#sigh. lizzie i love you so much.

[jazforthesoul]

every time someone reduces CAPTAIN !!! elizabeth "lizzie" lafayette down to "a sad lesbian" a fairy dies bc i shoot it with my gun. like you're telling me you were spoon-fed a character that has one of the most realistic and RAW representations of grief and perseverance in the series and all you got from that was "she's sad" ????

is she a constantly happy character? Fuck no! that's acknowledged!! but to take EVERYTHING that she is, which has positive and negative aspects THAT ARE BOTH SHOWN, to take the fact that she is THE DRIVING FORCE OF THE MAIN BACKGROUND PLOT, and reduce her down to NOTHING but her relationships?? ?what the hell!!!

[crescentfool]

orpheus and thanatos 💚

[cowboy1ikereid]

sweet creature ~ s.r.

‘Wherever I go, you bring me home’

Summary: Spencer calls you when he’s missing home.

Warnings: pregnant!reader x husband!spencer, reader is in her second pregnancy and they already have a 3 y/o daughter, spencer is, again, a huge softie, calls you sweetheart, he's called away on an urgent case and misses you, reader is almost in third trimester, they fall asleep on the phone, cuties, inspired by sweet creature by harry styles, fluff and comfort

Category: Fluff x Comfort

Word count: 1.1k

Author's note: Spencer Reid deserved to get married and have children but he has to be a girl dad and I don't make the rules. I just know he would be the most sweet, caring and loving husband/dad in the world. Anyways I kind of had to do something to this song because I saw it live (Wembley N4 I’ll miss you forever). Enjoy!!

You were exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Being 7 and a half months pregnant and taking care of your 3 year old daughter alone had never been part of the plan. In fact, Spencer was supposed to be working either in office or from home during the later stages of your pregnancy, but a serious case meant that he was needed urgently by the BAU. With only 8 hours notice he was in Florida, and suddenly he was approximately 920.4 miles away from you.

It was around 9pm, and you’d been eagerly awaiting a phone call from your husband. You’d blame your anxiety on the hormones, but you knew it wasn’t just that. You’d always been like this whenever he was away, and you never quite managed to properly adjust to how much travelling his job required. Lizzie, your daughter, was laid next to you in the bed you and Spencer shared, asleep on his side of the bed. She was the same as you whenever her dad was away, even if she didn’t quite understand his job. She was a daddy’s girl, and if sleeping on Spencer’s side of the bed helped her to feel that little bit closer to him when he was away, you would let her. Her curly light brown hair was sprawled across the pillow which she drooled on, unconscious.

Your phone was on silent so the ringer didn’t wake her up, but as soon as you felt the persistent buzzing and Spencer’s name appeared on the screen, you stood, stretching slightly before leaving the room and quietly closing the door behind you, simultaneously swiping the button to answer the call.

“Hi.” You whispered softly, cautious not to wake up your sleeping three-year-old who was in the next room.

“Hi sweetheart. How are you?” Spencer’s sweet voice spoke over the phone.

“Hanging on. I managed to settle Lizzie after she cried because you couldn’t tuck her in tonight.. Little one has been quiet for now, but I just know that she’ll start getting active as soon as I attempt to sleep.” You spoke with a soft smile on your face at the thought of the little life growing inside of you whilst you tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room, sitting down on the sofa with a hand on your round bump, rubbing it gently.

You heard Spencer sigh over the phone. “I miss you. I saw the three of you this morning and it feels like I haven’t seen you in months.” He chuckled. Spencer was alone in his hotel room, and it felt strangely quiet. Unfamiliar. If Spencer was home, you’d be asleep in his arms by now, your soft snores echoing in the darkness of your bedroom. Pregnancy was tiring, after all. But you struggled to sleep without each other, and you knew that. Your house may as well have been cold and empty to you without him there. Your house wasn’t your home. Spencer was, and you knew that he felt the same way about you. That was why he’d called.

“Any new symptoms? At around the seven month mark, you should expect to experience some shortness of breath, discomfort which may lead to difficulty moving, frequent urination, lightheadedness caused by the baby putting pressure on your blood vessels which can slow blood flow, fatigue-” He began to reel off pregnancy symptoms until he was cut off by your sleepy laugh.

“Spence, you’ve been gone for less than a day. You don’t have to worry about me. I feel the same as I did earlier.” You giggled.

“And that is?” He questioned. You could picture him furrowing his eyebrows, and the thought of it made your heart warm.

“Achey, tired, like a whale, hungry..” You listed, and you already knew he was going to give you advice on how to deal with your symptoms. He’d done more than enough research on pregnancy when JJ was first pregnant with Henry, and since then he’d unexpectedly found himself helping a woman give birth on a case.

“You need to rest. It’s late and that’s one of the only things that could help with your symptoms right now apart from physical activity, but I doubt you’d want to do any exercise at the moment,” He instructed, and you knew that he was being serious, even with his light tone. You’d think that you’d know more about pregnancy than Spencer, with you being mid-way through your second pregnancy, but he knew everything. Whilst anybody else might have been surprised by that, you weren’t. He’d done extensive research on the topic, after all, and he continued to. “And I can also guarantee you that you don’t look like a whale.” He added, and you could hear his smile in his voice.

“That’s what you think. I can hardly move, and when I do I waddle. I waddle, Spencer!” You pouted, and you could hear him laugh.

“Well I’m sure you look beautiful whilst you waddle.” He teased.

After a few quiet conversations between the two of you, 9pm turned to 11:30pm, and you could feel your mind wanting to drift off as your conversations slowly turned into Spencer spouting off random facts whilst you listened, his voice soothing you as though he was there with you. You decided to go back upstairs and tuck yourself into bed whilst he talked, placing your phone on the nightstand. He wasn’t really next to you, but it was close enough. You knew Lizzie wouldn’t wake up between Spencer’s soft words, the low volume your phone was on and her tendency to be a heavy sleeper. However, Spencer soon realised you were responding to him less and less.

“Sweetheart?” He said quietly, and you hummed in response, already drifting off. “Do you want me to hang up?” He asked, and your eyes snapped open. “No. Uh, I mean, I’d like it if you could just… stay on the line.” You said quietly, and he understood what you meant.

“Of course,” He responded, “Good night. I love you.” He said, and you said it back.

Soon enough, you fell asleep, and if he closed his eyes, he could picture you there next to him, your soft snores echoing around his hotel room. That was all he needed to relax, and Spencer soon found himself drifting off to sleep, feeling like he was at home. Feeling like he was with his home.

You brought him home.

[jjunieworld]

CEILINGS ˒˒ 최연준͏ ▸  𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾: 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝗯𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀

you’re both from two seperate worlds, but in the four corners of your bedroom the two of you can be together. even if your latest confession means it could be for the last time.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ choi yeonjun x fem!reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 none!

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ angst, smut, secret friends with benefits to ???, secret relationship, punk!yeonjun, nerd!reader, reader wears glasses, punk x nerd trope, some bad boy x good girl trope

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ unprotected sex, soft dom!yeonjun, kinda service top!yeonjun, pussy drunk!yeonjun, clit stimulation, slight overstimulation, heavy praise kink, marking, slight bulge kink?, petnames (baby, sweetheart, good girl, babygirl), creampie, riding, cowgirl, depictions of heartbreak, a lot of desperation lmao

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ happy birthday yeonjun my love!!! ♡ ♡ ♡ and happy early ggum release!!! this is inspired by the songs ceilings by lizzy mcalpine and in my room by julia wolf! haven’t wrote angsty smut in so long, i missed it hehe! wrote this while i was suffering from a migraine (> <。) the love and deepspace brainrot has been strong so if you see familiar dialogue… ʅ（‾◡◝）ʃ i hope you enjoy!! ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

∿ [ 4k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

if you tried really hard you could imagine that the four corners of your room was something else—somewhere else. somewhere other than your room. like, perhaps, a nice restaurant where the lights are warm and you’re sitting in the cozy back corner. or maybe a park on a day where it’s not too hot and not too cold. that perfect temperature where you can wear lighter clothing if you wanted, but that also gave you the opportunity to ask a lover for their sweater.

tonight, as you stared up at your ceiling, you pictured that your room was a cute little picnic date. you pictured that you and yeonjun ate cute little sandwiches together as you both watched various strangers pass by. you pictured that you and his relationship was ultimately more than it was.

yeonjun: your window’s still open, right?

the buzzing of your phone at such a late hour didn’t surprise you as much as it did before. you didn’t even have to check the contact name as you responded and tossed your phone back onto your nightstand, the device clanging against your stacked textbooks from your study session earlier. a sigh pushed through you.

you had been so hopelessly in love with yeonjun since you first laid eyes on him on campus—nonchalant attitude paired with his alternative clothing and headphones resting against his head that seeped out the rock music he was always listening to as he strode across the pavement. when his eyes met yours that day for the briefest of moments, you had to get to know him somehow.

you: you know it always is.

unfortunately for you, your social circles didn’t overlap in the slightest. yours consisted of studious students who were the top of their classes and who made sure that their assignments got turned in early. nerds, others would say, or perhaps geeks.

yeonjun’s on the other hand—his consisted of various alternative people. some in bold black and white makeup and black, frilly victorian style dresses, while others in tight, dark clothing and hair in their eyes that sported dyed colored stripes. all of them clad in black eyeliner that darkened their already tired looking eyes and listening to the same rock music he did.

he was rebellious and liked to break the rules while you abided by them. the hammering of loud drums and guitars soothed him while it was something you absolutely couldn’t stand. he was vulgar and spoke the first thing that came to his mind while you constantly overthought the polite answer you would give. yeonjun was night while you were day.

the two of you couldn’t have been more different.

but still, that didn’t stop you from being drawn to him. and that fateful day where you happened to run into him and drop all of your textbooks changed your relationship forever. never did you think your wide eyes and bumbling apologies would lead to you under him as your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as your shared moans bounced off the walls of your room.

never did you expect him to ask you to keep it all a secret because he didn’t want his friends to know he was fucking the resident nerd.

you hear the familiar creaking of your window as yeonjun begins to open it and reach for your glasses in the mess on your nightstand. the blurriness of your room comes into focus right as yeonjun pokes his head through the window, effectively killing the daydream you were in. he pushes his bright orange hair off of his forehead as he steps through, finger tangling in the light blonde streaks within it.

“hey, babe,” yeonjun said as he swung his other leg over the ledge of the window. his black boots crumpled one of the discarded papers on your floor but he didn’t seem to notice as he shut the window behind him, locking the cold air out.

yeonjun turned towards you, already stripping out of his faded flannel. “that math test is already a bust. i literally couldn’t understand any of that shit. i don’t even know how i made the class… shocked that the professor hasn’t said anything to me about it yet.”

his cheeks were flushed from the cold and his dark brown eyeliner was smudged around his eyes as he stared down at your lying form. you pushed up on your elbows as you watched him take off the band t-shirt he was wearing. you stared at his bare upper-body with wide eyes and the corner of his mouth lifted as he kept talking.

you hated the way your heart fluttered and raced, hated the effect he had on you. you hated the way he smirked at you like he knew he had you wrapped around his pretty little finger. it was embarrassing.

you gulped as his eyes remained on yours as he slowed his fingers down to unbuckle the belt he was wearing. “you seem distracted…” yeonjun said, his voice mixed with amusement and slight teasing, “don’t tell me it was that hard! if you can’t do it, then there’s no way in hell i’m gonna.”

he kicked off his boots and moved closer to where you were on the bed. your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you stuttered out a response, “y-yeonjun… it’s late and we both have classes tomorrow… what are you doing here?”

in one swift motion he climbed over you, trapping your body underneath his. the tips of his dyed hair tickled your cheeks and the cold metal of his belt buckle against your lower stomach made you shiver. his mouth was at the shell of your ear as his whispered, “you know why i’m here.”

yeonjun pressed kisses down the side of your neck and along your jaw, stopping just before he reached your mouth. “besides, i wanted to see you.”

his hands trailed up your sides and under the thin fabric of the tank top you were wearing. before you knew it, it was over your head and you bare breasts were exposed fully for him. “i wanted to see the pretty flustered faces you make when i’m inside of you.”

cold fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts, tugging down slowly. “and the way you try and avoid my eyes but can’t help but stare. can’t help but let those pretty moans escape your mouth,” yeonjun continued as his lips brushed against yours. he pulled your shorts and panties down until you were completely naked under him.

“you’ve been avoiding me.”

he pulled away completely and stood from your bed, his words hanging in the air. his eyes never left yours as he tugged his black jeans down.

your chest rose and fell heavily as your eyes trailed down to the obvious bulge in his boxers, the dim light of your bedside lamp making it more apparent. you shook your head as your eyes met his gaze once more, “i haven’t.”

you have been avoiding him. not purposely, but you guessed that it was to the extent that he noticed. when he would walk in your direction on campus you would go a different way to your class. you’d force yourself to not let your eyes linger on his retreating frame and instead focused on what the task was at hand.

it shocked you that he noticed, since he usually ignored your existence outside of these four walls. “it just… wouldn’t work…” he had told you once as you stayed curled up against his naked body one night. “we’re like two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards.”

“you have,” yeonjun stated, pulling down his boxers so he too was completely naked, spare the small skull necklace you had gifted him a couple months back. his large cock hit against his lower stomach, the precum dripping from the slit glittering in the dim lighting.

he returned back to his hovering position over you, heavy cock brushing against you and causing your legs to tighten slightly around his waist as arousal pooled at the pit of your stomach. the small skull necklace dangled above your face as his head tilted to the side and plump lips formed a tiny pout. “why?” yeonjun asked, voice lowered.

the tips of his fingers grazed along your hips and left goosebumps in it’s wake as he waited for your answer. your breath hitched in response. “i-it’s—school’s just been hectic…” you trailed. “finals are coming up.”

yeonjun’s head dipped to the crook of your neck. he hummed against the skin, causing you to shiver again. he dragged his nose up your jawline until his lips brushed against yours once more. “liar,” he whispered and then lowered his lips onto yours fully.

he kissed you slowly, yet his lips pressed onto yours roughly. yeonjun’s hands inched up your sides and stopped just below your breasts. he then pulled away just before the two of you struggled for air.

your glasses fell down your nose bridge and he adjusted them for you. “i’ll just have to fuck the answer out of you,” he concluded, his voice louder. his other hand dipping between your legs to collect the slick that formed at your core.

yeonjun spread the slickness all through your folds and throbbing clit, making your back arch off the mattress slightly as a small moan pushed between your lips. “or you could just tell me the truth…” he spoke, thumb rubbing your clit and sending waves of pleasure up your body.

your eyes squeezed shut, “that is t-the truth.”

“come on, baby. you don’t even believe that,” yeonjun responded, incredulous. he hummed again and grabbed his cock with the hand that was circling your clit, rubbing the reddened tip up and down your arousal. he used his other hand to hold down the lower half of your body.

how could you tell him the truth? it was clear that he wasn’t looking for a relationship with you that wasn’t purely physical—and a secret at that. even now, his words rang through your head: “we’re like two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards.”

the two of you didn’t even fit together.

you couldn’t possibly say that you were hopelessly in love with him. that you daydreamed scenarios where the two of you were together, really together. scenarios where you held his hand in public and where he wasn’t afraid to kiss you in front of his friends and anyone else who may be watching.

it was a pipe dream, and you knew it. you knew he knew it, too. and yet…

yet, you wished that maybe your thoughts would be proven wrong. maybe he would smile and say that he loved you too, that he wanted to be with you too. publically.

breath hitching, you said in a low whine, “i’ve been stressed.”

it wasn’t technically a lie, but it was still far from the truth. you just really didn’t want to ruin what the two of you already had going on. it would absolutely crush you, and you already looked at yeonjun like he hung the stars in the sky himself.

your hips rolled up towards his on their own and you dug your head into the pillow underneath you. “i’ve been avoiding everyone, not just you,” you continued.

yeonjun hummed again and you could tell that he still didn’t believe you, but would drop it for the time being. “then i’ll make you feel better.” his lips were on yours again, rough and full of desperate need just as he pushed himself inside you fully.

you broke away from him suddenly, crying out in a loud moan that yeonjun then cut off with his lips. his hand still pressed down on you as he thrusted into you again. he brought his free hand up to cup your face gently, all while you moaned into his mouth.

his pretty lips sucked dark marks onto your neck, claiming you as his as they trailed down to your breasts. the obscene sounds the two of you made together bounced off the walls and you were lucky that you lived alone in this small apartment.

“fuck, you’re so wet. does my cock in you feel good, sweetheart?” yeonjun asked and all you could do was nod as he fucked into you deeper. he nodded along with you, “yeah? you want more? you’re still stressed?”

whimpers fell from your lips as he kissed the love bites he just left. “w-want… more. please,” you begged.

yeonjun chuckled, pretty smile lighting up his features. he then moved the two of you so you were now straddling him as he laid on your bed. your eyes widened in shock. usually he had you pinned under him as he fucked you. never have he let you ride him before.

“ride me, baby?” yeonjun asked. “take all of your stress out on me.”

you inhaled sharply as you looked down at him, looked down at his length laying on his lower abdomen and wet with your arousal. you shook your head. there was no way you were gonna be able to ride him—at least not on your own.

he must’ve sensed your hesitance because he cupped your face and rubbed his thumb along your cheek. “you can do it. you’ve taken all of me before. don’t worry, i’ll help you.” yeonjun’s voice was low with reassurance and you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded.

“okay,” you shakily muttered.

yeonjun nodded again with you, “let me help you feel better.” his hands found your waist and pulled you towards him as he kissed you, melting your worries.

he pulled away and looked down between the both of you as he sat up more. he guided your hips up and reached down to prop his cock up for you. “sit on it,” yeonjun said.

your hands found his biceps and grabbed onto them tightly as you aligned yourself. slowly, your pussy sunk down on him inch by inch, wrapping around his length and filling you up so much that you felt like you could feel him in your chest. yeonjun let out a guttural moan as he fell back against your headboard. “good…” he whimpered out, trying his hardest to steady his breathing. his hands on your waist moved down to your hips as they tightened.

“good girl, just like that. see? i told you you could do it. fuck—“ yeonjun suddenly thrusted up into you, eyes rolling back slightly. “fuck, baby you feel so good,” he breathed out through a moan, “god, you drive me crazy.”

the corners of your mouth rose as you watched his reaction. you never gotten this clear of a view of his face and you were enjoying every moment of it. experimentally, you rolled your hips forward and immediately let out a loud moan. yeonjun’s fingers dug into your hips hard, “s-shit, keep doing that. gonna make me cum if you keep moving those pretty hips like that.”

he moved your hips for you as he stared at you through hooded lids, mouth open as more moans passed his lips. you bet your expression mirrored his as you moved your hips more, brows furrowing as shock waves of pleasure shot up through you.

you placed your hands flat on his bare chest as your hips moved faster. your head flew back as yeonjun kneaded your bouncing tits, thumbs rubbing over your perked nipples. “keep going,” he whined through labored breaths, thrusting his hips up against yours as you moved.

“jjunie, i’m gonna—“ you could barely finish your words as he thrusted up towards you and the rope in your stomach completely snapped. you fell backwards onto your hands, giving him a full view of your shaking body, glistening in the dim lamp light with a layer of sweat.

you tried to catch your breath as best you could as pleasure rippled throughout you and made your limbs feel like jelly. you wanted to help him too, so in a weak motion you used your hands behind your back to roll your hips again, using the last bit of strength to raise your hips as well as you dropped them back down on his throbbing cock.

the sound the two of your bodies made was completely lewd. cum dripped from out of you and around his cock and down his thick length. yeonjun watched the whole thing and you swear you saw the last resolve in him break as his mind completely fogged over. “my fucking god,” he half moaned, half muttered as he sat up completely. in one swift movement his tight grip held your hips and he fucked into you so deep and unrelenting that you saw new galaxies.

all you had was the weakening strength of your arms behind you to keep you afloat, and the more he fucked you, the more it wavered. “you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” yeonjun sputtered between moans. “you and this pretty fucking pussy of yours, devouring my cock whole. all i can fucking think about these days.”

you barely heard anything yeonjun was saying with the ringing in your ears, you think that he barely heard himself, honestly. his mouth was stringing together incoherent words and praises between various curses as he fucked you deeper and deeper. your arms shook and so did your body not just from your rapidly numbing body, but also from the sheer force of his thrusts—so desperate and so sloppy as he chased his incoming release.

