. Thank you. You’re new, right?”

You nodded “started about… 15 minutes ago?”

“13 minutes 53 seconds ago.” He corrected, caught of guard you stammered slightly to respond, which made him flustered too “not that I was counting! I just, notice these things!” There was a beat “I’m Spencer by the way.”

“I know. I read the name on the file” you smiled, now he was stammering “I’m y/n.”

He returned the small smile awkwardly after a moment and nods, you wave him goodbye before returning to your desk.

Since that, your interactions with Spencer have been short. Occasionally chatting in the kitchenette, catching eyes across the room and exchanging small smiles. You didn’t know much of his life, though you wanted to. But it was hard to get to know a man who spent half his time out of the office, so you often cherished any moments you did manage to talk.

This particular morning you were deep in thought. JJ seemed to notice when you came in, and came to your desk soon after you sat.

“What’s up?” She asked, sitting on the edge of your desk, breaking you out of your ponderous trance

“Oh it’s just exam season. I was trying to plan an essay in my head in the way here. I’m struggling to find a topic.” You admitted, feeling slightly awkward that you were thinking so scholastically this early in the morning. JJ quirked an eyebrow, intrigued.

“You do Literature right? The gothic? Isn’t that mostly ghost and ghouls, and damsels in castles with a candelabra?”

You shrugged “kind of, it’s a bit deeper than that. You see the gothic actually wasn’t a literary genre until about the 19th or 20th century. The term was actually originally used to describe a Germanic tribe, who sacked Rome. William of orange actually used them to justify his usurption of the throne during the glorious revolution. But what’s interesting is that it was used almost like a slur in the next centuries due to the revival of more classical styles like Roman and Greek-“ you cut yourself off before you can ramble more, by this point JJ’s face has dropped slightly in a mix of awe and a shock. You pull your lips into a right line and mutter a sheepish “sorry”

“You sound JUST like Reid” she chuckled, you flushed slightly, but unsure why, you tried to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your belly “But you know all of this and you’re struggling for a topic? How come?”

This you pondered for a minute. Before sighing and looking at her again sheepishly before asking “promise not to profile me?” Intrigued the blonde nodded “I kinda need to up my game because my professor really liked my last essay topic and I’m not sure how to top it… “you trailed, JJ nodded for you to continue, unsure of your apprehension

“What topic was it then?”

"…How Male and Female Cannibals differ from each other in modern literture… it was titled 'Desire Vs Destruction'… i got the highest grade I’ve ever gotren because of stuff I’ve learned here…"

That definitely took JJ back. She blinked at upu momentarily

"i was not expecting that… but thats definitely interesting…" she thought for a moment "You use psychoanalysis a lot?" you nodded "Well, im sure you’ll think of something, just wait until we have a case and there’s your inspiration.” JJ smiled and gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "worst comes to worst, ask Reid. He’ll have insight, I promise you, you’re a lot more a like than I ever realised.” And with that, she returned to her desk.

What did she mean you were were alike? He was essentially a walking super computer, an agent with multiple PHDs. Hell, he graduated from his second PHD by the time you even entered college, and he was only 3 years older than you. Your thoughts were interrupted by Hotch’s voice calling the team to the conference room. Watching as they all stood and gathered, your eyes trailed Spencer. As he walked, his sweater rode up slightly and gathered at his waist, allowing a slight bit of pink to peek through before he pulled it back down. Though, you still saw and blushed, shaking your head and trying to return to work.

45 minutes later the team emerged, most of the team exited, whilst JJ and Emily approached you.

“Y/N, we think we might need your insight on something.” JJ spoke, your gave her a surprised look, Emily continued for her

“You study gothic literature primarily in your degree, yes?” The woman spoke softly but direct, you’d never particularly conversed either her much before this. Confused, you simply nodded and followed them whilst they lead you to the conference room most of the team just left.

Inside you were greeted by Hotch and Spencer, who were stood next to a board. It was littered with pictures of bodies that made your eyes widen and turn quickly away, hiding In JJs shoulder. Spencer quickly pulled a shade down over the board as the group apologised

“Oh my god, were those people dead!” You squeaked, not asking really, you were aware what department you worked in. Hotch apologised once more before continuing.

“Apologies again, L/N. But I called you in here because I believe you may have some insight into our current case.” Slowly, you turned around again, confused once more, Spencer’s eyes were on you.

“Me? How?”

“This Unsub appears to be displaying a pattern pertaining to deaths synonymous with famous gothic works. So far he’s replicated the death of Lucy Westenra in Dracula, Carmilla the vampires death, And we believe he may begin to escalate. Your insight into the genre may help identify any patterns we may miss.”

A few beats passed. Looking around the room, all eyes were on you. Emily gave you a small pleading look, and JJ squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. Spencer’s eyes had never left you yet, when you look over to him, he gives you a small nod, encouraging you to say yes. You were sure that you weren’t as useful as you thought, but if they were the experts and they believed you could help, who were you to say no? With a deep breath of hesitation, you nod and take a seat.

Hotch briefs you on your role. No field work, of course, but you’ll join the team on the jet. He will give you temporary clearance to join them on scenes and other occasions you may be needed, your knowledge could mean you spot something the others don’t. Before you can agree, he explains the aspect that you forgot. The gore. Being a horror fan you were used to fake gore on screen, but real life was another story. The people on TV would go home, they’d see their family, and they’d continue on their lives, but the people in the photographs you saw wouldn’t. They’d never go home again. As if sensing your thoughts, Spencer spoke up from across from you.

“I know that it’s hard. It’s hard to stomach but, your insight might stop this from carrying on.” He paused thinking, looking to see if anyone would continue but they seemed to silently agree with him “Holding onto that thought. The thought that you’re helping someone truly and actively, then it helps you stay motivated past your own apprehensions.”

He seemed to know exactly what to say somehow. This man you barely knew, had somehow found the right words to say to get you on board, pensively you agreed. Hotch stood first.

“Ok we leave in an hour. Go home and pack a bag and meet the rest of the team at the airport. You’re doing a good thing, L/N.” As he left, JJ smiled and followed along with Emily. Leaving you alone, for the first time with the infamous Dr. Spencer Reid. He turned towards you to offer a small smile.

“I can give you a ride home if you like. I noticed you take the bus in, it’ll be quicker if I drive you.” He stated, surprising you

“Oh yeah that would be amazing thank you… but how did you know I took the bus?” You asked curiously, standing from your seat to stand nearer to him. He stammered for a second before collecting himself

“I noticed that you arrive mostly on time with the bus schedule, and the times you run late are in line with mornings with heavier traffic that causes the bus to take longer… I memorised the bus schedule when I first started.” He shyly looked to the floor, shuffling his feet, a beat passed before he looked up again to which you offer him a small reassuring smile. “Shall we?” He points toward the door, and you nod. You knew he was a genius with a quick mind but you’d never witnessed it first hand before.

On the drive, you were calm up until you had realised you agreed to leave the city in the same week you were supposed to be writing the essays you may have accidentally on purpose put off till deadline week.

“Shit” you gasp, quickly clamping your hand over your mouth before scrambling to email your professors, hoping this counts as extenuating circumstances, however in this process you had alerted the FBI’s resident genius next to you to your panic.

“Are you okay?” He laughs out, after your outburst had subsided slightly. Without looking up from your phone you spoke

“I’m knee deep in deadlines and I forgot and now I’ve got to go to… where are we going again?”

“Texas”

“Texas! And I haven’t started some and oh god!” Your head is in your hands as you groan. Reid chuckles a bit, before pulling up to your apartment building.

“I can always help if you’d like.” He spoke shyly, you peeked your head up slightly.

“How much do you know about gothic literature?”

“A fair amount. I’m a big fan of Ann Radcliffe’s writing, her essays are insightful” At the mention of Radcliffe you perked slightly, and when he said essays you sat up fully, more happy that someone outside of your cohort was aware of radcliffes essays.

“I could probably use some help with psychoanalysis actually…” you thought “have you read Rosemarys Baby or The Exorcist?”

“I’ve read both actually, a few times they’re some of my light halloween reads. I’m sure I can help, what exactly do you have in mind? The demonic aspects? I think I could give you some good insight, I’ve read Creeds book with the essay on the exorcist recently and I believe that you could make some good observations of abjection in motherhood in horror-“

As he rambled on you felt another small flutter. Hearing him discuss your passion with such ease and knowledge made you flush, he spoke almost as passionately as you. Maybe JJ was right about your similarities. Before you could think more on your new blossoming feelings, Spencer interrupted himself

“Oh we have to be there soon, we can talk about this later if you want? We can discuss on the jet and start planning tonight? During our downtime at the hotel possibly?”

You agree before you can conjure any more butterflies at the thought of being alone with Spencer. Moving quickly out of the car and up to your apartment, Spencer in tow.

You left Spencer in your living room whilst you packed a bag quickly. When you returned you found him eyeing your bookshelf.

“You have a great collection here… would you mind if I borrowed this?” He held up your well worn copy of dracula. It was annotated thoroughly, with more additions each time you reread, it’s well worn and well loved totem of your literary love.

“you should probably get a better copy, that ones nearly unreadable.” Making your way to your bookshelf, you search to find a nicer copy you had recently purchased from a second hand book store. But when you tried to hand it to Spencer he shook his head

“I’d actually enjoy reading your notes. If that’s okay.” Spencer looked at his shoes, a habit you noticed already, you couldn’t refuse him.

The car journey was filled with vivid conversations about Dracula, and how you thought it was unfair that Dracula was the iconic vampire when Carmilla was written first. The jet ride however jarred your nerves slightly. This was the first time you fully took in the crime scene photos, and you could see how the team quickly linked these to gothic novels. The victim who replicated Lucy Westenra had wounds that accurately depicted the characters turmoil from her turning, the (highly medically inaccurate) blood transfusions, and finally her vampiric death. The same can be said with the victim who replicated Carmilla, though she obviously didn’t have her own tomb, so the unsub dug her mother up instead. There were clear links to the novels, but something didn’t sit right with you.

“They’re all novels with vampiric elements…” you muttered.

“We noticed that too. We belive the unsub may be trying to chronologically work through the vampire cult novels.” Spencer’s eyes caught yours for a moment before you quickly moved to look at the folder once more.

“But no male victims?” You sifted through the crime scene photos once more, not entirely used to the sight still, but echoing Spencer’s words in your mind.

You’re helping people, and that’s what matters.

“No. Unsubs tend to stay to the same victimologies unless they’re forced to change, or they begin to deteriorate. This particular unsub is organised enough to plan the crimes in advance and execute, pun not intended, them without letting his urges take control.” Spencer told you, leaning over the table to point to a note in the file. He was close enough to you that you could smell his cologne, mixed with the comforting scent of patchouli and coffee. A slight blush crept up your cheek, that made you loose your train of thought, stuttering your way through your next sentence.

“There’s a possibility the unsub could be a woman. One part of the gothic allure is the liberalism that it embodies, and for women that’s inviting. The idea of the monsterous feminie is being widely discussed at the minute, it’s why there’s so many horror films with female monsters that we end up rooting for. It’s a way to juxtapose the patriarchal constraints in soceity. Think Jennifer’s body, Yellowjackets, even historical figures like Elizabeth Bathory are all stories about monsterous women yet, somehow in their own contexts, we root for them. It could be possible that this unsub is a woman trying to take control, after someone wronged her. She could feel vindicated in her actions and see them as an expression of the monsterous feminine, and a man wouldn’t be so accurate. The fact that these are iconic monstrous women who were struck down by men could be symbolic of that anger she feels. The victim replicating Westenra had 4 different blood types present in her system, the character had 4 transfusions in the book. Her entire death is perfectly replicated, as described. They even sent her garlic flowers, like a warning.” After you were done you had noticed that everyone on the jet was staring at you. Glancing around you, started to feel that little blush that Spencer had induced, creep into a slightly brighter red of embarrassment. Did you do something wrong?

After a beat, Rossi spoke up.

“That’s some very insightful information, kid.” He looked around the jet, the whole team chimed in in agreement.

“Where did you learn that?” Emily spoke up with an aghast smile

With a relieved smile, your face began to cool down slightly and you, albeit sheepishly, admitted that you overhear them occasionally and have a tendency to research theories they mention, and that you may or may not have read Rossi’s books. The fact that you apply psychoanalysis to literature more often than not. They all seemed impressed

“Watch out guys, I think we’ve found a future profiler.” Derek spoke up from the row behind Spencer “Ever thought about going through the academy?”

“I don’t think I really have the qualifications to join you guys. I just like to read.”

“I reckon you could surprise yourself, baby girl.” Derek flashed a smile before sitting back in his seat. JJ gave you a proud smile before she turned back to continue her conversation with Rossi. Slowly everyone turned back to what they were doing before, leaving you in pensive thought as you looked out of the window.

Profiling was alluring. It’s just analysis on people, and with enough knowledge you can read anyone. Your thoughts were interrupted by a small voice

“I think you’d be a good profiler.” He spoke softly, giving you a grin before returning to his discussion with Hotch, expanding on your thoughts.

The arrival to Texas was a whirlwind for you. The team landed, drove to the precinct, and were quickly dispatched onto different tasks. Hotch had paired you with Spencer to go over victimologies to find a pattern in the victims lives and how they line up to those in the novels. The victim replicating Carmilla was an older Lesbian woman, u and alluring by all accounts, fitting the personality of Carmilla for the most part. Meanwhile, the victim who replicates Lucy was a known flirt. not promiscuous in a modern sense, but with the victorian ideals of Dracula, the fact she was dating two men at once made her fit well enough into the role for the unsub. It seems he is trying to figure out who she wants to replicate next.

Finally, hours later the team regroups for the night at the hotel. It doesn’t go without a hitch however, as it turns out that since you were technically not meant to be here, there was a shortage of rooms and, as though god intended to make things awkward, you had to double up with someone. Before any discussion could be had, just assuming you’ll be paired with JJ, Spencer surprisingly speaks up.

“I’ll share with her.” Was all he said, shocking both you and the team, but Derek spoke up

“Pretty boy trying to make a move on our junior profiler?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows at Soem et who was growing increasingly red.

“No- No that not what- no I mean we were goin- we were going to work- work on her assignment together.” He coughed and readjusted his posture, seeing him flustered like this made you smile “it’s logical if we share a room then we won’t be disturbing anyone travelling between rooms”

The team shared a look you couldn’t read, before JJ asked if you were okay with that, you nodded, you were honestly too tired and slightly overwhelmed and honestly? A bed is a bed, and you were absolutely going to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep once you got to the room. So it was decided, and it wasn’t until you got to the room it dawned on you.

You’re sharing a room with a work acquaintance, albeit a cute one, and you never questioned the bed situation. Entering the room you were greeted by your worry, and that was the lone bed in the enter of the room. You looked up to Spencer to assess his facial expression, he seemed to have forgotten to question the bed situation too. You started

“I can take the couch-“

“We can share” Spencer interrupted. Looking around the room. “It’s logical and hygienic, with the amount of germs on a hotel floor would get us both a lot sicker than any off of a human.” He cleared his throat, almost trying to convince himself. You simply nodded and put your things down and preparing for bed.

