#some weeks i feel like a single parent and it sucks

[legobabyofficial]

:/

[egg2k16]

This may be the depression speaking + the earliest trauma I've ever gone thru (completely accidental as well), but I think it's kinda pointless to give me gifts. I have clothes that still fit me and are in excellent condition. I have shoes. I have a sizeable movie collection (that tbf I can always add to), and all the books I'd want. I don't paint anymore so it's useless giving me art supplies. And unfortunately even giving me money is hilariously pointless bcus I'm not even gonna spend it on anything, I'm just gonna put it into my savings account and keep living day by day as I do: doing nothing...interesting

[miniwheat77]

You belong to me. (Ghost x Reader.)

!reader is a Virgin, virginity loss, p in v sex, unprotected sex, Ghost is a little possessive, this is age gap smut and you’ve been warned. Ghost is like 40 in this. Absolutely NO minors!

This is not edited so sorry for any mistakes

He doesn’t know what did it.

He doesn’t know which part of you started this… obsession.

Maybe it was your smile. Or your personality. How lively you were for being in the military. It was a cruel job and you still managed to be so happy.

Maybe it was just that you were not his normal type in women. A young virgin. Who despite being exposed to some of the toughest situations out there was still so innocent.

But something caused it, made him have that one dream. He was tucked away in his bed, sound asleep. He seen your face as he fell into a deeper sleep. You were laughing and smiling. Turning to him to acknowledge him as he walked into a room. Greeted him with a kiss.

Ghost woke in a hurry, where on earth it had come from. He doesn’t know. He had never had these feelings for you before this. They came out of nowhere. And it started fast. Like he got sucked into a black hole and could no longer figure a way out. He was gone- done for. Every second he spent around you after that, he dreaded. Because Ghost didn’t do this. He didn’t have feelings for people. But your smile. Your laugh and how it could pierce his ears from what felt like miles away. How when you spoke to him, like you were talking to a friend made his brain foggy as he watched your lips move. Lost in a daze. Most of the time you had to repeat yourself because he was so spaced out he heard none of it.

He knew he was in too deep when he started looking into you.

Finding all of your social media accounts. Coming across every single post you’d ever been featured or tagged in. He knew who your parents and grandparents were and how close you were with some. He even snuck into Price’s office once and stole any file that contained you. He knew everything there was to know about you, down to your shower routine at night.

Ghost knows he’s got to be sick for how obsessed he’d become but he just couldn’t help himself.

When he came to the conclusion that you must be a virgin, he was by your side always.

If anyone else found out that you were a virgin- it would be bad. Especially some of the men who they called enemies. They were cruel and dangerous to women. During any missions at all, Ghost was right with you.

When it started, you didn’t understand it. Why he was all over you all of a sudden but you didn’t mind. You liked Simon. If he wanted to be friends, that’s okay. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t until he was killing for you that he knew he had a problem.

When an enemy had put their hands on you, he was merciless. He could be brutal, violent. But never to you. Not ever. It ate him alive that he liked you so much and he couldn’t have you. You weren’t his. You didn’t have to listen to him, you didn’t have to consider what he said. You had no ties to him whatsoever and it drove him mad. Ghost was bothered deeply by his infatuation with you. You would never go for someone like him, not when he’s old enough to be your dad. Some nights, when it’s especially cold. He can barely stand it. He wants you close to him, by his side at all times. He wants you. He wants it all.

“Alright. let’s have a chat, shall we?” Captain Price’s voice snags Ghost out of his thoughts.

He’s sitting off to one side of the large oak table sat in the middle of the conference room. Everyone else is inside as well. You’re next to him because he chose to sit down next to you. “Obviously, we’re going to go on a break for a few weeks, I wanted you all home for a while to relax before we started up on these next few missions. If you didn’t want to go, I can still find you guys something to do on base. There will still be other commanding officers and some other new recruits keeping it up and running. If you wanted to stay on base I need to know by tomorrow.”

Ghost will always respect Price. Always.

“I’d like to stay on base, Captain.”

Ghost respected him, and right now he almost wanted to give the old man a kiss once you’ve spoken up.

“Okay, Y/N. Anyone else?”

“Me, always.” Ghost mumbles. “Right, obviously.” Captain Price nudges him. “Workaholic.” Price mumbles, making Simon smile underneath his balaclava.

Ghost doesn’t hear another word of the meeting. You don’t say anything else and that’s all he wanted to hear. Although he wondered why you were choosing to stay on base when you had a family.

Once the day came when everyone else left, Ghost was going to miss them. He always did during breaks. Especially on the few he’s been left alone. He missed Price’s lectures. Soaps banter, Gaz’s pranks. He missed them all, they were the only family he had of course. But he didn’t mind this time, not since you’d be around. You keep him company until they came back, if you liked it or not. Ghost was getting soft as he got older, he knew it. But he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t really want to anymore. He liked to be close with people even if he knew it would kill him if he lost any of them.

It takes a few days before Ghost finishes up what he usually does. Cleaning up his room, getting rid of some things. He likes to reset completely when he has the time. When he’s done, he finally decides to seek you out.

It seems as if you’re doing the same, your door is propped open and he walks right inside. “Hey.” You’re reaching for a book on a bookshelf. “Oh, hey Ghost.” You smile at him. You turn back to the bookshelf, turning back to him in a hurry. The book topples over onto you and you step away as the rest follow suit. He can’t help but laugh. “You’re.. not wearing a mask.” You blush. “No, I’m not.” He laughs. “You need help?”

“No I just didn’t expect you to come in here with your face out like that!” You laugh, picking up the books and setting them on your bed. “I mean.. I can put it back on.” He laughs. “No! No- I just. You caught me off guard that’s all.” You blush, avoiding his gaze as you stumble over his words. “You can’t walk in here practically naked, I mean you’re showing so much skin.” You joke. You can actually see his lips turn up in a smile and it makes your chest ache just how handsome he is. “Yeah, I know it’s a lot of handsome to just throw around like this.” He smirks, hearing you laugh. He loves it.

If he could only hear that for the rest of his life, he’d never complain again.

You roll your eyes.

“I see we had the same idea, bit of a reset.”

“Yeah, I just wanted it to all be set up and clean for when we go back out. Swear I’m still cleaning up sand from our trip to Iran.” You laugh. “Oh god me too.” Simon laughs. He sits down on the edge of your bed, watching you as you replace the books. He offers you help of course but you deny it. “I was wondering why you chose to stay, I thought you had mentioned visiting your parents?” Ghost doesn’t miss the way you stiffen.

“Uh.. well.” You turn to him. “It’s.. kind’ve… personal I guess.” You mumble. “Oh, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He looks up at you. “It’s just this.. family friend we have.” You start, looking at the cover of the book in your hands. “He’s been my dad’s friend since I was in my early teens.” Ghosts hair stands up, worried at where you’re going with this. You sit down at the small desk you have in your room. “He always acted really weird when I was around and when I was home last… he tried.” You pause. “He tried making a pass at me, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It turned into this whole thing. My dad got involved and him and my mum didn’t believe me. They believed him. So yeah, they planned this big party for me to come back. But I found out they invited him so I lied and said I was stuck here. But.. I think you needed some company anyways.” You smile. You’re trying to make light of what you’ve just told him.

“I’m sorry to hear that. He didn’t touch you did he?”

Ghost knows he’ll track him down. Torture him for laying a finger on you.

“He tried.”

Ghost nods. “He left with a bloody nose.” You laugh. “You know, if he ever does anything to you. This entire base will have his head on a pike.” He looks up at you. The way he looks at you has chills rising on your body. He’s deadly serious. You smile. “I appreciate it, but I don’t plan on going back. Not when they sided with him so easily.” You laugh. “Ah, you get to missing them too much, just take me with you. I’ll be your body guard.” He laughs. Inside, Ghost is seething. How dare he. How dare he try to hurt you.

“I appreciate it, but I’m not putting you through that. They’re hard to get along with. Besides that if I brought him a guy twice my age I’d probably give my dad a heart attack.” Ghost laughs at this. “What the man doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” He winks, seeing the pink rise to your cheeks has you turning away from him.

“You’re funny.” You giggle.

———

For the next couple of weeks, you spend nearly every second of every day with Ghost. He helps you with your chores, you help him with his. You get done faster and get to spend even more time doing practically nothing together. You aid on a couple of spare missions, he shows you a little bit of mechanic work, he even rents a rental car in the town you’re in so that he could show you around. It’s by far some of the most fun you’ve ever had and you like being so close to Ghost. But there’s been something nagging at you in the back of your mind.

And that’s your growing feelings for him.

Your parents have nonstop harassed you to come home, even if it’s for a couple days. You ended up folding but the thought of leaving Ghost here alone drives you crazy. You never thought you’d be so close to the Lieutenant.

You’re sitting at the edge of your bed when he knocks at your door. Right about now, the two of you would be going down to have dinner. But this time, he shows up with trays in his hands. You smile as you open the door. “Mess hall is full, thought I’d bring you something before there’s nothing left.” He laughs. “Thanks Ghost.” You smile. “Is something going on?” He asks.