“t-too… m-much!” you cried, trying to catch his gaze through the tears forming in your eyes and your tits bouncing in your face. “can’t take a-anymore!”

yeonjun shushed you softly as his hands moved to your waist, his frenzied pace not stopping. he pressed you up against his chest and slammed his lips onto yours. “relax,” he whispered breathlessly between kisses as his body moved in sync with yours, “you can take it.”

he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, moans falling from his parted lips as he released inside of you and filled you up impossibly more. your head fell to the crook of yeonjun’s neck as the two of you caught your breath in comfortable silence. after a couple minutes, yeonjun broke it and breathed, “good job, babygirl.”

yeonjun moved you onto your back, still deep inside of you. he pulled out slowly, the base of his cock covered in a white ring of cum as more of it poured out of you and down the curve of your ass. he watched it all with eager, hungry eyes.

“fuck… look at that,” yeonjun mumbled under his breath. he dragged his thumb along your cum covered folds, pushing some of it back inside you just to watch it pour out of you again. you jerked as your breath hitched and you tried to close your legs but yeonjun used his thighs and free hand to keep them open. “so pretty, makes me want to pump your pussy full of more of my cum,” he continued, louder this time.

he leaned down to greet your lips in a slow kiss, hands touching any part of your body that he could access. the two of you stayed like that for a while as you came down from your sex high, lips locked together. your hands were in his dyed hair, pulling at the tips as you whimpered softly. your core throbbed and you were filled with need once again.

yeonjun smiled against your lips. you had to give it to him, he knew your body well. a low hum came from the back of his throat and he pulled away. “it’s late,” he muttered before kissing your lips again and pulling away fully.

he disappeared for a moment and came back with a warm, wet towel to clean the two of you up. after he turned to pull his boxers back on as you laid under the covers naked. you watched as he started to pull on his black jeans, your heart racing with every tug. all you could think about was how you didn’t want him to go. how you didn’t want to go back to practically being strangers again.

suddenly the words are tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, your head too clouded to think properly about the consequences your words may have. “listen… i—“

“don’t tell me you’re in love with me,” yeonjun joked in a teasing voice as he buckled his belt. your mouth clamped shut and heavy silence filled the room as yeonjun put his shirt and flannel back on. he paused once you didn’t say anything, turning to look at you from your window.

he hesitated before sighing and reaching down to put his boots back on. you tried to not let the tears fill your eyes in front of him as thick tension filled the air, opting to tug the blanket tighter around your body. “let’s not ruin a good thing, okay?” yeonjun said, lowly, avoiding your eyes.

yeonjun opened your window and the cold night air hit you full force, causing goosebumps to form along the parts of your skin that were exposed. the moonlight made the skull necklace around his neck sparkle. “i’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked as he turned to face you.

you hid your face from his view as you looked to the side just as the tear rolled down your cheek. you nodded, it was a solemn nod that you tried to mask. you moved your hand to fix your hair in a discreet way to wipe the tear away and looked at him with the biggest smile you could muster. it didn’t reach your eyes.

you could tell he didn’t buy it and that he wanted to say something about it, but you laid down before he could and focused your eyes on your ceiling. you heard his soft sigh and the window close after he stepped through it, effectively cutting off the cold air blowing into your room.

all at once it felt like the stars had come crashing down around you. no matter how hard you tried, it felt like you couldn’t get oxygen to your lungs and hot, blistering tears fell from your eyes. you heaved in breaths of air that did absolutely nothing.

sobs wracked your body that were so loud you were sure that yeonjun could hear them outside. they hit you like a tidal wave and the pressure of it all was making you drown. you clutched at your chest as you laid in a ball beneath the covers, gasping for air as you cried harder and harder.

how could you be so stupid? you knew the risk—knew that he didn’t feel that way about you and still you opened your big mouth. and for what? you wouldn’t be shocked if your relationship ended here. if you never saw yeonjun again and the two of you went back to being actual strangers, someone who you stared at from a distance.

you’d never see his face again. you’d never see his band tees and smudged eyeliner, never hear his loud rock music that gave you a headache, never feel his skin against yours—again. it was completely and utterly over, and it was all your fault. you felt sick to your stomach.

like a zombie, you rose from the grave that was your bed and numbly put your pajamas back on, feeling disgusted with yourself. you stripped your bed of the old sheets and covers and replaced them with new, clean ones. you shut off your bedside lamp as you fell apart in the darkness, more pained sobs forcing its way through your mouth.

you’d never see yeonjun again—not in the same dim light you once saw him in before.

∿ [ continue on to . . . part two , masterlist , taglist ] 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

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[riddleriddles]

ෆ delicate

ෆ matthew riddle x hufflepuff! shy! reader

ෆ summary: the one in which Matthew can’t leave such a beautiful girl crying alone in a dress like that.

ෆ warnings: English translated from google (please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes), alteration of the history of mattheo and tom (tom is not voldemort but an potions teacher like snape).

ෆ notes: i just love shy!reader so much, im sorry if all my one shots are all with shy or hufflepuff reader, IM JUST A GIRL

𖦹

Parties have never really been your favorite way to spend time, loud music and dancing until your feet hurt in the middle of many strangers, not really your tipe of thing.

But a prom was so different, the music was slow, and the dresses, the delicate makeup, even more the winter ball, with the decorations in light shades of blue and white, was a dream.

Especially when you had someone to spend the night, a date, but maybe for lack of popularity, you hadn’t gotten a pair for tonight, your circle of friends was extremely limited, but if you did not have a pair it was not for lack of desire.

Since the prom was announced, you dreamed of being invited by none other than Cedric Digory.

He was tall, kind, sweet, confident, and extremely outgoing, always surrounded by his friends, but you weren’t special for having the attention picked up by Digory, half the girls of your year also dreamed the same thing as you, on being asked to be his date on the romantic night of the winter dance, unfortunately, you and Cedric, although you’ve interacted a few times - just a few little conversations he pulled during class, or little smiles as you passed each other in the hallway - you were very different, he was extremely confident and liked the attention, you did not.

In the little conversations you shared with him, you believed that those glances and those smiles had a greater meaning, maybe you forgot that he was just polite, or you knew but liked to pretend not, because the feeling was good, of being seen, of someone enjoying holding a conversation, and as much as you didn’t talk so much, he liked your words spoken in a low tone of quiet, or you thought he liked it.

the weeks passed and nothing came, not an owl or a letter, not even a flower, so your hopes were lost, as much as you had heard through the corridors that Cedric Digory had no pair and was considering going alone to the winter ball.

…

With only a few minutes left until the beginning of the prom, you were lying on the bed, wet hair tied in a towel with a robe around your body, looking at the ceiling with your hands resting one on top of the other in the region of your chest.

the room smelled like shampoo and the fragrance of the strawberry liquid soap you shared in the bathroom with your roommates.

"Come on, you need to go!" Lizzie, your closest friend, and roommate says excited, you and she used to make plans for a long time about this dance together. "We've been talking about it for so long, just for you to give up because of Cedric?"

She talks to you while tiing her hair delicately in a built-in braid, her yellow dress contrasting with her brown eyes and blonde hair.

"Oh Liz, you don't understand..." you whine "I don't have a pair, you at least go with someone nice."

"If that's the problem, you know I can leave Oliver dancing alone while we dance together." she rolls her eyes playfully and says excitedly, she looks at you through the mirror, you turn your face so that yours looks to meet, you smile softly at her.

"Don't do that." you say and giggles lightly.

You turn your head up again and sigh.

"All right, I’ll go..." You give yourself defeated and hear a lively scream from Liz, sit on the bed with your legs crossed.

She finishes the braid in her hair and finally turns to you looking for approval.

"do i look good?" She asks making an exaggerated pose with her hands on her waist and a smile from ear to ear.

She had a long yellow dress with several details of embroidered white flowers, and her blonde hair was in a single built-in braid with some messy strands giving her a stripped air, a yellow heel on her feet.

You smile at her and answer with a giggle "You look beautiful Liz, I'm sure Oliver will fall in love with you once again!"

Her smile changes to a shy smile and she looks at herself in the mirror again.

"I'm going to ask one of the girls to do my makeup, I hope that when I get back you'll be very ready for us to go!" She says excited and takes her makeup case, it is white with kittens and pink tulips and fits in the palm of her hand.

You suppress a smile with your lips and nod your head agreeing.

As soon as she leaves the dorm you get out of bed and go to the shared vanity, you sit on the wooden chair looking at your reflection in the mirror.

So you did your best to feel beautiful enough to go to the ball, dried your hair, and made a small braid on each side, a white bow holding them together, a light makeup on your face with a little glitter marking your eyes, and some golden accessories.

You get up from the vanity and walk to the full-length mirror that was on the door of the big wardrobe you shared with Lizzie.

The dress was hanging right next to the mirror, she went to her heels it was a shade of pearly white and made all of silk, it was beautiful, and you have been dreaming of it for so long.

You take it by the hanger and gently dress it with you back to the mirror, after fixing your hair and accessories, you turn to the mirror again and the view enchants you, feeling so beautiful, the dress had fallen so well on your body and your makeup, along with the simple hairstyle that made you so delicate.

Soon you hear the door open and turn quickly.

Lizzie gasped with an admired smile on her face and approached you quickly.

"You look won-der-ful!" She holds your hand and makes you do a little spin, a slight blush of shyness arrives on your cheeks while you give a soft giggle.

She releases from your hand and goes to the chair where two purses are hanging, one in a yellow and white tone and the other all white with small details in golden, she takes your lip gloss on top of the vanity and puts it inside the white purse, along with a mascara and a pink lip moisturizer that she puts in the yellow one, Going to you, she extends the white and you take it and put it on your shoulder.

"Let's go... the girls told me that Oliver is already waiting for me downstairs!" She says excited, ready to leave the dorm.

…

The great hall was splendid, in a whole shade of dark blue, the false sky with small and bright stars, the music was lively but still calm, couples were dancing in the center and some other people and groups of friends on the decorated tables.

You entered right behind Oliver and Lizzie, enjoying the place.

You sat at a table together where you shared a small talk to pass the time, as far as you could no longer ignore the passionate looks that Olive sent to her best friend and decided to leave them alone for a few minutes.

"I'm going to get something to drink, I'll be right back..." you asked excuse me getting up from the table with a gentle smile on her lips, Liz reciprocated shyly before giving all her attention to the brunette next to her.

Following up to a large table that was full of appetizers and different types of drinks, you took a red plastic cup and filled it with strawberry punch, from afar you could see Lizzie and olive sharing laughter, so you decided it was better to stay there for a while.

you got distracted looking down at your fingers while playing with the golden rings there, so distracted that you didn’t hear or notice when a tall brown boy came up to your side.

"Hey! you here!" Cedric said excitedly coming to your side with a little tap on your shoulder.

your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden presence of the boy, you turned to him with a small glance at his hand on your shoulder, visibly shy.

your heart began to beat faster in your chest and suddenly your throat was dry and your head could not find words to answer the boy with such beautiful eyes.

"Cedric... hi" you were louder than usual on account of the music playing, a small smile on your lips.

"You look good." he says in a charming tone approaching you, he passes by your side as he approaches the table behind you.

your cheeks are flushed with the comment and you don't know how to answer so you just chuckle shyly and admire him as he looks at the table.

"Thank you." you wanted to say that he looked good too but the words don’t seem to want to leave your mouth.

He serves himself in a red plastic cup just like yours, you watch him as he takes a gray canteen out of his suit pocket and baptizes the drink in the cup, you look at him and he seems not to notice, you look away at the couples dancing in the center of the Great hall.

He leans against your side, an arm leaning on the table behind your back without touching you, you suppress your lips, nervous with his proximity, playing with your rings again you swear you can feel your heart almost jumping from your chest.

He lifts the canteen as if offering you some of the whiskey he kept in his suit.

"Do you drink?" he asks with a gentle smile as if asking a casual question.

you look around nervous to see if any teacher is looking at you, which fortunately is not.

"No, but thank you." you gently refuse with a shy smile, he nods and hides the canteen on his suit again.

Now it’s his turn to watch the couples dancing in the center of the prom, a huge jealousy hitting his chest as he sees Cho Chang dancing in the arms of another boy.

You don’t follow his gaze, still playing your rings, the silence starts to bother you when he suddenly catches your hand, you look at him surprised, kinda bothered by the sudden touch.

"Do you want to dance?" he asks with an almost nervous smile.

suddenly you were speechless again, he wanted to dance? with you?

you nodded looking a little bit more lively, a big smile popping up on your lips.

was playing a song you didn’t know as Cedric took you to the center of the Great Hall, his hand resting on your waist.

you danced in a funny sync, but for you, everything seemed perfect. At least until you realize that Cedric wasn’t even paying attention to you.

you exclaimed softly in pain as he stepped on a finger as you danced, stopping for a few seconds.

He suddenly takes his eyes off something he was staring at behind you and looks at you surprised, then gives a little look at your foot, realizing his mistake.

"Oh, sorry, really sorry, I swear I’m not that bad normally" he apologizes with a nervous expression.

You can only nod your head and agree with a fake smile realizing that he doesn’t even care to look at you while apologizing, you follow his gaze and find none other than Cho Chang dancing and laughing with some other Corvinal boy.

You look away before he notices, and look down at your feet, gathering the courage to give an excuse to leave, he seems to notice.

"hey... you all right?" he asks with a gentle little smile and pretending to be worried.

So you look up at him, and you realize that he wasn’t trying to hurt you, of course, it was a little rude to treat you as a second choice, but it wasn’t his fault if he didn’t have feelings for you.

You sigh quietly “im sorry, cedric, i gotta go”

You don’t wait for an answer and get rid of his arms without looking at him because you know if he asks looking in your eyes you would stay.

Passing the couples dancing together you run a firm step out of the Great Hall, hoping to be alone for a while.

The thought of coming to the prom alone was beginning to look pathetic in your head, you should have stayed in your dorm.

you pass through the corridor of the stairs and follow to the courtyard, a bubble of anguish forming in your throat, along with the burning in the tip of your nose, indicating the will to cry.

You always used to cry for silly things, as simple as they were, like the end of a romantic book, or a sad movie, sometimes happiness, sometimes anger.

Now you felt pathetic, for not having a pair and having been made second choice, a mixture of sadness and upset formed the tears in the corner of your eyes.

You leaned on the stone wall, your hands covering your eyes to prevent more tears from falling.

the sound of you back on the stone wall catches Matthew attention, he looks back and would not have noticed that you were crying if not for the hand in your eyes, you sobbed silently.

He lets the cigarette smoke out of his mouth still holding it between his lips if he mentally asks if he should ask you what was happening or should sneak out while you hadn’t noticed his presence.

He analyzes your whole body, from the white Maryjane on your feet to the jewelry you wore on your neck, before sighing softly and taking the cigarette out of his mouth, his night was so boring that he needed a distraction.

Matthew also did not have a prom date, but not for lack of choice, nor would he come to this dance considered ridiculous in his vision, refused one or two dates saying that he would not attend, unfortunately, Lorenzo, one of his best friends, convinced him to stay at least a few minutes before disappearing with his escort, Matthew tired of being alone decided to go out to smoke without being caught by some of the teachers, he planned to finish and climb back to his dorm.

His plans were ruined.

You feel the smell of cigarettes and the presence next to you and take your hand out of your eyes to look at Matthew next to you, your cheeks red by crying, and now the shame of being caught crying, matching with the tip of your nose also reddish and your eyes glowing with tears.

He looks at you and then realizes why your dress is white, was to match your angelic appearance, he notes mentally to thank Lorenzo later for forcing him to come.

"hi." he whispers with a neutral expression, not so serious but also not smiling.

"Hi?" you whisper, yet come out as a question.

You wipe the corner of your eyes, looking elsewhere than him, still ashamed of being caught crying over something so silly.

"Why aren’t you at the prom?" he asks as if you’re not crying, without asking your name as if you already know each other.

Uncertain of what to say, because you did not want to open up to a stranger, especially when the unknown was the son of the frightening professor of potions, Tom Riddle.

"I... found it boring." you whisper shyly, your hands playing with the heart pendant of your necklace.

"so boring that it made you want to cry? what a coincidence, me too, I just wiped my tears." he says with a serious tone but visibly joking.

You let out a giggle realizing that he took your lie, forgetting what had just happened.

"All right, it’s just a silly motive."

"Will you tell me you don’t have someone to dance with?" he asks with a giggle as if he’s joking.

"I haven’t." Your smile falls and you look at your own feet.

He tilts his head to look at your face, not believing that someone so beautiful and dressed so well is crying for not having someone to dance with.

"you’re lying."

"I’m not." you whisper uncertainly and he giggles out of disbelief.

After a few seconds in silence, he puts the cigarette in his mouth again, and from a puff, you watch as he releases the smoke between his lips and takes the cigarette out of his mouth again.

The cold began to bother you, your hands rose and your arms crossed above your chest in search of heat, he notices and comes a little closer, not so much not to scare you.

"Was it someone who made you cry?" he asks quietly, alternating between looking at you and the cigarette on his fingers.

"yes."

"your boyfriend?"

"No." you reply, feeling foolish again, for crying over a boy who isn’t even your boyfriend. "It’s silly."

He stares at you as he leans his head against a stone wall, your eyes still sparkling from tears as you look at your shoe, he notes that the tears lightly blurred your mascara.

He lifts his fingers to the tip of your eyes and passes his thumb over the stain carefully, you look at him uncertain with the proximity, your cheeks turning pink again, and he smiles noticing you blushing with the touch.

"was stained" he clarifies

"with mascara?" he nods agreeing, the cold starting to bother him too.

"Don’t you want to come in? It’s getting cold in here, and you’re out of coat." He whispers, putting his cigarette out on the wall behind him, before throwing it on the floor, wet from the rain earlier.

"I think I’ll go back to my dorm." you whisper letting your hands slip to the side of your body.

"Oh no you can’t leave," he says quickly, thinking of some reason to make you stay, not knowing that you didn’t need much because you hadn’t yet learned to say no, as much as it was someone unknown.

"I can’t?" you ask confused

"No... because... I wanted you to dance with me." he says at once without thinking, dancing? he didn’t dance, what had gone through his head?

His voice comes out neutral but he curses himself mentally, he did not want you to leave but he also did not want to dance.

"Do you want to dance with me?" you blush and suppress a smirk, he sighs without knowing how to answer.

"Yes." No, he doesn’t.

you smile with the words that come out of his lips.

Ok, maybe he wants, just a little.

"Okay." you smile shyly, looking at him slightly flushed, he looks between your glossy lips and your eyes shining.

He accompanies you to the Great hall again, making silly comments to keep you distracted, you thank him mentally.

"I don’t have a pair either, nor is it that bad right?" he says as you arrive.

"not much" you respond softly

a song ends when you arrive, and one of your favorite songs starts playing.

You take a deep breath and your smile increases, you start to think that the universe was trying to make you sad just to make you happy again.

Matthew has his hand on your waist while guiding you to the center of the Great Hall, which did not have as many couples as before, Fade Into You played in the background while the lights changed to a dark blue tone.

Your chests were glued and you were smaller than him, he can smell the floral smell of your shampoo, and then he takes a deep breath discreetly to feel it better.

You look up at him shyly, not knowing what to say to end the silence.

I wanna hold the hand Inside you

you whisper something quietly to him

I wanna take the breath thats true

"Sorry, I didn’t catch that" he whispers so just you can hear and bends down a little to hear you better, your bodies still dancing in sync truly perfect.

I look to you and i see nothing

you stand on tiptoe, your hand on his shoulder as you say in his ear "Thank you" It is still low but he could hear why you said it in his ear this time.

i look to you to see the truth

He had no idea what you were thanking him for, and neither did you.

You live your life, you go in shadows

"oh no, I should thank you." He whispers back to you, he talks louder, and he doesn’t have to say it in your ear, but he does it anyway.