Half an hour later you were sat, crossed legged, on one side of the hotel bed whilst Spencer showered. You tried not to think about it and tried to focus on the paper you were reading.

Sure, you knew he was cute. That was just obvious. But you’d never really interacted before today, not in any meaningful way at least. Yet here you are, waiting for him to finish showering whilst you sit in bed. It was strangely domestic, but you shouldn’t dwell on the thought of making a nice life with Spencer Reid. He is a collegue. Without you noticing, Spencer had finished in the shower and had emerged, dressed in plaid pants and an oversized MIT shirt. You looked up from your screen to him as he made his way to the other side of the bed. He sat with his back against the headboard and looked over your shoulder.

“That’s a good read, I read that last week actually.” He broke the silence between the two and you shot him a smile

“I’m really enjoying it… do you want to read it together?” You weren’t sure if that was a normal thing to ask anyone, you know people read books out loud to each other but reading an authors essay on Abject womanhood off of a laptop screen didn’t seem particularly as appealing. Spencer however nodded, and you shifted to be closer to his side. The tension palpable between you both

“Is this okay” you asked quietly. Your thighs were pressed together, laptop balanced between. Your arms were pushed together awkwardly and Spencer shifted. Unexpectedly, he wrapped the arm closest to you around your shoulder. This took you by surprise, taking your breath away momentarily and reawakening those pesky butterflies again. Somehow you managed to stutter out a yes before you continued to read. Eventually you both relaxed more into each others touch, loosing yourself in the words of the essay. You hadn’t realised that Spencer wasn’t reading, but looking down at you, watching how your eyes flicker between words between your eyelashes, and the small pout of concentration on your lips as you tried to take in the information. His long fingers were slowly tracing delicate lines on your skin, causing goosebumps to form in their path.

Eventually, you finished the essay but hesitated to shut the laptop. Your eyes lingered on the final paragraph, hoping to stay in his touch longer, yet you had to admit defeat, finally closing the laptop and shift slightly up right. Spencer’s arm lingered for a moment before he half heartedly moved it behind you. There was a silence as you both let the tension of what had just occurred sink in. Surprisingly, it was Spencer who broke the silence once more.

“You know many animals cuddle at night for safety, otters hold hands so they don’t drift away from each other.” He trailed, you quirked a brow at him, probing him to continue silently “what- what I’m saying is… if you want we- we can stay. Like this tonight… only if you want!” He couldn’t look at you properly, looking mainly anywhere but your face. Your heart was beating so fast you weren’t sure how to reply, so silently you just nodded. Spencer let out a small relieved breath before moving to lift the covers over you both, and opens his arms to let you in. You oblige gingerly, and slowly he wraps his arms around you. There’s silence as you both settle into each others breathing in the dark.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah Spencer?”

“Do you… think that maybe we could do this more?” His question caught you off guard. You lifted your head to try and make out his features in the dark, he was already looking down at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Can we… do this more?” He squeezed you against him to emphasise his thoughts, he meant cuddle. Slightly surprised you cocked your head to side.

“Do you not do this a lot?” Curiosity overcame you as you detached his eyes in the dark. There was a sadness that was palpable even through the darkness.

“No. I don’t really like people touching me” you try to move away, thinking you may have overstepped but he simply holds you against his chest tighter. “But I like this.” He mumbled into your hair.

Unsure how to process this, you simply nodded. Sometimes people need hugs and, you knew from JJ that Spencer was someone you could trust. So you allowed yourself to melt into his touch for tonight.

“Of course Spencer.” You muttered into his shirt before drifting off into the deep sleep you predicted, yet it wasn’t so dreamless.

Part 2 soon.

[brainddeadd]

luke pinning after quinn’s best friends and she always thought it was just a little crush he would get over but after years she finally believes him and gets his chance

Just a Little Crush

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

Quinn Hughes' best friend had always been off-limits to Luke Hughes. Not because Quinn explicitly said so, but because she was older, cooler, and saw him as nothing more than the kid brother. For as long as Luke could remember, he had a crush on her — one he tried to play off casually in front of Quinn, even as his feelings for her deepened over the years.

At first, she thought it was just a phase. A teenage thing. She’d laugh it off every time Luke would try to flirt, ruffling his hair like he was still that lanky kid hanging around Quinn’s friends at summer barbecues. "You're cute, Luke," she’d say with a smile that both melted his heart and frustrated him endlessly. "But you’ll grow out of it."

But Luke didn’t grow out of it.

In fact, as he grew older — taller, broader, more confident — his feelings for her only seemed to solidify. She noticed, too. It became harder to dismiss his lingering glances, the subtle touches that sent sparks up her arm, or the way he looked at her as if she was the only person in the room.

She tried to tell herself it was still just a crush. That Luke was young and still figuring out what he wanted. But the problem was that Luke knew exactly what he wanted. And it was her.

---

She paced around the lake house living room, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Quinn sat on the couch, watching her with a mix of amusement and confusion. “Okay,” he finally said, setting down his beer. “What’s going on? You’ve been weird all night.”

She stopped pacing, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “I need to talk to you about something,” she blurted out, anxiety lacing her voice. “And you might hate me for it.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this. “Alright...”

She exhaled deeply, sitting down on the armrest of the chair across from him. “It’s about Luke.”

Quinn’s face didn’t change, but there was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. “Okay.”

“I think...” She hesitated, running her hands through her hair. “I think I have feelings for him.”

Quinn blinked, processing her words, and to her surprise, he didn’t look angry or shocked. If anything, there was a flicker of something like... relief?

“For how long?” he asked calmly.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater. “I always thought it was just a crush he had — you know, something he’d get over. But he didn’t. And somewhere along the way, I guess I realized... I didn’t want him to.”

Quinn leaned back into the couch, his expression unreadable. She felt her heart pounding in her chest, waiting for him to say something — anything. “Quinn, I never meant for this to happen,” she whispered, guilt creeping into her voice. “If you’re upset—”

“I’m not upset,” Quinn interrupted, and his tone was surprisingly soft.

She froze. “You’re not?”

Quinn shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Honestly, I kinda saw this coming.”

Her eyes widened. “You knew?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. “I mean, come on. Luke’s been into you for years. And I know my brother. When he wants something, he doesn’t back down.”

She stared at him, stunned. “But... I thought you’d hate it. I thought you wouldn’t want me and Luke—”

Quinn shook his head again, cutting her off. “If it was anyone else, maybe. But it’s Luke. And I know how he feels about you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look, you’re one of my best friends, and if my little brother is lucky enough to end up with you? I couldn’t ask for more.”

Her throat tightened with emotion. “Quinn... are you sure?”

He smiled, genuinely this time. “Yeah. I’m happy it’s him. He’s a good guy.”

She let out a shaky breath, the weight of her fear and guilt lifting off her shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered, feeling tears prick at her eyes.

Quinn stood, pulling her into a quick hug. “Just... don’t make me hear about any gross relationship stuff, alright?” he teased, making her laugh through the lump in her throat.

“I promise,” she said, wiping her eyes.

As Quinn pulled back, he gave her a reassuring nod. “Go get him,” he said with a grin.

And for the first time, she knew there was nothing holding her back.

---

It all came to a head one night during the offseason, at another one of Quinn’s get-togethers at the lake house. The evening air was warm, filled with the sound of laughter and clinking bottles. She had wandered out to the dock for some air, watching the water shimmer under the moonlight, when she felt someone step beside her.

“Hey,” Luke’s deep voice broke through the quiet.

She glanced up, a little startled. He wasn’t the scrawny kid she remembered. He stood tall now, broad shoulders brushing hers, dark eyes unwavering as they locked onto hers.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, feeling an odd flutter in her chest she didn’t want to acknowledge.

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, until Luke finally spoke again. “You know... I meant everything I’ve ever said.”

She tilted her head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“All those times I told you I liked you.” His gaze was intense, and there was no trace of the playful boy she used to know. “I wasn’t just messing around.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Luke...” she started, her voice barely a whisper.

“I’ve been waiting,” he interrupted gently, stepping closer. “For years. I know you thought it was just some crush, but it’s not. It never was.”

Her breath hitched as his hand brushed hers, fingers curling slightly, testing the waters. “You could’ve moved on,” she whispered, unsure whether it was a statement or a question.

“I didn’t want anyone else,” Luke admitted simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And just like that, the walls she’d built around her heart crumbled. Years of dismissing his feelings, convincing herself it was nothing, all came crashing down as the realization hit her — Luke had been serious all along.

She bit her lip, fighting the nervous flutter in her chest. “So... what now?”

Luke smiled, slow and certain. “You give me a chance.”

And this time, she didn’t brush him off. Instead, she took his hand, lacing her fingers with his. Maybe it had taken her too long to believe him. But standing there under the moonlight, she knew one thing for sure — she wasn’t going to waste any more time.

[fiction-is-life]

Calling Out to You

Summary: You reconnect with an old friend during the Season, but the young Viscount is not the same as the boy you grew up with.  Requested by @junevoidzombie​

Warnings: Description of injuries, minor character death, period misogyny, Anthony being difficult

~

“Help!” you called, starting to panic as the evening air grew cooler and the forest grew dimmer.  You sniffled and wiped your nose on the sleeve of your dress; your mama was going to be so angry, but the dress was ruined now anyways.  “Is anybody out here?” you cried.

You heard a twig snapping in the distance, and your head snapped up.  You let out a pitiful hiccup, but you finally stopped your incessant blubbering.  You waited a few more moments, hoping the sound would come closer, but it didn’t.  It must have been an animal, you thought.  

“Who’s there?” a voice called.  It didn’t sound particularly friendly, but any help was better than staying out here.  

“My name is (Y/N)!” you called back.  “I tripped and now I fear I have sprained my ankle.”

“Hold on.  I shall be there in a moment, miss,” the voice called back, this time slightly closer.  

In less than a minute, a figure started to take form in the growing darkness.  As he grew closer, you realized that he was younger than you were expecting - perhaps only three years older than yourself.  He had the most beautiful dark hair and eyes, though, and you became conscious of the horrible disarray you were currently in. 

He knelt beside you.  “I know you said your ankle is injured; is there any way you think you can stand on it, with my assistance?”

You shook your head.  “I have already tried, sir.”

“Anthony,” he interrupted.  He cleared his throat.  “You must call me Anthony, miss.”

Your face lit up with a smile.  “Then you must call me (Y/N), Anthony.  My family just moved here from Hertfordshire.  We now live at Turring Manor, and I was exploring the country when I fell.”

He smiled back shyly.  “Well, it would most likely be easier to carry you to my family’s home.  It is much closer than Turring Manor, and the sun is already setting.”

“That would be most appreciated, Anthony.  Thank you!” you replied eagerly.  

The next thing you knew, Anthony was lifting you off of the ground, being extra careful to not jostle your hurt leg too much.  Once you were off of the ground, however, Anthony looked at you while a blush crept across his cheeks.  “Um, it might be easier to walk if you put your arms around me as well.  I wouldn’t want your leg to pain you more than necessary,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed.  

“Very well,” you whispered.  You couldn’t help your own blush as you did as he asked you.  Once that was done, he set off in the direction he had come from.

~

“Anthony, there you are darling!  Wherever have you been?”  A very beautiful woman came down the steps as you approached the very impressive home.  It must be Anthony’s mother; the resemblance was uncanny.  

“I am sorry I am late, mother, but our new neighbor fell in our woods and could not walk home,” Anthony explained. 

The lady’s eyes finally fell on you and concern filled them.  “Oh, you poor thing,” she cried.  “Anthony, bring her up to the yellow bedchamber.  I shall have the maids draw a bath and bring her something to eat.”  

Anthony’s mother sprung into action, and before you knew it, you were being laid upon a soft bed and Anthony was being shooed out of the room.  After a luxurious bath, you were given a silk nightgown borrowed from one of Anthony’s sisters.  

Said sisters (at least two of them - you had heard there was at least one more) came to keep you company before it was time to go to bed.  You could tell you all would become fast friends although the two girls were as different as could be.  Daphne was content to stay and practice piano while Eloise was always ready for an adventure.  Life would certainly not be dull living so close to Aubrey Hall.

“So Anthony really carried you all the way from the woods because you fell?” Daphne questioned as you explained what had happened that day.

“Yes, he did.  I couldn’t be more grateful; my parents would have been worried sick if they had not heard from me,” you said.

Daphne sighed, a dreamy look taking over her features.  “That is so romantic.  Like a knight rescuing the princess in the stories papa tells us.  Right, Eloise?” Daphne gushed.

Eloise rolled her eyes at her older sister’s antics.  “Anthony is hardly a knight in shining armor, Daphne.  You are being silly,” Eloise retorted.

Seeing how a fight was about to break out, you said, “He may not be a knight of olde but he certainly rescued me today.”

Eloise and Daphne looked at each other, slow smiles growing on each of their faces, making you nervous.  “Do you love our brother, (Y/N)?” they squealed in unison.

“What?  Of course not!  We just met!” you protested, but the butterflies flying in your stomach told a different story.

~

“Anthony!  You and Benedict - and Colin if he can behave himself and not eat all the biscuits - must come to my tea party this afternoon,” Daphne decreed at the breakfast table.  Her proclamation was met with several groans and one small protest of “Hey!”

Anthony scowled at his younger sister.  “Tea parties are for girls, Daphne.  Besides, I have a shooting lesson this afternoon,” he said.

Daphne beamed despite the implied insult.  “No you don’t!  I already asked papa, and he has rescheduled your lesson.  He hopes to join us for a bit after his meeting with Lord Aberly,” she said primly.  Her eyes glimmered with a spark of mischief.  “(Y/N) shall also be there,” she added in a sing-song voice.

“Fine, we shall attend your tea party.”

“Oh, come on, Anthony!  Why did you have to accept for the both of us?”

~

“Are you excited for the new baby, Ant?” you asked as you strolled in Aubrey Hall’s garden.  

He shrugged, making his broadening shoulders fill his jacket even more.  He had changed so much in the year he had been away at university, but he was still the same Anthony, thank goodness.  “I suppose.  It is always nice to welcome a new sibling, but the novelty has worn off.  Each baby is just like the last,” he chuckled.

You slapped his arm playfully, giggling as well.  “How could you say that, Anthony?” you scolded.  “Are you going to think that of your own children as well?”

You thought you saw his eyes flicker over your form with a strange expression in them, but it must have been a trick of the light for when his eyes returned to yours they were his normal welcoming brown.  

“No, I shall probably become as tender-hearted as my father when each babe is welcomed.  And dote on my wife for bringing such a miracle into the world,” he replied, that funny trick of the light occurring again and making your stomach inexplicably flip.

~

His father knelt to gather flowers for his mother, prompting Anthony to do the same.  “I shall gather some for (Y/N).  She was just admiring these daffodils the other day,” he spoke as he used his pocket knife to cut the loveliest blooms.  “I believe I will do as you suggested and ask her -”  

A thump behind him interrupted him.  