“Ah… I just.. thought I’d ask you something.” You say nervously. “What’s up?” He asks. “Well.. my parents have been nagging me to go home.” You sigh. He nods his head, sitting down at your desk. “And.. I told them I’d go home for just a couple days, no longer than a week.” You shrug. He nods his head. “Yeah? Are you going to be okay?”

“See that’s the thing. I.. was wondering.” You laugh. “If you’d go as like.. my.. I don’t know.” You pause. “Pretend boyfriend?” You laugh. He turns to you. “Yeah, no problem.” He looks up at you. “Wait really?” You ask.

“Course, not like I got anything better to do. Besides, if that bastard puts his hands on you it gives me an excuse to hurt him.” He shrugs. You laugh. “Hey. I really appreciate it. You have no idea.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. “My dad is probably going to give you a lot of grief for how old you are though.” Ghost laughs. “Love, I’m in the military. I’ll be just fine.” You smile. Thank god.

———

You sigh, which makes Ghost turn his head to you. “What’s going on?” He asks. He’s pulling into the driveway. “That’s.. his car.” You sigh. “Hey.” He places his hand on your thigh to reassure you. “He’s not going to do anything. I swear I won’t leave your side.” You smile. “Thank you Ghost.”

Captain Price was surprised to hear that the two of you had left together, but after speaking to Simon in private he understood why. Simon felt a little bad for spilling your business but he was your Captain after all. You still had another few weeks before you were due back anyways, you had time to kill. Ghost helps you unload your bags. Carrying them up to the front door with you. Once you reach the door, your mum opens it up.

She’s shocked to see that you aren’t alone.

“Hi Y/N!” She smiles. Bringing you into a hug. “Hey.” You mumble. “Who is your friend?” She asks. “Oh uh.. this is Simon.” You nod. Simon reached his hand out. You can tell your mum is slightly intimidated by the sheer size of him. She takes his hand anyways.

“My boyfriend.”

Your mums eyes nearly bulge out of her head when those words leave your lips but she smiles nonetheless. “It’s nice to meet you, Simon.” She stands to the side. Allowing the both of you inside. “Your dad and Mike are in the back.” She smiles. Ghost can see you go stiff.

So his name is Mike.

“Simon I can show you Y/N’s room. So that you can go see your dad.” She turns to you. “That’s alright, Y/N said she wanted to show me her old room.” He smiles, rejecting her offer. You mentally thanked him. “Oh alright than. Well. I’m just finishing up dinner.” She smiles. “You know where to find us.”

You nod your head, leading Simon up to your old bedroom. “You are literally a life saver Simon.” You mumble the moment the door is closed. He laughs. “So.. am I staying in here with you. They got any strict rules?” He laughs. “No weird rules but there’s only one bed.” You blush. “That’s alright. Just don’t be a blanket hog.” He nudges you. “Let’s go meet Mike.” He grasps your wrist, tugging you along. You groan out. “I know you wanna bite his head off Simon but you can’t.”

“Says who?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Definitely not me.” You mumble. You lead Simon out to the back door to the back yard where everyone now sits. He opens up the door for you, your mum notices how kind he is to you immediately. She didn’t say anything to your dad yet, unsure of how this would go. It’s quiet the moment the both of you move closer. “Uh.. hey honey.” your dad smiles. He’s skeptical. “Who’s this?” He stands up. Ghost sees the man that’s made you uncomfortable. Staring him down from the moment they lock eyes. Only looking away to shake your dad’s hand. “I’m Simon.” He smiles.

“My boyfriend.” You finish for him. Your dad nods. “Nice to meet you Simon. You seem a little old.”

“Ah, to be honest I thought Y/N was older, she’s pretty mature for her age.” He nods. “Yeah, that’s true. She’s a good girl. Smart too.”

“Absolutely.” Simon agrees. Simon can see that Mike is uncomfortable upon hearing that you’ve got a boyfriend. It only makes Simon want to tear him to shreds even more. “Oh uh. Simon. This is Mike, he’s a family friend.”

Simon is sure to grip his hand extra hard as he shakes it. Towering over him. He wants him to feel small.

“Let’s sit for dinner yeah?” Your mum breaks the awkward silence.

It was nice enough outside to be able to sit outside to eat. Everyone keeps asking about Simon. How the two of you met and how you came to be. Simon made up something cute on the spot and you couldn’t deny the butterflies it gave you. Simon is a great man, and it sucks that you have to fake this.

“Hey Y/N. You mind helping me get some stuff out of my car?” Mike speaks up.

“Nonsense, no reason she should do it when I’m around. I’ll help you.” Simon Stands up from the bench. Mike stiffens up. It’s clear that there he had an ulterior motive. He’ll most likely have to come up with something in the spot. Simon expects him to say “oh I forgot.”

He leads Simon to his trunk.

Simon quickly notices that it’s empty. “Oh shoot. Maybe I forgot to put it in here after all.” Simon lets out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s not that you wanted to get Y/N alone so you could be a fucking creep toward her some more.”

“Excuse me?”

Simon grasps hold of the man, slamming into the back of the car. His hands gripping his lapels.

“She told me about you. And I’m not gonna let her be alone around you because you’re a fucking freak. If you even so much as look at her wrong I’ll bury you. And nobody will ever know where to find you. Do I make myself clear?”

Mike nods his head eagerly. “Yes I understand.” He flinches. “Great. Don’t come around again while she’s here. If I see your face again we’re going to have a problem. And if you tell her dad about this conversation we had, I’ll be sure to make the bullshit worth my while. Now go back in there and let them know you’ve forgotten about something and that you have to go.” He nods his head, and finally Simon lets him go. They both walk back into the house and Simon returns to his spot next to you. “I must’ve forgotten it at home, but my boss called me and asked me to come in for some last minute questions, so unfortunately I’ll have to get going.”

He looks pale. You know immediately something has happened. “Aw, sorry to hear that Mike. You have a good day alright?” Your mum smiles. Simon wants to scowl at her but knows he can’t.

It’s getting late. Both you and Simon are tired from the time zones and your parents are going to go play Bingo, Mike invited them out.

Unusual when you were home. Simon must’ve really scared him. “You two get some rest, we’ll be home later tonight.” Your mum smiles. Once they’ve left, the weight leaves your shoulders. “Fuck me, thank god.” You laugh. You start up the stairs and Simon follows you. “What did you say to him?”

“What are you talking about?” He asks. “Mike looked like he’d seen a damn ghost, you know exactly what I’m talking about. What’d you do to him?”

“Me? Say something to Mike? No way.” He smirks. He stretches back and his jacket raises and you can see his toned stomach, you have to turn away. Swallowing hard. “Liar.”

“I’m the Ghost he seen, darling. But you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Alright?” He forces you to look at him. Nodding your head. “Thank you Simon.”

“Nothing to it sweetheart.” He laughs. “Your parents probably think you’re going through a crisis. Did you see the way they looked at me all day?”

“Yeah. It’s just because you’re older.” You giggle, laying down on the bed. Simon throws himself down beside you. “First guy I’ve ever brought home and you’re almost as old as my dad.” You laugh. You freeze up as the words leave your mouth. “I- I mean-“

“No worries, your secret is safe with me.” He turns to look at you. “What?”

Simon chuckles. “I know that you’re a virgin Y/N.” You can feel your blood run cold. “What? How do you know that?”

Ghost laughs. “I can just tell.” You look down, blushing.

“Hey. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He rolls onto his side, resting on his hand. “It’s actually kind’ve impressive. As pretty as you are I’m surprised nobody has scooped you up and married you yet.” He laughs.

“You think I’m pretty?” You look up at him.

He laughs. “Of course I do. What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.. I guess I just never thought that much into it. I didn’t think I was that pretty.”

“So clearly you’ve never looked to a mirror.” He rolls his eyes. “Tough talk coming from you. I had no idea how handsome you were until you surprised me without a mask on.” You roll your eyes. “Oh? Handsome? Don’t let your panties get too wet.” he winks. Crimson creeps up your cheeks and you shake your head at him. “Shut up. You’re so full of yourself.” You roll your eyes. He laughs. “I’m kidding.”

Once the conversation has died down, you’ve nuzzled closer to him unintentionally.

“Y/N.” He speaks up out of the blue.

“Yeah?” You look at him. “There’s a way to make this easier yknow.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean.. we’re faking it. Right?”

“Yeah?”

“What if we didn’t?”

You sit up, looking at him in confusion. The way your hair falls perfectly as you look at him, so beautiful when you’re confused. “I don’t think I understand.” You laugh. “What if we didn’t fake it?”

“Are.. are you saying that-“

“I want you to be my girlfriend.”

You didn’t understand metaphors in person until those words left his lips and the earth stopped spinning. It feels like your blood freezes over in your veins. “I-“ you freeze up. He sits up. Taking your hand in his. “I know I’m throwing a lot at you right now. But I’ve felt this way about you for some time. I mean you had to have noticed me coming around you more right?”

“I.. I guess so. I just thought it was because… well I don’t know.” You blush, looking down. “I know a little bit more about you than I should.. and I know it’s wrong of me. You’re so young and I can’t ask you to give up your life for me.” He breathes. “How?”

“I did a little snooping. Through your social media. And.. your file.”

“My file? Like the one in our Captain’s office?”

He shrugs.

Heat pools between your legs, you’ve never been so attracted to anyone in your entire life. “You.. stole files to get to know me?” You look up at him. “Well when you put it that way it sounds like I’m a creep.”