You’ll come apart and you'll go blind

you shiver with his hoarse voice in your ear as he smiles at your reaction, realizing that maybe he likes to see you blush, even if the blue light is in the way.

Some kind of night into your darkness

he leaves a kiss on your neck next to your ear before he looks up again, his action making your heart race, you had never received this much attention from some boy.

Colors your eyes with what is not there

you smile shyly and he reciprocates before looking up around, you lower your head, and lean on his shoulder, while your bodies dance slowly, his hand that was previously intertwined with yours loose and goes down to your waist, his hand that was once intertwined with yours loose and descends to your waist, his arms hold you there, on his chest, your own hands follow his movements and climb to his neck, the silence began to get comfortable.

Fade into you

Stranger, you never knew

Fade into you

[maxtermind]

requesting an f1 fic inspired by the song “reckless driving” by lizzie mcalpine ft ben kessler? 🙏🙏 (any driver & i adore your work)

never felt this way with no one

★ : feat :: oscar piastri x reader ★ : genre :: flufff, mature ★ : word count :: 1k+ ★ : a/n :: i love lizzy so much, this was so fun to write

you were driving while a slow song was playing on the radio and as soon as there was a red light, you stopped and smiled before turning your head to look at—

oscar held your face in his hands before slamming his lips against yours. you eyes widened before you closed them and kissed him back.

he tasted sweet like the dessert you guys got before leaving the restaurant.

he deepened the kiss as his hand slipped from your face to the back of your head. it was too consuming but good.

as you got lost in mingled breaths and soft lips, the light turned green and a loud horn from behind had you stumbling backwards.

oscar cleared his throat as you started the car again. refusing to face you because his face was tinted and his heartbeat was so loud he could hear it in his ears.

what he missed out on was your own cheeks that were burning as your mouth stayed in an upright position. hard to stop smiling because this— him. it was exactly what you you were expecting from today through all the nervous getting ready for the date.

"i'm sorry..." he started before you shook your head.

"i'm glad you did, don't apologise." you murmured trying to breathe and get rid of your smile.

"i wouldn't have... i mean i wanted to but—"

you stumbled over your words but finally looked at him as oscar's hand squeezed your hand that was closest to him.

"i wanted to do it more." he admitted. "i've been thinking about it all night. i just... i wasn't sure if you'd want me to."

you chuckled as you shuffled to get comfortable in your seat, your eyes on the road, feeling a little braver now.

"oscar, i've been hoping you'd kiss me since you picked me up."

he laughed, the sound light and full of relief. "really? i've been so nervous. i kept trying to find the right moment."

you turned onto a quieter street, feeling the tension from earlier melting away. fuck, where were you even driving to? one kiss and the man had turned you into a mess

"i guess the red light was the perfect moment."

oscar nodded, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "yeah, it was."

you glanced at him to see why he trailed off and were satisfied to see that he was already looking at you— at your lips and your skin felt like it was on fire.

you knew what he wanted because you wanted the same— more.

oscar sighed as you pulled into a parking lot, putting the car in park before turning to face him fully. your insides burning with the desire to feel his skin again.

"well, we're not driving anymore." you whispered, not knowing where this recklessness was coming from.

oscar grinned and shook his head as he leaned in close once again. "no, we're not."

he kissed you again, this time slower, more tender. you wanted to be careful, not wanting to kill the flame before it was even lit but as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, you melted into him, your hands threading through his hair.

and you decided that just this once, you’ll give in and let him take the lead even if his hands are off of the lead.

the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent. your breaths mingled, the car feeling both too small and too intimate. but you guys were too far gone now when he pulled you over onto his lap.

oscar's hand slid under your shirt, his touch feather-light against your skin as you gripped his thigh. you gasped softly when he rubbed circles on your waist and kissed down your neck, the sensation sending shivers down your spine.

you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his as you both tried to catch your breath. "oscar," you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

he looked into your eyes, his own dark with desire. "god you’re driving me insane," he admitted, his voice low and husky.

you nodded, suddenly you brain too foggy to reply coherently, feeling the same burning need. "i want you too."

his hands continued roaming over your body, exploring, caressing. your own hands were busy, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against yours. you managed to get it open, your hands sliding over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles.

oscar's lips found your collarbone, kissing, nibbling. you arched against him, a soft moan escaping your lips as you realized that he was leaving a mark. the heat between you was almost unbearable.

but then, as you both tried to maneuver in the cramped space, you couldn't help but laugh. the steering wheel, the gear shift, everything was in the way.

"i'm too jelly, i can't drive," you admitted, breathless and laughing.

oscar grinned, his own laughter joining yours. "you know i can drive," he said, a teasing glint in his eye.

you cracked a joke, unable to resist. "would i be worried about your driving skills off the track?"

"i think you'll be safe with me." he laughed, the sound rich and full. “won’t let anything happen to you baby.”

you leaned in for one more kiss, slow and sweet, savoring the taste of him. when you finally pulled back, you were both smiling.

oscar took the keys from you, and moved to the driving seat, still feeling the lingering heat of his touch on your skin.

you didn’t know how this happened, but you were glad it did. that it went this far. feeling like a teenager when you noticed that oscar couldn’t keep his eyes on the road.

“eyes on the road,” you joked, your breath hitching suddenly when he leaned over to squeeze your thigh in reply.

you sneaked your hand towards his vacant one and intertwined your fingers, blushing furiously when he pulled the joined hands towards his mouth to leave a kiss.

"want to go back to my place?" he said shyly, expecting you to turn him down.

but you felt a warmth spread through you at his question, the simplicity of it making your heart swell. "yes, i would love that," you whispered, your voice soft and full of affection.

(grid masterlist \ masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[dixons-sunshine]

Sweetest | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wounded and benched from runs for the week, Daryl was asked to watch the kids in the prison while you and some of the others worked on repairing a breach in one of the fences. One of the kids asked Daryl how he met you, his wife, and it made for a rather sweet tale.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.6k.

A/n: This turned out worse than I hoped, better than I expected. I don't really know how to explain it, but I hope you like this! (Thank you @ddamm and @dixondystopia for giving me your favourite moments from the entire series to add to this! They were pretty much the same, so great minds truly do think alike, as they say.)

“Mr Dixon?”

At the sound of his name being called, Daryl looked up from his baby girl and locked eyes with a little girl—Mika, he believed her name was—who was staring at him with a big smile. “Yeah?” he replied, slightly bouncing his knee when Hazel began fussing a little.

Mika giggled slightly, sharing a look with her sister, Lizzie, before turning back to the archer. “Mrs Dixon is your wife, right?” she inquired, bouncing slightly on her feet.

Daryl's lips involuntarily twitched up at the mere mention of you. He nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah? Why do ya ask?”

“Well, my dad likes to talk about how he met my mom. Mr Greene has told us how he met his last wife a million times. We wanna know how you met Mrs Dixon!”

Almost as if for added emphasis, the other children all perked up and voiced their interest in knowing the tale of how Daryl met you, his beautiful wife. The archer, both amused by the children's nosiness and embarrassed by the metaphorical spotlight he was placed under, let out a small scoff and adjusted Hazel in his arms, allowing the small girl to happily toy with his fingers. “It ain't some big love story or nothin'. It'll only bore ya.”

“No, it won't,” Carl added from his position atop one of the tables. The teenager had been sulking because Rick had forbade him from helping fix the breach in the fence—where several walkers had managed to crawl through—but the chance of getting to know some insight to one of the most talked about couples in the prison brightened his mood somewhat. You and Daryl were the only couple that dated back before the outbreak, and everyone was eager to know how the two of you got together, and how you managed to keep that spark alive. “We wanna know. Come on, Daryl. Please.”

Daryl let out a small groan and rolled his eyes at the young Grimes' insistence. “Why dun' y'all go pester Glenn or somebody? M'sure he'd be more than happy to tell y'all 'bout how he met Maggie.”

“But he's told us that story a zillion times already,” one of the kids groaned. “We wanna hear your story. Please, Mr Dixon.”

Daryl let out a deep sigh. From somewhere behind him, he could hear Carol chuckle, closely followed by the chuckles of a few of the adults that were taking a break from their chores around the prison. Daryl shook his head and pursed his lips. “Y'all really wanna hear?” Almost instantly, all of the kids perked up and simultaneously voiced their clear interest, trying to talk over the other. Daryl raised his eyebrows and let out a small chuckle. “Woah, calm down. I ain't sayin' nothin' 'til y'all quiet down.” And just like that, it got so quiet, one could hear a pin drop. “Y/n and I go back many years, long 'fore all'a y'all kids were born. We're closin' in on three decades'a knowin' one another.”

“Thirty years?” Carl voiced in a disbelieving tone. “That's basically forever!”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Guess ya can say tha', yeah.” Daryl shushed Hazel when she began fussing a bit, lightly tickling her stomach to coax a laugh from her. “We met when we were twelve, 'side this river in the woods outside the trailer park we lived in. I admit, I didn't know wha' to think'a her at first. Refused to talk to her fer a whole month, but she never gave up. She kept pesterin' me 'til one day, somethin' happened and I broke my quiet facade. Tha's when we started becomin' friends.” Daryl stopped and tried to hide the smile that spread across his face, but to no avail. “She, uh... She quickly became my best friend after tha'.”

“When did you start love-liking her?” one of the kids asked with a giggle, closely followed by the mischievous laughter of the other kids.

Daryl hummed and shrugged. “After she did somethin' fer my sixteenth birthday. I liked her fer a while 'fore tha', but tha' occasion was my wake-up call. My feelin's fer her slapped me righ' in the face tha' day.” He stopped and let out a small sigh before continuing. “I didn't have the balls to confess to her fer 'nother year after tha'. And when I did confess, it was righ' after we went and bought pa—” Daryl cut himself off, painfully aware of the immature teenage boys that would freak out over the mere mention of pads. Because of that, he altered the truth a little. “...Pasta fer dinner tha' nigh'. Things escalated and we kissed, and then her mom walked in.”

“No,” Beth gasped, slightly tightening her grip on Judith as she thought of the embarrassing scenario.

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “It was embarrassin' as shi—crap, tha's fer sure, but we lived. Her mom was nice 'bout it all. Definitely didn't mean we could escape her teasin', though.” He pursed his lips as he thought of that moment, the embarrassment still fresh in his mind, even all those years later. “Her teasin' got even worse when Y/n and I eloped. She was kinda upset 'bout it, but she soon went straight back to teasin' us fer not bein' able to wait to have a proper weddin'.”

By that point, unbeknownst to the archer, the group that had been working on fixing the fence—a group that included you—had silently stepped into the part of the prison everyone was in to alert the kids to the fact that they could go play. However, once they heard what the crossbow-wielding man was talking about, they stopped and remained quiet, eager to hear about it all. And you stayed quiet as well, quite shocked that your husband was willingly telling stories about his past with you. He preferred to keep that part of his life private, but there he was, happily talking away. It made your heart swell with love and affection for the man.

“The two of you stayed together for all those years?” Zach—Beth's boyfriend—asked, leaning against the wall. When Daryl nodded, he continued. “How?”

Daryl shrugged and adjusted his daughter in his arms again, feeling her head begin to droop as she was beginning to fall asleep. “I love 'er. And fer some reason I still don't understand 'til this day, she loves me. Ain't tha' hard to stay committed to the person ya love the most. Relationships ain't always all sunshines and rainbows, but when yer with the person ya love, s'all worth it. Y/n taught me tha'. She's the sweetest person ever. I dun' know wha' I did to deserve her, but I thank my lucky stars every day tha' I get to call her mine.”

It went silent after that. The only sound that could be heard was the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the fences. That is, until Rick spoke up from behind the huntsman, startling him and alerting him to the fact that essentially everyone had heard him practically rave about you.

“Well said, brother. Well said,” Rick complimented him, a faint, teasing smile on his face. He turned towards the younger ones in the group and gestured towards the door. “Y'all can go play now. Just stay away from the fences.” And just like that, all the kids—except Carl—had forgotten their need to hear about Daryl's love story with you. They all excitedly darted out the door, their laughter fading as they disappeared out the doors.

Michonne smirked, playfully hitting you on the back. “Y/n, you never told me you found such a keeper. And you found him early on, too. You're so lucky.”

“Yeah, she is,” Carol chipped in, a teasing smile on her face as well. “Did I ever tell you about this one guy in our old camp that insulted her and Daryl instantly put him on his ass? He did accidentally reveal her pregnancy while doing so, but that's besides the point.”

“Was it Shane?” Rick asked, sighing when Carol nodded. “Yeah, of course it was,” he mumbled while he shook his head.

“Not to mention how he nearly killed Jenner because he wouldn't let us out—well, wouldn't let them out. He didn't care much for us back then. We all know he only wanted the doors open so that Y/n was safe,” Glenn piped in.

“Aw,” Michonne cooed teasingly. “That is so sweet, Daryl. You're just a big teddy bear.”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment as the others joined in on the teasing as well. He could feel his cheeks flush, and he would've gotten up and bolted from the embarrassing situation, had it not been for the fact that Hazel had just fallen asleep, and he didn't want to wake her.

The feeling of your hand being rested on his shoulder almost instantly made him calm down, your familiar touch bringing a sense of comfort to him. The rest of the group were to busy relaying their favourite moments they had seen between the two of you to notice this interaction, and the archer was glad about that. He was also glad that they couldn't hear what you whispered in his ear, because although Daryl Dixon wasn't a selfish man, the others didn't have to hear these words you clearly meant just for him:

“I'm proud of you. You climbed out of your shell today and did something I know you don't always enjoy doing. You're amazing, Daryl Dixon, and I love you so much.” You placed a soft, tender kiss on his cheek. “You really are the sweetest person ever.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[breezeflows]

The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)

Chapter 3

WOOP WOOP CHAPTER 3 IS HERE AND BOY IS IT JUICY🫣 On a serious note though, we are finally getting into some of the exciting bits of the story!! I’m hoping by the next chapter we will finally be back in the present. No more sad flashbacks!! Also y’all writing Lizzy is genuinely my favorite. If this fic wasn’t about Ford I’d be wifing her up instead😔 Anyways- here’s chapter 3 you lovely souls!

Themes: Consumption of alcohol (reader lowkey gets wasted), major hangover, bill himself is a warning, suggestiveness kind of?? idk, heartache, lizzy is overall an amazing friend, alllll the angst and feelings, injuries, etc okay enjoy!

The drive to Lizzy’s place is quiet, the steady hum of the car engine and the sound of raindrops against the windshield the only background noise. You sit in the passenger seat, watching the trees pass by through the window as you fiddle with the wedding band around your finger. Lizzy glances at you occasionally, a small frown on her face as she senses your mood. She remains silent for most of the ride, giving you space to process your emotions if need be.

It's not long before the car rolls to a stop in front of her apartment building. You reach around to gather your belongings from the backseat and step out into the rainy afternoon. Lizzy follows suit, bright pink umbrella in hand as she leads you towards the entrance.

Once inside the building, she unlocks the door to her apartment building and the two of you usher inside. The soft yellow light of the living room envelopes you, creating a cozy atmosphere in stark contrast to the gloominess outside.

Lizzy begins to kick off her shoes, hanging her keys as she silently studies your face. She can see the turmoil in your eyes, and the uncertainty you’re trying to hide.

“So,” she says gently, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

Your eyes snap out of the daze they were in as you look over at Lizzy, giving her a weak smile.

“Oh, yeah I guess. Things went a lot better than I thought they would.”

Her expression relaxes at your response, a hint of relief showing on her face.

“That’s good,” she says as she walks over to the couch and plops down on it, gesturing for you to do the same. “I was half-expecting a tearful scene or something, honestly.”

You manage a light chuckle at her remark, plopping down on the couch next to her. You pull your knees to your chest as you grab a blanket draped across the back of it, wrapping it around you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Ford took it pretty well, actually. Better than I expected.”

Lizzy raises a brow as she leans against the back cushions, her arms crossing. “Girl, he better take it well after what he said to you. If it had been me, I would’ve dropped his ass on the spot.”

You can’t help but let out a small snort of laughter at her words, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips for the first time in a while. It’s a relief to have Lizzy’s no-nonsense attitude around, her bluntness serving as a much-needed dose of honesty.

“Yeah, yeah Liz, I know.” you admit, the smile still lingering on your face. “I was a little tempted.”

Lizzy grins, satisfied with your response as she reaches over and pats your knee supportively.

“As you should,” she says with a nod. “You don’t deserve treatment like that of any kind, no matter how important his research is to him.”

You frown slightly at her words, opting to pick at the blanket below as a distraction.

“Yeah..”

Lizzy watches your expression carefully, sensing your discomfort. She tilts her head slightly, her gaze searching your face.

“But you don’t quite agree, do you?” she probes gently.

You let out a sigh, unsure how to articulate your feelings as you continue to fiddle with the fabric of the blanket.

“It’s just… complicated Liz,” you say, your voice tinged with guilt and frustration. “Yes, I’m hurt and angry with him, but I also understand where he’s coming from. We’ve been together almost our whole lives, and this is all he has ever worked towards. His research is important to him, and he’s under a lot of pressure.”

Lizzy nods slowly as she listens to your words, her expression a mix of understanding and concern. She reaches over and places a hand on top of yours, stopping your nervous fidgeting.

“I get that Y/N, I do,” she says quietly. “And I’m not saying he’s completely in the wrong. But you shouldn’t have to feel like an afterthought in his life either. That’s not fair to you.”

Your eyes brim with tears at her response, your hand twisting and taking hers tightly.

“I know,” you say, your voice threatening to break. “I just wish we could fix things..”

Lizzy squeezes your hand as your tear-filled eyes meet hers.

“And you will, Y/N. It’ll just take some time.”

A small, wobbly smile forms on your lips at her reassurance, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. The hope that you might be able to fix things with Ford, to find a way to bridge the gap that’s widened between you both, is a small but significant comfort.

“Thank you, Liz,” you murmur, your voice still shaky. “I really hope you’re right.”

Lizzy stands with a smile, her hand pulling away from yours and resting on your shoulder.

“I know I’m right chick, because you two love each other. I’ve seen it.”

Your heart warms at her confidence, a soft smile forming on your lips as you nod.

“Now, how about some pizza?”

The few weeks you spend with Lizzy fly by, days passing in a blur of movies, late-night conversations, and plenty of chocolate induced comfort eating. As the final night of your stay approaches, Lizzy turns to you with a sly grin on her face.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been pretty reclusive the past couple of weeks, but it’s your last night here and I refuse to let you spend it watching crappy movies in my living room.”

She places her hands on her hips and gives you a stern look.

“We’re going out for drinks and that’s final.”

You mope as you walk into her view from the bathroom, your voice annoyed and pleading as you speak.

“Liz, I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m a married woman, and this dress feels less than... modest.”

Lizzy rolls her eyes, her expression clearly unconvinced.

“Girl, you’re not here to pick up someone, you’re here to have fun. And as for the dress I picked out for you, it looks fantastic. Stop overthinking it.”

She gives you a onceover, inspecting your outfit.

“Besides, I’d like to see anyone who tries hitting on you tonight.”

You pout as you watch her, pulling down your dress so it covers your knees.

“I don’t know how Ford would feel about this..”

Lizzy scoffs, shaking her head.

“Ford’s not here, and we both know he should be the last person you’re trying to impress right now. You’re still young, and attractive Y/N, you deserve to enjoy yourself for one night without him on your mind. Not to mention you’ve got to live your life without kids while you can. I know the two of you have talked about it. ”

She grabs the hem of your dress and tugs it back up, flashing you a defiant look.

“And if he has a problem with you having fun, he can talk to me.”

You sigh as you give in, knowing Lizzy wouldn’t be changing her mind about your all’s plans for the night.

“Fine, fine. But we’re not staying out too late, okay?”

Lizzy grins, victorious.

“That’s more like it! And don’t worry, I promise we won’t be out until dawn,” she assures you. “Just a few drinks, maybe a little dancing, and then we’ll come back here. You trust me, right?”

“More than anything Liz.”

And that’s how you find yourself at the bar now, one too many drinks in and slumped against Lizzy’s shoulder.