“Father?  Father!”

~

“Papa has inherited a piece of land in Scotland.  We are leaving within the week to go there.”  You stood in the door of what was now Anthony’s study.  He looked so small and lost sitting there, his late father’s portrait above him.

He nodded his head briefly before looking back down at the papers before him that required his attention.  “I shall see you when you return then.  Safe travels,” he spoke in a clipped tone.

“You don’t understand.  We are renting out Turring Manor and moving to Scotland.”

His head snapped up at this, but his eyes were distant and cold, his jaw set.  There was a pregnant pause before he spoke, “Then I wish you all the best, Miss (Y/L/N).  May God be with you.”

His terse farewell cut you like a knife.  You swallowed the lump in your throat.  “And with you, Lord Bridgerton.”

  You fled the house before anyone could see your tears fall.

~

Anthony was in the middle of his set with Miss Sherwood when there was a commotion at the entrance to the ballroom.  He looked to see a family enter, but they were blocked from his seeing their faces.  Accepting defeat, he tipped the corners of his lips up in what Miss Sherwood would know as a fond smile as he resumed their dance, forgetting the interruption entirely as the dance came to an end. 

“Brother!  How was your dance with the lovely Miss Sherwood?” Benedict clapped him on the back and handed him a glass of punch as he joined him near the terrace doors.  

He sighed, letting his austere Viscount visage fade just enough for Benedict to see how tired his brother was.  “She is well-spoken and graceful.”  He looked away from his brother and out towards the crowd.  “She shall make a wonderful Viscountess.”

Benedict’s eyes softened but Anthony refused to look at him.  “Will that be enough for you, Brother?  A wife and a mother to your children?”

Anthony fixed a glare on Benedict that would have made a lesser man shrink back and admit defeat.  “Isn’t that the point of the institution?  I shall gain an heir and somebody to take care of my households while I provide her with a name and protection from material poverty.”

“Some might add love into that mission statement,” Benedict said with a hint of sarcasm.

Anthony paused, but his mind was more made up than ever.  “I gave that notion up a long time ago, Brother.  Love brings nothing but heartache,” he spoke, his voice devoid of any emotion.

The brother’s staring contest was broken by a familiar voice.  “Lord Bridgerton, Mr. Bridgerton.”

The tall, dark haired men bowed.  “Lady Danbury, how do you do?”  Benedict took on the lion’s share of the social niceties as Anthony still had that far off look in his eyes.  He was not attending to the conversation at all, but Lady Danbury did not grow offended at his slight.

“Very well, Mr. Bridgerton.  I wanted to introduce you both to someone.  Her family has just moved back from Scotland - just in time for the season,” Lady Danbury continued, bringing you forward.

“(Y/N)!” Benedict cried, grabbing your hand to place a kiss onto your glove.

Lady Danbury raised an eyebrow in surprise, but her eyes were calculating.  “So you two know each other?”

“Miss (Y/L/N)’s family used to be our neighbors.  We spent many a day together before they moved away,” Benedict explained.  You were glad for it as your tongue was tied.  

“That is wonderful.  Then you two can help me introduce Miss (Y/L/N) to some other members of the Ton,” Lady Danbury smiled but fixed her eagle gaze on Anthony who had broken out of his stupor enough to gaze open-mouthed at you.  “Her family would like to see her settled.”

Benedict’s easy smile flashed.  “That will not be so hard a task for one as lovely as you, Miss (Y/L/N).”

You smiled wryly.  “It may become a little more challenging when people hear this is by no means my first season out,” you spoke, with that familiar teasing lilt to your voice.

“Nonsense.”  Your head snapped up at the almost angry outburst from the Viscount.  He cleared his throat.  “Many men will find you to be all the more acceptable for your age,” he said.

You smiled and Anthony made the mistake of looking at you - really looking at you - this time.  “You are right, my lord.  Many bachelors will be looking to find a wife before they themselves enter their dotage,” you teased, making Benedict laugh.

Anthony could not recover himself fast enough  - perhaps tell you that were more beautiful than the day you left - before Benedict was offering you his hand and leading you towards the dance floor.

~

“Miss (Y/L/N), may I have your next set?” Anthony intercepted you the moment Benedict led you off the dance floor.  He was spinning his signet ring on his pinkie finger.

“Of course, my lord,” you spoke even as he was already grasping your hand and leading you back onto the floor.

You spent half of the set in silence.  You could tell even after all these years when Anthony needed time to think.  You focused on the steps of the waltz and actively tried to ignore how it felt to be in his arms.

“How was Scotland?” Anthony finally broke the silence.

You blinked, startled.  “It is a most beautiful country, my lord,” you replied.

He nodded.  “Were there no eligible gentlemen there?”

Your brow furrowed.  “Of course there were many,” you sputtered.

“Why did you not wed then?”  The interrogation continued.

Your nostrils flared with your temper.  “I do not believe that is any of your business, my lord,” you stated, a hint of anger behind your words.  “I could say the same for you.”

“Yes, but I am a man; it is different.”

You scoffed, drawing the attention of some onlookers.  “Yes, I suppose it is.  I am but a woman.  Therefore my only purpose is to wed and have babies.”  You stopped dancing and broke out of his grasp.  You stood with your fists clenched at your sides.  “I heard you when you were near the terrace, my lord.  I cannot countenance how much you have changed.”

He watched in equal parts anger and despair as you walked away from him and out the doors.

~

“Mama, what are these?”  You fingered the petals of the daffodils that had been arranged in a beautiful bouquet.

“They must be from a potential suitor who saw how gracefully you danced with Benedict last night,” she replied, still not daring to mention the scene you had caused when you had stormed away from Anthony.  “There is most likely a card in them, peach.”

There was indeed.  You opened it to find a familiar neat hand.

I remembered these were your favourites, is all it read.

You closed the card and slipped it into your pocket.  “They are just from Lord Bridgerton.  An apology for our row.”

You purposely did not meet your mother’s eye so as not to see the look of disappointment that overtook her features.

~

“Who is that walking with Lady Danbury?”

“That is Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict quickly informed the fair-haired earl he and Anthony had been walking with along with Miss Sherwood.  “Would you like me to introduce you both?  She is an old friend of our family.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Bridgerton, that would be delightful!” Miss Sherwood cried.  “Wouldn’t it be, Lord Bridgerton?”

Anthony nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line.  “Most delightful.”

You and Lady Danbury had already come upon the group, and you paused.  “Miss (Y/L/N), you must allow me to introduce my good friend Lord James Thatcher, the Earl of Wembey and Miss Sherwood of Bath.”

You curtsied politely to the both of them.  “It is a pleasure to meet you both,” you said smoothly, years of good breeding taking over as your mind reeled.  So this was the Miss Sherwood that he had spoken of.  

“Miss (Y/L/N), would you care to join me on a small boat ride on the lake?  It is the perfect weather for it,” Lord Wembey addressed you directly, startling you.  You could feel Lady Danbury’s gaze on you.

“That would be most lovely, my lord,” you spoke as you took his proffered arm.

~

“Lord Wembey has invited us to attend the theater tonight with him in his box.  Is that not lovely, my dear?” your mama crowed.  This would not be the first time the handsome earl had singled you out in his attentions.  They had become quite marked indeed.

“That is wonderful, mama,” you replied, not looking up from your needlework.  “Shall I wear the yellow silk, do you think?”  And the conversation turned back to fashion plates and fripperies.

~

The pall mall ball soared into the air - straight into the woods and definitely nowhere near the intended target.  You were never good at pall mall, but what you lacked in talent you made up for in enthusiasm.  And the annual tournament was no exception - especially since it was your first after returning.

“I suppose (Y/N) must return to the woods,” Eloise teased.  “Hopefully you do not need to rescue her this time, Anthony.”

“Rescue her?  Whatever do you mean, Miss Bridgerton?” Miss Sherwood asked.  

You and Anthony both opened your mouths to explain, but Benedict beat you to it.  “Many years ago, Miss (Y/L/N) was walking in our woods when she injured herself.  Luckily for her, though, Anthony was there to help her home.”

“Oh, how wonderful!  It was like fate brought you together,” Miss Sherwood gushed, just as Daphne had all those years ago.

Anthony cleared his throat and brushed his free hand down his pant leg, trying to dislodge an imaginary piece of lint.  “Yes, well, it was a very long time ago, and I am sure the memory has been distorted until it seems much loftier than it is,” he spoke, more harshly than he meant in his flustered state.  “Shall we play on?  I believe it was your turn, Miss Sherwood.”

~

“I have noticed Lord Wembey and (Y/N) are spending a great deal of time together, Brother,” Daphne spoke as she entered Anthony’s study.  

“Have they?  I have not really noticed,” Anthony spoke with a clenched jaw, his pen arrested in mid air where it dropped a rogue dot of ink on the otherwise pristine page.

Daphne tilted her head and pursed her lips - a look she had perfected from childhood.  “I find that hard to believe, Brother.  Everyone expects him to propose - perhaps even tonight at mama’s ball,” she said.  She huffed lightly as Anthony still did not look up from his work.  “And people are also wondering why you have not proposed to Miss Sherwood yet.”

Anthony finally set down his pen and looked at her.  “How are those two connected, Sister?” he ground out.

Daphne did not break eye contact.  “Some people are saying that you have not proposed to Miss Sherwood because you hold a tendre for (Y/N),” she explained.

“Why would I care about the words of gossips?”  Anthony growled.

Daphne leaned forward, her face set just as hard as his.  “You may not care, but if you do not fix this, you could inadvertently tarnish (Y/N)’s reputation and ruin her chances at an excellent match.”  

Daphne made her way back towards the corridor.  “Maybe think about that, Brother,” she said before she shut the door behind her.

~

You rode fast and hard, uncaring of anything but getting away.  You did not even care that the skies looked as if they would open up at any second and flood the ground beneath you.  It would only be too fitting for your mood.

Another one.

You had rejected another perfectly suitable gentleman.  

What was wrong with you?  Lord Wembey was everything you were looking for in a husband.  He was young, titled, wealthy beyond measure, kind hearted, well-read.  He could do with some darker hair, but that was beyond his control.

You drew your horse up short at that thought.  Were you seriously comparing Lord Wembey to Anthony - yes, for he was still Anthony in your thoughts - and finding Lord Wembey wanting?

You breathed heavily as that thought washed over you, and you wanted to scream.

As if your thoughts had summoned him, Anthony appeared on horseback.  He cut an even more impressive figure than he used to, but that was no wonder.  His eyes locked on you, and he turned his horse to meet yours.

And you fled.

You could feel him following you, his better knowledge of the ground and larger steed allowing him to gain ground rapidly.  You could feel the promised rain start to pummel your back, but you pushed your horse faster.  Eating up ground faster than you could see it as your vision was blurred with rain and tears.  

“(Y/N), watch out!” were the last words you heard before your body slammed into the ground.

~

You opened your eyes to see it was already light in your bedroom.  Your mother sat beside you.  “Mama?” you rasped, wincing at how it made your head ache.

The lines on your mother’s face smoothed as she looked at you, before promptly starting to sob.  “Oh, you are awake!  We thought we had lost you forever!”

You scrunched your forehead as you tried to sit up.  You were immediately assisted by two maids.  “What happened, mama?”

“Oh, you would have been lost without him!  Going out for a ride in horrific weather, what were you thinking?” your mother was working up into one of her fits of hysteria.

“Mama!” you broke her off.  “Lost without whom?”

“Oh, Anthony, of course!  He saw you get thrown from your horse, and he carried you all the way back on his.  He personally saw that the doctor was fetched, too, wonderful boy,” she gushed.

You fiddled with the comforter, unsure of what to say.  

There was a knock on the door. You turned your head to see Anthony standing there, fidgeting with his signet ring just as he did in the days immediately following his father’s death.

“I shall leave you two to have a moment of privacy,” your mother whispered as she stood.

You attempted to reach out to her, stop her, but she was too quick.  She beckoned the two maids to follow her but left the door open for propriety’s sake.  

Anthony did not move from his position near the door even after your mother vacated the room.  The air felt heavy, and you were finding it hard to breathe.  You smoothed the bedcovers although they were practically perfect.

“I am so relieved you are awake,” Anthony croaked, his voice raspy with disuse.

You steadfastly continued your study of the linens.  “I am told I have you to thank for that, my lord.”  You congratulated yourself on keeping your tone even.

“Will you stop that?” Anthony’s tone was sharp, and you finally looked at him fully.  His face was drawn, and it was clear he had not shaved in a few days.

“Stop what, my lord?” you asked, genuinely confused.

He walked towards your bed, his face red.  “Calling me that,” he practically spat.  

You scoffed, not believing he was truly acting so childish.  “Well, it is your title.  It would be improper for me not to -”

“Marry me, then.”

You must have hit your head harder than you thought for you were certainly hearing things.  “What?” you breathed.

Anthony knelt at your side and took your hand tenderly in his.  “Marry me, (Y/N), please,” he implored.  He shook his head.  “I should have asked you ten years ago, but I thought I could prevent my heart from breaking by not letting it be touched.”  His gaze fell on your joined hands.  He cleared his throat.  “I was a fool.  I disregarded the fact that it had already been stolen from me.”

His warm brown orbs found yours, and you felt your heart climb into your throat.  You took a rattling breath as your eyes stung with tears.

“Anthony…” you breathed.

No further words were needed as your lips joined in the kiss you had always been waiting for.

~

My Masterlist

[plush-rabbit]

Coffee and Fated Tragedies

Something cute about The Spot or something, but like before he became The Spot. Maybe I'll do something about him and his holes later

Word Count: 5K

A/N: I need him, like carnally. There’s like nothing about him and I need to get this off my chest before I like combust so¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-

You stand near a water cooler, watching the bubbles float to the top. Your cup has been empty for the past minute, and you consider taking the rest of your break outside. The fluorescent lights are making it difficult to stay awake, and the sterile air at Alchemax is burning your eyes. 

With a sigh, you reason to yourself that the short trip to the parking lot would waste the remainder of your break, and you’d have to walk back to your desk by the time you even stepped near the doors. You turn your head, and watch as a scientist turns the corner, taking slow and careful steps to make sure the obnoxious amount of files that he’s holding doesn’t tip over.

He slows down enough, taking a pause next to the water cooler, and with a peek around the files he spots you looking at the files with wide eyes. There’s a certain look in his eyes that has your neck burning.

“Um-” you clear your throat, placing the empty cup of water in the trash- “do you need any help?” 

His eyes scan you, giving you a quick run down, suspicion twisted into his features. “It’s fine- I'm fine,” he snaps, holding the file just a bit tighter, almost defensively. And as if the world were against him, the top half of the stack nearly spills over, before you hold onto it, steadying the stack once more. The tips of his ears flush into a deep hue of red, and you smile at him nervously. 