“You are a creep. If you wanted to know you could’ve asked me.” You smirk. You’re clearly poking fun at him. “Yeah, doesn’t take a genius to see how perfectly innocent you are. You n your perfect unfucked pussy.”

Your mouth drops open and you shove him back. “I’m kidding- I’m kidding.” He laughs. “Watch your mouth, Riley. I might be a girl but I’ll still kick your ass.”

“I believe it. I’ll be on my best behavior.” He laughs.

“So what do you say?”

“You really want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask. He nods. “You’re not just saying that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not going to have sex with me and than dump me are you?”

He looks stunned by your question. “I might be an asshole but jeez. Have some faith in me.” He mumbles.

“Fine.” You laugh. “Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Good, god I’ve been waiting for this.” He sits up, pressing his lips to yours immediately.

He pulls you back beside him, his lips not moving from yours until he feels he’s had enough. He pulls you closer into his side, tugging the blanket up over the both of you.

Simon almost never sleeps well. He spends most of his time awake, seeing nothing but darkness. But with the bedside lamp on, he can see you clearly. And he thinks you’re even more beautiful asleep.

He knows how stressful this has been for you. You never stopped tapping your foot once you left the airport. You never noticed him making an attempt to soothe you. Holding it still so that you would relax a little more. You briefly feel his fingertips gliding through your hair. You’re peaceful when you’re asleep. Nothing bad. You’re safe here, so long as Simon is around.

He only hopes you’ll want him around forever.

———

“Honey… is everything okay?” Your mum asks. Simon is still asleep, it’s early. You’re sitting down across from her at your table.

“What? Why?”

“Because.. Simon is so much older than you honey. You.. you don’t really expect this to go anywhere do you?”

You pause, looking up at her. “Excuse me?” You cross your arms. “Y/N… I’m not trying to be mean okay. It’s just.. men like Simon don’t want a relationship. They just want-“

You raise your hand up, stopping her.

“Don’t you dare categorize Simon.”

She sighs. “Y/N. You know that’s not what I mean. I just mean that men like Simon only have one thing on their mind.”

“Yeah? And that is?”

“You know exactly what I mean Y/N.”

“Sex? You think he’s only with me for sex?”

“Y/N… lower your voice.” She seethes.

“Yeah well if he only wanted me for sex he’d be long gone by now.” Her eyes widen.

“You’ve already slept with him? How long have you been together?”

“Couple weeks.” You shrug. She shakes her head. “I thought we raised you better than this.” You freeze, looking up at her and laughing. “I don’t even want to hear any of that considering you wouldn’t even side with your own daughter after Mike made a pass at me.”

“Not this again Y/N.”

“Yeah, not anymore. Because if he touches me again Simon is going to break his hand.”

She shakes her head. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I can make my own decisions. I mean for christ’s sake, I kill people for a living.” You scoff. “And for the record. Simon isn’t like other guys. I’ve watched him kill people for trying to hurt me.” You laugh, standing up. “I think we’ll probably be heading out first thing in the morning, this was clearly a mistake.” You make your way upstairs. “Maybe we won’t be here when you change your mind, when he hurts you.”

“You wouldn’t be there anyways.” You roll your eyes. You hear her leave through the front door. Her car starting.

You make your way upstairs. Simon sitting at the edge of the bed. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Did you hear that?”

Simon nods his head. “I’m sorry Y/N.” He breathes. “Mike is a fucking creep and they’re fucked up for not believing you.”

“What? No. That’s- no.” You laugh. “I could care less about them believing me about Mike. It’s her shit talking you that drives me crazy. You’ve always been good to me and that’s wrong of her to say.”

Simon laughs. “I don’t exactly have the best rep Y/N. You should’ve known that before you started dating me.”

You turn to look at him, and the look in your eyes has his smile fading. “I… I’m sorry.” He scratches the back of his head nervously.

“Don’t be.” You mumble the words under your breath. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to offend you-“ you start toward him, kissing him hard. You push him back into the bed. “Woah- Y/N.” He pushes you up. “What are you doing?” He breathes. A gasp leaving his lips when you climb on top of him to straddle him. “Shit.” He grits his teeth. “Hey- listen. You aren’t thinking straight.” You look up at him, eyes dripping lust. “I’m thinking just fine.”

He grits his teeth as you rock your hips down into him. He quickly flips you over. “Y/N. You’re not ready for this.”

“Simon.” You’re breathless as you look up at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for this, to be honest.”

He stares down at you. God he wants this, of course he does. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. That’s not him. He lowers himself down again, locking his lips with yours. Your heart is thumping in your chest and he can hear it. “Is this really where you want to do this?” He pulls away. You look around. Biting back a smirk. “I’ll take that as a yeah.” He shakes his head, standing up. The door doesn’t have a lock, so he puts a chair up in front of it. When he turns back you’ve already shed your shirt, and you’re working on your pants. He’s still wearing sweatpants.

“I don’t have anything..” he sighs. “It’s okay.” You nod.

He pushes you back, moving himself between your legs. “You trust me?” He asks. You nod your head. Looking up at him. “M’gonna try not to hurt you.” He breathes. “I want you to know that I’d never take advantage of you. If you don’t like anything at all, you tell me.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I know.”

He slides down the soft pajama pants you’ve got on. He tried so hard not to smother you the night before. He wants it all with you but knows not to move too fast, he doesn’t want to scare you off. He kisses you, moving lower down your body. Scattering kisses over your soft skin. Hearing you whine out as he moves down your chest. Over your stomach and onto your thighs. You lift your head, looking him in the eyes as he glides his tongue through your folds for the first time. The first time you’ve ever been touched by a man. Your eyes grow heavy, and you gasp. He sucks at your clit and watches you squirm as he tongues your clit. You try to clamp your thighs shut but he forces them open. Wanting you to get used to him touching you, relax you a little bit. He’s going to need you relaxed for when he enters you for the first time. He keeps it up for a few minutes until your thighs are shivering. You’re right on the edge but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

Pulling away just as he’s got you to the edge. Hearing you whine out.

You’re already sweaty and your legs are jello.

“Relax. You’re ready for me sweetheart.” He moves himself between your legs, kissing back up your stomach and chest. “You are so beautiful like this. So beautiful.” He shakes his head. “I’m gonna fuck you now. Do you think you can handle it?” He asks. “Yes.” You answer fast. He pushes his sweats down to his mid thigh.

Just then, you hear the door close downstairs. “Shh. It’s alright.” He spits in his hand, gliding it over his cock. Slicking himself up as much as he can. Not wanting to hurt you any more than he has to. He holds your thighs open. Lining himself up with your entrance. He starts to slip between the folds of your pussy, your mouth popping open. He knows you’re about to cry out, clamping a hand over your mouth and burying himself the rest of the way inside of you. Sealing the deal.

This isn’t just casual anymore. You’re his now.

He lowers himself down. Still halted.

“You belong to me.”

You cry into his hand but he muffles it. He slides himself out of you and rocks his hips back into you. Feeling the wetness of your tears on his hand. “My god you are tight.” He breathes. Clenching his eyes shut. He rocks into you at a steady pace. A knock at the door has you going stiff and he rests his hand on your stomach. The other around your mouth still. He draws his hand away from your stomach, pressing his index finger over his lips. Shushing you.

“Y/N. We need to talk.”

It’s your dad.

Simon slowly draws his hand away from your mouth. Making sure you’ll be quiet. But he doesn’t stop his thrusts.

“Okay- I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Mike is here.”

Simon grits his teeth, shaking his head. “I said I’ll be down in a minute.”

Your dad sighs at the other end of the door. His footsteps disappearing down the stairs.

“Focus on me. M’gonna make you feel good baby.” He breathes.

He adjusts himself to be angled just right. Holding you still as he starts to rock himself into that one spot. Your mouth falls open the first time he brushes up against it. That spongy spot that’s so sensitive. “Cover your mouth darling. S’alright. Just relax.” He’s whispering. His voice so low you can barely hear it. You clamp your own hand on your mouth as he holds your hips steady, rocking into you. You’re barely keeping it together and that’s what he wants. He wants you to fall apart. He wants you on him. Clamping down around him. He wants to draw you in closer. You’re his and he wants to show you that. He holds you steady, keeping the same pace. He wants to be more rough but knows you aren’t quite ready for that. He moves your hand away from your mouth to kiss you. His lips move against yours sloppily and you notice his thrusts are a little sloppy as well. He’s getting close, but so are you. The unfamiliar feelings of a knot builds in your lower belly.

His teeth latch onto your bottom lip. Pulling it between his teeth and sucking at it. Your whines egg him on. Pulling him into you. He’s addicted.

“Simon… I’m really close.” You whine. Your voice is low and he knows nobody can hear you. Thank god, they don’t deserve to hear such angelic noises. You’re good. You’re the perfect amount of good Simon needs in his dark life. You make him better. His cock throbs hard inside of you. He grits his teeth. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be so gentle with me. I can take it.” You breathe, looking up at him. He laughs. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into baby.”

“I think I do.”