She laughs at your state, her own cheeks flushed from drinking. She slings an arm around your shoulders, keeping you upright and steady in the booth the two of you occupied.

“Goodness chick, are you already trashed? We’ve barely been here an hour!” she teases, her voice lighthearted and amused.

You grumble something in response, your head spinning from the alcohol in your system. You take another sip from your glass, your tongue loose and inhibitions lowered.

“I blame you,” you slur, pointing an accusatory finger at Lizzy. “You’re a bad influence.”

Lizzy laughs loudly at your accusation, her eyes sparkling. “No one forced you to down those shots, Y/N,” she says, sliding out of the booth with ease. “I’m going to get you some water, alright? You stay right here in your seat.”

You nod lazily at her words, the idea of staying where you are very appealing. You watch groggily as she strides away, her bell bottoms and flare top in tow. She weaves through the crowd to make her way to the counter, your eyes becoming heavy.

Just as you’re starting to doze off from the alcohol, a presence suddenly sits down in the booth across from you. You blink in surprise, your vision clearing slightly as you focus on the newcomer.

Your eyes widen as you recognize your husband’s face, his features strangely serious and intense as he stares back at you. But there’s something off about him… Something otherworldly in his gaze that sends a chill down your spine.

“Well, well,” he says, his voice cool and calculated. “If it isn’t dear Y/N. You look a little worse for wear.”

Your vision blurs as you grip the side of the table, your words slurred as you speak.

“F.. Ford?”

Ford smiles widely, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. The expression is slightly unfamiliar, different from the familiar warmth you’re used to. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“In the flesh, honey,” he drawls, his voice smooth and flirtatious.

“But I see you’ve had quite a few drinks already. Feeling a little dazed? I wonder how Sixer would feel about me seeing you in this state and not him. Hilarious!”

Your arm trembles weakly as you hold yourself up, vision blurring in and out as you sway slightly in your seat.

“Wha.. What? Why are you.. here..?”

His lips curl into a smug smirk as he eyes your disheveled form, eyes lingering on your exposed skin, clearly enjoying your confusion and intoxication.

“Oh, I had a little chat with Fordsy earlier. He agreed to let me take the reins for a few hours…”

He gives a careless shrug. “You know how he is. All work and no play. Figured I’d take advantage of the situation, hell, I even got him a new tattoo!”

You sit there, dumbfounded and wavering in and out of consciousness as your mind tried to process what Ford was talking about.

Ford’s – or rather, Bill’s – eyes rake over you again, giving an exaggerated sigh before his lips turned into a sly grin.

“You really are a sight for sore eyes, I can see why Sixer married you.”

Your thoughts are still spinning from the alcohol, making it hard to focus on the conversation. You struggle to keep yourself upright, your body feeling heavy and numb.

Bill notices your dazed state, chuckling as he gives a mockingly sympathetic tone.

“You look a little out of it, darling. You really shouldn’t have had so much to drink. Especially considering how easy it’d be to trick you into a deal right now.”

Your mind races with confusion as you stand up weakly, your gut telling you something wasn’t right as you sway back and forth, (Or maybe it was the alcohol) your vision blurring as you scan the place in search of Lizzy.

“Going somewhere? Those human legs of yours don’t look very stable!”

You wobble forward, ignoring his protests as you keep moving.

“You really should listen to me if you want to avoid that nasty bruise tomorrow!”

He calls out, and before you know it you trip, and everything goes black.

Hours later… aka early morning.

You slowly open your eyes, your head pounding and your memories fuzzy. You realize you’re lying on a couch in Lizzy’s apartment, a cool cloth pressed over what you assume to be a large tender bruise on your forehead.

Lizzy is sitting perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. She notices your eyes flutter open and lets out a relieved sigh.

“Oh thank god,” she mutters. “You had me worried for a second there. I stayed up with you all night waiting for you to wake up.”

“Liz?” you mumble, head pounding. “What the hell happened? My head is killing me..”

Her expression softens at your groggy murmur, her hand reaching out instinctively to brush the hair away from your face.

“Hey, take it easy,” she says, voice low and soothing. “You took a pretty nasty fall back at the bar. Hit your head on a table on the way down.”

Your eyes widen as your memory jogs itself.

“What..? Wait, Ford.. Ford was there?”

Lizzy freezes, her expression guarded at the mention of Ford. She averts her gaze, focusing her attention on the cloth that she’s holding against your forehead.

“Uh, yeah,” she says, her voice hesitant. “He showed up towards the end of the night when I went to grab you a water… You don’t remember?”

You think to yourself for a moment, your memory patchy and vague.

“I mean, I kind of do. But it was weird? Did something happen?”

Lizzy is silent, her gaze still firmly averted from yours. She adjusts the cloth, pressing it against your head with a little more pressure than necessary.

“Nothing happened,” she finally says, her voice tight. “You just had a little too much to drink and tripped, that’s all.”

Her words are curt and dismissive, clearly trying to downplay the situation. But there’s something in her expression, a flicker of unease that betrays her true emotions.

She glances at you briefly, her eyes meeting yours for a split second before moving back to your injury.

“Lizzy..?” you say, silently pleading with her to tell you the full truth.

She exhales slowly, her shoulders slumping in resignation. She knows you’re not going to let this go, and she owes you the truth.

“Alright, fine,” she mutters avoiding your gaze. “When I got back to the booth, it was exactly when you had fell..”

You listen closely, sitting yourself up slightly.

“I had noticed Ford when I got there, sure, but when I went to go help you..”

Lizzy pauses, a frown forming on her face as she continues.

“Ford laughed,” she says as her eyes meet yours, full of concern and.. fear? “And not in a lighthearted way, in a cruel mocking way Y/N..”

Lizzy lowers the cloth from your head, placing it in her lap as you sit there, dumbfounded.

“He was just… enjoying the view, I guess,” She mutters bitterly. “Like you were some kind of joke, I don’t know Y/N. It was fucking weird, really fucking weird. I didn’t like it. He laughed as if he was the one who had done it.”

Lizzy trails off, brows furrowed as she clenches her fists. While you, on the other hand, are utterly speechless.

Your mind reels with this new information, struggling to reconcile the image of Ford – laughing coldly and mockingly at your predicament - with the caring, affectionate husband you’ve known him to be your whole life.

“I… I don’t understand,” you stutter, your voice small and confused.

“He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t do that. Not Ford.”

But as you say those words, you can’t help but recall the other strange things that had happened earlier that night. Ford’s detached demeanor, his unfamiliar choice of words, the way he seemed so cold and calculating. Your heart clenches in your chest at the thought, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Had something happened over the few weeks you’ve been gone? Did Ford get too deep in his research? Something wasn’t right.

As you try to make sense of the situation, Lizzy watches you with a mix of compassion and concern. She knows this is incredibly tough for you to hear, but she also seems to have her own worries about the situation.

“I don’t know Y/N,” she says quietly, her hands twisting in her lap. “It was just… so not him. I don’t know what the hell happened. But I’ve never seen him act like that before. It’s like he was a different person.”

Her voice trails off, leaving the two of you in silence as you’re both lost in thought.

Eventually, Lizzy breaks the silence, her voice sympathetic as she places a hand on top of yours.

“How about this, you rest up today, and when you’re ready, I’ll take you to the cabin to get some answers from Ford? Only if you feel comfortable, of course.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside of you.

“Alright,” you murmur. “I’m still feeling pretty rough, but I’d like to see him… tonight, if possible.”

Despite your confusion and worry, you know that facing your husband and talking with him is the only way to get answers. The answers that you crave so desperately in hopes that it’ll mend your breaking heart - and marriage.

Lizzy gives you a reassuring nod.

“Of course,” she says gently. “You rest up, and I’ll come get you when it’s time to go.”

She stands up, gently readjusting the cloth on your head.

“Try to get some sleep, okay?”

You nod, laying yourself back down.

You’re going to need it to cross the bridge that awaits you tonight.

READER AND BILL INTERACTION WOOP WOOP!! Also I’m not gonna lie, I feel like I messed up the timeline a little bit but I’m just gonna go for it. Thank you for reading! :)

Tag List: @artistic-gato @karmaisacatluzi @therottenheartofscum @violetvsworld @inquiit @catr4dora

[hearts4golbach]

Hey can I request y/n surprising Billie at the Grammys? Thanks

Double-Winner.

Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader.

a/n: sorry this is so short, i had no clue how to fulfill this tbh but i tried my best! hope you like it x

"bil, for the last time," I sighed heavily, "im not going to be able to make it. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

billie whined on the other end of the phone, "it's not the same, ma."

I continued packing my suitcase. "I know, babe, but you know I have a huge meeting that I can not miss."

she grumbled, "I know." I heard water running and movement. "Wish me luck." she muttered as she began to brush her teeth.

"i'll be manifesting for you," i joke, walking to the bathroom to prepare my toiletries. "You're going to win the grammy." i reassure her.

i could hear her take a deep breath and sigh. "Yeah, hopefully. i think i should go to bed, big day tomorrow." she cheesed.

"Alright," i say dramatically. "If you have to."

she made a kiss noise, "i love ya."

"i love you too. Text me when you're up." i kissed her back before she hung up.

i checked the time on my phone, silently thanking billie for hanging up at the perfect time. i zipped up my suitcase and threw on my slides before walking out of the house. i double-checked to make sure the door was walked before i drove off towards the airport.

the cool winter breeze caught me off guard as i stepped out of my warm car. i dreaded all of the airport security traffic. it took me forever to get through everything, but i had finally made it on the flight that would take me to surprise billie.

i found out 3 hours before she called me that the meeting was canceled, and i decided i was going to surprise her. i booked the fastest flight and sound one that was perfect. i was surprised it was still available.

i sat peacefully on the plane, drinking Sprite and eating the iconic honey roasted peanuts. of course, i spent the whole time worrying over billies' reactions. would she be mad that i lied to her? i pondered back and forth, defending each argument for yes and no over in my mind.

the loud, robotic sounding woman over the speakers awoke me from my sleep. i rushed to get off the plane as i only had 2 hours to make it in time to see billie. i went to the nearest airport restroom and changed into my stunning dress that i had been saving for a really special occasion. it was a long, ruby red silk slip dress. it had a slit in the right legs and was long enough to trail behind me. i had straightened my hair before i left, and it had managed to stay intact. i did quick but elegant makeup and called my Uber.

the wait for the Uber was spent getting cat called by older men while waiting for billie to text me back.

me: How's your morning going, babe? i miss you

billie ❤️: it's going good, just doing hair and make up

billie ❤️: you?

billie ❤️: i miss you sm mama

me: just been thinking about you

billie: i gotta go get dressed, text you after ❤️

me: sounds goood

the Uber arrived and took me to my hotel room, which i had to rush to get ready since i was running late.

i basically threw on the dress that complimented hers, so i had enough time for makeup. luckly, i didn't like to do heavy makeup.

whenever i was finally done, billie texted me.

billie ❤️: god everything reminds me of how much i wish you could be here.

billie ❤️: theres an extra seat at the table for some reason

me: hm thats weird, dont worry, though i have the live video pulled up right now

i lied as i climbed into the Uber. i told the man my destination, and he began driving. butterflies were building up, and i couldn't wait to see her reaction.

i made it right in time, making it in time for the music related awards. i chatted with Lizzie Grant, one of my favorite music artists, as i waited for billie to leave the table so i could sneak in.

whenever they finally announced the first award for "what was i made for?" she got up and walked onto the stage.

i slid into my seat quietly, waving to finneas and claudia, who were in on the surprise.

i admired billie on stage. i was so proud of her. I couldn't contain it. a stupid smile spread on my face as i saw her bright smile on stage.

"Thank you so much. i really couldn't have done it without y/n and finneas. i love you too, and im so sorry you couldn't be here, baby." she blew a kiss to the camera, which i knew there'd be edits of later on.

she walked back, thanking all the people who congratulated her as she walked by.

she was only a few feet away whenever she made eye contact with me. her face lit up, and her smile grew. she ran towards me, pulling me out of my chair and capturing me in a tight hug. she peppered my face in kisses before finally meeting my lips. she held her lips on mine, and i didn't want her to pull away.

"You actually made it!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"How could i miss it?! my meeting got rescheduled, but i was planning on surprising you anyway. so everything worked out in the end." i explained.

"When did you get here?" she asked, her smile never fading.

"literally 2 and a half hours ago." i laughed, my arms snaking around her neck. "im so proud of you, bil."

"Thank you, mama." she pecked my lips once more, "i love you."

"i love you more." i smiled, "youre amazing. you deserve this so much."

billie went on to win another grammy. needless to say, we celebrated a lot that night.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

Ok so, maybe this is gonna be a bit further into the future when Tommy’s a bit grown up (teenage maybe).

So your doing laundry and see that your son hasn’t been doing his chores and you go up to his room and see him playing his video games as usual, and you softly chastise him about his chores.

And he surprises you with his outburst, and he actually swears at you. And you flinch at the sound, astounded that your own son, your baby boy talked you into that manner.

Simon. Is. Pissed. He loves Tommy, but he will never tolerate him disrespecting you. Simon knows how much work you put into being a mother. Simon goes full on stern dad mode.

Imma let you decide what happens next 🤭🤭

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA WTFFFFF

Run through here for anyone confused about all the characters

***

Sundays were your favourite days. You loved the relaxation, the peace, the days off. Simon had been home for a few days. Your kids, Tommy, Emma, Lilah, and Alex, were ecstatic. Atleast, the twins were. The second Simon walked through the door, they wanted to play games and go outside and all that. Emma was just happy her dad was home and safe. She had been her father’s daughter from the moment she came out of the womb. 

Tommy, however, your eldest, was a bit closed off. He practically sat in his room all day and never came out, It was starting to get on your nerves. 

You were doing Simon’s laundry when you notice Tommy’s dirty clothes that you had asked him to wash still sitting by the laundry machine. You roll your eyes, heading into his room. “Bubby?”

“What?” he doesn’t turn to look at you, still focused on his PC. 

“You didn’t do your laundry.”

“So what?”

“You need those clothes for school.”

“So you wash them. I’m busy.” 

“Bubby, you’re old enough to wash them yourself.”

“Don’t call me that and isn’t it your job? It’s not like you work or anything. Dad does all of that. All you do is cook and clean and-”

“Thomas Riley!” His words hit deep in your chest. 

“What? God, why do you always have to be such a bitch?” 

That was it. He hit a nerve. You turn, walking out of his room, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You head into your room, holding a pillow to your chest. His words hung in the air. 

Simon walks in moments later, covered in mud after a football game with the twins. “HI lovie,” he smiles before noticing the tears on your cheeks. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you turn away from him. 

“You can’t lie to me, lovie.”

“Tommy yelled at me and he called me a bitch…said my only job was to cook and clean…”

“He what?” Simon is fuming. 

“Please, don’t say anything to him…”

“He’s getting grounded. You stay here,” Simon walks out, running into Lilah. “Oi. Go to mom. She’s sad.”

The little girl nods and pads off to see you.

Simon walks to his eldest son’s room. Tommy turns in his gaming chair. “What?”

“Off the game or I unplug it,” Tommy rolls his eyes but turns off his game. “What did you say to your mom?” 

“Nothing.” 

“You lie just like her,” Simon holds back a chuckle. “She’s crying and it’s because of you. You know how much she does for you? And you swore at her. Go apologise. You’re grounded. No games for a month.”

Tommy looks down at his feet, guilty. He walks off to your room, where Lilah curls into you. You look up as Tommy sits on the edge of your bed. “Ma?”

You look at him.

“Ma, I’m sorry. I kinda let my emotions get the better of me. Didn’t mean to yell at you…just…I found out Lizzie was cheating and I’ve had a real bad week and I took it out on you. Please forgive me?”

A moment passes. 

You open your arms, letting him curl into you. “She cheated?”

“With Neil,” he sighs. “I’m never dating again.”

“That’s what we all say, bubby.”

[ellastone-olsen]

can you write a smut story where reader had to wait the entire ceremony (Golden globes) before she could take the gorgeous dress off of Lizzie. And Lizzie’s been just teasing her so when they get home reader rips the dress and takes Lizzie please 🙏🏻 I love your writing <3

Wicked game | Elizabeth Olsen

★Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x fem!reader

Summary: your girlfriend has gone too far with her teasing. that's what it says in the request

★Warnings: SMUT 18+, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, sex toys, strap on usage, praise, aftercare, fluff

★Word count: 1.8k

★AN: I have some kind of creative block, but I'm alive. I spent 5 days on this little thing instead of the usual 1.

The car slowly cut through the road, drifting between streams of the same iron boxes on wheels. The interior of the black SUV was spacious, but you and Elizabeth still sat shoulder to shoulder as the pad of your thumb stroked her knee through the fabric of snow-white dress. "Am I look good?" such a simple question with an obvious answer, but she still needed your confirmation. You cupped her cheek with your hand and turned her head towards you. “You are always beautiful my love” You give her a quick kiss on the lips and then look into her big green eyes. An idea just came into her sweet head, otherwise you can’t explain the sudden change in mood. She takes your hand and places it on her chest. “Then can you show me how much?”

A shiver runs down your spine and you nervously look at the driver's seat, noticing how the man is looking at you through the rearview mirror. As soon as your gazes intersect, he immediately turns his eyes back to the road. “Oh don’t worry dear, he will have to pay dearly if he spills the beans about what he saw.” Elizabeth whispers in your ear, you hope that by pay she means money. She moves your hand further, under her dress so that you touch her bare breasts and moans softly in your ear, making your core begin to pulsate. "Babe." You're warning her not to start something she can't finish. Her teeth bite your earlobe and you want to pull her away by hair, but you remember about styling. "Elizabeth." Your stern tone and the full form of her name still have an effect and she moves away. You don’t respond to her sweet smile, the car is just stopping.

The Golden Globes look spectacular, but boring. You are absolutely not interested in the speeches all these people make when they receive an award. People you don't know say words of gratitude to people you don't know again. The waiters obligingly drift back and forth, serving glasses of champagne and appetizers that are inedible to your taste. You just stand on the side and look around while your girlfriend talks to other celebrities or gives interviews. When you finally sit down in your seats, you cross your legs and lean back, unable to sit up straight. Elizabeth sits in such a way that the Queen of England would envy her if she were alive.

Time passes and you drink your second glass of champagne when it seems to you that something is touching your leg under the table. You don't pay attention to it until the action is repeated. The head turns to your girlfriend, but it looks like Robert Downey Jr.'s award ceremony is the most interesting thing she's ever seen. However, where her hands are says otherwise. Elizabeth's right hand triples on your thigh, red nails lightly scratching through the thin fabric of your pants, sending shivers down your spine. You stare at her, but the older woman doesn’t even think of turning her head. "Stop it." Your irritated, harsh whisper flies past her. As a sign from above, the bell rings, signaling a break, and without wasting any time, you grab Elizabeth’s hand and drag her away towards the toilets.

She sighs when she suddenly finds herself pressed against the wall, of course you can be rude, but first cover the back of her head with your hand so that she doesn’t get hurt from the blow. “What games are you playing today?” A hot whisper near her ear makes the woman hold her breath for a couple of seconds. Her answer doesn't keep you waiting. “But you like it, don’t you?” Elizabeth puts her hands on your waist, touching you through your thin shirt and tilting her head to leave small, light bites on your neck. “If you continue, I’ll push you into the toilet, lock the common door, bend you over the counter and...” You lose your breath from the stronger bite. “And what, dear?” The bell rings again, signaling everyone to return to their seats. You stand pressed against her for a few seconds, then push yourself off the wall with your hands and rub your neck where Elizabeth’s lips were, erasing non-existent traces of lipstick. The two of you go to your seats and no one seems to notice your disheveled state.

The ride home is quick and quiet, for two reasons. The older woman realized that you would ruin her for all her antics as soon as she set foot on the threshold of the house. She was in anticipation and silently looked out the window, imagining all the options for the development of events. The second reason is what you said to the poor driver when you got into the car. “You have 10 minutes to take us back, Elizabeth is terribly tired.” The black car brought you home in exactly 10 minutes. You gave the driver a tip for being in a hurry, even though it was not customary. When the front door closed behind you, what the older woman expected and desired happened. You grabbed her hand and quickly led her to your bedroom. When the door to the room closed, in one motion you threw Elizabeth onto her stomach on the plush blanket of your large bed.