“I’m on my break,” you tell him. “It wouldn’t be a bother. Plus, I’m sure you would much prefer for the files to be in order rather than all er- out of order,” you reason. 

His eyes dart around the room, before finally letting out a sigh. “If you wouldn’t mind, then yes. I’d appreciate the help,” he says slowly, as if still can’t believe that he’s allowing someone else to hold such important paperwork. “Please and thank you,” he mumbles.

You smile, nodding your head, quickly grabbing halfway through the stack and holding it firmly in your hands. Having the files fall after offering assistance is the last thing that you need- especially after the scientist had such a tone in his voice.

Words stay stuck in your throat as you follow behind him without a sound. You’re sure you should be talking to him, but he isn't making conversation either. Plus, you aren’t entirely sure what you would talk to him about. The weather? You only felt it when you clocked in in the morning. Lunch? No, you’ve heard around that most scientists don’t even take their lunch these days- too busy with whatever has been going on these days. Your mouth pulls into a thin line. Truth be told, you want to ask about the files- you’re positive that it has something to do with whatever has ad the building in such a buzz. But you doubt he’d even tell you. 

“I apologize for making you waste your break on this,” he mumbles, giving you a quick glance over his shoulder. He makes eye contact with you briefly before he looks forward once again.

“Huh? Oh! That’s fine. It’s no worries, really. I was the one who offered after all,” you say hurriedly. He huffs and silence befalls the both of you once more, but you’re much too eager now after his words. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where are we delivering them to?”

“Dr. Octavius’s office. She said that she needs to review the recent ana-” he stops short and he straightens his back, clearing his throat- “experiment.”

“Oh,” you say. You don’t have the luxury of knowing the inner workings, and a part of you wishes that you did. You always were a bit of the nosey type. “Are you part of those experiments as well, um- I’m sorry I don’t believe that I asked for your name.”

“Johnathan. Ohnn. Dr. Ohnn,” he says, stumbling over his words.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Dr. Ohnn,” you say with a smile, stopping just behind him when he turns his head. 

“And you are?” There’s a tense layer laced into his words, but when you answer, he smiles slowly and nods to himself. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he mumbles. 

-

It's only been a few days since your encounter with the scientist and maybe it's because you've finally noticed him, that you notice him more and more. 

You see him in the cafeteria, surrounded by other scientists.

In the hallway, carrying a much more manageable stack of files that asking if he needs assistance would probably be offensive.

You see him peering into the different break rooms located on each floor, locking eyes with you for a moment, before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

He lingers in doorways, looking around and lifting his chin to peer over the crowd, trying to find someone. Sometimes, you’ll catch his eye and when you do, he looks away quickly and walks away.

A part of you thinks that maybe he’s waiting for you to approach him, but you can’t be too sure on that assumption. It is a nice thought to have though. 

It isn’t until your coworkers grab your bicep and whisper in your ear at how convenient it is that Dr. Ohnn appears where you are. There’s a smile that stretches across their face, and for a moment, you play along that the doctor might be interested in you. 

“Oh yeah, the cute and stalkerish scientist,” you say with a smile, placing a hand over your chest. “What a catch,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at the fits of giggles. 

Truth be told, you wouldn’t mind having said cute and stalkerish scientist be fond of you, but it probably isn’t that. It’s a nice thought to have, but you don’t fester on it for too long. He’s a scientist- one of the important ones around here, and you’re simply here for your paycheck and the benefits. 

-

You sit at your desk, typing and retyping emails, answering calls, and sneakily going on your phone when you can. For a moment, you think to yourself that maybe you should quit- live in the middle of nowhere, tough it out, but then your coworker drops off a pastry at the edge of your desk with a hasty “you’re welcome” and when taking a bite, the idea of living without the sweet baked good. 

A shadow crosses over your desk, and there’s a soft ‘click’ sound and you look up to see a cup of coffee placed on your desk, and over it stands the scientist who’s been not-so-secretly searching for you.

“Hello,” he greets you, his tongue tripping over your name. “I was wondering if you wanted a cup of coffee.” There’s a fiddly tone laced into his words, and it makes you smile.

He certainly is cute. 

“Hello Dr. Ohnn,” you greet. “Thanks for the coffee.” You grab the cup, and peer inside the cup. It’s half full. You glance up at him. “I don’t suppose you brought creamer or anything like that with you?” 

You see the apple in his throat bob as he gulps. “No,” he says, almost ashamed. “I uh- I didn’t know how you liked it and thought to play it safe with black. I apologize.”

“Would you like to walk with me to the breakroom?” You offer, standing up and grabbing at the cup. You grab at a napkin and cover the pastry, before taking a step away from your desk.

Instantaneously, he perks up. He smiles at you, taking a step back to allow you to walk with him. His forefinger and thumb pinch at the leg of his glasses, adjusting them so they sit properly on his face.

The walk is short, only light conversation about the weather and how the day has been going so far fills the air.

Thankfully, the break room is empty. You don’t think that Dr. Ohnn would like an audience when he’s with you.

You walk to the counter, and grab a pack of creamer and sugar. The dark coffee turns to a lighter version of itself. 

“So-” Dr. Ohnn rushes to your side when you start to speak- “what made you bring me a cup of coffee?” You stir in the contents and bring the rim of the cup to your lips, giving him the chance to speak.

“I wanted-” he trails off, and turns his head- “I just thought it would be nice to repay you. After you helped me with the files the other day.”

A smile graces your lips and he returns it, before looking away and clearing his throat. “Well thank you for the coffee, Dr. Ohnn. It was much appreciated.” 

“Johnathan,” he corrects. You tilt your head, confusion scrunching your brows. “You can call me Johnathan.”

“Oh,” you chirp. And realization dawns on you, as you smile. “Okay then. Thank you for the coffee, Johnathan.”

He nods curtly. “I just apologize that it wasn’t anything better than the break room coffee. I made sure to brew a fresh batch.” He shifts his weight nervously on each foot. “I’d have brought you some fancy coffee, or taken you somewhere but-” his face turns into a deep hue, and he pulls along the collar of his shirt. “I uh-  didn’t know your schedule or if you’d even want to go.” He lets the end of the sentence trail off into a rushed slur of words.

You dig your nails into the cup as the realization of what he wanted to do dawns on you.

The cup is placed down, and suddenly the room feels hot. “Oh! Really?” You unconsciously lean towards him, and he nods, looking away from you. "I’m flattered.” You can feel the tips of your ears burn. “I mean, if you’re not too busy after the end of the day, I’d love to get a cup of coffee with you.” You bite the inside of your cheeks before taking a risk. “Or we can get a bite to eat? Whatever you prefer of course.”

“Really?” He asks, a smile stretching across his face. “I’d love to do that. Either. We can definitely get something to eat.” 

“That’s great!” You exclaim, clapping your hands together. But you immediately retract. “Ah. I usually take the train to work, so if we can get something maybe close by? Like walking distance or-”

“I have a car,” he rushes. Your eyes widen and he straightens himself. “I can take us wherever you want to go. I don’t mind. I can drop you off at the station or at your home. Wherever you’d like.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” You ask, nerves making your stomach twist and turn.

“Not at all.” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t mind. Honest.”

Nodding your head, you smile. “Okay,” you tell him. “If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind, then we can go to whatever restaurant- so long as you pick it.”

“Okay,” he says, smiling widely at you. “I’ll meet you at your desk, after I clock out,” he says confidently, before smiling a bit more softly. “Is that alright with you?”

“It’s alright with me,” you confirm.

“Great. It’s a date.” There’s worry laced into his words at his sentence, and you can't help the grin that grows.

“It’s a date.” He smiles when you agree with him. You reach your hand over, pausing and about to retract. With his eyes on you, you decide to commit. You reach over and grab his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “I’ll see you later, Johnathan.” You give him another smile, before you wave goodbye, walking back to your desk with the coffee in your hand.

-

He sits down in front of you. After the rush of Spider-man- Spider-men, he reminds you- the building is in a panicked state. You’ve found some place to rest where the alarmed employees won’t peek through.

Your thumb ghosts over the red spot where the bagel had hit Johnthan. You click your tongue, frowning, and run your hand through his hair.

“Sorry about messing up your hair,” you mumble, running your fingers through the strands.

He shakes his head. “It’s okay.” He looks up, and your hands follow, curving down from the top of his head, down to cup his face. “Bagel had already messed it up.” He looks away from you, face growing warm under your palms.

“You took a hard hit.” He looks back down and you return to the top of his head, pinching away at any crumbs. “I forgot how strong Spider-man is.”

“Was,” he corrects.

You frown. “Is he not Spider-man?”

He murmurs something under his breath that you are unable to hear. “Not ours. It’s what I’m so busy with.” You choose not to respond, and he takes it as an invitation to continue further. “You saw me get hit with a bagel,” he groans. You smile softly even if he can’t see it.

You want to press further about whatever it is that he’s working on and why there are two Spider-men, but you know that it isn’t the time for that. You gulp and try to fix his hair, the once red spot, growing faint. Your mouth pulls into a thin line, and you take in a breath. 

With his head still down, you return to cup his face, lifting him up slightly. He turns his head, his nose and mouth pressing against your palm. You smile at him, and lower yourself, pressing a chaste kiss against the spot. His face flames up once more.

“I’m just happy it was a bagel and not an apple,” you tell him. “Come on,” you tell him, reaching down to grab at his hand, “I’m sure one of us is being looked for.” He squeezes your hand, and follows you quietly.

-

You sit beside him, the car playing a song from your playlist, and the air conditioner blowing a nice cool breeze to combat the warm air that is outside. Your legs are tucked underneath you, the drinks dotted in condensation as the two of you eat inside the car. 

Rain starts to pitter patter against the windshield and you turn your head to watch the drops collect. 

You turn back to Johnathan, watching as he eats his fries. He raises his brows at you. “Sorry to make you waste your gas,” you say, feeling just a bit bad about it, but not enough to lose your appetite. 

He shakes his head, quickly grabbing at your drink and taking a sip. You smile when he realizes that he grabbed the wrong drink. “No, no,” he comforts. “I like being with you. This is fine. Plus as a scientist, the pay is fine. As long as I have access to my bank account, I’m fine. There’s no need to worry about that type of stuff.” He reaches for your drink again, stopping short and sending you an apologetic smile, before grabbing at his own. He bites the tip of his straw, and takes a small sip before letting go. “If anything, I’m sorry that I took a drink from your soda.”

The rain collects, a storm furthering on, and you think you hear thunder somewhere. You two have flirted enough, been on enough dates to classify yourselves as “seeing each other” - whatever that means- when people ask, that it seems fine to take drinks from each other's straws. You know that what he did is an indirect kiss and you wonder if he knows that. 

You reach over, cupping your hands over his and tilting the drink towards you. You look at him, before returning your gaze to the drink and place your lips over the straw, taking a small sip. The taste of his drink rests heavy on your tongue, and you want more of it. 

“Now we’re even,” you say softly, letting go of his drink and returning to your side of the car.

His face flushes into a dark color, and his lips are parted open.

There’s a realization far off into your mind that he did realize what just transpired between the two of you and a soda.

Johnathan sets the drink down and adjusts his glasses, peering out the windshield where the rain washes down in waves. He turns back to you and reaches past the boundary that are the cupholders. His hands are warm as they cup your face, one reaches around, fingers curved over the back of your head, and the other holds you gently, letting you pull away if you were unsure about this, but you lean towards him.

Your heart beats against your chest, and you think that it’s going to bruise you, leave you battered and spill out, a bloody mess over his car. 

You’d really have to apologize then. 

The beating doesn’t stop- not when he’s pressing closer to you. It goes on, drumming inside of you, erratic and following the heaviness of the raindrops. It goes on as he kisses you, hands fumbling to keep the drinks steady when he pushes himself too close to you. He kisses fiercely, and desperately. His glasses press against your face, and you grab onto his shirt, twisting the fabric

The kiss deepens, and he pulls away for a breath of air, gasping for it as he presses pecks against the corner of your mouth. The cups be damned. You press yourself against him, your hands flat against his chest as you push him back, clambering across to sit on his lap.

His hands find themselves at your hips, and yours rest over his neck. He leans into your touch, and there’s a loud honk. You both startle, but he keeps kissing you, a hand leaving you to fumble with the seat. 

Thunder booms in the sky, and he bunches your shirt in his hand. 

The seat shoves back with full force, and you break away. You stare at each other with wide eyes, and you’re the first one laughing, wrapping your arms around him and giggling into his neck. Your heart still beats with a heavy pitter-patter. His laugh echoes in the car, and he holds you tightly. 

“I like your laugh,” you mumble into his neck. You press a kiss against him, and when you nuzzle into him, you can feel his pulse quicken.

“I like you,” he says tenderly. “A lot.”

You pull away, and his hands slip underneath your shirt, his hands burn against your skin as he holds your waist. “I like you a lot too.” You press a kiss against him. “Do you want to come back to my place?” Your hands move to cup his chest. “I’ll make it worth your while,” you tease, kissing along his jaw. Underneath you, he stiffens and you smile. “How ‘bout it Dr. Ohnn?” You press yourself against him, giving a soft roll of your hips. “Wanna continue this back at my place?” You fix his glasses, and smile as he stares at you with heavy-lidded eyes with  pupils blown-out.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “I’d-” and as if the universe were against the idea itself, his phone begins to ring. Quickly, you and him search for the phone, and just as abundantly as the tension had started, it ends. He grabs at his phone and clears his throat, giving you a smile before answering it. You can catch only snippets of the conversation, and you watch as his face falls, and he gives you a sad look. 

Disappointment makes your shoulders fall. Whatever was going to happen, isn’t. At least not tonight. Clumsily, and something a lot worse than the “walk of shame”, you move awkwardly off of him, careful to not touch the drinks, and to not hurt him. 

He finishes the conversation, just as you sit down. You turn to him, and wait for him to start. 

“I have to go. It’s about work,” he says pitifully. “I- I don’t know when- Maybe we can-” he stops himself short. “I’m sorry.” 

You smile, and close the gap between the two of you with another kiss. “‘T’s not your fault. Maybe we can pick this up again sometime.”

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully.

You nod. “Definitely.” You press another kiss against him. “I really do like you Johnathan.”

“And I really like you,” he mumbles, and your name sounds honeyed on his tongue. 

“Mind dropping me off at least?” You ask, not really looking forward to having to call for some taxi service of the sort.

“Of course,” he says. “Anything for you.”

-

There’s a tapping at your window. It’s soft at first, and you only noticed it due to the pattern behind it. You groan and turn over, grabbing at your phone and hiding under the covers. The screen is bright and blinds you for a moment before you read the time. 

The tapping at the window hurries and it’s far too late- or early depending how you look at it- to deal with whatever or whoever is behind the glass. You close your eyes, your stomach twisting into itself and hoping that after a few more knocks, whoever or whatever will just move on. 

Then it starts to bang, and you jump with a start, almost going to turn on your bedside lamp, but stopping yourself. Maybe you could trick whoever is behind the glass that you’re asleep or not home. 