Simon lifts you up, laying you down on the floor, if they’re downstairs, they’ll hear the bed creaking. He pushes your legs up, and starts his bruising pace. Fucking into you like it’ll be the last time. Your eyes widen, but he clamps a hand over your mouth. “You wanted this. You can take it.” He growls. Your eyes roll back and you fall apart. Throbbing around him as you reach your high. You’re clamping down around him tightly and he can barely keep himself together. Of all of the people you thought you might lost your virginity to, Ghost was never one of them.

He takes one last hard thrust, jawline clenching up as he grits his teeth. His eyes screw shut and you realize that’s he’s just finished inside of you. Your eyes widen as you feel his warmth filling you.

He relaxes himself into you.

“Fuck- m’sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking I just couldn’t stop myself.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You look up at him. You’re mesmerized by him.

He laughs, letting his head hang. “You can’t look at me like that. I won’t let you walk away.” He laughs.

You let your head rest against the floor. “You have to go with me.”

“I wouldn’t let you go down there alone. Not with that prick down there.” Simon growls. Sliding out of you. You gasp out as he does.

You redress yourselves, Simon letting you borrow one of his hoodies. A way to assert dominance, but you didn’t need to know that.

You make your way downstairs and he follows close behind. “What’s going on?” You ask.

“Mike wanted to apologize.”

Simon grips your hand in his. Pulling you closer. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have done what I did and I’m sorry Y/N.” You swallow hard. Your mum and dad look guilty. “We have to apologize too. For not believing you.” Your dad speaks up. “I don’t forgive you. Not any of you.” You breathe. “We’re heading out first thing in the morning and I won’t be back until I’m ready to.”

You pull Simon along, out the front door.

“How about I show you around? Where I grew up.” He smiles. “Course.” He smiles. Following you down the drive of your parents’ house. “You’ll have to show me where you grew up sometime.” You smile. “Yeah, of course. I’d love to darling.” He laughs. “You’re a strong girl you know that?” He opens up the car door for you. “I don’t know.”

“M’serious. You’re brave and strong. They don’t deserve a girl like you.”

You smile.

“So what does that tell you?” You ask. He moves closer. “I don’t know.” His lips ghost over yours.

“Don’t fuck it up, Riley.”

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Two ships (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Two people who do not understand each other, but keep coming back together. Familiar much? It’s the tale you share with your brother, Daemon.

Warnings: Crybaby! Reader. Medieval punishment for children. Canon character death (Alyssa and Baelor) Sexual thoughts. Prostitution. Mature language. Incest. Fluff.

A/N: In which we explore the complicated dynamics of the sister wife. Requested. We also suscribe to @just-some-random-blogger doctrine about Daemon being a scary unhinged man but soft for the reader.

THE FIRST TIME your brother makes you cry is when you are eight years old. It is, of course, not the first time you tear up because of him. But there is a difference between tearing up because he tugged too hard on your braid, or because he cut your favorite doll’s hair and what he did to you that day.

You shall never forget the reason for your mother’s death, not for the rest of your life. It’s one of those core memories, a truth of the universe. You cannot forget fire burns, you cannot forget water is wet, and you cannot forget your mother is dead because of you. Even if you do not know when you learned those facts, they are still there. Tucked into your mind.

As a child, you used to be quiet. You barely cried, or demanded things of anyone. As the youngest and only girl of the household, you often felt like there was an unbreachable gap between you and your family. And so, you filled your days with your lessons, and behaved well, eager for praise and attention.

Your relationship with your brothers was complicated. Your father was often far away, busy with his important position, so Viserys felt more like a parent than a sibling. The age difference didn’t help things along. While you were still learning how to walk, his betrothal was already negotiated.

Daemon, while much closer in age, is much more distant too. He is mercurial, playing the cruelest tricks on you, but also defending you from other children. Just last week, he had dyed your beloved white dog green, but he had also punched a steward’s son for mocking your braids.

He can never decide if he hates you or loves you. And today, it’s one of the days he hates you. You can’t do anything right, it seems. As you break your fast, with Viserys cutting up your food for you, he calls you a baby. When the Septa comes to get you for your lessons, you are a suck-up. His bad mood escalates during the day, and when your father arrives for lunch and dares ruffle your hair, Daemon doesn't hesitate to call you a cocksucker whore.

For his offense, his mouth is washed with soap. It is not a punishment you have ever endured, because everyone knows ladies don’t get physical punishments, but it looks unpleasant. Whatever cocksucker whore means mustn't be very nice.

By the time his punishment is over, your father is long gone again. He has disappeared into his chambers, and Viserys has been left with the bitter task of reconciling you.

“You will apologize to our sister.” He orders Daemon. “Now.”

“NO!” Daemon shrieks, face blotchy from the humiliation of his mouth being washed with soap. He has not shed a single tear, which you find admirable despite yourself. The taste alone would make you gag, and that is without including the humiliation of a servant holding you while Viserys does the deed.

You feel awkward at the thought. Something doesn’t sit right with the thought of such a thing being a punishment, but you do not dare voice it. You simply sit in the chair Viserys has pulled for you and kick your feet. It soothes you slightly.

“Take it back, Daemon or so help me the Seven…”

“I will not take it back!” Daemon screams, pushing at Viserys. “She is a little whore! She has you all wrapped around her little finger, and now you will send me away…”

“Daemon.” Viserys grabs his wrists, in warning. With several years and a growth spurt on his side, he manages to subdue him easily. You worry that will not be the case for much longer. Daemon looks very different from your peaceful Viserys, shoulders broader, hands a bit bigger. In a few years, he will become a fearsome warrior, and Viserys will still be your bookish older brother.

“Why do I have to go squire for some stupid lord, anyway? We are the blood of the dragon! We do not need those fools.” At this new information, you frown. You clutch your doll more tightly. No one had informed you Daemon had to go squire away from Viserys and you.

“Fostering is important. It helps us form bonds with other houses.” Viserys explains, with the patience of someone who has had this argument already. You tug on your doll, feeling sadder by the minute. Everyone knew but you?

“Why don’t we send her away?” Daemon points at you, and a sudden wave of fear hits you. Viserys can’t agree with him. You cannot leave. Your panic almost makes you miss his next words. “She is the reason mother is dead. I hate her.”

And the world stops for a second. The argument goes on, Viserys screaming at Daemon, but you are still stuck there. Your ears begin to ring, so you press your hands tightly to them and shake your head.

By the Seven, Daemon is right, you realize with growing horror. Your father and Septa always told you your mother had died the way you were born, from the difficult birth. Tears begin to fall down your face, but you barely notice them. It feels like you are choking.

In your childish mind, the death of your mother in childbirth, and your birth had never been connected. You never thought it had been your fault. But Daemon was right. She was dead because she had birthed you. It was your birth that killed her.

Her death was your fault. You killed her.

No. No. It can’t be right.

“That is not true.” You turn to Viserys, uncaring they have long since moved on with the argument. He has always protected you and reassured you. Even takes care to get rid of the monsters beneath your bed every night. He will fix it. “Brother, he is lying again!”

Viserys makes a strange face. A cross between a grimace and a frown. He doesn’t refute it, nor tries to comfort you.

“It’s the truth.” Daemon smiles, with the smugness of someone who has delivered a killing blow. He advances, his eleven-year-old body seeming larger than life to you, and pokes a finger in your sternum. “You killed her.”

It feels like a rug has been pulled from under your feet. You stumble back. It’s all your fault. Your mother is dead, and your father is never home, haunted by the memory of his wife, because of you. Daemon and Viserys lost their mother, because of you.

You killed her. You killed her. You killed her. The world looks the same around you, despite the revelation, and you wonder if it is so because everyone knew but you. Is it why Daemon doesn’t love you? Why father is never around?

A sob makes its way out of your throat, and then another. And another. Soon, you are bawling like a dying animal, and feel like it too. You cry so much, your little heart feels like it will jump out of your chest and you will die. You cannot breathe, choking in your own snot and tears, and panic makes you nauseous.

Never in your life had you ever cried so. A nervous fit, the Maester will call it later, after you puke your lunch and stop making heaving noises like you are lacking air. One caused by extreme distress. Daemon will be standing guard at the foot of your bed when you come to be again. They had ended up having to give you three drops of Milk of the Poppy to calm you down.

It doesn’t happen again, and you barely remember it when you grow up. But Daemon never forgets it.

CRYING IS A weakness that cannot be tolerated. The three of you had been born dragons, but sometimes Daemon doubted Viserys and you had as much fire in your veins as he did.

Said doubt intensifies when he finds you crying in the gardens. Daemon has never been fond of crying women. He is not an empathetic man, and has a tendency to think he is surrounded by fools. Such a character trait doesn’t lend itself to soothing crying maidens. At least, not sincerely.

If he wants to bed the chit, Daemon can pretend like the best mummer. It’s not hard at all to fool highborn maidens into thinking he shares something special with them, convincing them that the pain won’t last, that it will start to feel good soon. When it comes to you, though, the problems start.

You are not a common whore, like most women at court. As a daughter of House Targaryen, you are closer to a goddess than a woman. Fooling a goddess is no easy task, much less when the goddess knows you so well.

His usual tricks do not work. When Daemon tries to apply faux pity, and forced pleasantries, you see right through him. It’s not because you are particularly cunning, but rather the fact that you have a long memory.