Your hands pushed her hair back, exposing her slender neck so you could kiss and bite it. The woman's hips shot up, but you blocked the movement by straddling her. “If you think that you will get what you want quickly, don’t hope.” The zipper of the white dress was pulled down, almost breaking the zipper. Her dress and panties disappeared from her in record time, and you somehow managed not to tear them.

When you took a few steps back admiring the picture in front of you, your gaze caught on her wet shiny folds. She had definitely been looking forward to this all day. Elizabeth turned her head to the lack of action on your part to check the situation and saw you taking out from the nightstand the black compact vibrator that she loved so much. There were two scenarios in her head: either now she would get the best orgasm of her life, or she would die from overstimulation, but she really hoped for the first.

You returned to your girlfriend and moved her hips closer to the edge of the bed so that she rested her knees on the plush pile of the carpet and exposed her ass to your view. Your hands stroked her soft thighs, you couldn’t resist and leaned towards her dripping center to run your tongue along the entire length, tasting her. A shaky sigh escaped the woman's mouth above you and you repeated the action, gripping her hips even harder (there might be bruises there later). A mixture of pleasure and slight pain made her unconsciously lean back for closer contact. In what seemed like such a simple and innocent action, your palm landed on her ass with a loud slap. "No, no, don't you dare move." There was the first warning, which caused a groan of pain to escape from the older woman.

After you were satisfied with her taste, two fingers slipped inside her so easily, stretching the velvet walls. The second hand pressed the toy’s power button and you set the speed to medium, bringing it to her pulsating clit. "Hold it." Elizabeth reached underneath her and grabbed the silicone object, holding it in place. “If you disobey me, an even worse punishment will follow. You understood?" The older woman's mind was clouded with pleasure, but she hummed in agreement anyway. Her thoughts were confused by the way you moved inside her, pressing on a sensitive spot. Another slap to her ass. "Use your words." Her back arched and she was ready to swear that she would cum from such rough treatment. “Yes, I understand...please Y/N.” With every thrust, you felt her walls squeezing tighter around you. Elizabeth could no longer find words and shouted curses into the emptiness of your house. “Fuck...I'm going to cum...please can I?...” You cut her off. "No. Take it away."

She obediently removed the toy from her throbbing clit, stopping any stimulation. You were still moving inside her, but it wasn't enough to make her fall over the edge. “Oh fuck...fuck...so good...please can I continue?” You were silent for a minute before you gave her permission, making sure she didn't cum instantly. The woman's hips jumped as the stimulation began again. You pounded into her at a fast pace and after a couple of minutes you felt your orgasm approaching again. "Elizabeth stop." Oh how she didn’t like it when you called her by her full name, it never meant anything good. She put the toy away again and you pulled out.

The woman heard the chest of drawers open again behind her, the sounds of the harness, and then the cold tip of the faux cock pressed into her dripping entrance. You spread her natural lub along entire length and pushed the thick toy into her in one motion. Your girlfriend’s mouth opened in a silent scream, her hands grabbed the sheets as if they would tear them. "OH FUCK ." You returned her hand with the vibrator to the right place and pounding at her at a fast pace. “Do you like my cock baby? Mmm? Is this what you wanted all this time? So that I could fuck you like the whore?” Your dirty words turned her on even more. "Yes! Yes! Y/N can...can I cum?” She was ready to cry from overstimulation and you took pity on her. You leaned down to leave a kiss behind her ear and whispered. “Cum for me baby.”

Almost immediately, the woman fell over the edge, screaming your name mixed with curses into the softness of the mattress. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm until a small whine was heard from her. You pulled out and took off the strap, throwing it somewhere deep in the room, thinking that you would take care of it later.

Your arms grabbed Elizabeth and you helped her climb onto the bed, lying on her back. Her knees were red from standing on them for a long time and you gently rubbed the skin in the hope of relieving the pain. "My good girl, Lizzie." The lips began to pass everywhere you could reach, starting from the neck and ending with her cute tummy that you loved so much. When you looked up at her again, you noticed that the woman had begun to fall asleep.

“Baby, don’t sleep, you need to take off your makeup.” A hand covered her cheek and the pad of her thumb gently rubbed her cheekbone. “Mmmmm but I’m so tired, it can wait a couple of hours.” She mumbled sleepily. You gave in and covered her naked body with a plush blanket, setting the alarm for 3 hours. When the light in the room went out, Elizabeth had already fallen asleep and hugged you, breathing steadily into your neck.

Your fingers played with her blonde hair until you fell into the realm of Morpheus after her.

[crescentfool]

having the hc that minato is ace is incredibly funny sometimes when you think about how ryoji is oh so very bi because it's like. "ah. death stole my ability to be attracted to people," in the same way that ryoji stole minato's eye color and energy level. like wow, thanks ryoji, you just keep finding things to steal from minato!

[jayaury]

Inn-Dulgence

Another from the archives! And as always, there's plenty more on my P*treon!

#

In some ways, it was the indignity of being caught that grated the most.

Julian Larnd grunted and tested the cuffs that held his arms behind his back once more, but the enchanted steel gave nothing, securing him to the thick support pillar. Damn damn damn! He should have realized the inn was in league with the cult. It was the perfect hiding place for members! But he’d had no indication their influence had spread so far.

He sighed, leaning back and banging his head with a dull thunk against the pillar. Not much of a cell, but secure enough. He glared ruefully at the dim bulks of barrels not far. He could still feel a faint muzziness from the drugged ale they’d given him, but it was dispersing now. There had to be a way out. There had to be! A Ranger of the Silver Bow didn’t just give up. There was a way out of this. He just had to think of it.

A creak of the door had him jerk upright, every sense keyed up. The door swung open at the top of the steps, and the barmaid from the evening before came in.

Seeing her once more, Julian realized ruefully how easily he’d been caught. Any man would have been distracted by the sight of the gorgeous woman. Especially her large breasts, held in her tight peasant bodice, though with a somewhat scandalously low cut. It took him an effort of will to look away from those plump orbs and to her face, which was hardly a loss. She was strikingly lovely in a hometown kind of way, her short red hair framing a pretty face with a small nose and sprinkling of freckles. A short skirt drew the eye to long legs and wide hips, which swung tantalisingly with her lazy stride.

Lizzie. That was the name she’d given him while serving his ale. He felt again a flush of annoyance at how shamelessly he’d flirted with her the night before, never suspecting the drink she served would be drugged.

But her allure hadn’t entirely vanished for him, testament to which was it took Julian a moment to notice the tray of bread and mug of water she carried.

“Hey there, sugar,” she said, shooting him a dazzling smile. “How goes it?”

“Oh, just great,” Julian said acidly. “I’m in raptures.”

She giggled, and Julian tried to ignore how his heart skipped at the sound. “You’re funny,” she said, placing the dish down in front of him. Yet she didn’t go at once, instead crouching before him, looking at him impishly.

Julian eyed her closely. She didn’t strike him as the sort that would be in deep with the cult. Too flighty. Those who summoned demons inevitably began to feel the corruption, becoming maddened as the power and influence of their demonic patrons infested them with their foul magics. She might be new to the cult. Which meant she might be his way out…

“Do you know what your fellow cultists are doing?” he said.

“Why don’t you tell me what they’re doing?” she said coyly.

He leaned forward. “Your ‘friends’ are seeking to feed mortal souls to demons!”

“Gosh! Is that right?” she giggled.

He shook his head. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of this,” he said. “Those whose souls are devoured by a demon soon lose any semblance of humanity. They become little more than mindless thralls, enraptured by the demon who devoured them.”

“Goodness!”

“And those are the lucky ones,” Julian growled, the thought making his blood fire with rage. “The unlucky ones are unable to offer even a token resistance. They give themselves eagerly to the demons, and as a result, are fed upon, transformed into creatures like their patrons. Monsters of cruelty and mindless obedience to the demon who devoured their essence.”

“Quite the expert, hm?” she said.

Julian snorted. “I should be. I kill them.”

“Didn’t do a good job this time, though, huh?”

Julian scowled, the reminder stinging, especially coming from such a pretty woman. “I… underestimated the cult,” he said. “But not again. If I could get free, I could banish the fiend and free its worshippers.”

“You’d do that?” she said.

“Of course!”

“Oh, but,” the redhead said, putting a coy finger to her pouting lips with thought. “What if the cultists didn’t wanna be free? What if they super duper love her?”

“They are deluded,” Julian said sharply. “Drawn to the demon by promises and the allure of the forbidden, and too late do many realize the depths of depravity they will be forced to plunge. Do you really want your friends to face such a fate? Your neighbours? To be little more than soulless, mindless puppets of a demon?”

“And if I let ya go, you could stop her?” the barmaid said, still with that teasing smile.

“Of course!”

“Even if she’s super duper pretty? What if she’s got cute horns and big, bouncy tits like these?”

Julian felt the muscles in his neck twitch as she hefted her breasts through her top. Heat rose in his face and he cleared his throat. “O-of course! Such things would not stay my blade.”

“But what if she’s got pretty golden eyes and is like, just tons of fun.”

“Yes, dammit!”

“But what if she looks like… this?”

Her eyes flashed a molten gold. Her teeth suddenly sharpened with a pair of small fangs. Her body grew, her clothes creaking under the sudden swell of her figure. Her chest tore the lacing of her blouse, her skirt ripping to rags against plump thighs. Her skin darkened, turning a lurid red, and twin horns curved back like those of a goat along her hair.

Julian jerked back, gasping as a scent of smoke and mint suddenly engulfed him. He swooned, but shook it off, squinting and glaring at the creature.

“You…”

“Aw, don’t be like that, honey!” Lizzie said with another blinding smile. “You look much cuter when ya smile. Just a cute, handsome slayer too dumb to see the demoness fawnin’ all over him. Not that you were complaining much.”

“B-bitch!” Julian snapped furiously, tugging at his bindings. “If I were free, I’d-”

“Oh sure. Sure,” she said with an airy wave. “You’d kill me. Slay me and send me back t’ the pit I’d spawned from. Which is super mean a ya, by the by. Because I love it up here! So much fun and pretty boys and girls just lookin’ for a good time. And why shouldn’t I give to them? They loooove it.”

“You are a monster!” Julian snapped. “A creature of darkness and sin.”

“Totes! But that’s what makes it so fun, right?” she said with a twinkle of a smile.

“But hey,” Lizzie continued, scooting closer, grinning wickedly at him. “I’m a fair girl. So tell you what I’ll do. I’ll undo your cuffs in five minutes.”

“You’re lying,” he growled.

“Nope! Cross my heart and hope to burn,” she said.

“Why the hell would you do that?” he demanded hotly.

“Well, so’s you can get those hands of yours on my big, bouncy tits of course,” Lizzie giggled, giving her breasts another bounce.

Julian choked on his rage, the sight making his mouth feel suddenly dry. He tore his eyes from the display and to her smiling face. “I’d sooner cut them off!”

“Nuh uh! You’ll want to touch them too bad. You’ll be desperate to bury that pretty face of yours between my honkin’ tits and just smother yourself like a good human. Just get yourself buried under my big, soft, titties! Just a naughty slayer. So I’ll totes do it!”

Julian tensed. “You’re mad and a liar, and we both know it.”

“No way! See? I swear it. Swear it on the Red Throne and the Black Crown.”

Julian gaped as she made a crossing gesture over her chest, and in the wake of her talon an X mark burned before it faded. An oath to the Throne and the Crown was unlike any other to a demon. To make it was to swear upon the name of the ruler of the hells themselves. It could not be broken by a creature of the infernal realms. To even try would invite a fate worse than mere death or pain.

“But… why?” Julian could only ask.

“Oh, that’s suuuuper simple,” Lizzie giggled as her hands lifted, dropped, bounced her bust before him. “Because I’m plum certain you can’t wait to kiss my big tits…”

Julian glowered, glaring at her, but found his eyes drawn once more to her breasts. To the way her hands pressed those pillowy crimson orbs together. The way they seemed almost to ripple with the bouncing motions.

Gods but those were fantastic breasts.

Not that Julian was an expert, of course. He’d always known that demons were at their best when tempting mortals with sins of the flesh, and thus he’d avoided such entrapping. Quite sensibly, of course. But even so, he felt certain that no woman he’d ever known had such… such perfect breasts. Breasts that seemed almost tailored to the motions. The ups and downs. The way they seemed to quiver as they dropped, nipples stiff and trembling when her bust landed atop her crossed arms.

“Ooooh, a real connoisseur of titties, aren’t you?” Lizzie crooned.

“I-I am not!” Julian snapped. “Such lewd displays cannot… It’s disgusting!”

“Oh you’re soooo right!” Lizzie giggled, her hands ceasing their bouncing motions, instead running over her plump orbs, stroking her titflesh, tracing the curve of her bust, her fingers swirling around the coal black of her areola. “Look at how evil my big breasts are. So naughty and sinful. So dumb and fat. And my nipples ‘r sooooo needy, ya know? Just awful, naughty things! And don’t they look all wrong without a pair of lips wrapped around them, huh? Without some cute, dumb, horny thrall just suckin’ and moanin’ like a tooootal tit slave.”

Julian felt his blush burn again. But somehow, he felt like… like she was right. Her nipples did look so… so lewd just being out there. They should be covered. And yes. A pair of lips sucking them would do that. A tongue teasing. Stroking. He wondered what she would taste like? Would it be minty? Like her perfume? Or something else? Something unique to her. Something he couldn’t even dream of.

Gods but his mouth was dry. His lips quivered and he licked them, trying not to, but not quite able to stop himself.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Still think my perfect tits are evil? Thinkin’ they’re soooo sinful and sooooo bad?” Lizzie cooed.

“O-of course!” Julian gasped.

“And you’re soooo right, sugar! But that’s what makes them fun,” Lizzie giggled as her fingers tweaked her nipples, wrenching a gasping moan from her. “Ohhh! My naughty nipples are soooo fun to play with. Humans just can’t get enough a sucklin’ on them like cute bimbos.”

“You enchant them,” Julian panted, his chest heaving. Gods, he was so hot. He could feel the heat of his body pulse through him like his veins were fire. “You… you use your… your demonic powers to… to…”

“Sure do,” Lizzia giggled. “I totes do. I use my naughty powers to make everyone fall in love with my perfect, bouncy tits! Not that it takes much. They’re all soooo ready to fall for them. Just desperate to become good, brainless bimbos for my bouncy tits.”

“I n-never would.”

“You suuuuure about that?” Lizzie teased.

Wasn’t he? Or was she trying to corrupt him now? It wouldn’t surprise him. She was a demon. But… but so what? He could resist her. Resist her big, bouncy tits. He wouldn’t let them bounce away his thoughts. Dumb his mind. And… and he only had to… had to last five minutes. He could last ten times that long. No big titted bimbo would… would get the best of him.

“Won’t get… turned,” he growled.

“Oooooh, of course you won’t, darlin’,” Lizzie giggled. “You’re soooo strong. My big, soft, bouncy tits can’t make you all silly. All dumb.”

“Y-yes. That’s… that’s right… Yeah,” Julian grunted.

“You’re soooo strong, Julian,” she giggled. “Sooo powerful. You can resist me so well. My big, soft, fat titties could never enthrall ya. You’re much too smart. Much too much ‘f a stud. Much too strong to become a mindless bimbo for my big tits…”

Julian scowled. She… she was teasing him. He knew that. Could feel it. But… but wasn’t she right? He was strong. Strong enough to resist her breasts. Her powers. He could do it. He was doing it.

Wasn’t he?

Yes. Yes, of course he was. He was resisting her. He knew it. He felt fine. A little light headed. Light and… and soft like her breasts. But that was to be expected. It was expected. It was fine. He was fine.

“Feeling dumb yet, handsome?” Lizzie cooed as her fingers squeezed her breasts together. “Feeling your thoughts getting’ all numb and floaty?”

“O-of course not.”

“Oh goooood!” she crooned, hefting her breasts, dropping them. “So goooood. You’re resistin’ me so wonderfully, sugar! I have noooo power over ya. My big tits are totally failin’ to make you fall for them.”

“Exact… exactly…”

“And whoops! It’s five minutes,” she said.

Julian blinked blankly, looked up to her smiling face. “Huh?” he said.

Clink.

Julian slowly brought his arms up from behind his back, looking in wonderment at his free hands. He raised his head to the succubus.

“Oops!” Lizzie giggled, still fondling and massaging her impressive chest. “Looks like ya won, stud! Awww. And now you can do whatever you want with me.”

Julian blinked vaguely. “I… yes. Wh-whatever…”

“Especially,” she said, scattering his thoughts anew, “since you’re clearly so powerful ‘nd tough. Soooo smart you easily resisted my big tits. You’re much too strong to get brainwashed even now. You could do just aaaaanything to me.”

He… he could, couldn’t he?

After all, he was resisting. He wasn’t enthralled. He was still fine. Perfectly fine. In fact, his head felt clearer than he could remember. He could do it. He was resisting her so easily now. He wasn’t even trying and she had no influence over him. He could do anything he wanted…

“Like bury your face between my big… bimbo… tits…” Lizzie crooned.

He found himself staring at them again. At those perfect breasts. Perfect and big. Perfect and soft. Yes. Yes, he could do that, couldn’t he? He had resisted her thus far. She hadn’t influenced his mind. He could bury his face between those flawless orbs. Feel how soft they no doubt were.

“Go on,” Lizzie crooned. “Just do it. I’m soooooo helpless, darlin’.”

Julian nodded slowly, never noticing his nodding head was timed to the bounce of her bust. He leaned forward, shuddering as he inhaled the sweet aroma of her perfume. That spiciness of mint. Closer. Closer. Her breasts filling his vision. His world.

He felt her hand on the back of his head, urging him further forward. He took a shuddering breath as his face was eased into the valley between her breasts, a whimper escaping him as those glorious orbs squished around his face. Soft as clouds. Out of this world...

“O-ohhhhh,” he moaned.

“Isn’t that niiiice?” Lizzie said, her voice dulled by the softness pressing against his ears, yet seeming to vibrate through her and into him. “Ain’t it so relaaaaxing being between my big, bouncy boobs? So easy to relax. And you can toooootally relax, right? You’re super strong and brave and all that stuff.”

He was, wasn’t he? Julian smirked to himself at how easily he had overcome the succubus. Such a simple thing. But that was why he was the hunter, and she the prey.

“Hey!” Lizzie giggled overhead. “I bet you’ve been wanting to kiss my big tits a whole bunch, huh? You could totally do that too! I can’t stop you at all. I’m already beaten by you. Just helpless before the big, strong hunter.”

Julian laughed to himself. She was so dumb! She still sounded like she was teasing him. But that was silly of her. She was utterly at his mercy. But he supposed he shouldn’t expect too much from a dumb bimbo like her.

But she was right about one thing. He could totally kiss her breasts. And he’d wanted to for so long. And why not? He was totally in control. Utterly in command. He chucked to himself and pressed his lips against her breasts. Once on each side. The taste tingled on his lips and tongue. He was right. She did taste a little minty. But again, there was something deeper beneath that spice of flavour. Something smoky and alluring. Attractive yet nameless.

“Ohhhh! That’s iiiiit!” Lizzie moaned, squeezing his head further into her bust. “Kiss my big tittes, mister big mean hunter. Lick my needy nipples! Oh gosh. Oh gosh, i’m sooooo totally at your mercy! Just a poor, dumb bimbo slut who can’t resist the big bad hunter!”

“That’s… that’s right,” Julian growled, his tongue feeling thick, his voice slurring as if with drink. But he’d gotten over the ale. He wasn’t drunk anymore. He was totally in control. He could do anything. She was his. His captive. His… his…

“Wanna fuck me?”

Julian lifted his face from between her breasts, staring at the smirking visage of the demoness. “Wh-what?”