You’re tempted to grab at the pocketknife that you have hidden somewhere in your bedside table. The knocking on your window grows relentless. Whoever is there is banging, and then it just stops. You hold your breath, slowly reaching your hand to grab at the knob to the drawer to blindly look for the knife while your gaze stays focused on the window. 

On the other side, the words are muffled, and soft, but you hear them. Your name is whispered again in a hushed tone, the knocking returning, begging for you to answer. Slowly, your hand returns to your side, and the bed creaks as you shift your weight. 

You recognize the voice. It’s him. 

“Johnathan?” You ask in a shaky voice, hoping that you’re right.

“Yes,” he says hurriedly. 

The blankets have twisted themselves around you, and you kick them off. As you shift and turn, the bed creaks. Light fills the room, a warm glow that has you wincing and moving towards the window.

“Give me a minute. Let me open the window.” Your hands fist at the curtain when he replies.

“No!” He shouts, and in a softer voice, he speaks again. “Don’t.”

Your hand returns to you, and you remember the rumor that was going on around Alchemax.

How Dr. Ohnn wasn’t- right. How he wasn’t human, or how he should have died. It was a joke around the office, as if whatever happened was humorous, but when someone asked, the joke died. 

He couldn’t be whatever it is that the others were describing him as.

“Johnathan?” You call out. He knocks against the window. “Are- You can come in. It’s okay,” you reassure him. 

“No,” he says again.

You frown, and fist your hands together, your nails digging into your palms. “Then I’m going to open the window.”

“Don’t.” He sounds scared.

“Johnathan.” Your voice is stern, at least that’s what you’re hoping for.

“This was a mistake,” he says. You’re sure that he’s talking to himself, but even so, you reply.

“You came here,” you hiss out, face burning with some type of emotion.

It’s silent, and you fear that he’s left. “I wasn’t thinking,” he says. “I just- I wanted to see you,” he mumbles.

Your shoulders slump. “I wanted to see you too.” It’s silent and you take a deep breath. “Please come in.” 

“Okay,” he finally concedes. Before you can make your way to open the window, his voice starts again. “But you don’t have to open the window. I can get in.”

A nervous laughter escapes your mouth before you can stop it. “Whatever you say.”

You look around, wondering what he’s going to do. Maybe he’ll walk through the door. Or appear in a vent. But then a black spot forms on the ceiling, and you watch as something white, and black spotted exits through the hole. And then all at once, a lump of whatever it was falls to your floor. 

It groans out in discomfort, and you watch as legs and arms straighten themselves out. Once upright, a man-shaped person- you aren’t entirely sure- is faced towards you. A black spot where a face should be stares at you.

The rumor was true. There’s a twisting in your stomach, and you yelp, pressing yourself against your headboard, and you immediately regret it, when he stiffens and moves closer to your bedroom door.

It’s Johnathan. 

He’s all skin and spots, standing far too tall in your bedroom.

“I’m sorry. I just- I wasn’t expecting-” you bite at your bottom lip- “spots. Do you-” You pause. Does he eat? Does he drink? He stands so awkwardly, shifting his weight, and it reminds you of him. It’s still him. “Do you want to sit down with me?” You pat the space next to you, the one on the bed that’s close to the wall. 

He must be feeling some type of way because he nods and walks over. He’s a mess of limbs, legs long and hands cup and twist at the bed sheets as he sits next to you. He still looks away from you. 

You missed him. You open your mouth to tell him just that, that you wanted to see him and were worried for him. 

“How have you been?” You bite the inside of your cheeks at the wrong words.

“What do you think?”

“I’ve missed you.” He looks at you, and you stare into the hole that place where his face once was. You wonder what expression he would make. You think he’d look surprised. “I quit Alchemax. There were cops and stuff and well thankfully I wasn’t a scientist so I was able to just leave. Cops still asked me some questions.”

“Where are you working now?”

“There’s this little library a few streets over-” you wave your hand in a vague direction- “pay’s all right, but I had some money saved up. I uh- might move. Get a smaller place, you know.”

“I think I’m not gonna have a place to live.”

“You can stay with me,” you say. “I’d like the company. You know, as long as you help pack and stuff. We- I can get your stuff from your place. You know, if the police haven’t taken anything as evidence.”

“Most of it has been taken.” He doesn’t explain further.

“I can get you some new clothes.” You peer at him, and you can’t help but just stare at him. “I’d uh- I’d have to measure you. Get you a scarf, or a hat. Maybe both,” you add.

“I can’t believe I’m in your bedroom and I look like this.”

You frown. “Yeah, well,” you trail off. You rest your head on a white part of him, your hand over his chest, fingertips just below a black spot. “I’m glad that you’re here. I was worried. I thought that- that something else had happened to you.”

“I’m sorry for making you worried.” You know that he means it.

“It’s okay.” You aren’t sure if you mean it. You worried yourself to tears. He grunts out a response, and you kiss at a white area on his shoulder. “Are you hungry?” You furrow your brows. “Can you eat?” 

“You wanna ask about the holes, right?” He says, and you nod. “Might as well get it out of the way,” he mutters.

“What are they?”

“Spots. I’m thinking about calling myself The Spot.” He turns to you, and you grab at a hand, rimming the edge of it with the pad of your forefinger. “What do you think?” He says your name, but stops short, when he realizes what you’re doing. “Oh.”

You pull away, and he grabs at your hand and brings it back. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Can you feel it?” You ask, returning to another spot.

He nods swiftly. “You can put your hand in it.” You look up at him and tilt your head curiously. “In my hole. You can put your hand in my hole.” You snort at the phrase, but take him up on his offer.

Your hand disappears, and you watch as it comes up on another spot of his body. You flex your hand, and it’s surreal, seeing it appear from somewhere else. 

“Woah,” you breathe out. “You’re so cool,” you mutter. 

“You think so?” He asks incredulously. 

“Mhm.” You nod slowly, pulling your hand partly out, watching as your fingers still peek out. “Super cool,” you mumble. You pull your hand out and you smile up at him. You turn your hand, seeing it fully intact, and you try to fight back a yawn, only to fail. “Are you tired?”

“I woke you up,” he says in a small voice.

“I’m glad that you did,” you say earnestly. “I’m happy that I got to see you.” You hold his hand in yours, and your fingertip goes along the white area of his body. “Do you want to spend the night?” You tighten your hand around his. “I want you to. I’d like you to get some rest.”

“You would?”

“Of course.”

“In your bed?”

You snort. “Of course, in my bed. It’d be fucked up if I gave you the couch or something.” You let go of his leg and slap his knee. “Come on, Johnathan. Get under the covers.” You grab at the furled up mess of blankets, straightening them over your body and his. He watches your every move, and keeps his face turned in your direction until the light clicks off and you can’t see him. You lay beside him, turning on your side, and resting your hand over his chest, careful to not let your hand dip into one of his holes. 

“Goodnight,” he says your name in a quiet voice, one of his hands clutching onto your forearm.

“Night Johnathan,” you whisper, pressing a kiss against him.

[littlemissshoei]

I WANNA BE YOURS

TABITO KARASU X READER

18+

⭑ CONTENT WARNING: FRIENDS TO LOVERS, BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND, READER IS EITA'S TWIN SISTER, "FORBIDDEN" ROMANCE, SLIGHT SLOWBURN, ANGST, CONFESSIONS, L BOMB, READER GETS CHEATED ON, COMFORT, INEXPERIENCED!READER, VOICE KINK, 69, MISSIONARY, GENTLE TO ROUGH, PRAISE, MARKING, DIRTY TALK, CREAM & THROATPIE, AFTERCARE (characters are aged up to 21.)

⭑

YOU WERE DOWNRIGHT PERFECT in his eyes. Everything about you was inexplicably captivating, to the point he was reminded of you through every single thing he did or saw. Be it the beautiful flowers with their sickeningly sweet aromas on a field, or the sunset that graced him each time he walked back home after practice. The first thing that popped into his mind was you, always had, ever since your very first meeting.

You two go way back, and with way back it means all the way to elementary school, where your brother — no one other than the infamous Eita Otoya — tried to hunt down any interested girl in the sandbox without success. Instead, he managed to hunt down a friend; Tabito Karasu.

While the white haired boy was slightly dissapointed with the lack of courted girls, he was happy enough to chitchat about something he enjoyed doing most, that being football. The two boys seemed to have similiar interest, and so, a rather peculiar friendship ended up blossoming on a beautiful summer day.

One of the first things the ravenette noticed as he played football with his newly acquired friend was this certain girl that would walk up to him every now and then, either handing him a water bottle, telling him off or bringing him a snack. It was surprising to see Otoya being able to conversate with a girl normally, hell, he even seemed annoyed by her at times! This obviously piqued Karasu's interest, leading to him asking the burning question:

"Who is that girl?"

"Who? [name]?" He replied, pointing in the [haircolor] haired girl's direction, who just so happened to see it, sticking her tongue out at the little boy. "My twin sister. She can be soo annoying.." Otoya copied his sister's move, sticking out his tongue before turning his gaze back to Karasu. "You wouldn't wanna be friends with her, trust me! I'm way cooler."

The ravenette simply nodded, yet his mind wandered back to her over and over again.

"You don't look like each other!" He blurted out in hopes of keeping the conversation running, even if it was just for a little longer. "Good! She's ugly. Now let's continue this!" Was the reply he was met with, a clear sign of the conversation reaching its end. It was fine though, he had more than enough time to get to know her anyway.

And he was right! His friendship with Eita grew with the day, and soon enough the two became closests friends, a benefit of that being visiting his home.

THE RAVENETTE'S FIRST "OFFICIAL" meeting with you was nothing out of the usual. His parents had dropped him off at your house, and the first person he saw in the livingroom was you.

"Hello. Are you Eita's twin sister?" he asked you oh so politely, smiling softly when he took notice of your soft, almost shy nod. "You're Karasu?" "Yes." Before the two could continue their conversation, Otoya showed up, swooping away his friend. Luckily, the older you grew, the better you got along with Otoya, and the closer you managed to get to Tabito.

You found him an interesting guy. He had a strange way of doing his hair, almost rooster like. But that didn't tarnish any of his beauty. He looked almost sculpted, straight out of a painting. Beauty marks adorning his face, sparkling blue eyes, a killer smile, tall. He was everything someone could wish for, and so much more.

Alongside the fact he looked good, he also had the personality that could swoon any girl off their feet. Calm and collected, good with his words, patient, and a smart guy. While he was annoying for his constant teasing, You couldn't deny your admiration, and the fact he managed to stick around your excuse of a brother for so long.

It wasn't like you HATED Eita, no. You loved him very much. It was just his constant habit of cheating on girls and changing relationships like socks that always managed to start an arguments. Aside from that, the two of you were like two peas in one pod.

While you enjoyed hanging around Eita, the evenings seemed to get more pleasant whenever his best friend was around. You couldn't understand it exactly, but you KNEW that there was something there. It was like a strange, bubbling sensation in your chest each time you looked into his eyes, accidental brushes against hand or bumping into each others causing butterflies in your stomach. Then there was also the fact that being around him simply felt right. You recalled the amount of times he sat down, listening to your endless rants about Eita's stupid behaviour without saying a single thing. And each time, he'd comfort you, reassure you, and most of all, side with you. It was something you never really understood, after all, you guys weren't that close, meanwhile he and Otoya had a tightly knit friendship, so why would he choose your comfort over defending your brother's pride?

Everything unfortunately finds it end, and so did your closeness with Tabito. You never knew why he decided to distance himself, and to be frank, it hurt you, very much so, but deep down you knew that it had something to do with a certain someone.

"You know.. I'm just glad you're not into my sister or some shit, you know. like in all those cliche romance movie." Eita snickered, combing a hand through his wet, messy hair. The two had taken a small break from practice to hydrate and catch their breath. "Oh? How come you find that cliche?" He asked innocently, eyebrows arching up and scrunching slightly as the white haired boy's lips formed a grin "Come on now, it's just so weird. Why would you even, I could hook you up with one of my girls, you know?" He replied, nudging the ravenette. "You know I'm not interested in dating right now." Karasu stated, shaking his head dissaprovingly. "Yes man, I know. I was just joking, can't take things these days now, can you?" "I know bro, I know. I was just teasing you." Otoya seemed satisfied with his reply, waiting for him to finish his drink before heading back onto the field, leaving the conversation long forgotten.

That didn't mean Karasu didn't notice the underlying tone Eita had been putting up, no. He understood that his best friend had created a wall, one that he in no way was allowed to climb. Maybe he noticed and didn't like how close the two of you were, or maybe he just didn't want any bad blood between you if something were to ever happen, but, the message was clear.

Stay away from [name] Otoya, his sister is off limits But there is just about a limit that a man can take.

FAST FORWARDS, THREE YEARS had passed since his unspoken promise to Eita. He had significantly distanced himself from you, struggling to keep it up each time you so desperately looked him in the eyes, hoping to restore what you guys had before, but soon, you stopped, and finally accepted that this wasn't going to go anywhere.

The ravenette couldn't deny his dissapointment, but he understood that it was for the better. Atleast, in his best friend's point of view.

Over the years you had become more and more beautiful. And your personality changed too. You went from preferring to shy away from people, to someone that enjoyed any types of interaction. Your brother definitely had part in that, but you certainly didn't seem to mind. You became slightly bolder, not caring about anyones words, but most importantly, you started dating. Something that felt like a knive in his back.

Yes, he had dated too, but not once did he feel that same, warm, fuzzy feeling like he did around you, but he couldn't back out of his promise.

Words reached his ears that you had gotten a new boyfriend, and he couldn't stop himself from asking Otoya all about the news.

"[name]? Oh yeah. She's got a real asshole now. Looks good but I can smell a cheater from miles away. They've been together for how long now? A month? She says he's a good guy but I cannot trust that man."

Once his name had rolled off his tongue, Karasu's eyebrows furrowed. The name was all too familiar, Aiku Oliver was a renowed playboy around. Why would she go for someone as low as that, someone that went against all her principles? Hell, even Otoya was against him!

Either way, it wasn't his business. As long as you were happy, then so was he. His best friend made him an appealing invitation of getting drinks, which he gladly took. He most certainly didn't expect everything to turn around that summer night.

EVEN WITH THE PARTY atmosphere, his mind kept wandering back to Eita's words. And almost as if on cue, a notification reached his phone

"I'm going to fucking cry.. that bastard cheated on me and left me out in the rain.. Toya please pick me up."

His eyes widened, feeling the anger boil inside him. Karasu's gut feeling was always right. And even if he knew the message wasn't mean for him, the ravenette knew it was time to act up.

Just as he put his jacket on, Otoya came back from the bathroom, confused to see his best friend on the brink of leaving.

"Where you going man?" He asked, a little caught off guard and tipsy "Got some urgent business. I'll see you around." He replied before hurrying off into the night. It was a convenient mistake that [name] sent him the location too before checking who the message went to. Before he knew it, his car arrived in front of a bench where a girl was sitting in the rain, drenched and crying. Her face slowly looked up, not understanding what was going on until Tabito rolled the window down.