Long enough to remember all the pranks and fun he had had at your expense when the two of you were children. With how much Daemon tortured you, it’s no wonder you prefer Viserys.

Daemon never meant to be as nasty to you as he had been. He coveted the attention Viserys paid you, as the youngest in the family. He disliked how everyone fawned over you, how his mother had died, and his father had left, and all they had gotten in exchange was you.

Another part of Daemon simply enjoyed mischief. Causing chaos for chaos’s sake. Like any young boy, he had fun playing tricks on others. The disdain he felt for you had made you into the ideal target.

When the years began to pass, Daemon had noticed you were flourishing into a beautiful maiden. Targaryen custom dictated you were meant to be his, since you were too young to be Viserys’. There was no point in fixing your relationship, or trying to win you over like he did with the other maidens. You were a given thing. No matter your shared past, you would have to marry him.

It’s only the fact that you are embarrassing the family name that prompts him to approach you in the gardens. He has no intention of comforting you. It’s not like he cares that you are crying. Really. How ridiculous.

“What happened to you?” Daemon asks, sitting next to you. “Princess shouldn’t cry.”

It is quite recent, of course. Viserys' ascension to the throne has not actually yet occurred, but the succession issue has been settled in their favor. Daemon had gathered a small force of loyal men that hadn’t been necessary in the end, but Viserys said his first act as King would be rewarding him from his loyalty.

He knows what he will ask for already. Marriage. His grandmother had tried to marry him to a Vale woman, but the idea had ended up being discarded because Viserys’ own match ensured the allegiance of that kingdom. Daemon wanted to have his Valyrian bride before anyone, especially the Hightower cunt, got any ideas.

“Nothing.” You wipe your tears away, angrily. You scoot your cute little rear towards the edge of the tree you are sitting under. As far as you can go without losing the spot of shade.

Daemon sighs. He is used to you being difficult, but it would soon change. You would be informed of your duty and behave in a manner befitting your position in life soon enough.

“Do I need to protect your honor?” The very thought unsettles him. Three years his younger, you are still barely a maiden in his eyes. A pure, unspoiled being. The idea of someone else corrupting your innocence, something that is meant to be his, is infuriating. Daemon hates when other people touch what is his.

If anyone will corrupt you, it’s him.

You laugh, bitterly.

“If only!”

“What do you mean?” Your statement has clarified nothing. He feels more confused than before. Perhaps, you have a secret lover who refuses to take your maidenhead? Or are you suffering from unrequited love? But when? With whom? You spend nearly all your time in the library, pouring over dusty books, or on dragonback. Not much time for entertaining suitors.

You stay quiet. There is a strange expression on your face, a mix of embarrassment and sadness.

“Hāedus.” Daemon prompts, gently tugging on your braid.

“Some ladies Aemma brought were talking about knights, and kissing…” You get a fit of hiccups and nearly choke, so Daemon is forced to wipe the snot from your nose so you don’t suffocate to death. Let it not be said he is a bad brother. “They laughed at me!”

“They laughed at you?” How dare them. Only Daemon was allowed the honor of your tears. You were too important.

“No one asked to dance with me at the feast! And no knight has ever kissed me.” You pout, about to go into hysterics again. “Ever.”

“Doña hāedus…” Daemon wipes your tears, fighting his smile. He has an inkling you wouldn’t think it funny. “You shouldn’t listen to them. You are a Princess, the blood of the dragon. They are just sheep.”

You pout more. Daemon hurries to comfort you. Oddly, he dislikes seeing tears on your face. It must be because you are in public. As a Princess and his future wife, your actions reflect on House Targaryen.

“Ugly sheep. In fact, the actual sheep in the Vale are prettier.”

“But knights have kissed them! And they get asked to dance, and to walk in the gardens, and…”

Daemon raises his hand.

“Knights would kiss you too if they could. But you are too superior to them. They wouldn’t dare.” Or they would meet Dark Sister. All your first should be his. “It’s excellent that you have not sullied yourself with just any knight who looks at you.”

“But I am getting old.”

You are about to cry again. Your female vanity must be hurt, thinking yourself unwanted. Daemon will never understand caring about what others think of him. Dragons shouldn’t concern themselves with the opinion of the sheep.

But there is something about you, the soft little Princess who crumbles up completely when someone is mean to her, that tugs at his heartstrings.

It is why he leans in and captures your mouth with his. You taste like innocence and salt, melting on his tongue. It’s not Daemon’s first kiss, but it feels like it. There is a tug deep inside of him, a strange yearning on his chest, that has not been present when he has kissed other women. Not even maidens.

Cloyingly sweet, dripping on his tongue like the most enticing potion. His. Never has he experienced this before. Daemon wants to drown on it, drown in you. But before he has a chance, you give him a shove and run as fast as you can.

And he stands there, as if struck by lighting, pinned down by the unmeasurable realization that this is love. Love, in its purest form, for his soon-to-be sister wife. It leaves him dazed, confused, rooted to the spot. Utterly out of control.

“DID YOU HEAR?” The serving girl whispers loudly, her voice carrying through the corridor. Night has fallen already, and you pour over a heavy tome on constellations while sitting in one of the windowsills of the Red Keep. It is the best time to put your new knowledge into practice, but the constant chattering of the maids interrupts you.

You close your book, hesitating between scolding them and sending them away, or waiting for them to leave on their own. Scolding them feels unkind. It’s late enough for them to no longer be on duty, and there is no harm in what they are doing. This corridor is a heavily transited one.

Perhaps you should move to your rooms. But you do not have a balcony, and the view from your windowsill it’s quite limited. As you ponder on it, something they say catches your attention.

“And they say the Prince asked for a blonde girl. A maiden.” The Prince. Daemon! You have not seen hide nor hair of your older brother since he stole your first kiss. In fact, you have been avoiding him.

As children, he had played plenty of nasty tricks on you. Once, in a fit of temper, he had beheaded all your dolls and hanged their little heads from a window. But adulthood had mellowed him out. Or so you thought.

The worst thing wasn’t that Daemon stole your first kiss. It was that you enjoyed it.

“No!” The other girl sounds scandalized.

“Yes. And that is not all. He took her roughly, and was kicked out before even…”

Took a whore roughly? You knew he whored around, but hurting whores was a new low. You weren’t too approving of his behavior, but whoring was normal for young lords. Everyone knew they did it, even the most pious ones. Hurting them, though? It was no better than being a rapist.

The other girl lets out a gasp, but she sounds more delighted by the gossip than anything else.

“Imagine how rough it had to be for them to kick him out.”

“I would say plenty. Poor girl.”

“He is out again, is he not?”

“Every night, like clockwork. Something has roused his appetite, it seems. He used to whore, but not…”

Their scandalized voices drift down the corridor, and you think the rumor must be wrong. Daemon wouldn’t hurt anyone. Sure, he whored around, and took plenty of maidenheads, but your brother wasn’t cruel.

Was he?

He had stolen your first kiss. Beyond the softness and the sweetness of the kiss, Daemon had ruined a moment that was meant to be special. Now, it was forever tainted with the memory of being made a mockery of. Not only by those girls, but him too.

There was a difference between stealing a kiss and hurting whores, though. Much more, when it came to hurting them seriously enough to be kicked out of the pleasure house.

Was it your fault? Had he discovered with you he enjoyed taking from women by force? Was he taking out his anger with you on them? The maid had said the girl was blonde. Perhaps Valyrian blonde.

You needed to know. You ran to your rooms and got your black cloak, set on finding him.

Finding Daemon was no easy task. You made it to the city on foot, but once there, you had trouble locating the pleasure houses. There was no sign outwardly pointing to them, but you managed to get to Flea Bottom without getting mugged. Or at least, this looked like what you thought Flea Bottom looked like.

The streets were dirtier, the crowd rougher and drunker. There were people sleeping on the floor, no Sept in sight. This was a place far away from the Gods. The few Goldcloaks patrolling seemed uninterested in actually preventing crime.

You made sure to walk with purpose, afraid of being stopped if you looked like you were out of place. The streets were badly lit, and you could barely tell apart one alley from another.

A sudden tune caught your attention. A woman was singing in a tongue you didn’t recognize. You decided to follow her voice, but before you could do so, someone blocked your path.

“… A dragon for half an hour.” It was a woman. Her hair was dark and hanging limp around her face. She swayed as she walked. “My prince, I will let you choke me.”

You made a face, realizing a strand of your silver hair was peeking on the edge of your hood. She thought you were Daemon, you realized. Both your brother and you kept your hair long, and in the darkness of the alley, with your hood up, you may have looked alike. Was she a whore?

“I’ll let you. A dragon, please, I need to feed my children.”

Children. She had babes. You imagined them, tucked in their beds, wondering where their mother had gone. What if something happened to her? If the children had a present father, he would provide for them, and she wouldn’t be here. It was how the world worked. She must be alone with the babes.

You reached inside your cloak, and pulled out a gold dragon. There was an odd sort of pity building inside you. You imagined yourself, offering up your body to strangers to feed your children, and your heart shattered into little pieces.

You had never questioned the role of whores. They were sullied women, but they served a purpose. Entertain the men so they didn’t hurt others. Tend to their baser needs. It didn’t feel so clear-cut as you avoided the woman, in fear she might attempt to service you.