Lizzie giggled, her hands touching his head, pressing him back into her breasts, his mouth and nose sandwiched in that blessed softness. “Wanna fuck me?” she purred. “Want to pound that big, manly cock into my pretty pink pussy? Wanna make me scream and beg for more? Wanna to really conquer me, pretty boy?”

Julian stared, his sluggish mind struggling. There… there was something… something wrong about that. Something bad. He could feel it on the tip of his tongue. It… it would feel good but… but…

“Y… you’ll drink my… my soul if I… if I do,” Julian finally managed to say.

“Noooo, silly!” Lizzie cooed, petting his head, smoothing back his hair and making his nose and cheeks bounce softly against her heavy titflesh. “That’d only happen if I’d beaten you! But who ever heard about a hunter who beat a succubus getting his soul drained? That never happens!”

That… that did sound right. It made sense. Didn’t it? It must. He’d always been warned that if a hunter lost, a succubus would inevitably fuck the soul out of him. But he’d never heard of triumphant hunters getting their soul drained. At least, he didn’t think so. Some detail about that was bothering him. But he was having a very hard time figuring out what that was as her breasts squished around his face. So soft. So warm. The scent of mint and the musky huskiness filling his nose and head with swirly fumes.

“Go for it, cutie,” Lizzie cooed, still stroking his head. Soothing his worries. “You deserve it.”

He did.

He did deserve it.

He’d bested the succubus.

He’d conquered her.

Resisted her.

He deserved some fun.

He deserved some pleasure.

He deserved to take what he wanted from this dumb, busty bimbo.

Yes.

Yes.

He deserved it all.

And he would take it.

He pushed her back, Lizzie gasping, then giggling as she fell to the floor. She gazed up at him, her cheeks flushed an even more lurid crimson. She opened her arms, and Julian didn’t even think twice before pushing forward. Kissing her hard. Fiercely. He felt her hand on his pants, tugging them open. His cock came out, throbbing, pulsing. Yes. Yes! He’d fuck this bitch. This fucking whore. This demonic slut. He’d show her!

“Ohhhhhh!” he groaned as he felt the tight heat of her pussy close around his cock. Squeeze his tender manhood. His body began to thrust, pounding his cock into her, the bouncy orbs of her breasts inches before his eyes, swaying with every frantic thrust into her.

“Yes!” Lizzie cried. “Yes! Fuck me! Make me cum! Tame me! Tame me with your big cock! Oh fuck. Fuck yes! Yes! Don’t stop! Ohhhh! Don’t stoooop! Make me cum! Make me your bitch! Cum in me! Cum for me! Cum for Lizzie!”

Julian panted, gasped, his head throbbing. Pounding. His body rocking as he furiously thrust into her with ever greater urgency. He had to cum. He needed to cum! He had to cum and finally show her… show her what he was made of!

And it was so good. So wonderful! Her pussy was like a perfect sleeve around him. Rippling around his cock. Warm and eager. Pulling him into her almost lovingly. Julian moaned and whined as he increased his pace. His orgasm was so near.

“Cum! Cum with me, pretty boy! Cum with mistress! Cum for meeeee! Ohhhhh!” Lizzie cried as her inner walls suddenly clamped around him, squeezing him.

And Julian came.

His orgasm surged through him like a great wave. It tingled from his toes and fingers, rushing through him and into his cock. He cried out, shuddering as he released inside her. As he spurted his hot load in her.

“Yesssss!” Lizzie groaned, shuddering as he came, her own orgasm seizing her in that glorious moment, her pussy milking him while her breasts heaved at the sudden intensity of orgasm. Her arms grabbed Julian’s head, pulled him into the cushions of her breasts.

Julian moaned, vertigo spinning him. He felt like he had been balancing on a precipice, and suddenly had toppled over. His eyes rolled back, weakness aching through him as his cock surrendered, spurting a last few times. Aftershocks robbing him of strength.

A sudden emptiness filled him. Julian groaned, his head lolling back between her breasts, looking up at Lizzie’s face.

The succubus smirked down at him, radiant. Not just radiant. Glorious. Her skin glowed softly, her eyes sparking with delight and malice, her lips lifted in amusement as she gazed down into Julian’s glassy eyes. Soulless eyes.

She pet the former hunter’s head, and her touch shuddered through Julian like white hot ecstasy. “Who’s my pretty bimbo pet?” Lizzie asked.

“M-meeee,” Julian droned, his jaw sagging in dumb obedience, entranced by the sight of the woman who had devoured his soul.

Lizzie giggled, pulling his head back between her soft breasts. “You know it, sugar! Ooooh, you’re gonna be such a good bimbo for mistress, ain’tcha? I can’t wait to show you off to the other girls.”

Julian glowed from her praise, blushed against her breasts. Yes. Yes, he couldn’t wait either. Couldn’t wait for mistress to do whatever she wanted. Couldn’t wait to show he was such a good bimbo for her.

He nuzzled her breasts, moaning as her pussy squeezed his tender cock once more. Yes. He was going to be a good thrall.

A good slave for mistress Lizzie…

[somethingvicked]

Don't want to miss a thing

An Eddie Munson one-shot.

Inspired by an anon ask for daddy Eddie!

warnings: female reader, baby teething, fluff, references to Flight of Icarus (Eddie's mother's name)

You were awakened to a shrill cry from the other room and sighed tiredly.

You loved being a mom and loved your daughter more than anything but waking up every other hour in the middle of the night wasn’t at the top of the list of the things you loved about it.

Your daughter, Lizzie, was teething and only fell asleep out of pure exhaustion and as soon as she had slept enough to be able to feel the irritation in her gums again she woke up and screamed.

You carefully untangled yourself from Eddie, whom was sleeping soundly on the other side of you, a protective arm over your waist, his nose all but buried in your hair.

Silently you walked into your daughter’s room, seeing her little face screwed up in frustration, as she chewed on her lip to get rid of the itching ache in her mouth.

”Come on, I know what’s better,” you said as you lifted her into your arms.

She looks so much like Eddie, flew through your mind, for probably the thousandth time, as you kissed Lizzie’s forehead. She was the spitting image of him – Robin had even commented, ”were you even present at conception, Y/N?” when the whole gang came and visited you at the hospital after you had given birth.

Her eyes may have been blue when she was born, as most newborns, but they gradually darkened to Eddie’s chocolate shade after just a couple of months. Her hair was dark, the same color as Eddie’s, and already curly, and she had his smile, the shape of his eyebrows.

She had your nose, though, and you supposed you should be grateful for that, to at least have her resemble you in some degree. You and Eddie had decided to name her Elizabeth, after Eddie’s mother. Elizabeth Arwen – the last one from Eddie’s favorite book series, Lord of the Rings. He had been ready to beg to get you to agree but in your opinion it was a pretty and unique name, so you happily went along with it.

You carried Lizzie with you to the kitchen and took out a pacifier from the freezer, warming it up by putting it into your own mouth at first, so it wouldn’t be completely frozen through, and then offered it to your daughter. She willingly opened her mouth and sighed in contentment when the chill eased the ache in her gums.

”There, that’s better, hmm?” you cooed and swayed with her, even though you couldn’t suppress a big yawn.

”I can take her if you want to sleep,” you heard a voice say behind you and almost jumped from the fright.

”Jesus, Eddie,” you said, voice full of laughter. ”Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Eddie snorted. He was dressed in his worn plaid pajama pants, bare chested, hair all tousled from sleep. Even though you were drained to the bone, you still felt your heart flutter at the sight of him.

”Come on, baby,” Eddie said again, ”you deserve some sleep, you’ve had to do most of the lifting all this time.”

That was true. Since you were on maternity leave and Eddie worked shifts at the car shop you had resigned yourself to take most of the burden when Lizzie woke at night.

”But what about work?” you wondered, bouncing your daughter on your hip.

”I’ve got some vacation days saved up. They’ll just be happy if I don’t use them all during the summer, when everyone else does. I could use a day to just be with my two favorite girls. ”

You nodded, warmth welling up inside you from his statement, and finally passed Lizzie over to him. She smiled at the sight of her dad, hands immediately going to his long hair, wanting to play with it.  You smiled too, seeing your beloved daughter with the love of your life.

”I’ll take her to her room, see if I can make her fall back asleep,” Eddie told you, stroking Lizzie’s back, as you turned around to go to your own bedroom.

You crawled into bed with a sigh, closing your eyes. Sleep was almost upon you when you heard a low, melodic sound penetrating the mist of slumber.

” I could stay awake just to hear you breathin'

Watch you smile while you are sleepin'

While you're far away and dreaming

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender

I could stay lost in this moment forever

Where every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure.”

Eddie. He was singing to Lizze.

His voice was low, it was obvious he was singing to soothe her into sleep, but it was still clear enough that you could hear him, making out the words. It brought tears to your eyes.

”Don't wanna close my eyes, I don't wanna fall asleep

'Cause I'd miss you, babe

And I don't wanna miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you

The sweetest dream would never do

I'd still miss you, babe

And I don't wanna miss a thing.”

Lizzie was remarkably quiet – either she had fallen back asleep or she was as transfixed by her daddy’s voice as you were.

Your tiredness  forgotten, you got out of bed and padded down to Lizzie’s room, seeing Eddie sitting in the rocking chair with Lizzie in his arms, looking down into her eyes, eyes that were a complete copy of his.

“Lying close to you, feelin' your heart beating

And I'm wonderin' what you're dreamin'

Wonderin' if it's me you're seein'

Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together

And I just wanna stay with you

In this moment forever

Forever and ever.”

Lizzie was awake, you saw, but she was blinking repeatedly, as if she was fighting sleep, not wanting to miss the soothing sound of her dad singing to her.

Eddie looked up and saw you standing there. ”Honey? I thought you were asleep?”

”I was about to, but then something so beautiful called me over here,” you gently teased him. ”And this sight... it was worth it. I guess I’m like you – I don’t want to miss a thing.”

Eddie smiled, the most beautiful smile in the world, you thought, at least until your daughter had smiled at you for the first time. But then again, her smile was Eddie’s, so go figure.

Eddie continued the song, Lizzie’s eyes finally closing, her intense sucking and chewing on the pacifier slowing down as her breathing evened out.

Eddie whispered-sang as he got up from the rocking chair and carefully placed Lizzie back in her crib.

You wrapped your arms around Eddie’s middle, resting your chin against his arm as you two stood, watching your sleeping daughter.

“He has a point,” Eddie whispered as he pulled you tightly against him.

“Who?”

“Steven Tyler. The sweetest dream can’t possible match up to this.”

You couldn’t help but giggle quietly. Trust Eddie to be able to make a rock reference. But oh, how you loved him for it.

“No, I suppose that’s true. I really don’t want to miss a single thing with her. Or you.

“The feeling is mutual, baby,” Eddie promised you as you two quietly walked out of your daughter’s room and back to your own.

taglist: @h-ness1944 @quinnyficsy @jenniquinn @melodymunson @pandemoniusstuff

please, like, comment and reblog!

Your likes are wonderful but reblogs expand my reading circle.

[bruisedboys]

underneath kitchen lights — james potter x reader

summary — james has a crush on you, lily’s shy and unbelievably sweet coworker. you nurse a crush of your own. (based on all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine!)

or .. you got a slurpee for free, I caught you looking at me, in the 7/11 under fluorescent lights. I spilled mac and cheese on my pants, and thought about kissing you underneath kitchen lights!

contains — shy!fem!reader, florist!reader, strangers-ish to friends to lovers, rugby player!james, modern au, flirting, mutual pining, fluff, james being a total sweetheart, sirius being a twat and a good friend, wolfstar because I couldn’t resist, kissing, lovesick!james, idiots in love tbh, and ummm lots of references to all my ghosts!!

notes — um I am very nervous to post this. but also please don’t let it flop.

fem!reader 8k words

James has an embarrassingly big crush on you. For someone he’s only met twice now, you’re very good at getting stuck in his head. It’s hardly his fault — you’re lovely. You always smell like flowers (which is kind of a given, he supposes. You work with Lily at Harriet’s, the florist’s down the road). You’re very pretty. You’re quiet and a bit shy but you’ve spoken enough that James at least knows you’re polite and friendly.

He’s talked to you a grand total of one time. You’d exchanged a few words and James had been very very quick to fall in love with everything about you. Your hands as you wrung them in front of you — a shy tell, he’d guessed. Your voice, pretty and soft, and how it’d sounded when you said his name. The way you dressed, your hair, the quirk in your mouth when he’d made a joke, the hitch in your breath when he’d shook your hand. He was a goner the second he’d met you.

“Prongs,” drawls Sirius, followed by a hard punch in the bicep. “You know you’re not as subtle as you think.”

James scowls in the general direction of Sirius’ voice. He’d been staring at you, he’s sorry to admit. You’re talking to Lily and you’re smiling about something she’s said and you just look so pretty.

He badly wants to talk to you properly, he has ever since the first time Lily bought you around to a party like this one, but he’s scared of embarrassing himself. He’s not exactly the best flirter when it comes to girls he actually likes. His tongue gets all tied and he can’t say two words without ultimately embarrassing himself. He’s not as much of a charmer as everyone thinks he is. He’s also scared you won’t like him, but he won’t get into that.

“Shut up,” he advises Sirius, rubbing his sore arm. “I don’t even know what you’re on about.”

Sirius, sprawled on the couch next to James, rolls his eyes and snorts. “Yeah, okay,” he says, all sarcasm. “S’not like you’re burning holes into Y/N’s face or anything.”

For a split second James panics. He whirls around to look at you so fast he almost snaps his neck in half. Have you heard Sirius? Do you think James is a total creep now? No — you’re still engrossed in your conversation with Lily. James breathes a sigh of relief but it’s cut short when he realises Sirius is laughing at him.

“Mate,” he guffaws. “You’re hopeless.”

It’s James’ turn to roll his eyes. “Thanks a lot,” he says dryly.

Sirius grins with all his stupidly perfect teeth. “Y’welcome.”

James sighs and scrubs a heavy hand down his face. Maybe he is as hopeless as Sirius thinks. He’s certainly feeling quite hopeless right now. With you across the room and him sitting here unable to make himself get up and talk to you. As subtle as he can he twists to look over the back of the couch again to see what you’re doing. He’s just in time to see you disappearing into the kitchen by yourself, Lily now talking with the other girls by the ranch slider.

His heart rate spikes. This is his chance.

James is getting to his feet before he knows what he’s doing. He dodges another hearty punch from Sirius, pretends not to hear Lily when she asks him where he’s going, and follows you into the kitchen on clumsy feet like a puppy on a leash.

He stumbles into Lily’s kitchen and there you are. Standing with your head in the fridge, the bright white lights cast over your skin. And there’s a lot of skin to look at. Your shoulders, your upper back. There’s a beauty spot on your back, just next to your shoulder blade. Your dress floats just above the halfway point of your thighs. You’ve got really nice legs. James snaps his eyes back up to your head before he can feel too guilty and clears his throat.

You start and then whirl around, eyes wide as saucers, one hand curled around the fridge door.

“Oh,” you say, breathless. “James. You scared me.”

James is so busy melting over the way you say his name that he almost forgets to speak. “Sorry. Shit, I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to.”

You shake your head and your big dangly earrings jingle like bells. “No, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry.”

You smile all soft and pretty and James really thinks he might pass out. He steps forward and leans against the kitchen island as casually as he can, when really he’s using it for support lest he keel over.

You’re looking at him like you’re expecting him to say something. He clears his throat again.

“Um,” he starts lamely. He braves through. “I, um— you look really nice tonight. I wanted to tell you earlier but Lily’s been stuck to you like a leech since you got here.”

You blink at him and James worries he’s said the wrong thing. Maybe this was the worst idea he’s ever had. And he’s had a lot of bad ideas. But then you beam.

“Oh,” you say, shocked like you can’t quite believe it. Which should be impossible, really, James thinks. You’re beautiful. It’s hard not to believe it. “Thank you, James.”

James smiles back. Your shyness at being complimented only fuels him. “You’re welcome. Just don’t tell Lily I called her a leech.” At this, you giggle, and James stammers through his next words, dazed from your laugh. “So, uh— are you looking for a drink?”

He gestures to the fridge, which you seem to have forgotten about, the door hanging wide open under your grip.

“What? Oh,” you say sheepishly, and suddenly you’re embarrassed and staring at your shoes. “No, I’m…” You lift your head and blink at him under your lashes. “Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

James is perplexed, but he’s not gonna laugh at you if you don’t want him to. He licks his dry lips. “Yeah, I promise.”

You smile, then dip your head towards him like you’re sharing secrets. “I was cooling off,” you admit, sheepish. “It got too hot in the living room and Lily’s patio has mosquitos.” You hardly give him time to reply before you’re cringing, saying, “It’s weird, right?” Like you know he’s gonna think it’s strange.

He doesn’t think it’s strange. Well, maybe a little. But he’s been found in worse positions at parties. You look so embarrassed about it James is almost sorry he asked. Almost, because embarrassed you is adorable. You lean back and scrub your neck awkwardly, bracelets clanking on your wrist.

“No, I know,” he groans sympathetically, nodding vehemently. “Lily really needs a mosquito net or something, so we can open the damn door without getting eaten alive. Can I join you?”

You look baffled for a moment, and then shy all over again.

“You want to join me while I stick my head in the fridge?” You ask, an amusement to your tone that James adores.

James shrugs. “Why not?”

You smile outright then. “Okay,” you say, stepping aside so there’s more room in front of the fridge for him. “C’mon, then.”

James practically skips over to you. The moment he steps into your space he can smell your lovely scent. Flowery and sweet, something floral like hyacinth mixed with something sweet like honey. It’s intoxicating. He feels like he could drown in it. But there’s no time for drowning, not when your hand wraps around his elbow and pulls him into your side, your feet shuffling to accommodate him.

“Move closer,” you urge shyly. “You gotta get the full experience.”

James moves closer. So close his arm brushes yours and he could hold your hand if he wanted to. He very much wants to. He imagines your skin is as soft as it looks.

The coldness of the refrigerator washes over him and it’s actually really nice. Even though he can be a total party animal sometimes, he understands why you would be here instead of in there. It’s quiet in here. Nice and cool. No lingering scent of heavy wine. No Sirius to tease him and no Marlene to badger him with questions about his love life.

“This is nice,” he says quietly, over the gentle buzz of the fridge.

You giggle softly. James thinks he’d like to make you laugh a million times over. “Isn’t it?”

“Mm,” James hums. “I should do this at parties more often.”

You laugh again, delighted at his joking. “You should. Then I wouldn’t be so lonely when I escape to the kitchen.”

James laughs too. He can’t quite believe his luck right now, squished in front of Lily’s refrigerator with you, elbow to elbow, the rest of his friends and the party long forgotten.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” he says, smiling big.

The next time James sees you, it doesn’t go quite as well as previously. To put it simply, it’s a disaster.

First of all, he’s late. Remus and Sirius are having a housewarming party at their new place and he’s had training all day so he’d forgotten all about it. It’s not until 9:30, an hour after the party was supposed to start, that he’s climbing in his car after training and his phone buzzes.

He picks it up, exhausted, expecting one of his teammates. Instead it’s a string of messages from Remus.

You’re late James!!!!

We started without u. Where r u????

Sirius is gonna wring ur neck

James scrolls through the messages with a mixture of confusion and dread. Confusion because at first he has absolutely no idea what Remus is talking about. Dread when he realises.

He speeds all the way home, showers at lightning speed, pulls on a rumpled shirt and a pair of jeans that he’s sure aren’t clean, and he’s out the door within ten minutes of getting home. Still, by the time he gets to Sirius and Remus’ place it’s almost 10. His hair looks a mess but it’ll have to do. He doesn’t even think about the fact that you could possibly be there. That is, until he’s finished apologising profusely to his friends and Sirius mentions you. James perks up from where he’d been slumping on the couch, feeling exhausted and sorry for himself.

“What?” He asks, too loud. He tries to tamp it down but honestly, it doesn’t really work. He’s still buzzing with nervous energy when he asks, “Is she here?”

Sirius grins, looking uncharacteristically cat-like. “Uh— yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious. His stupid grin only grows and James thinks he’d quite like to punch his teeth out. “She came with Lily. Moons thought we should invite her. She’s a lovely girl, isn’t she?”