"Get in [name]"

You didn't even question it, instead, nodded before slouching towards the other side of the car, taking seat in front and putting on her seatbelt.

"You sent me the message, not Otoya. I came here the moment I saw it."

You didn't reply, just nodded and kept your head down. The male sighed, stopping the car in front of an apartment building near college.

"I'm not letting you home in this state. Come on upstairs, you can take a shower and lend some of my clothes."

You understood that you couldn't deny his offer and silently followed behind him, doing everything mentioned before you found yourself sitting in the middle of his couch, wearing some of his older clothes, pillow cradled on your lap as you looked into the distance, deep in thoughts.

"[name]?" His voice managed to snap you back to reality. You blinked a few times before turning your head slightly, looking at the male that sat next to you. "Tell me, what happened?" Those were the only words you needed to hear before bursting into tears, pouring your heart and soul out to your brother's best friend. It was almost as if your sobbing intensified the moment he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer in the progress. He smelled so good, he felt like home, but you remembered how he distanced himself, causing you to push him away and refuse to meet his gaze.

"Hey now, what's wrong [nickname]?" He asked, his voice oh so sweet, like fresh honey. You murmured something under your breath, ignoring his questions until his fingers wrapped around your chin, lifting it up to make you forcefully look at him. Your eyes widened in surprise, unsure why he was so so persistent. "Drop it, Karasu." You whispered, a faint blush spreading across your cheeks.

His face backed away slightly. What was up with these formalities? "Why are you calling me Karasu, I thought we established it's Tabito ages ago." It was hard. With each sentence rolling off his tongue you wanted to scream and yell at him, to tell him how much he hurt you, how unfair it was for him to cast you aside. What happened to all the lingering eyecontact? The subtle hugs? The kind words? Nothing was left of them, they're nothing but a memory you clutched onto, desperately waiting for its return.

"Please.. don't do this to me, tell me what's wrong [nickname], please."

That just so happened to be her last straw.

"Why would I?! Why are you suddenly acting so caring and concerned after you casted me aside so easily all those years ago?" Your voice was laced with venom, tears intensifying with each accusation thrown his way. All he could do was bow his head down in embarrassment. You were right. He fucked up big time.

The ravenette knew that right now might not be the best time. You just got cheated on and broken up with. You were hurt, overwhelmed even. And he made a promise to his friend.

But he simply couldn't help it.

Before you knew it, his lips had crashed into yours, hands holding both of your cheeks as he pulled you closer. It wasn't an unpleasant surprise, and it didn't take long for you to melt into the kiss, gasping and giving his tongue access after he bit your lower lip.

It was a passionate kiss, one that left you breathless. The way his tongue swirled around yours, exploring every nook and cranny of your mouth while his thumbs lovingly caressed the skin under your eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, the two of you parted, only connected by a string of saliva, witness of your act. "Look at me."

You couldn't look away anymore, and finally met his gaze. The same, strange glisten in his eyes from all those years ago was still there.

"Do you think I wanted to distance myself..?" He asked, tone dropping as he inched closer towards her ear. "Do you know how much I regret it..?" His words sent shivers down your spine, and you shuddered, face flushed. "Then why did you...?" You asked, muttering up the courage for the much anticipated question. "Eita made it sure you were off limits. I was scared to cross the line.. what if I ended up hurting you?"

His voice was trembling slightly, and you couldn't stop your hand from cupping his cheek. Karasu was slighyly caught off guard by your action, but leaned into the touch.

"But why would you care about what Otoya said?" You continued, voice laced with a slight desperation.

"Because I love you."

You froze, eyes widened at his sudden confession. At first, it didn't make sense, but then every puzzle piece found its place on the table. And your feelings became clear too.

Who cared about Eita right now, the two of you could handle him later.

Instead of returning his words you pulled him into another heartfelt kiss, even more heated than the last one, and soon enough you found yourself laying on the couch, arms wrapped around his neck as you moaned into the kiss

WHEN YOU FINALLY PARTED you muttered up the courage to say it. "I love you too, Tabito." This time it was his turn to stare at you in disbelief, but that expression quickly got switched out for a warm, loving gaze. "Then would you give me the honour of being your boyfriend?" You nodded "There is nothing else that i've rather would've wanted."

You don't know how much time had passed since your confession. Within the blink of an eye he had lifted you up, and now you found yourself laying on his bed, with him hovering over you.

"Fuck.."

He muttered as he leaned down, hot breath ghosting over your skin as he started peppering open mouth kisses all over your neck, trailing down to your exposed collarbone, leaving hickeys in its wake.

"I'm much better than that asshole anyway, fuckin' hell. Look at the treasure he just lost."

You tried to cover up the string of moans rolling off your tongue, but the ravenette stopped you.

"Don't do that. You sound so good moaning out my name with those pretty lips of yours."

You understood what this could lead to, so before he had the chance to take things further, you stopped him.

"I uh.. I'm not really.. good with this stuff." You admitted embarrased. "Wait, you're a virgin?!" "Ah.. no. I just.. did it once. And never again since." "Bad experience?" He asked softly, a reassuring smile on his face. "You could say. Definitely not pleasurable." Karasu chuckled. "We don't have to do it. I want you to feel comfortable." "It's not that! I am. Very comfortable in fact.. I just don't wanna ruin it for you.."

The boy shook his head.

"You're not ruining anything for me. In fact, I'm glad I can be the one to change your experience for the better. If you'll allow me, that is."

You nodded with no hesitation. The last confirmation the boy needed before taking action.

Soon enough you found yourself back in his grasp, hands roaming all over her body, leaving no inch untouched. Moans and whimpers escaped your lips, only fueling his desire and the growing warmth he felt. You were stripped naked, a little nervous to reveal yourself to him. But any doubt quickly washed away once you noticed the bulge in his pants, and the flushed expression adorning his face.

The sound of rustling snapped you back to reality, and you were met by a sight so lewd, you had to squeeze your legs together. There he was in all his glory. It was like you JUST started noticing how well built he was. Those chiseled abs that look too unreal to be true, his somewhat muscular form, and the moles littered across his body. And obviously the hard, throbbing cock to was standing proudly, precum leaking from the tip. This whole situation was to die for.

You gulped nervously, wondering how this was gonna fit you, but Karasu already had the plan worked out. His hands pushed your legs open while he lowered his face, dangerously close to your core. You could feel his hot breath fanning across the skin of your inner thighs, instinctively wanting to close your legs again before his large hands took hold of them, keeping them pried open.

"Let me make you feel good baby, okay?"

"But you're hard too, what about you?"

A devilish little grin spread across his face as he lifted his head up.

"I might have just the solution for that?"

And with that you found yourself hovering on top of him minutes later, facing his hardened lenght while your dripping cunt dangeled in front of his face. You were nervous, and even a little embarrassed. This whole scene was so dirty, but you couldn't help but get turned on by it all.

"Come on. Lower yourself beautiful. Nothing's gonna happen."

Slowly, agonizingly slow, you started doing so. Karasu being the impatient man he is couldn't wait any longer, instead, his hands took hold of your waist, pulling you down within the blink of an eye. A muffled moan escaped your lips as his tongue started its attack on your hole, licking the folds clean like a madman.

Your hands found their way to his cock, face lowered a little more as you gave it a few kitten licks, feeling his nails digging into your skin with each contact. The sensation was overbearing, but you managed to finally wrap your lips around his cock, tongue swirling around it as you did whatever you could to make him feel good.

If it wasn't enough already, you suddenly felt his fingers grazing your skin, just before plunging two digits inside you. You were a moaning mess, trying to keep up as his tongue fucked you into a mess. Your head bobbed up and down, taking his lenght like your life depended on it.

You felt your orgasm nearing, and he knew it. The ravenette kept you in place, wanting to savour every last drop of your essence. He was close too, and moments later, the both of you reached your climax. Your throat got painted white, and you swallowed the salty substance, slowly taking his still hard cock out.

Karasu carefully lifted you off him, laying you back onto the bed. Your eyes widened when you noticed him licking his lips.

"Thank you for the meal."

"What?! Don't say that!"

"Why? Is my girl getting all shy? We're not done yet."

With one swift movement he got between your legs, positioning his member to be aligned with your aching hole. His gaze met yours, searching for any trace of doubt, any trace of unwant. But all he could find was a fiery passion burning in your eyes, desire glistening in the dimly lit room.

"Last chance to back out.." He whispered, tip grazing in between your wet folds. "Not in a thousand years."

The male smirked, hands gliding from your thighs to your knees, settling there.

"Your wish is my command."

His tip found its way to your entrace, pressing against it as he carefully started pushing it in.

"Deep breaths, [name] You can do this."

You nodded, hissing at the sharp pain that enveloped you as the ravenette pushed his lenght inside you. Little by little, you got filled up, letting out a stiffled moan when you felt him balls deep inside. The male let out a heavy breath as he leaned against you, pushing you deeper into the matress with all his weight. The skin on skin contact, the feeling of him buried deep inside you, his hot breath against your neck, it was deliciously overwhelming.

"Tell me when you're ready."

You nodded shortly after his words, and seconds later his hips started moving oh so carefully, pulling his lenght all the way out, just to move it back in. You were a moaning mess, fingers tangled in his hair as he bullied his throbbing cock into your tight, sopping cunt. Your brain felt like it could melt at any second, his words of praise only fueling the satisfaction.

"You're doing so well for me, look at that, you're such a pretty mess for me baby.."

The pace went on for a while, until you started whinining for him to go faster.

"Thought ya'd never ask.."

He replied, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before snaking his arms around your waist, slamming his length back in so deep, you felt it all the way in your stomach.

Karasu had never felt so good before. The way your walls clenched around his hard cock, squeezing it to the point it felt suffocating. The loud moans escaping your lips, your nails digging into his back. The way your cunt sucked him right back in, making it impossible to pull out, it was simply heavenly.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

He cooed, watching you nod and moan. He was fucking you dumb, and enjoying every single second of it.

"T..tabito fuck! I'm gonna.."

"Me too.. fuck. Wanna feel you come around me.. can I?"

"Yeah.."

His pace intensified, mercilessly pumping in and out. He felt your orgasm nearing, and his too. Soon enough, you moaned out his name, legs wrapped around him as you rode out the pleasure, having made a mess on his cock.

"Good girl.. me next now."

He slurred, the words barely leaving his lips before he released inside you, filling you to the brim with his essence. With a few more deep, lazy thrusts he fucked his come into you, making sure it's as deep as it can be, before pulling out and laying next to you. He watched you as your chest heaved with each breath, still recovering from the wild ride.

"Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, no. It's fine. You didn't."

He smiled, his fingers pushing away strands of hair from your face.

"Let me go get you some water and a towel."

After helping you clean up and making sure you're alright, the two of you laid there in his bed, surrounded by a comfortable silence as he cradled you in his arms. This was how it was supposed to be, you were there, with him, exactly where you belonged. Eita was gonna have to suck this one up.

DEDICATED TO VIKY, NENI AND ALL THE KARASU FANS OUT THERE THAT ARE STARVING FOR CONTENT

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

hiiii i have a request <3 can u do one where reader is axl’s little sis and she goes to high school with izzy & axl and reader has a massive crush on izzy but izzy is strictly off limits bcuz of axl so they sneak away during school and izzy is more experienced than reader bcuz she’s inexperienced so he’s basically like teaching her things and corrupting her…maybe smut😏😏& one day axl catches them and throws a fit but then accepts it bcuz reader loves izzy <333🎀💞💞ty & i love ur writing !!! :))

A/n: I like the way I wrote this but I didn't add Axl catching them because there came an ending and I couldn't think of a way to add to it naturally, if you want a part two I can make one I just liked the way this was written lol

Warnings: Smut, fingering (f receiving), semi public sex, Izzy punches a guy, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Part 2

Axl had rules and you tried to follow them, it never was really hard anyway. Until, that is, he made a friend named Izzy. Izzy was tall with shoulder length black hair, tired eyes that stared at you with a coldness that had your legs weak in the best way.

Axl always said his friends were strictly off limits, you never had a problem with that. Until Izzy.

You whined on and on about how unfair it was that you weren't allowed to even think of liking one of his friends to him, you would receive the same answer every time. "There is no way in hell I'm letting you alone with my friends."

"Then why are you friends in the first place!" You'd yell as you sulked off.

Axl came into your room and told you he was sneaking out, nothing out of the ordinary, he did it more often than not and he told you as an extra precaution or something. You weren't sure but tonight you had a plan.

You were already dressed up and ready to leave with him when he came in around 12:00am. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" He asked, taken aback by your appearance.

"With you." You said simply.

Compared to Axl you were a sweetheart and weren't that into rock, at least you didn't dress the part. Earlier today you snuck into Axl's room and borrowed some clothes, a lettermen jacket and band shirt, Aerosmith. You paired them with jeans and cowboy boots before doing your makeup, making sure your lipstick popped against your features.

"There is no way in hell you're coming with me." He stated. "Especially not dressed like that." He said, gesturing to your get up.

"Come on!" You whined. "You're always picking on me about not being cool, can't I at least pretend for a night?" He chewed his cheek, you watched the gears turning in his head before he eventually sighed.

"Fine, but you don't leave my side, don't talk to anyone, and you're not drinking." You gestured to crossing your heart, smiling ear to ear as he helped you sneak out.

Once you were out of the house it was pretty simple, you'd walk down to the end of the neighbourhood where another of Axl's friends were, get in his car where Axl refused to leave unless he was sitting in the back with you, and then you'd drive off to some field. You preferred sitting alone in the back at first until more people got in, then Axl served as a shield.

The field in question was just another hang out spot for Axl and all his friends, older kids and a few younger kids who either thought they were the shit or were related to the shit, yourself included in the latter.

There was a bonfire and coolers full of drinks, smoke filled the air for more than one reason and you even saw a few used needles scattered from the adults who were only invited for their money and ID's.

Axl kept you right at his side through it all but as he started drinking it became harder for him to do so as you were on the lookout for Izzy.

You were about to give up on your search and just assume he wasn't coming out tonight but then you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Since when do you come out here?" He asked, leaning down so you could hear him over the music and yelling.

You shrugged, just happy to finally be in his presence. "I just thought it would be fun." You said with a smile, gaze falling to the ground.

"Fun, huh?" He glanced around, you knew it was to make sure Axl wasn't around to see. "You want some real fun?" He asked, his focus turning back to you. You nodded and he led you off somewhere.

Within the field there were bunches of trees, in one of these patches there was an old house that had been burned up. It was still standing but wasn't livable and was essentially deemed a hook-up shack.

You didn't want to just be a fun night for Izzy but you thought maybe if you could just have this then Axl would never know and you could move on.

You were just making excuses for why you were fine with this as Izzy started kissing down your neck.

His hands were under your shirt, pushing it up over your chest so he could grope you through your bra. You couldn't deny the excitement that it built inside you, the heat coursing through you every time you felt his lips on you or his teeth grazing your skin.