The voice sounded louder, so you ducked into the next alleyway. It was then you saw them.

The woman singing was sitting at the entrance of a small house. She was scantily clad, as were the surrounding women. But there was only one of them who caught your attention.

She was tall and willowy, with long limbs. There was a haunting elegance to her that looked out of place in the Street of Silk. Her blonde hair was long, and in the right light, could be mistaken for silver. It cascaded down her shoulders. Her face was eerily similar to your own. She was tragically beautiful, stricken by some unseen grief.

Sitting down and clapping along to the song, she looked as if she was praying. There was a dark stain on her neck, cleverly hidden by her hair. The closer you looked, the more it seemed like a bite mark. Not just any bite. A vicious one.

You gasped, hands coming to your mouth to muffle the sound. Whores had never been of concern to you, but now you were seeing their reality, and it was heartbreaking. The thought of women in brothels, in cages, as pleasure slaves, made you want to weep.

Women like you. That she wore your face was even more jarring.

WHEN CARAXES HAD been born, he had not done so alone. Out of the ether, his sister had come, hands linked with his. Meraxes, goddess of the sky, an eternity doomed to hold to her sibling. Caraxes only reflected his twin’s colors, gazing up at her as the flowers did the sun.

It was said that they met only once a day, thanks to the mercy of Gaelithox, who allowed the twins to embrace every sunset. It was the reason Meraxes hated him. He held on to her too strong, and prevented her from embracing the one who she truly loved. He invaded even her reflection, seeking to make himself a part of her, even invading her sacred reflection in the waters of her twin.

The story was always one of your favorites. You begged Viserys every night to tell it to you, sickening Daemon with your romantic tales. He isn’t sure why he is reminded of it today, of all days.

Foreboding, he will think later, when the storm has passed. But now, he chooses to focus on the coronation taking place in front of him, and bask in their triumph.

“Kings reward loyalty.” Viserys says, after the crown is placed on his head by a proud Aemma. “And my first act will be rewarding those that stood by my side.”

Daemon and you are kneeling, the first among the crowd. The first to take a knee to their King. There is a strange feeling in his throat, and he fights the urge to cry. Daemon has always considered tears a weakness, but the moment is so perfect, so magical, he feels the urge to do so.

Men don’t cry. Instead, they take big breaths, and savor their victory. Viserys on the Iron Throne, and Daemon about to be given your hand. All they have ever wanted, now ripe for the taking.

“Brother, please rise.” Viserys' voice is clear and loud. Daemon does so, pleased by the honor of being the first to rise in front of the masses. They had talked about it, of putting up a show for their political enemies, but Daemon had never expected Viserys to grant him honors before any other of his advisors. “Your diplomatic and martial skills were essential to securing my claim. As a reward, I give to you our sister’s hand, and name you my heir. May the two of you have a fruitful union and make House Targaryen proud.”

And when he turns to you, with a smile on his face, he realizes why he remembered the story of Caraxes and Meraxes.

Your beautiful, purple eyes, are wet with tears. You remain on bent knee, frozen.

Daemon pulls you up with the utmost tenderness, one reserved for family alone. The hand on your elbow seems to shake you out of your stupor.

“Thank you, my King.” Your voice trembles, but you speak the words dutifully. You know as well as him that this is Viserys’ day. Everything has to go perfectly. There can’t be any hint of division between the three of you, not when the rallying cry for Viserys had been that he was bringing back the three heads of the dragon.

Three siblings. Three dragonriders. Aegon, Visenya, Rhaenys.

“It is a great honor.” Daemon adds, tightening his grip on your arm. You look ready to bolt, and he is tasked with reminding you that you can’t.

A silent tear travels down your cheek. With your back to the crowd, no one but Viserys and Daemon can see it. Viserys gives him a long look, pleading him to do something. Neither of them had been expecting your reaction.

They had thought you would settle well into your duty. That marriage would give you a stable tether, a shield for your fragile soul. Viserys had chosen Daemon for the honor, had given you to him to care and protect.

But you seem even more scared that you were before. How wrong had they been.

“We are very excited.” Daemon hugs you to him, fighting to keep his composure. Your rejection stings, and he wants to rage, but he can’t. Because you are in public, and House Targaryen doesn’t air their dirty laundry in front of witnesses, but more importantly because your dam is breaking. You let out a little sob, and Daemon has to embrace you fully to prevent you from falling apart.

Fools that they are, the rest of the courtiers mistake it for a sound of joy. What else could you want? To marry the King’s heir, a Valyrian husband who can give you pure Valyrian babes.

“Good.” Viserys smiles, a bit strained. You take a shuddery breath, and straighten up under his arm. Daemon can practically feel the change, from scared girl, to experienced courtier. You know as well as he does the importance of presenting a united front.

You smile. It’s as fake as the silks whores wear, when pretending to be a Targaryen Princess. To the inexperienced masses, it tears all the same.

“How joyful days come ahead. Long live the King!”

You open your arms, the picture of the hopeful bride. The smile threatens to crack your face in two. The crowd cheers. A royal wedding is always something to admire, and there is no better way of celebrating a coronation than with one.

The hour is late when Daemon finally manages to catch Viserys alone. You have gone straight to your rooms after the feast, sulking. Aemma has been sat outside your door for hours by now, trying to coax you out like one would do to a skittish cat. Her talks of duty and royal wombs only got her a pillow to the face for her efforts.

Daemon and Viserys, much more used to your moods, hadn’t bothered. You were angry, but not hysterical. Both often manifested in tears in your case. Only one could prove lethal.

“I do not understand.” Viserys frowns. “What more can she want? The two of you will get Dragonstone, for a few years at least, and when I have an heir, you will not be kicked out. You are family.”

“I do not understand it either.” Underneath the simmering rage Daemon feels, there is only confusion. He is a knight, and has proven his skills sufficiently enough to be awarded Dark Sister. He is of an equal standing to you, a Prince to a Princess. He loves you so deeply it scares him.

The Seven know he has tried to get you out of his head through every means possible. He has deflowered more maidens that he can count this week alone, his cock is chafed raw, and yet, no matter how beautiful they are, your face still haunts him. It’s your name on his lips when he comes, and your body he pictures under him. The whores are never right. Their hair is the wrong shade, they are too thin or too fat, their tears taste of iron instead of your sweet salt.

You should not think it is a bad thing. Women love that sort of thing, leading men by their cocks, getting them so cuntstruck they cannot see straight. You should love it too because it is a weakness to him, but a power you can wield. And yet, you hate it. You had run.

“I cannot go back on my word now.” Viserys reaches for his cup of wine. He knows that his reign is still fragile, and if his lords see his sister defying him, they might get ideas. “She has to marry someone, and with her delicate constitution, I cannot in good conscience…”

“Handing her to a stranger is a bad idea.” Daemon agrees, not out of some selfish motivation, but because he knows it’s the truth. You have always been far more delicate than most ladies, with your books and silly ideas about the role women should play. Had you not been so closely tied to Viserys, you may have even supported Rhaenys.

If Viserys was Aegon, you were Rhaenys. The sensitive little sister, loved because of her innocence and kindness. You never tried to push your strange ideas, after all. You just looked like a kicked puppy when contradicted.

Any other man would crush you at the first hint of defiance. Daemon, used to you as he was, knew rage was futile. If you wouldn’t settle in your duties easily, he had to take action and ensure you did through other means.

Gentler means. Daemon still remembered the fits you used to have when little. Viserys did too. Neither wanted a repetition.

“I have thought about it, and you should forgo the bedding.”

“I agree. It might make her sick.” Sick is the euphemism they use for your fits when there are prying ears. Daemon gives a pointed glance at the guards. Viserys drops the topic after that.

Almost against his will, when the embers of the fire they sit in front of die, Daemon goes to your rooms. He isn’t really thinking, when he walks down the hallways that lead to your chambers instead of his. Nor is he thinking when he dismisses your guards, and opens your door.

You are laying on your side, a pillow held to your thighs. Your hands are made into fists over them, as if you had fallen asleep in your rage still. Despite it, your face is peaceful, with only dried tear tracks to disturb your childish expression.

Your body is curled into itself, tightly. You must be cold, Daemon thinks, and takes of his cloak to lay it over your form.

In dreams, you smile. And Daemon understands that he is no Gaelithox. There was a reason Caraxes and Meraxes were only allowed to embrace once a day, after all.

HORROR AND RAGE are not emotions that lend itself to permanence. At least, not in you. Not when it comes to him.

Not when he plays such strange game, and gets you strange prizes. Daemon has not asked for his cloak back. You have taken to sleeping wrapped up underneath it.

How can a man capable of such cruelty be capable of such tenderness? Confusion means ignorance, and ignorance breeds fear. You have known Daemon all your life, but you are still unable to understand him.

The only certainty you have is that when he is near, your rationality flies out of the window. It’s all instinctual. To fight, to fuck, to fucking fight.

The sleep of reason produces monsters. Monsters that take hold of your heart and squeeze it, until it is no more than liquid and pulp. Did he hurt that woman? Will he hurt you? Love you?

Daemon had stolen your first kiss. Daemon had gotten kicked out of a brothel. There was a girl in the Street of Silk with a bite mark on her neck. He had visited you the night of your betrothal and tucked you in.