James knows he’s teasing but can’t quite bring himself to care — the prospect of seeing you has demolished all other feelings of pathetic-ness. He leaps off the couch and makes his way to the kitchen, guessing that’s where you’ll be, a barely touched drink in his hand and Sirius’ teasing following him all the way. He’s so busy fixing his shirt before he sees you that he doesn’t see you. He walks right into you on the threshold of the kitchen.

“James!” You gasp, stopping short.

James’ drink, to his horror, has spilt all down your front. His glass, previously full, is now half empty, the rest of it splattered all over your white top.

You barely have time to be surprised before he’s apologising.

“Shit,” he curses, mind blanking. His hands go to fix the damage before he realises he probably shouldn’t touch your chest, where his drink is now seeping into your top and showing no signs of stopping. He pulls his hands back lamely. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Y/N. Oh gosh. I’m so dumb, I—“

Your rush to forgive him is almost as quick as his apology. “No!” You shake your head and it’s awfully cute despite the situation. “No, it’s okay, James. I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

James grimaces. He tries not to look at the dark red stain that looks like blood on your white blouse. It is quite possibly the worst thing he could’ve spilt on you.

“It’s okay,” you say again, softer, reassuring, probably clocking the pathetic look on his face.

“Don’t, angel,” James says, shaking his head. “S’my fault.” He grabs your elbow gently and starts to pull you out to the living room, seeking Remus, who he knows will have a spare t-shirt that’s at least clean. “C’mon, I’ll find you something else to wear.”

“Wait, James. Wait.” You plant your feet in the doorway of the kitchen and James stops walking. He looks back at you, feeling guilty, hopeless, confused, and a bit endeared by you still, all at once.

“What?” He asks as gently as he can when he’s feeling like such a loser.

“I don’t wanna cause any trouble,” you say, biting down on your bottom lip so hard James is sure it hurts. You’re shy, he remembers. Quiet and polite. You probably don’t like people making a fuss over you, even though you should really. You’re pretty enough that people should be making a fuss over you all the time. “I think I’ll just go home, s’only a ten minute walk. I was going to leave soon, anyway.”

James frowns. “I can’t let you do that,” he says, shaking his head. He also can’t let you feel uncomfortable. He conjures a compromise. “Look, how about you wait here while I go ask Remus for a spare shirt? And then I’ll walk you home to make it up to you.”

He knows walking you home isn’t near enough to make up for ruining your top. But it’s the best he can do right now.

“But you just got here, didn’t you?” you say, frowning yourself.

James shrugs. That’s hardly a problem for him. “Don’t worry. I see those two asshats every day of my life, sweetheart.”

You still look unsure but James isn’t changing his mind. He’s going to walk you home if it’s the last thing he does. But first, something for you to change into. He leaves you in the kitchen and finds Remus, whom he asks for a shirt, to which Remus says, “What’s that for?” too loudly.

James explains what happened dejectedly. He’s not exactly surprised when Sirius laughs at him for it.

It’s a quiet walk to your place. You live close, which is both good and bad. Good because it means every time James is at Remus and Sirius’s, he’ll know you’re only ten minutes away. Bad … well, for the same reason.

James tries his best to fill the silence with easy conversation. It’s not hard, especially when you’re so sweet and kind and answer his questions so pleasantly. You’re easy to talk to. You don’t laugh at him when he slips on his words. You don’t make him wait for answers. You ask him questions, too, timid as you are about it.

James finds he enjoys your company even more than he was expecting. You’re like a breath of fresh air. You’ve got the radiance of an early spring morning and the softness to go with it.

It’s safe to say he’s disappointed when you come to a stop in front of your place.

“This is me,” you say, fishing your keys out of your purse. You’re in one of Remus’ band tees and James thinks you look much better than Remus does in it. As much as he loves Remus. He realises he’s staring too late, his eyes following you as you walk up your front steps.

You unlock your door and then look back at him, timid.

“Did you want to come in?” You ask, sweet in your shyness.

James would very much like to come in. He also thinks he might fall on his face if he spends much more time with you. He’s already dizzy on his feet and he’s been with you all of fifteen minutes.

“No, no, that’s okay,” he says as kindly as he can. “I should probably get back, or Sirius’ll have my head.” At least he knows where you live now. In a totally not creepy way.

He steps forward to take your wrist in his hand, his thumb pressing into your pulse point. He can feel your heartbeat. It’s not quite as fast as his feels but pretty close.

“I’m really really sorry about your top,” he tells you. He spreads his fingers over your forearm, your skin warm as late summer under his touch. “Can I do anything to make up for it? Buy you a new one?”

He wasn’t joking, but you giggle, your face lighting up, your eyes crinkling at the corners. James feels something akin to a mad swarm of butterflies in his ribcage.

“No, James,” you laugh, breathless and lilting. Your free hand lands on his forearm and his skin burns under your touch. “It’s okay, really.”

“Okay,” James breathes. His head spins as you squeeze his arm. Your skin is impossibly soft. You smell so nice. “But, seriously, let me know if there’s anything I can do. It was such a nice top, it looked lovely on you.”

You flush like James knew you would. He’s slowly discovering he likes making you flustered more than he’ll admit.

“Thanks, James,” you say, and James imagines if he touched your face you’d be burning. “But, really, it’s okay. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. See you around, angel.”

It’s only after you close the door and James is at the bottom of the steps that he realises he should’ve asked for your number. He really is as hopeless as Sirius says.

-

James Potter is on your mind most of the time. You can’t help it. You’re not above admitting you have a crush on him. You are above admitting how big said crush is.

He’s really one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. Sure, you don’t meet a lot of people. But you’re sure if you did he’d still be one of the best. He’s kind, he’s funny, he’s unbelievably charming. He’s a bit awkward sometimes and you like that, it makes you feel better about your own social ineptitude.

It also helps that he’s very very handsome. You would look at him all day if you could. He’s all dark, velvety skin, inky curls that you’ve imagined weaving your fingers through more times than you can count. Deep brown eyes turned bright with his ever-present smile. Thick eyelashes, a lovely sloping nose, a quirk to his mouth that you think you could get drunk on. He dresses well, too, though you’re sure he’d look just as good in a hoodie and sweatpants. Or nothing at all. You’d squashed that thought before it could go any further.

You don’t even mind that he spilled wine all over your nicest top. Sure, the stain is never gonna come out. It’s sitting in your closet, ruined. Embarrassing as it is, you smile every time you see it. James had made up for it tenfold anyway, walking you home and telling you he was sorry about a hundred times. It would be hard to not forgive him.

“Y/N?”

There’s a call of your name from the office door. You’re in here on your lunch break, not really eating more than you are thinking about James. Margaret, the older lady who owns Harriet’s but only comes in Thursdays and Tuesdays, is poking her head through the door.

“Hi, dear,” she says. “Sorry to disturb you, but there’s a customer out here asking for you? I can tell him to come back later, if you’d like, but he seems quite insistent.”

He. Of course, your mind flies straight to James. Which is ridiculous, you know, but it was already parked and idle at James, anyway.

“He’s asking for me?” You ask, perplexed. You don’t usually get personally requested by customers. And if it is James, you’re sure he’d ask for Lily instead.

“Yes, dear,” Margaret smiles, and she looks amused.

You get up because it’s your job, not because you’re hoping like hell it’s James. You put down your barely-eaten sandwich, brush past Margaret with a small ‘thank you’ and emerge into the shop.

There, standing at the counter, is James Potter.

“Y/N!” He says as soon as you emerge. He’s bouncy. Frazzled. You would even say excited. “Hi, lovely. I’m really sorry to barge in on you like this, were you on your break?”

“Oh, um, no. It just ended,��� you lie. You still had a good ten minutes left. Not that you’re gonna tell him that.

James’ smile makes the lie worth it. “Perfect. ‘Cos I need your help.”

You think you physically perk up. Like a cat when it smells food is near. You hope he doesn’t notice.

“Okay,” you smile. You’re happy to help if it’s James you’re helping. “With that?”

James explains that he needs a bouquet, your best work, better than a boring one you can get at the grocery store because he really really needs this person he’s giving it to to like it. Your smile fades at this. At the fact that he’s getting flowers for someone else. He won’t tell you who this someone else is. He also won’t tell you why he’s giving it to them. You’re sorry to assume it’s a girl he likes. Possibly Lily? Maybe that’s why he asked for you and not her. You wouldn’t be surprised, they’re close and she’s gorgeous.

Of course, you help him anyway. You recommend flowers that last the longest, colours that go together, which ones smell the best. He’s asks you what your favourites are and ends up going with those, saying he trusts your judgment.

You have to admit it’s all very endearing. And you have so much fun helping him that by the time he leaves, arms full of a huge bouquet made up of all your picks of flowers, you’re beaming. Despite the daunting fact that he’s walking out of your shop with a bouquet for someone else.

Margaret appears once he’s gone. She’s got this big smile on her face that you can’t quite make sense of.

“He’s a handsome one,” she muses. “Is he your boyfriend?”

Your cheeks go redder than the roses on the shelf behind you.

Much later, you’re in the comfort of your small home, a bowl of steaming hot mac and cheese in your lap while the TV drones on. It’s some sort of romantic comedy that you can’t say you’re very interested in. Despite the lead male being very attractive. You’re about to change programmes when there’s a knock on your door.

You start. Nobody ever comes over. You don’t have many friends, and the ones that you do have, you tend to go over to their places, rather than the other way around. You’re so busy worrying about who it is that you haven’t even stood up before there’s another knock.

You get up off the couch, mac and cheese forgotten on the coffee table. You give your outfit a once over. You’re in sleep shorts and a hoodie that’s too big for you. Not your best work, but it’ll have to do. You fix your hair with little to no care and then open the door.

It’s James. You gape. You definitely should’ve paid more attention to your hair.

“James,” you say.

He beams right back, seemingly unaware of your sleepy appearance. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You stare at him. He looks pretty as ever. It’s only just going on sunset, and the colourful sky casts streaks of orange and golden yellow over his pretty face. The last bits of sun tangle themselves into his curls and drown themselves in his eyes. He’s dressed casual, but he still manages to pull it off, like you’d thought. A hoodie and jeans, a pair of beat up converse. He’s hiding something behind his back and you think you hear cellophane crinkle when he moves.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he’s saying. He doesn’t have your number. But Lily does. Is it crazy to think he’s maybe asked her for it? “Is this a bad time?”

His kindness reminds you how to speak. “Uh— um, no. S’not a bad time, I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Are you— um, did you want to come in?”

You’re rambling, you know. He hasn’t even told you why he’s here and you’re asking him to come in.

James smiles kindly and it makes it all better. He’s good at that. At making you feel okay for being a bit of an awkward loser (your own words, not his, of course.)

“I’d love to come in,” he says, all smiles. “But first, I have something for you.” He pulls whatever he’s been hiding out from behind his back and offers it to you between your chest and his. “To say I’m sorry about your top.”

You blink. It’s a bouquet. It’s the bouquet. The one you’d helped him put together. The one that has all your favourite flowers and colours and smells because despite you thinking it was for someone else, you’d still wanted the best for James. You blink again.

“James,” you say, a little breathless, a lot speechless. “They’re for me?”

James laughs and you feel dizzy for a moment. He’s got a really nice laugh. “F’course there for you, sweetheart. Who else?”

He makes you take them from him, one of his hands guiding yours around the stalks. His skin is warm and sets yours on fire. You’re surprised the bouquet doesn’t go up in flames when you take it from him.

“I-I don’t know,” you stutter. “I thought …” you don’t finish your sentence. You’d thought they were for some other girl who’d caught his eye. You change tactics mid sentence, “They’re lovely, James.”

“I know they are, dove. You picked ‘em out.”

You giggle then. He’s the sweetest boy on the planet, you decide. He let you pick out your own flowers, and you didn’t even know it. You’ve never properly been given flowers before, despite working at a florist’s. It’s a new feeling. Like a star burning in your chest that doesn’t seem to want to go out. It hovers in you ribcage and stays there, buzzing madly.

“Thank you,” you say, lifting your eyes to his. You find he’s already gazing right back at you. There’s a rogue curl falling over his forehead that you’d love to push out of the way. “Really. I love them.”

James flashes you a boyish grin. “Good, ‘cos if you didn’t, I’d have to have a word with the girl who chose them.”

You’re still beaming when he comes inside. He follows you into the kitchen, where you find a vase for the flowers. You set about taking them out of their packaging, cutting the stalks and putting them gently in the glass vase filled with water.

James watches you and you can tell he’s trying to be nonchalant about it all, about being in your space, but his eyes scan your kitchen like it’s a map he’s trying to figure out. Your mismatched mugs on the counter. Your magnets and Polaroids and receipts on the fridge. Your overgrown plants on the windowsill.

You carry your flowers to your small living room and put them in the dead center of your coffee table. The bouquet is so big it would block most of your view of the TV if you sat on the couch. You hardly care. You’d rather look at them than the TV, anyway.

Setting the flowers down, you spot your half eaten mac and cheese and hope James doesn’t take you for a slob. You’re lucky he didn’t catch you on a Friday night. You’d be drowning in ice cream, probably.

“Are you hungry?” You ask him, half hoping he’ll say no, because who in their right mind asks their crush if they want macaroni and cheese? It’s so lame, but you can’t take it back now. “I have mac and cheese, but that’s about it, sorry.”

You cringe and wish you’d held your tongue, but James beams.

“I’d love some mac n’ cheese,” he says. “Unless it’s boxed, that shit tastes like cardboard.”

You get him some mac and cheese, glad you made it yourself, gladder you haven’t resorted to boxed food just yet. The two of you sit in the kitchen on your tall kitchen stools under your golden lights and eat. James is easier to be around than anyone you’ve ever met. He makes you feel special but not to the point where it’s too overwhelming. He’s kind and he’s golden, he acts like you’re the only person he ever wants to talk to.

Watching him eat in your home is more of a pleasure for you than you’d like to admit. He compliments your cooking. He says he likes the bowl he’s got, which is a white one with pink flowers all over it that you bought at a market ages ago. He gets a string of cheese dangling from his lip and makes a dorky face trying to get it into his mouth without using his fingers. You think you’d like to kiss him. His lips all puckered and eyes crossed as he attempts to scoop the cheese into his waiting mouth.

You’re so busy laughing at him that you don’t notice your own bowl balancing precariously on the edge of the counter. When you go back to take another spoonful, your hand knocks the bowl and it goes tumbling. Right into your lap.

“Shit,” you curse, gasping when a dollop of hot pasta lands half on your thigh and half on your shorts. The sauce spreads like wildfire over the fabric of your sleep shorts. Why do things keep spilling on your clothes when James is around? It’s becoming a theme. Your horror grows when the bowl clatters to the floor and while it doesn’t smash, it spills mac & cheese everywhere. “Oh, shit, that’s embarrassing. Um.”

You bend to clean up your mess but James beats you to it.

“Here, let me,” he says. He slides off his chair and is quick to start scooping up the ruined pasta.

“Sorry,” you stutter, standing helplessly as James cleans up your mess for you.

“Don’t be,” James shrugs and looks up at you, his cheeks dimpling as he smiles kindly. “Go change, I’ll sort this out.”

You feel an overwhelming rush of gratitude and affection for him that makes you want to kiss him stupid. You don’t. Instead you go down to your room and find something to change into. Seeing as he’s already seen you in your sleep shorts, you suppose your checkered flannel pyjama pants aren’t really much worse. Nothing can be more embarrassing than what’s just happened, you decide.

By the time you’ve changed (plus spent a lot of extra time staring at yourself in the mirror, practicing your smile), James has cleaned up the spill and is washing your bowls in the sink. You decide then and there that you like him a lot more than you’d initially thought.

You emerge into the kitchen on light footing. You feel like a magnet being drawn to him like this. It’s bizzare, how much you want to be around him, no matter how shy he makes you. It’s something you’ve never experienced before. A rip in the ocean calling your name. You know of the danger but you don’t really care. You ignore the signs because he’s James and you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body. The warning signs basically don’t exist.

“Thank you, James,” you say, standing on the threshold of the kitchen.

James flashes you a big smile, up to his arms in soap and suds, scrubbing away at a bowl. He looks like a house husband. It’s almost more than your heart can take. “That’s okay. Hey, nice pyjamas. Y’look good.”

You can tell by his tone he’s not teasing. He’s being genuine, which is somehow worse than if he’d been teasing. Your smile is so big it hurts.

-

James is gonna kiss you tonight. He’s sure of it.

So far, all of his advances have gone well. Perfect, even. Unless you count the drink-spilling incident, but if it hadn’t been for that he’d probably never have found the courage to get you alone again.

He’s taken you out to lunch once. He’s been into your work twice, not including the first time. He’s invited you to his rugby game tonight, to which you’d said yes more enthusiastically than he’d expected. It’s not exactly a date, per say. But he’d wanted to see you today and he had a game and his coach would blow his head off if he’d missed it for a girl. No matter how lovely said girl is.

He’s waxed poetic about you to Sirius and Remus more times than he can count. He’s yet to kiss you. Sirius thinks this is beyond absurd.

“So you haven’t even kissed her yet?” He asks, incredulous. He’s in his rugby kit, hair up in braids, chugging a Gatorade though the game hasn’t even started yet. “What’s the hold up, mate?”

James groans. Sirius is yet to understand that some people don’t like to jump into the deep end before they’re ready. “I don’t want to scare her off,” he explains, straightening up from where he’d been tying his laces.

“Oh yeah, you’re reaaally scary, Prongsie,” Sirius drawls, dripping in sarcasm. He rolls his eyes and then clasps James’ shoulder. He’s surprisingly and uncharacteristically genuine when he says, “Look, I think she likes you enough that kissing her won’t scare her off.”

James blinks and looks up at his friend. “You think she likes me?”

Sirius makes a face. “Are you kidding? What other girl would want to watch you eat shit in a field with a dozen other sweaty guys?”

And he’s back, James thinks. Trust Sirius to be a sweetheart one second and as asshole the next.

Soon enough James is out on the field and he wants to say his mind is on the game and not you but he’d be lying.

For the first five minutes he’s distracted trying to spot you in the stands. Then the next ten minutes are spent trying not to stare at you. You’re with Remus, whom James is hoping isn’t relaying anything he’s ever said to him about you.

You look as though, to James’ extreme delight, that you’ve dressed up for this. In a pretty dress and a jacket that borders on being so big on you it swallows you up. Sure, you’d still looked pretty drop-dead in your pyjamas the other night. But this is another level of gorgeous.

The first chance he gets he bounds over to you, ignoring his coaches instructions to ‘stay with the team’. Most of the team has scattered for half time, anyway. James makes a beeline for you.

“You came!” He shouts as soon as you’re in shouting distance.

You grin and wave at him, brilliant and dazzling and so damn pretty in the early evening sun. You’re not far up the stadium and James is grateful he doesn’t have to climb too many steps — though he’d definitely climb all the way to the top row to see you if he had to.

“Hi, James,” you say, looking happy as a clam to see him.

James beams back. He wonders vaguely if he looks as lovesick as he’s feeling. He can’t even bring himself to care if he does. He’s lucky Remus is nowhere to be seen — probably loving on Sirius somewhere.

“Hi, angel,” James says, smiling around his words, which come out all sticky-sounding and fond. “I’m so glad you came.”

You beam and rock on your heels, looking one part shy and two parts delighted, your hands clasped in front of you like you’re not sure what to do now.

“Can I give you a hug?” James asks. “I’m so happy to see you, I might explode if you say no.”

He’s joking, of course. Or maybe not so much. You nod, a tad vehement, James notices smugly.

“Yes, please,” you say, breathless.

James steps into your space, heartbeat a mile a minute. You smell like flowers again. Lavender, he thinks. He definitely doesn’t smell anywhere near as good. “You’re sure I’m not too sweaty and gross?”

You shrug. “I don’t care, James.”

“You should. You look lovely.”

You make a noise that sounds half pained and half pleased and it makes James’ heart skyrocket.

“Can you just hug me?” You ask, a hint of desperation in your tone that’s actually much more than a hint but James is trying to be a gentleman. “Please?”