He took his hands out from under your shirt and got to work undoing your jeans which was when you finally stopped him. You were out of breath and your face was flushed a deep shade of pink though he couldn't see it. "I-I've never..." You trailed.

"Don't worry about it." He said, kissing your forehead. "I can teach you, sweetheart." He pulled your pants down and spread your legs a bit, just enough so your jeans were be about halfway down your thighs. "Tell me if you want to stop, alright? You can do that for me, can't you?" You nodded as his hand slid into your panties.

"Hah, fuck yes, I-I can do that." You smiled, hands going to his shoulders for stability.

Izzy let out a low chuckle as his fingers worked on your clit, rubbing it in circles. "Dirty mouth, huh?" He pressed his lips to yours and pushed a finger into you, causing a moan to leave you and fall onto his lips. "I need you to tell me what feels good, alright?" You nodded.

He started moving his finger, slow at first, just trying to find where you liked it. It was uncomfortable but that soon turned to pleasure when he curled his finger inside you. You gasped softly at the feeling, hips bucking instinctively.

"Oh, felt good, didn't it?" You let out a small whine as you nodded. "Come on, sweetheart, use your words, I'm not gonna bite." He kissed you. "Not unless you wanted me to."

"Please." You said, voice airy.

"Please?" He repeated. "Please, what?"

"I want you to bite me." You looked up at him with a lust filled grin, eyes begging for more.

"Really?" He asked, smiling back down at you. "I can't say no to you, now can I?" He kissed your forehead, then your lips before going back to your neck.

He kept a steady rhythm with his hand, hitting that same spot over and over, curling his fingers and rubbing your clit with his thumb. The chard wood and holes in the walls were useless when it came to concealing your noises but it was your first time and Izzy didn't want to quiet anything from you.

He bit your neck, sure to leave hickeys you'd have to hide from Axl and your parents. He told you how pretty you sounded, how good you were doing for him. "Let me know when you're close, alright?"

"Mhm~ I can- I can do that just please don't stop." You whined, knees buckling under your weight. Izzy pushed you against the wall, pinning your there so he could focus on making you feel good and not keeping you standing.

You could feel a ball of heat knotting in your gut you'd never felt before, Izzy could feel you squeezing him and sucking his fingers in deeper, he could tell you were getting close even without you telling him.

"Oh, isn't she a sweet one?" A new voice came.

Your eyes shot open and you saw a man who must've been in his late thirties at the earliest, he was big guy but clearly had more than a few drinks in him.

Izzy didn't think twice before pulling his fingers out of you, spinning and punching the guy square in the face. He went down without another word and hit the overgrown floors with a loud thud.

You were breathing heavy, eyes still wide as you stared down at the man. Izzy turned back to you and helped you get yourself covered once more before he led you out of the abandoned building.

You saw Axl passed out close to the edge of the field with some girl, they were both half naked. Izzy hid you behind him and got Axl up. The girl had apparently driven there and had no qualms with handing her keys over to Izzy so he could drive everyone home.

Axl was too drunk to realize you were the girl on Izzy's arm and passed out on the drive home.

Izzy parked just outside your house but you hesitated before getting out. "This is your place, isn't it?" He asked, though he knew the answer.

"Yeah, but... if Axl's coming with you why can't I?" You asked, looking up at him with a pout.

"Well," he sighed, scanning around for nothing in particular, "after tonight I think you should just get to bed."

You thought about what he said before shaking your head. "No, I want to stay with you." You remembered your thoughts going into the building, your worries of him treating this as a fun night and nothing more.

When he stared at you without giving you an answer you thought your worries were correct until he leaned towards you, throwing an arm over you shoulder and pulling you in for a kiss. "Axl will kill you if he finds out, you know." He whispered as he pulled away, just enough so he could speak, his hot breath still fanning over you.

"He wouldn't kill me." You stated, Izzy's brows raised. "He'd kill you." You finished with a smile.

"And you'd really take that risk?" You chewed your cheek.

"Maybe." You said finally. Izzy kissed you again.

"Tell you what," he started, "we can sleep in this car with your brother and what's her face and I'll wake you up and get you in your bed before five." You pouted, more at the idea of having to wake up at five.

"What if..." You trailed. You reached for his hand, playing with his long fingers. "You snuck into my room and left at five..?" You asked, nervously biting your lip.

Izzy stared at you for a minute. "You're idea's better." He said and quickly got out of the car.

And that was just the start of your sneaky endeavors.

[uracutieraka]

Something stupid

★・・・・・・★

The time is right, your perfume fills my head

The stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue

And then I go and spoil it all

By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

★・・・・・・★

Kuroo Tetsuro x F!reader

Tw: nothing! Lol!

★・・・・・・★

Synopsis; you and kuroo grew up together and one slightly intoxicated night you admit things you probably shouldn’t have.

★・・・・・・★

You and Kuroo met when you guys were 6 years old.

You had just moved in to your new home only to be greeted by a tall dark haired boy asking if you wanted to play volleyball.

You, ever so excited about the opportunity to already make a new friend took him up on his offer.

He tricked you.

He didn’t want to actually play volleyball, he just wanted you to throw the ball to him.

You were okay with this though, you thought the chatty boy was funny and cool.

“So your names y/n but can I just call you n/n? It sounds way cooler. No offense.”

“N/n is way cooler Tetsuro!” You chirped back.

“Cool. N/n it is then!”

Something about how sure of everything he was lured you in.

Even when asking questions it’s like he already knew what your answer would be.

That’s what kept you coming around him, he intrigued your little brain.

He felt the same about you.

You had big eyes that were always so full of wonder and joy that he wished he could have.

Tetsuro was smart. Extremely smart. He had heard his parents say he was too smart for his own good so many times he had lost count.

He hated being the smart kid.

Always knowing what the adults were talking about had made him stressed. More stressed than a six year old should ever be.

He had found himself bored with life. Dreading big questions all the time.

His parents fought a lot, he wondered how long it would take for them to get a divorce.

Divorce. He learned what that was a year ago when he over heard his mom mention getting one to her friend one night, while his dad was out of town for work.

‘I just cant stand this anymore. Im only here for Tetsu.’

‘Have you thought about… you know?’

‘Divorce? Yeah i have. I just- I don’t know how to even start.’

His mom was unaware of her son’s presence, otherwise the conversation would have been over the second she knew.

‘Divorce’ had repeated in his mind for the whole weekend.

Finally when school came around he asked his teacher.

“What’s a divorce?”

The teacher, thinking nothing of it, answered.

“It when a married couple breaks up.”

It took 3 more years for them to leave each other.

But he was lucky. He had you.

By the time you two were nine he had surpassed you in every academic way possible.

‘N/n! N/n! Guess what?!’

‘What?!’

‘I’m reading at the same level as middle school second years do!’

‘Wow Tetsu! You’re so smart!’

You didn’t care though, you always remained proud of him. Openly expressing it all the time too.

When you were 10 though, there was a suddenly shift between you two.

A younger kid from down the block named Kenma had started coming around.

Practicing volleyball with Tetsuro everyday nearly.

You weren’t one to get jealous but something about this whole situation made your stomach hurt.

The boy you had known for three years was pushing you aside for someone he had known for 3 months! How unfair!

‘You never play with me anymore Tetsu!’

‘Well yeah, Ive been busy!’

‘Playing with Kenma! It’s not fair!’

‘You’re dramatic!’

You guys didn’t talk for a whole year after that.

You had never been so lonely in your life.

On your 11th birthday though, Kuroo decided enough was enough.

He used all his allowance money to buy you the biggest stuffed animal he could find.

Rushing over to your house with it he practically ran your door down trying to get in.

‘Happy birthday n/n! Stop being mad at me! Im sorry! I miss you!’

A few years later, you had came around to the idea of Kenma. Creating a trio you three became unstoppable.

Middle school was rough for all three of you.

Kenma was a year younger than both of you so seeing him was harder to do than you thought it would be.

You decided Friday nights were mandatory sleepover nights because of this.

That’s how you ended up here, eight years later, on the floor of your new apartment with Kuroo.

Kenma’s mom said he needed to get his grades up before he even thought about asking to go out again.

It had been like this the past 6 Friday’s.

Just the two of you, because Kenma couldn’t get his damn grades up.

“Well maybe if you stopped bleaching your hair you wouldn’t have so many chemicals seeping into your brain so you’d actually focus in school.” A shit eating grin was plastered across the tall mans face.

“It’s not the bleach Tetsu. It’s the video games obviously.” You stated, propping your phone up so you both could properly see your younger friend.

“Both of you shut up!” Kenma groaned, throwing his face into a pillow on his bed.

“Welp! Maybe get your grades up!” Tetsuro said, sticking his tongue out tauntingly.

“Whatever asshole.”

‘Kozume! Watch your mouth!’ You heard kenma’s mom yell in the background.

“Whatever!,” he replied back, grabbing his phone and holding it close to his face. “Im gonna go now. Do my homework or something. I hate you both, bye!”

“Hate you, love you byeee!” You said pressing the big red ‘X’ in the corner of your screen.

Sighing you roll over on your mattress which is smack in the middle of your (soon-to-be) living room.

“Tetsuuuu,” you coo out, a sign you were up to something sneaky. “I have a surprise from my grandparents!”

“Oouuu what is it?” He said, matching your devious tone.

You hopped up and skipped over to your mostly empty fridge.

A pizza box and bottle of wine sat in it.

The pizza curtsey of your best friend, his ‘housewarming gift’ was dinner for the night.

And the bottle, a gift from your grandparents for turning 19 and moving out.

You grab the, now, chilled bottle and skip back out to the empty living room.

Lucky for you they also gifted you a corkscrew with it.

Sitting down infront of him you shake the bottle in his face.

“Oouuhh fancy, where’d ya’ get that?” A quizzical eyebrow shot up on the mans face.

“My grandparents. They said its a tradition and good luck to drink a bottle of wine when you get your first place.,” you huff looking down at the bottle in your hands. “I just think they’re cool as fuck and were trying to reason with my parents.” A small chuckle leaves your lips as you now look back up at the black haired man across from you.

“Hey nana l/n has always been awesome as hell! Cut my girl some slack!” He replies, reaching out and grabbing the bottle to inspect it himself.

You laugh at his response.

He’s always been so quick witted. It was one of his most charming traits, in your opinion.

“So! We gonna crack this bad boy open, or what?” You say, drawing his attention off the label.

“Yes, sorry!,” He smiles up at you apologetically. “Do the honors ms. l/n!”

You take the bottle from him and slam the cork screw in the end. After a moment of twisting a ‘POP!’ Sounds through the echo-y room.

“Hoorah!” He shouts, throwing his arms out wide in the air.

“You’re such a nerd!” You shout back.

“Whatever! Just fill my damn glass!” He shove the glasses in your face.

You stick your tongue out at him but do as he says, pouring the contents of the bottle out into the glasses.

After you fill each of them very generously to the half way point of the cups, you take a curious sip.

Your face contorts into a sour look.

“Ew! This is disgusting!”

“Really?” Kuroo asks, taking a cautious sip himself.

You watch as his face also turns sour.

“Oh my god thats horrible…”

You two stare at each other for a moment before bringing the glasses back up to your lips, both chugging the alcohol down, hoping to finish before the other one.

You finish your glass first and snatch the bottle off the floor, pouring another glass and doing the same thing.

He finished not long after you, waiting for you to fill your glass again before following your actions and refilling his.

After a few minutes of chugging down glasses you grab the bottle again, its empty.

“Damn!” You say, finally catching your breath.

You both are panting heavy at the lack of air intake.

“We finish it? Should be a few minutes before we start feeling it.” He finally says.

He was right.

10 minutes later you stand up to get some water to was the nasty after taste out of your mouth. But it hits you like a truck.

You wobble around for a second before giggling at your actions.

“Oop!” You slur out.

He laughs out behind you, standing to help you.

He trips slightly over his own foot, falling flat on to the ground.

Youre laughing so hard your stomach starts to hurt.

“Te- testu! Are- HAH are you okay?” You finally manage to ask through bursts of laughter.

He stands up, laughing just as hard as you.

“Yeah, im fine.” He says when he finally stands up straight.

He stumbles over to you.

“Where’s your speaker at?” He asks, brushing the front of his black t-shirt off.

You fumble around the counter, moving boxes around to find your bluetooth speaker.

You pull it out from behind a box and turn towards him.

“Here!” You hand it to him.

“Perfect..” he mumbles, fumbling in his pocket for his phone. He pulls it out and makes haste turning it on and connecting it.

A familiar song starts playing.

One that you two listened to on late night, alone in your old room.

Record old and scratchy, from your grandmothers collection.

You and Kuroo were far from just friends.

He was your first kiss, after all.

It happened when you were 14.

An off chance that kenma stayed home.

Kuroo had snuck a beer from his dads fridge the weekend prior, on a mandatory visit due to the divorce agreement.

He save it for this weekend hoping to share it with you and kenma, but kenma had a new game that had just released that day. He obviously had to play it right away.

You didn’t mind though, it was hard for you and Kuroo to find time to hangout just the two of you anymore.

You loved Kenma but Kuroo was your best friend first after all.

Kuroo stands up and reaches his arm out.

You grab it and stand up, facing him.

"So, I've been thinking, neither of us has kissed anyone yet," his face flushes and turns away from you as the words leave his mouth. "And it's probably better we get it out of the way before first year starts. That way we're not like, you know... behind?"

"Behind?" You ask.

"Yeah, all my friends on the volleyball team have had their first kisses and it's normal to do it. Plus we're best friends and friends can kiss too!" He says, a giant smile on his face.

"Friends... can kiss too?" You had never really thought about it like that, but you guess he's not wrong.

"Friends kiss all the time! It's normal in other cultures! Plus one little kiss couldn't hurt anybody," He leans forward to be slightly over you. "So? What'd ya' say?"

"Okay." you say quietly.

were you really about to kiss your best friend?

He leans forward and you close your eyes.

It was a quick and slobbery kiss to your lips.

He pulled away quickly. Unsure what to do next.

You blush and look away.

“Ok now we kissed so can we go back to what we were doing?

He laughs before sitting back down on your bed.

“Y/n?” Youre broken out of your train of thought by kuroo extending his hand out to you.

You grab it and he pulls you in close to his chest.

This was familiar.

You slightly inhale his smell while you adjust to the new position.

Your finger tips slowly trace up his arm, until your right hand meets his left one. He intertwines your fingers together.

At the same pace you slide your palm flat against his chest up to his shoulder.

He hums and closes his eyes and his right hand drops down to rest on your hip.

Kuroo enjoyed these moments. Slow and calming. They were a nice break from the busy schedule he had.

Everything and everyone around him was so intense all the time, but you? You had a way of stopping time and calming him down. And you didnt even have to do anything.

He begins swaying you two around languidly around the small kitchen.

Youre both humming to the tune of the song when he begins to sing softly.

“I practice every day, to find some clever lines to say, to make the meaning come true”

You giggle at his antics before joining in on his singing.