It might mean nothing. It might mean everything. Whichever it is, you have no time to come to terms with it. Viserys wishes for the two of you to be married by the end of this moon. It makes you feel even more blindsided and betrayed.

None of them had thought to ask you before deciding. They had just done so.

The idea of marrying your brother wasn’t what came as a great shock. As a child, you had often daydreamed of honoring your ancestors and becoming your brother’s wife. It was the way things should be. But you had always thought you would marry Viserys.

When Viserys married Aemma, you thought you would marry someone outside your household. Daemon and you were clearly ill-suited, even before everything that had happened between the two of you.

Betrothing the two of you would be madness. You had never understood each other in the manner Viserys and him did. You were an outsider to their relationship, the other head of the dragon. Rhaenys to her conquerors.

But inexplicably, Viserys had done so. Being betrothed to him without even being asked about it stung. No one had thought to warn you, or ask for your opinion. They had simply announced it to court and hoped you would comply.

The feeling of betrayal had only mellowed out after asking Viserys his reasoning. He hadn’t been trying to blindside you, he had explained. He had thought you would be happy. Both Daemon and you yearned for Valyrian partners. It made sense to betroth the two of you, especially because Daemon had asked to marry soon.

Your brothers were just dumb. But their foolishness was a dangerous one, since they rode the two biggest dragons of your generation and sat on the Iron Throne. Common fools could undo the damage they caused.

But in your case, there was no way out but through. Viserys had begged you to give Daemon a chance, and so, you found yourself preparing for meeting him.

Viserys had chosen the place the two of you would meet. The Godswood was neutral territory, and far away from the castle that if you started shouting insults at each other, only the Kingsguard shadowing you would hear.

It only made you dread the encounter further. You had taken a liking to the Godswood, and were contemplating using it as a hideaway for when things at court got to be too much. If this went wrong, it would forever taint the place for you.

You decide to arrive early, to allow yourself some time to compose yourself. Daemon beats you to it, already waiting near a tree when you get there.

“Hāedus,” Daemon says, when he sees you. In a show of rebellion, you have decided to wear your more modest gown, with a neckline that nearly reaches your ears. Aemma had encouraged you to wear something more revealing, but you wanted to strangle the cow. “You look lovely.”

“Lēkia.” You press a kiss to his cheek, unsure if you should greet him like you always do, or the betrothal has changed the protocol. Kissing his cheek as you always do seems safer, but you regret it when his eyes flutter closed at your touch.

He is acting odder than usual. In an increasingly out-of-character charm offensive, he takes off his cloak and places it on the grass.

“So you may sit.” His tone is too formal. It makes you even more wary, but you sit. Daemon does the same, by your side. So close, you end up frowning more.

He leans in. His lips brush the shell of your ear.

“Despite my struggles, I have come to admire you.” Daemon noses along the hair right above your ear. “Rationality has left me, and no matter how hard I try, you haunt me at every corner, every hallway, every street of this damned city.”

“What am I supposed to say?” You complain, with a frown. You push him a little, to be able to meet his eyes.“I am well aware of your attempts at forgetting. Valyrian whores, Daemon? Really?”

“It was all in vain.” He pulls you back in, embracing you. His hands are warm around your stomach, his lips chafed against the skin of your neck. “Let me take down your hair.”

Your eyebrows raise. Out of all things he can ask for, this is the weirdest one. His petition is so simple and innocent, you almost think he is not Daemon.

“Let me take down your hair.” Daemon begs. The ardent tone in his voices surprises you. He sounds like a man possessed. As if he cannot survive if you deny him. “Hāedus...”

This devotion, this unexpected fit of love, surprises you. So much, you find yourself nodding.

You feel his chest contract with his sudden inhale. His hands are careful as they unmake your braid. His touch so tender, even the most delicate hairdresser would envy it. But when your hair falls down your back, in mussed tendrils, he shows himself to be Daemon.

His nose presses to your temple, breathing you in. His fingers run through your hair, and he presses feverish kisses to your scalp, your jaw, your ear. Licks the sweat behind it, samples your earlobe with his teeth.

Teeth. It makes you tense. You think of the girl in Flea Bottom, of the bite over her throat.

“I can’t stop thinking of you. You appear before me in the darkest corners, and in the brightest meadows.” Daemon inhales, hands grasping your waist tightly. “When I squired, away from home, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I didn’t know it was love then, but I have loved you since before I knew what the word meant. I fucked the tightest cunts of Westeros, sampled the prettiest maidens, and yet it is your face that I imagine when tugging at my cock.”

Something inside you snaps. Among the righteous indignation, a strange satisfaction takes place. You shove him off you.

“Don’t be crass!”

Daemon doesn’t attempt to embrace you again, but remains unbearably close. Your eyes drift to his lips. You would love him even if he were the one who mauled the whore. You would love him even if he did it to you. Because of it, perhaps.

“I want you to be mine. Put me out of my misery.” Daemon begs, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Marry me, and end my suffering.”

“You frighten me.” You whisper, without quite meaning to.

“Do you fear I will hurt you?” Daemon asks you, voice very gentle.

You avert your eyes. It’s not that what you fear. It’s how out of control you are when it comes to him.

“I would never.” He vows, leaning in. His lips brush against yours, before Daemon presses his forehead to yours. He looks into your eyes, and smiles. “Do you remember the last time we kissed?”

“Of course I do, you idiot.” You scowl at the memory. “You stole…”

“No. You were crying because no knight…” He gets up, and begins to tug you to your feet. You remain sitting. “Oh, get up, you stubborn thing.”

“Daemon!” You complain, but get up. He stands a few feet away from you. Curious about the point he intends to make, you cross your arms over your chest and glare.

He offers you his hand, as if to dance. You take it, eyes full of distrust.

“I have been a cunt. But you have to stop running.” Daemon circles you, pulling on your hand slightly. Is he…? Your confusion must show on your face because he gives you a mocking glance. “To dance from afar is not to dance.”

“What do you mean?”

“You might as well be in Essos.” Daemon keeps circling you. “Let us dance properly, for once.”

“Here? Dance?” There is no music. And your brother has never been one for bursting into spontaneous song and dance. At least, you don’t think so.

“Together. You wanted knights to ask you to.” Daemon pulls you close, into a hug, and the puzzle pieces finally fit. The day he had kissed you, you had been crying because no one had asked you to dance. That Daemon remembers the reason when you had nearly forgotten it yourself astonishes you. “Now a Prince asks you. Do not make me ask twice, please.”

“Let us try. To dance as if glued by fire. Let me prove I can be good to you. That I listen to you. ”

And it’s stupid. It’s silly, there is not even music. But you let him pull you in, this time, and realize Daemon has always been capable of tenderness. At least, when it comes to you.

[bet-on-me-13]

Misunderstandings really really suck

Edit: Part 2 is Up

So heres the deal, it's a normal Vivisection AU where Danny had to run away to Gotham after his parents try to kill him, and let's say that he takes Ellie with him too.

They stay there for a few years and after a while they manage to establish a little life for themselves. Danny is running a small Shop that makes them enough money to live comfortably in the apartment right above his Shop, meanwhile Ellie is going to Gotham Metro Academy on a scholarship because she is really smart and they managed to fake some school records for her when they were making themselves new Identities.

(Side Note: Danny is now 26, while Ellie hasn't started aging yet and still looks 12, but she will begin to soon since she just hit her 12th birthday)

Danny also runs a small Ghost Shop out of his store, just selling small bits of Distilled Ectoplasm or Ecto-Infused Treats to the local Ghosts in return for small favors or help around the shop.

But here's the thing. Ellie is still an unstable Clone, even if they did managed to find a reliable treatment in the form of Ecto-Dejecto. But Danny's parents were the only ones who knew how to make that stuff, and the Ecto-Dejecto they stole all those years ago is beginning to run out.

Danny begins to work tirelessly trying to replicate it, diving full on into his Mad Scientist side to try and find a way to make more ED for Ellie. He manages to make some prototypes, but he is nowhere near confident that they are good enough.

He decides to call in some favors from the local Ghosts. He calls the ones he is confident will survive this and asks them to try out his Ecto Dejecto to see if it will work for Ellie, but he does warn them that there will probably be unexpected side effects that they will probably not like.

The Ghosts agree to do it, because in the years that the Fenton's have lived there they have grown extremely attached to Ellie. She is like a little sister or daughter for many of them, they would throw away their afterlives if it meant helping her.

For most of the samples, the ED doesn't work at all. Some of them work for a single moment before cutting out, others don't do anything, and some have crazy effects that affect them for a little while before disappearing abruptly. One guy turned into a Dog, not the worst outcome but not the intended one. Another began to glow brightly and couldn't turn it off, that one lasted for an hour.

They keep testing them, out in the nearby Alley since they don't want to destroy the house or Danny's makeshift Lab, for a few weeks.

They problem comes when they are spotted one night by Red Hood.

...

Jason was crossing the Rooftops while on Patrol. He was going a little farther than his normal patrol range, since he had the time and he wanted to make sure there was no trouble in the nearby areas either.

As he was about to hop from one rooftop to another, he got a weird feeling. It was strange, he didn't feel anything on his skin, he didn't smell anything, he didn't even hear anything, but he somehow knew that there was something strange happening in the nearby Alley. It was like he could sense it.