James thinks if you keep this up (by this, he means, acting as though maybe you like him as much as he likes you), he’ll die on the spot. He hugs you. For his own and your sake. Wraps you up in a big strong hug that’s so passionate he accidentally lifts you off the ground slightly. You don’t seem to mind. Your arms weave around his neck like they were meant to and you hook your chin over his shoulder and go all melty.

James almost moans. He can’t believe how perfectly you fit in his arms. How your body melds into his so nicely. He’s big and firm and loud and you’re quiet and small in your own way. But it works, and James is so glad it does.

“How was work, lovely?” He says into your hair. Your hair, which smells like coconut and something sweeter.

“It was okay.” Your voice is quiet but you sound just as pleased as he does to be wrapped in each other’s arms. “Lily says good luck.”

“Hey!” This is Sirius, jogging towards the stands and the, for want of a better word, lovefest. “Why don’t I ever get hugs like that?”

James releases you but keeps a good hold on your waist, twisting to meet Sirius. “What? You want one too, Pads?”

He lets go of you and holds his arms out for a hug, half joking but also half serious.

“Not from you!” Sirius scoffs, backing away from James like his hug will give him an incurable disease. “From your pretty cheerleader over there.”

Sirius plants his hands in his hips and nods his head towards you where you’re standing behind James. James doesn’t need to look to know Sirius has probably made you embarrassed.

“She doesn’t want to hug you,” he says dryly, in an attempt to save you from his obnoxious friend. “Where’s your boyfriend? You can hug him instead.”

Sirius scowls but it doesn’t last long. You brush past James and it takes him a second to realise what’s happening.

“I’ll hug you, Sirius,” you’re saying sweetly. “C’mere.”

And to everyone’s surprise, you hug Sirius. James finds it both endearing and highly annoying. Annoying because Sirius is smirking at him over your shoulder, his hands on your lower back. Endearing because it’s apparent you’re trying to make friends with James’ friends and he couldn’t be happier. The hug doesn’t last quite as long as yours and his, though. And Sirius doesn’t quite lift you off the ground like James did.

James watches, reluctantly fond, as Sirius pulls away and smiles at you all kind and un-Sirius-like.

“Thank you, m’lovely,” he says, swooping down to kiss your cheek. James shouldn’t feel jealous, because Sirius kisses everyone on the cheek, but he does anyway.

His jealousy quickly fades when you practically skip back over to him, all smiles.

“Sorry about him,” James says quickly. He’s very used to apologising for his friends.

“No, that’s okay,” you shake your head and then take James’ forearm in your hand unthinkingly. Heat licks all up James’ arm.

“Y/N,” he says, sounding more confident than he feels. “Do you—?”

The shriek of his coach’s whistle cuts him off. Time to get back on the field, it says. James groans, long suffering, throwing his head back like he’s been resigned to the worst fate in the world. You giggle and it makes it all better.

James’ team loses the game. It’s embarrassing and then it’s not, because you bound up to him afterwards and give him a hug even better than the one at half time, gushing about how good he was, telling him it doesn’t matter that he lost because he played amazing, anyway.

He sure feels like a winner as he walks with you to the parking lot, his duffel bag swept to his wrong side so he can walk as close to you as possible.

“I didn’t know you were so good.” You’re still gushing and James thinks he’s never blushed more in his life. “I mean, not that I didn’t expect it. You just never told me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not Sirius,” James murmurs, feeling overly feverish.

“What? What’s that mean?”

James gestures vaguely with his hands. “I don’t go around bragging, is what it means. And I’m not that good. We’re just a local team, babe.”

It’s your turn to flush. Head to foot you go all shy. He thinks it’s the pet name that did it. And maybe the fact that he’s pointed out your gushing.

“Right,” you say to your shoes. “Well, I think you should play for the country, is all I’m saying.”

James laughs, delighted and a bit startled at your joking, but mostly just sick as a dog in love with you. “Really? Wow, you should tell my coach that, sweetheart. I think he’d totally agree.”

You pick up on his sarcasm and burst into giggles that make James’ chest want to explode. He realizes you’ve almost reached his car and puts his plan into action.

“Hey, did you drive here?” He asks.

You look up at him and James thinks he sees an inkling of hope in your pretty eyes. “No, I caught the bus. Why?”

“Did you want to go get Slurpees with me? I saw a 7/11 near your place the other night.” Then, because he really wants you to say yes, “I’m paying.”

Maybe it’s James’ wishful thinking but he’s pretty sure you light up like a Christmas tree. He really thinks if you keep doing things like this his head is gonna get too big for his body. You beam, looking like an angel on earth in the last fragments of sunlight, skin painted in an array of bleeding golds and pinks and oranges.

“Yeah, okay,” you nod. “Except you don’t have to pay for me, James, I have my card.”

James shakes his head, grinning as he fishes his keys from his bag. “Nah, don’t worry. Pretty girls get slurpees for free.”

He’s ninety-eight percent sure you freeze up like a block of ice as he unlocks his car. He has the generosity to not mention it.

The drive to the 7/11 closest to your place is quiet. But good quiet. James puts on the radio and is delighted when you start humming along like he’s not even there, your fingers tapping along the window where you’ve rolled it down, the wind brushing over your pretty face. He can’t quite get enough of you. Even just driving in silence with you feels like cloud nine. He’s enamored. Totally lovelorn. He’s surprised he can even drive straight.

When you get there he parks the car and then tells you to wait so he can open your door for you. He holds your hand to guide you into the 7/11. It feels like walking on air.

You both greet the guy at the cashier, you much more shyly, but James is learning you’re nothing if not polite. It’s practically empty inside, which James is glad for. How is he supposed to kiss you if there’s a bunch of strangers around? He leads you over to the slurpee machine with the excitement of a kid in a candy store.

“What flavour do you feel like?” He asks, grabbing a cup for you.

“Um,” you lick your lips and James wonders, not for the first time, how it would be to kiss them. “Grape, I think.”

“Grape?” He wrinkles his nose in pretense. “I’m more of a cherry guy, but I’ll let it slide ‘cos I like you.”

You giggle and flush, to James' extreme delight. He lets go of your hand to fill your cup for you, all the way to the top. He pops on a lid and a straw and passes it to you, cold condensation dripping over his fingers like raindrops.

“Thank you,” you say softly, taking the cup from him, your fingers soft as they brush his.

James gives you a big smile in place of a you’re welcome, then preoccupies himself with filling his own cup. He can feel your eyes on him all the while. Practically burning holes into the side of his face. His face, which feels like it’s on fire. He finishes filling his cup and shoves a lid on.

“Have I got something on my face?” He asks without looking at you, definitely teasing but he thinks you can take it.

You groan and punch him in the arm. Punch isn’t really the right word. It’s more of a brush of your knuckles. James hardly feels a thing. “James.”

James laughs, delighted at your reaction. “What?” He chuckles, picking a straw and turning to look at you. “You were—“

But you’re gone, turning into the candy section just in time for James to see the back of your jacket disappear. He follows you, grinning like mad.

“Y/N,” he says, sing-song.

“James,” you copy, with half the enthusiasm but twice the sweetness. He can almost hear you rolling your eyes.

James can’t help it, he snags your jacket in his fingers and pulls. You squeal as he twists you to face him, his hand coming to hook around your waist. Your slurpees get crushed in between your chests. James can feel the coldness of his soaking into his shirt but he hardly cares. You’re so close he could kiss you. He’d like to. It’s what he’s been trying to do all evening.

You’re gasping, breathless from the closeness and his sudden attack. “James,” you say again, panting. “What are you doing?”

James shrugs. “Nuthin’. Did you want some candy?”

You swallow and adjust your grip on your cup where it’s pressed to his chest. You’re staring at his lips. He’s staring at yours, too.

“No,” you say, your pretty eyes flickering from his eyes to his mouth and back again. “I don’t want candy.”

James licks his lips, partly because he thinks he’s about to kiss you, but mostly to tease you. “Then what do you want?”

Your eyes follow the slow movement of his tongue. “Um.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He asks, softer now. Less taunting. More sincere.

You stare at him. “We’re in the middle of a 7/11, James,” you chastise. But you don’t turn him down.

“So? There’s no one in here but us.”

He inches closer. His slurpee is probably spilling over with how much he’s squashing it but he can’t bring himself to check. He’s too transfixed by you, the hopeful look on your pretty features, eyes blown wide, lips slightly parted.

“Okay,” you breathe, hardly a word at all.

“Okay, what?” James says back, just as quiet. “I can kiss you?”

“Yes,” you nod once. Your hand ghosts over James’ elbow and he hopes you’ll grab it when he does finally kiss you. “Please.”

It doesn’t take much more convincing than that. He kisses you, and the very first thing he thinks is that he’s bitten off more than he can chew. Thrown himself in the deep end, chum for the sharks. Because it’s glorious. It’s better than he ever imagined, better than anything he could’ve conjured up in his mind. You taste like grape slurpee, sugary and sweet. You’re tentative like you always are, but it doesn’t mean you hold back. You let him kiss you as hard as he pleases, tilting your head up to meet him, gripping his elbow with your free hand like you never want to let go.

He kisses you firm but careful, passionate so you know how much he likes you but soft enough so you know he’s okay to go slow if you need to.

Soon enough the moment is ruined — James shouldn’t have expected anything less. The guy at the cashier is wondering aloud if James is planning on ever paying for the Slurpees now dripping condensation into both of your clothes and hands.

James sighs and goes to pull out his wallet, but not before pressing another kiss to your smiling mouth.

-

feedback and reblogs are very very appreciated! please please lmk if u liked it (but not if u didn’t ahahah) xx

[sytoran]

𝐊𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋, 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐌.

wanda maximoff's sons have soccer practice, while she spends some time with their young and ridiculously good-looking coach in the equipment closet.

──── 🍃 pairing. milf!wanda x buff!footballcoach!reader

──── 🍃 cont. smut (18+), sub!wanda, dom!reader, reader is gender-neutral but has a penis, shameless smut, blowjobs, thirsting, you are weak in the knees and the heart for milfy!wanda, possesiveness

──── 🍃 note. saw lizzie's oscar look and got this whole idea lmao. i am swimming in requests but here this is anyways. sue me lol.

masterlist / AO3 / join the taglist

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

every saturday, tommy and billy maximoff have football practice.

it may seem like a hassle to some parents, having to take the time out of their day to drive their kids to this place and that, but for this particular lesson, wanda doesn't mind.

the reasoning for her sweet relief doesn't lie entirely within helping her darling boys play their favourite sport, as strange as that sounds. truthfully, the answer would lean slightly more towards the person that coaches them in that sport.

but, who could blame wanda?

after all, her boys' football coach was just about the biggest heartthrob she'd ever seen.

bronzed skin kissed by the sun, expanding over broad shoulders and a sturdy figure. biceps and triceps so prominent it was nearly blinding, and forearms so structured it made architects weep. wanda felt as if you were a greek god come to life, with an unfairly charming smile and large, large hands.

wanda knew she wasn't the only one, after all, thirsting over the classic young, hot, athletic coach. 

now, watching you be surrounded by the younger moms with their kids, hanging off your every word, wanda couldn’t help but feel a bubbling feeling of jealousy rise in her.

wanda maximoff had never been a pushover.

"okay, so when scoring a goal you’re going to find small windows or open spaces. don’t wait for the perfect opportunity, take every chance you get.” you explained to the group of kids grouped in front of you in the hot sun.

“there’s no windows in football!” tommy maximoff helpfully piped up. the lively seven-year-old student of yours was always full of energy, quite unlike his twin, billy, who was generally more reserved and quiet.

you cracked a laugh at his response, before feeling a pair of eyes on you from behind. sitting in the court side benches was mrs. maximoff, with her dazzling smile, looking directly in your line of vision.

you gulped. god, as much as you loved teaching her kids, she was something else entirely. the way her exposed thighs were shining in the hot sun made your throat run dry. when mrs. maximoff gave you a playful wink, you felt something throb in your pants.

i swear to god, y/n l/n, if you get a boner in front of these seven-year olds i’ll kill you.

gratifyingly, you managed to evade the embarrassing situation, instead letting them practice goals on their own for a while. 

as all the little kids were running around in the hot sun, you retreated to a sheltered corner to grab a drink. wiping the sweat off your forehead, you nearly jumped a metre high into the air when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“didn’t mean to scare you, sorry darling.” mrs. maximoff said with a wry grin, sitting herself down next to you. you’re more than welcome to have her, noting the way her eyes raked over your taller, sweaty form. interesting.

“s’alright, mrs. maximoff. how’s your day been going?” you ask, attempting to strike up casual conversation. you ignore your heart beating faster in your chest.

wanda chuckles, leaning back with a sigh. “tiring, i suppose. extremely hot weather, though. summer is a blessing and a curse.” you’re about to agree with her wholeheartedly, before wanda’s casually unbuttoning her blouse. you choke on your words.

she’s absolutely mesmerizing. your eyes can’t seem to stray from her newly-exposed cleavage, accentuating her breasts and the pink bra that peeks through. it’s awful, you know, that your mind is running wild at the sight of the curve of her breast, but you can’t seem to help it.

the two of you spend some time, sitting on that bench, watching as the kids try and fail to kick the ball successfully within the goalposts. it’s almost therapeutic. until……

“look out!”

before you can react, the corner of your eye catches the sight of a stray ball. 

it’s flying towards wanda and the drink in her hand, and by some miracle your goalkeeper senses are awakened seconds before it can touch her.

an arm flying out to stop the ball, you miraculously catch it with one hand at such a high pace. your hand flexes with the fierce catch, a well-muscled forearm now in wanda’s direct line of vision. time’s frozen for a second, as you watch wanda’s shocked face, almost blushing too. you’d never felt more cool.

but after your goalkeeper instincts kick in, your teacher instincts kick in, and you stand up to speak to the careless kid. before you can leave, wanda tugs on your arm. you spin around and you nearly faint.

unbeknownst to you, the drink in wanda’s hand had split with the impact of the ball, and it was all over her blouse now. to add insult to injury, it easily seeped through the thin material of the white blouse, basically making it transparent, baring to your eyes what was underneath. 

the yells of the kids fade out as you stare at the wanda, shell-shocked. you can see…… everything.

despite wanda’s face of worry, you swear there’s a hint of deviousness in there, almost as if she planned to have her drink there. you shake your head. i’m goin’ mad in the sun, you think.

“i-uh, let’s get you some clean clothes, mrs. maximoff. sorry about the kids, i-”

“no worries," wanda answers promptly, holding on to your forearm. "don't want anyone else to see," she whispers, effectively hiding behind you as you lead her to the equipment closet.

the consequences of this, however, lie in the fact that you can feel wanda's nipples pressing into your back, small and hard and rubied. the searing heat in your pants is almost unbearable now.

calm down, it's not a big deal. 

wanda's hand trails over the expanse of your back when the two of you reach the equipment closet, and you unintentionally shudder under her touch. you pretend you don’t notice the smirk on her face.

you shake your head vigorously, resisting the urge to slap your hands to your cheeks. she’s just my students’ mom, you think, swearing you don’t care about how close the two of you are.

when wanda’s ass brushes against your crotch. it takes every cell of your existence not to rip off your goddamn shorts and start fucking her against the wall. you’d never been so riled up.

“here’s some clean clothes. sorry about the size, though.” you mumble, averting your eyes when wanda tries to look at you. you shove the clothes into her hands, eyes fixated on a football on the shelf. 

“help me with the button?” wanda asks, and you spin around, then you nearly choke. again.

she’s taken off her blouse, exposing her chest to your hungry eyes. the lacy pink bra is the object of your desires, distracting you in every sense imaginable. at this point, you couldn’t give a flying fuck about your boner. you know she’s as turned on as you.

"i get it, sweetheart, you're a young adult with needs, hm?" wanda asks in a sultry voice, walking up to you ever so slowly. 

you swallow, not trusting yourself to speak. all you can do is stare at wanda with a haze in your eyes. 

her hands reach the straining tent in your pants. it's erect, forming a bulge so huge wanda can barely cup all of it in her hands. 

your breathing becomes ragged as wanda traces her fingertips along the bulge. you're looking down as she gets on her knees, eyelids fluttering.

she licks her lips. 

"let me help you with that," wanda whispers, casting a look upwards. you bite back a low groan at her expression, so ready to pleasure you and take your length into her pliant mouth.

you raise an eyebrow in a challenge, staring down with dark eyes, and wanda is more than quick to rid of your shorts, admiring the sheer size of your fully-erect cock.

the tip is a cherry red, precum already leaking, and she eagerly laps up the remaining residue. you let out a moan, hands twisting into her scalp as you pull her mouth closer.

nothing could describe the euphoria you felt when wanda first wrapped her lips around your cock, clinging onto your tensed quadriceps to steady herself.

"shit," you groaned, throwing your head back, tugging onto wanda's locks of hair firmer. she let out a moan from the back of her throat, releasing your cock from her lips with a 'pop'.

moving on to languidly trail her tongue along your shaft, wanda showed off experienced skill in the way she maneuvered her way around your cock, teasing you up and down then licking at the slit.

fuck, you were close. really, really, close.

wanda was relentless in her ministrations, bringing you so close to the edge in such a short time. when she began deepthroating you, gagging prettily onto your cock, you’re sent tumbling over that edge with no safety net under.

“shit, mrs. maximoff,” you breathe, holding the sides of her flushed face, locking gazes with dilated pupils.

she gets up, slowly, brushing off her knees as if she hadn’t just brought you to a kaleidoscopic orgasm. “i’ll take my leave now, coach. the boys-”

you don’t grant her access to the exit, before you’re roughly pulling her back in for something more than just a blowjob.

after that racy encounter with wanda, the two of you seem to end up in the equipment closet a lot more. you’re making excuses, you know, pathetic, but you somehow manage to convince yourself you could ever have wanda maximoff.

you get to know her more, along the way, that her birthday is february 10, and her comfort food is parikash, and she’s sokovian, but her accent hardly ever makes its appearance anymore.

to you, wanda maximoff is more than a quick fuck, or a stress reliever. it’s stupid, you know, because she’s a divorced single mom with two kids and whole lot of responsibilities, and you’re nothing more than someone with too much love.

your role in her life is ambiguous to you. you sometimes wish you could dive into her brain to find out just what you are, but for now you have to be content with what you are. 

the first time wanda brings you back home, you're more than eager to repay every favour she's given you. 

she's hardly even unlocked the front door before you're lifting her up from the back of her thighs and up the stairs, making her so wet with that effortless, unyielding strength of yours.

it isn't long before you toss her onto the bed - the bed she used to sleep in with her ex-husband, the bed she spent hours masturbating on to the thought of you, the bed you were now devouring her on.

wanda doesn't know what she's done to deserve this, to deserve your deliciously thick cock ramming into her wet cunt, your hot mouth whispering affectionates into her ear, the silver chain on your neck dangling with each fiery thrust.

she's obsessed with the way your tattooed back muscles flex and move as you pound into her. she tries to forge it into her memory, 

you're relentless, gripping her plush thighs and pressing her knees to her head. you know she takes yoga lessons and you haven't been more thankful for that flexibility. 

wanda's spread entirely open for you, completely bare, all dripping and vulnerable, and you think you might just die.

that night, you make wanda see constellations she'd never witnessed, make her cum so hard wanda thought she might pass out, and simply take her.

that night was one that etched itself into both of your memories, of heat and fervour and lust and love.

love, those three words neither of you would dare to admit, of unsaid confessions and buried feelings.

when you lay beside a passed-out wanda, your own boundless stamina weary, you suppress the urge to stroke gently at her hair. it takes everything in you to not kiss her forehead and murmur things you'd always regret.

your heart was swelling, growing bigger each time you saw wanda maximoff, but she had little space in her life for you. 

but for now, you wouldn’t care if it came back to hit you in the face.

for now, wanda maximoff would be everything to you, and maybe that would suffice.

recently watched ant man, and i swear there was something going on with jentorra and cassie... or maybe that's my syndrome of seeing every fictional woman as lesbian LMAO hope yall enjoyed this, the fic i'll be writing next is probably this :)

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