“But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late and I'm alone with you”

Its now his turn to chuckle at you, he instead opts to spin you around.

“Oh!” You say at the sudden movement. Stumbling a bit he grabs your waist to steady you out.

“Sorry.” He says, wide eyes trained on you.

“It’s okay dont worry!,” You say, resuming the position you were in before. “Let’s keep dancing.”

He nods, continuing to sway around.

"Y/n." He says, the sudden seriousness in his voice sends a chill down your spine.

"Hm?" You hum back in response, focused on where your hand intertwines with his.

"You know, this isn't, normal for friends right?"

You knew that. You weren't stupid.

Sneaking kisses when nobody was looking, intertwining your pinkies while you guys walked together, cuddling up whenever you guys could. All these things were things that couples did. Not friends.

"What about it?" You ask and he finally stops swaying you around, lowering his other hand to rest on your other hip.

He takes in a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling. When he looks back down at you he begins to talk.

"So, maybe we should talk about it?"

You bring both your hands to smooth over the fabric on his shoulders.

"Do we have too? I like whatever this is." You huff out, now looking up to make eye contact.

He rolls his eyes.

"Yes! We obviously have too!" He's hurt at your response.

He would much rather be your boyfriend than best friend. In fact the idea of forever being whatever he was to you drove him crazy.

You step backwards a bit, breaking from his hold.

Obviously you want him to be more than your best friend, but was it worth it?

If you say no you risk losing him either way.

"Look, Tetsuro," He cuts you off before you can finish.

"If you're going to say no then you have to answer another question." His eyes hold an emotion you've only seen when he loses a match. Defeat. Like he's already accepted the fact you would turn him down.

"What is it?" You ask, curious as to what he wants to know.

"If you say no, then you have to tell me what all of this was then? All the late nights sneaking around, the long glances, the flirting, everything. What did it mean to you?"

The question begins ringing in your ears.

'What did it mean to you'

"Everything." it's a quiet whisper, you're not surprised he didn't hear you.

"What?" He says, voice low.

"It means everything to me. That's why I'm scared to do anything about it. It's so perfect right now, what if everything changes?"

He studies you for a moment. Obviously looking up and down.

You shy away slightly at the attention.

He just can't believe something so beautiful could casually stand around in front of him.

You're in old running shorts and one of his t-shirts. It was beaten up from years of use.

Once he grew out of it last year he finally gave it to you.

Your hair is messy and frizzy from the humidity of moving and drinking. Falling out of the bun you put it in lazily hours ago.

"I understand where you're coming from, but I can't just do this forever." His reply doesn't shock you. It isn't fair to ask him to wait forever. You know that.

"I know..." You sigh, looking down at your socks.

"Can you stop being so emo and just be my girlfriend?" He sighs loudly, taking a step forward, hands finding your hips again.

His tone is teasing but you know he means the words he's saying.

"Promise to not let it ruin what we have?"

"Hmmm....," He puts a finger up to his chin and taps it, like he's pondering the idea.

"We have to acknowledge that there will be certain risks, such as, since you'd be my girlfriend if anything happened between us I'd probably die of a broken heart, im pretty sure."

"Oh my god you are such a nerd Tetsu!" you playfully swat at his chest, laughing.

"Ok but seriously, be my girlfriend."

"I gotta think about it."

"There's nothing to think about, be my girlfriend."

"There's a lot to think about actually."

"How about, you say yes to being my girlfriend right now, then think about it later?"

"That makes no sense."

"Who cares?"

You didn't realize he'd be slowly leaning down with each question until you feel his breath on your face.

You can smell the alcohol from earlier on his lips.

"I care." Your voice is stern.

He backs up again, removing his hands from you and leaning back against the counter top.

He's so tall that the counter is in line with his hips. Making it the perfect resting spot for him.

You lean on the counter opposite from him. The kitchen is small so you guys are still close enough that your feet are touching.

You put some weight back on to your wrists, allowing you to lift your leg up and give a small kick to his shin.

He looks up at you, taking his focus from where your feet were once entangled.

"What?" He asks, a hint of attitude lacing his tone.

"Don't do that Tetsuro."

He doesn't respond, but instead rolls his eyes.

You huff, not caring to argue with him.

"Look, I'll be your girlfriend," You watch as his face perks up, he goes to say something but you're quick to shove your hand out in to his face to keep him quiet. "But, you have to make one promise."

You drop your hand, allowing him to respond.

"I'll do anything!"

"Okay, and I'm so serious about this. Like, this is do or die."

He nods his head up and down quickly, showing his blind alliance to whatever you were going to say.

"Okay, So, I need you to promise that you'll stop making corny science jokes all the time."

He stops moving to stare at you, popping a brow up at you In annoyance.

"That's it?"

You nod 'yes' quickly.

"No can do sweetheart. Science jokes are baller."

He rolls his eyes again, grabbing you and pulling you back into him.

Your words are muffled due to him holding your face into his chest.

"And you can't say 'baller' to describe things anymore!"

"Uh-Uh! You're asking too much of me!"

He lets your head go and move your head back to look up at him.

"Fine, I'll be your girlfriend. No conditions."

"Swear?" A cheesy grin overtakes his face.

"Yeah. Swear."

He leans over, grabbing your face in both his hands, squishing your cheeks until you're lips poke out.

A giant wet kiss lands on your lips and he makes a show of popping his lips with a 'MWUAH'! He drops your face and you wipe the excess spit off your mouth.

"Okay one condition, you have got to stop giving such wet kisses! It's gross!"

He just laughs, signaling that won't happen anytime soon.

"Too late you already said swear."

You roll your eyes and push his chest a bit, finally going to grab a glass of water.

You guess having him as your boyfriend couldn't be so bad.

[blimpintime]

jar of wind part three

Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to a end.

warnings: angst, light gore, unedited

word count: 2.1k

eventual eris x oc

The wind helps me reach The Night Court in record time even though it was fighting me the entire way, my satchel holds mine and Eris’s gift for Nyx. A stuffed fox and a hand-crafted wooden play tea set. The weather when I get here is cooler than it was when I left, which makes sense considering Summer has come to an end. However, something seems off in the air and I can’t place what it is. Shrugging my shoulders and letting out the breath I was holding, I just blamed it on the nerves of being back here. 

When I finally get to the River House I notice some slight changes; like the wind chimes I had placed had been taken down or the sun catchers that were hanging are now lying in the dirt half haphazardly covered in soil. I roll my eyes and sigh. I grip my satchel a little tighter and fold my glowing wings behind my back. My pink glow has turned into a warm purple matching the sunset in the sky that is covering Velaris.

A sinking feeling coats me when I am about to knock on the door, hearing sounds of laughter and excitement escape through the small cracks of the door. I suddenly wish Eris was with me but shake off the thought. He is a High Lord now, he has more important things to worry about than you. I think to myself. My hand was hovering over the door for an awkward amount of time before I just decided to rip off the bandage and knock. 

A breath releases from me when it is Elain who answers the door and not someone else. Her face brightens with a huge grin and she practically tackles me with a hug. 

“Wynn!” She shouts, and I am wondering if she has had just a little bit to drink. I grin back and say her name in a quieter tone. 

She pulls me into the warm house, her pale pink dress fluttering around her as she moves. She was always so naturally welcoming to me. When she had first discovered me lying in the sun on one of her flowers she almost had a heart attack but quickly after that, we became close friends. I doubt I would have met the rest of the inner circle if it weren’t for Elain. So maybe that’s why I always felt like an imposter here. 

“You and I have so much to catch up on!” She tells me. I shoot her back a grin.

“As if we weren’t sending letters back and forth weekly?” I say with a teasing smile. 

“It is simply not the same, I must see your reaction.” She responds in a whisper as though she doesn’t want anyone else to hear. 

“Ahh. I understand.” I whisper back in the same joking tone. We arrived where everyone else had been sitting and a silence went over the room. I internally wince at the awkwardness, but luckily it does not last long when Feyre and Nesta stand to greet me. 

“Wynnie Lara!” Nesta says she and Feyre pull me into a hug, Nesta in a gray dress and Feyre in a dark blue one. I look over their shoulder to see Azriel avoiding eye contact with where we are standing, and Cassian and Rhys both have guilty smiles on their faces. It seems I arrived a little too late and Nyx was put to sleep already. 

When the sisters pull away from their hug I am left there standing awkwardly with Elain hanging off of my shoulder. She’s keeping my body warm and relaxed even though I would rather be anywhere else right now. 

Rhys clears his throat, “Wynn I want to apologize for how things were left the last time you were here.” I give a stiff nod in acknowledgment before saying,

“Is that really how you feel or is that what your wife told you to say?” and the room responds in a thick silence. “Because I do not think I can trust any words that leave your mouth High Lord.” 

He gives a wince, “I deserve that.” Nesta coughs and takes a sip of her drink muttering something under her breath. 

“Did you come here to throw a pity party or did you come here to celebrate?” Azriel butts in as if he is bored of this whole show.

“I don’t know Azriel, what poor girl do you have feeding your hero complex to make you so relaxed?” I bite back. “Just a forewarning, she probably won’t stick around once she realizes how much of a little bitch you are.” He stands up abruptly and Rhys raises his hand as a warning and someone snorts in the background. 

“Wynn,” Rhys says shocked. I look at him and my glow turns pink and I mutter out a weak, “Sorry.” I’m not. 

“I actually do have a gift for little Nyx,” I say and reach into my satchel. Elain’s face is still tucked into my neck, and she whispers “You smell like clove and nutmeg.” 

I grin a little knowing that is the Autumn Courts doing, and my mood goes melancholy when I realize I miss it. When I pull out the little toys, Feyre’s face lights up and before she walks over Rhys puts a hand out in front of her to stop her. 

“Wynn.” He says, “Where were you for the past few months?” He asks although I suspect he already knows the answer.

“Home, High Lord,” I respond sharply.  “The Autumn Court. Eris sends his regards.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Azriel shouts out. “You’re a traitor Wynnie Lara.” I roll my eyes. 

“Oh to the Mother. No, I am not.” I breathe before continuing, “If any of you actually took the time to get to know me, you would have already known that is where I am from. I mean the girls already knew and to be honest the only one who has a right to be upset is Mor and she is not.” I take notice that Mor was not here which was weird considering it was Nyx’s birthday but that tells me she is probably on an important mission. 

“My kind also has a tragic backstory, just like you guys. My people, my species were hunted for sport centuries ago. Humans, fae, it didn’t matter it was a game. So when it was eventually outlawed across Prythian we had already borderline gone extinct.” I say with a shaking voice. I look to see horror across everyone’s face and it fills me with some sick satisfaction that they regret how they’ve been treating me.

“Wynn-” Elain starts but I pat her hand to let me continue. 

“The worst time though, was not the hunting. No, it was Amarantha. Yes I know I was stuck in a jar. But I watched her terrorize the rest of my people for fun, ripping them in half and plucking their wings off their backs as if they were nothing but gnats. All I have seen for my kind is gruesome bloodshed.” I have tears streaming down my face as I continue. 

“The only one to ever show me kindness during all of that was Eris. That is because he and I grew up together. When I found the Autumn Court there was a children’s shelter that I made my home for years. He and I found each other in the woods in our youth, he was the one to break me out of that damn jar when everything was over. Without him, I would have been stuck in the jar or worse.

Because of his father’s cruel reign, once I was healed enough Eris sent me here for sanctuary. I did not know any of you really besides Feyre and that was only because she was the Cursebreaker.” I managed to get out. Elain wrapped me up in her arms whispering words of encouragement while swaying us both. Feyre had tears streaming down her face. Nesta had a hand covering her mouth in dread and Cassian rubbing her back with the same grim look on his face.

Azriel is wrapped in shame and Rhysand looks horrified. He stands up and walks towards me, gently takes the gifts out of my hands, and offers me a hug. And for a moment I don’t return it, but when I do, I feel a weight taken off my shoulders. 

“Wynn if we would have known.” Rhys starts but I interrupt. 

“You would have what? Treated me better? Do I not just deserve your kindness as is? Or do people have to have some sort of traumatic backstory to earn your respect?” I clear my throat and nose once I pull back, “I did not tell you guys that to pity me, I am telling you because just because I am kind and small does not mean I am weak or some pushover. If you do not want me here that’s fine I will leave. But do not take whatever feelings you are struggling with, out on me.” I make it a point to hold eye contact with Azriel for that last part. 

“I think we all owe you a huge apology for how you have been treated since arriving in Velaris. This city was built to be and stay a sanctuary, so the fact that you have been behaved towards so unfairly is embarrassing, to say the least.” Rhysand says standing sternly next to me.

“I am sorry the most. I have no real reason to have treated you the way I have.” Azriel speaks softly.  “Please forgive me.” I look at him and give him a once-over. He is slouching in the chair he is sitting in, hands rubbing his face as the shadows around him twirl. 

“I do forgive you but I do not think I could ever trust you,” I respond in the same tone, he winces and nods. Everyone gives their condolences to me, even Elain but I think that’s because she is tipsy and her emotions are just heightened. 

After the tense moment is over I let the group know that I will be leaving. The three sisters all looked shocked. 

“I really do wish I could stay longer but I have work to do back in Autumn, plus something is wrong. Or is about to be wrong, I am not sure.” I say with a furrow of my brows grabbing my arms and wrapping them around myself.  My wings glow and twitch as I think about the shifting of the wind. And my hue finally changes back to its normal orange-pink. 

“What do you mean?” Cassian finally speaks up with a questioning look on his face. 

“I have a hard time trying to describe it in words, but I am connected to the wind as you all know. And it’s shifting weirdly and in abnormal patterns. I can normally predict how the weather is going to be based on it and I have been wrong little to none because of being able to read the wind. Recently though it is like I have never interacted with the wind at all.” I utter all at once. 

“I am not sure though. I have to get back to my research and experiments to figure more out. Once I do, I will make sure to write.” I let out with a soft smile.

I am sensing because of the heavy conversation and the lateness of the evening that the party is over. I give my goodbyes, hug Elain, and make sure she will still write to me weekly.  With that, I take off back into the night sky and head home. 

While gliding through the air I had almost reached the Autumn Court when the wind around me went frigid and midflight I dropped towards the ground. Once my wings regain their sense of balance I spin in the sky looking for a threat, and as expected I come up empty. As I am about to continue my flight home a hard spike goes through my left hand. A yelp leaves my throat and I look to see an arrow, piercing my hand. I yell as I start to fall, my wings having a hard time opening. I get shot with another arrow through my right thigh, I let an agonizing scream out and close my eyes once I hit the cold ground with a hard thud. 

Bleary-eyed trying to stand I feel warm blood coming out of my hand and leg, I see a figure walking towards me and I try to crawl away leaving a trail of fresh blood following me, “No, leave me alone.” I grunt out. Once they reach me I pray to the Mother that my death be swift, and then it goes dark. 

a/n: soooooo what did yall think?

i do not own any of sarah j mass's characters.

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