Peeking over the edge of the rooftop, he saw a group of about 10 people. It was a bunch of strange looking people with green-ish skin, and one normal looking person. The normal looking one was wearing a lab coat, and seemed to be about 25 yrs old. Jason felt like there was something off about that guy, but he couldn't place exactly what. He was holding a box of something in his hand, and talking to the group.

"Ok guys, I'm really confident this time!" He said, "I think one of these may be the one!"

The man placed the box on a nearby Dumpster and opened it up, taking out a strange glowing green Vial. He handed it to one of the Greenish people and watched as they injected themselves with it.

Jason watched as they began to glow slightly before their arms suddenly grew to be longer than they were tall. The Man in the Lab Coat sighed in discontent, before saying "Ok, not that one. But we still have a few to try out!"

Jason watched as one by one the people below injected themselves with the green Liquid, each of them having some strange phenomenon happen to them before moving on to the next. The strange thing was that none of them seemed to be concerned with the changes, just commenting on it felt before moving on.

Finally, they got to the last person in line. As they injected themselves, Jason felt a sense of Anticipation well up in his gut. He didn't know why, but he felt like this was going to he important.

He was proven right as the Man who had injected himself began to glow brightly. Jason was overwhelmed with the sense of Pure Power coming from him. It was intense, he didn't know how, but he could actually feel the man begin to grow stronger and stronger. The feeling was nearly suffocating, but he managed to regain his senses long enough to hear Lab Coat laugh maniacally. He looked over to see that the entire group was enthusiastically high-fiving and fist-bumping eachother, all cheering at the success.

"Hahaha! Yes! Finally!" Labcoat Cheered, "It's done! Once I make some more, we'll be able to-"

The overwhelming power suddenly cut out. It was so abrupt that even the people below didn't speak for some time. They all just stood on slight shock before Labcoat spoke up, "Ok...ok this is fine. All I need to do is take that formula and find a way to make the effect Permanent. After that we're all set." He said, a thoughtful expression on his face, "I think we'll be good to go within a Week!"

The group of people muttered in agreement, and Labcoat thanked them all for a bit before they all began to walk away. It seemed like the meeting was over.

Jason took a moment to collect himself, before deciding to follow some of the group so he could question them. Unfortunately, everybody he followed disappeared into thin air after a short time.

It occurred to him that he hadn't tried to intervene at all. Usually he would have jumped down and beaten them all black and blue for testing drugs right in front of him, but he didn't this time. Why? He also realized that he should have followed the Lab Coat guy first, not waited until it was his last option. Why did he not go after that guy instantly? Why did he hesitate? Was it something to do with that Ominous Feeling that led him to the meeting in the first place? There was just something about the guy that made Jason feel inexplicably sacred of him.

Either way, he needed to tell the others.

Because from what he had seen, a Mad Scientist had been working with a group of Metahumans to create a Super Soldier Drug right there in Gotham, and they needed to stop them.

[pupyuj]

We also need more G!P babysitter Yujin bcs she's such a milf lover I NEED MORE-

completely disregarding my old babysitter yuj drabble (which got so many notes btw??? like omg i didn’t know ya’ll fw milf!reader like that!) just in case people think this one is related to it 😭

okay so what if this time… single mom!reader hires the struggling, near-broke college senior ahn yujin who is just looking for a quick way to earn money and not completely live off instant noodles for at least a week? 😭🙏 you hire her on the day you interviewed her bcs that adorable purity really just made your heart melt and for a while it was innocent between the two of you! getting yujin to be your kid’s babysitter was a brilliant idea bcs she got along with the kid so well and not to mention that she also wasn’t too bad to hang out with whenever it was the kid’s nap time and the two of you were left alone 🥰

ofc you were the one who makes the first move 🤭 one night, you had a bit too much wine and while you sure can hold your alcohol, the influence was still there and you were all over poor flustered yujin 🥰🥰 the kid was going to her other parent’s house for the weekend so you had no problem being all touchy-feely with yujin, who was obviously strong enough to just push you away and run the fuck out of the house but why would she do that??? yujinnie wanted you so bad! she has for the longest time now 🥺 this was practically a dream come to true to her: having the hottest milf in the city on her knees, unzipping her pants and cupping her bulge… shit, if yujin was still a stupid virgin she probably would’ve cum right there! 🥴

she'd be so excited to get some action though... the life of a college student was not at all fun and what better way to relieve her of all that stress than sucking her off? 🥰 she’s eager to cum but she’s not in any position to try and speed you up as you slowly ease your mouth on her length… slightly gagging due to her thickness but succeeding in taking all of her in nonetheless.. yujin swears something primal unlocks inside of her once your nose touched her pelvis, but feeling your tongue swipe across her slit completely renders her useless on that couch.. helplessly moaning and whining in the air as she stared pathetically down at you 🥺

poor baby feeling so overwhelmingly good that she isn’t even aware of how loud she’s being!! no doubt that the nearest neighbors know what you’re doing now.. and yujin only gets louder the closer she gets to her climax, putting her head on top of your head to weakly support you… so cute, honestly 💕 screams “mommy… mommy!” as she cums bcs she just couldn’t help it!! 🥰🥰 she gets shocked to see you gulping up her cum like water on a hot summer day but like… she needs to see more of that 😳

barely processes anything as you drag her upstairs to your bedroom but then that inner pervert of her becomes wide awake once you took your nightgown off… grabbing you by the hips and making you ride her all night long 🤤🤤

[whateverloomis]

Lick me like a lollipop (Part 2) ✒︎ Billy Loomis x AFAB reader

Warnings: SMUT, Food play (lollipop), oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, desperate behavior, freaky Billy (lol), AFAB reader, unedited.

Readers POV | Word count: 1.2k

Note: Thank you for all the love on part 1 <33 Here's a little extra action to finish everything off ;)

-

After the movie night at Stu's place, I drove to my house, and to my surprise my parents weren't home. It was always a relief when they weren't around because I could get some much needed alone time. Being a college student and not being able to afford a place of my own was draining, so any second I could get away from them felt almost like heaven.

I took a much needed shower and decided to put on one of my oversized t-shirts with a black thong before going to bed to continue reading "The Shinning". Easing into the book, my concentration was centered on every single word, and my imagination ran wild.

As I was approaching the end of the chapter, I got distracted by the sound of something falling outside my window. It scared me momentarily, but then I remembered Billy's last words at Stu's house... "Leave your window open tonight, we're not done here."

My heart started to race from excitement. I couldn't believe I got him so worked up just by sucking a few lollipops in front of him, and it was oh so sweet knowing that I did.

A shadow appeared behind the curtains and when I stood up to open them Billy was half way in my room already. I gasped at his sudden proximity then smirked at him when I noticed how desperate he looked.

"I thought you'd change your mind half way to your house, since y'know, it's 1am." I said while looking at the clock on my nightstand.

"We both know that wasn't going to happen." Billy answered. His voice was quiet and soft. He took a step towards me and looked into my eyes, scanning my face. "Are we alone in the house?" He asked, and I placed my hand on his chest, grabbing his shirt and pulling him towards me into a kiss. My answer was pretty clear then and there. He continued kissing me and wasted no time in playing with his tongue inside my mouth, brushing it against mine from time to time.

As we continued kissing, I pulled Billy closer to me and he laid me down on my soft bed, hovering over me. He ran his large hands all over my body, squeezing and rubbing everywhere.

"You got me so worked up at Stu's house... God, it's been too long." Billy said and I chuckled at his admission. It had only been a week since we fooled around behind our friends backs, but the more we did it the more desperate the man got. I couldn't help but love every second of it, even if guilt got in the way after every heated moment.

Billy slid his hand up my shirt and started to play with my tits, squeezing them softly and pinching my nipples lightly. His movements were delicate, but it was just enough to send jolts of pleasure between my legs. I couldn't help but rub myself against his thigh and release little whimpers of desperation. I would've begged for him to touch me where I most needed it, but the pulsing and wetness developing between my thighs was too deliciously torturing to give in to my needs. That, and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had total control over me, even though he most likely already knew.

Finally, he slid his hand down between my legs and rubbed his index finger over my soaked underwear. "I've barely touched you and you're this worked up for me already?" He asked teasingly and pulled my panties to the side, giving him access to my needy cunt. Without warning, he inserted his middle and ring finger inside my soaked hole and I moaned in an almost pornographic way which drove Billy crazy. "Fuuuck, baby..." He moaned along with me.

The man continued pumping his fingers inside me and rubbing my clit with his thumb slowly, working me up even more. I was panting and moaning pathetically. The pleasure washed all over my body and I was starting to feel my orgasm approaching. Billy noticed and pulled his hand away from my cunt, sucking his fingers clean. "Not yet baby, let me taste you first..." He whispered loud enough for me to hear him.

Billy positioned himself between my legs and looked at me from beneath. Before he continued touching me he reached into his back pocket and pulled out, a lollipop? He began sucking on it casually and even if I was confused at his random actions I couldn't help but get more turned on with it.

"Dare I ask?" I said and he chuckled but didn't answer with words. Instead, he ran the lollipop from my clit to my entrance. The smooth, sugary bulb felt surprisingly good as he rubbed my cunt with it. Suddenly, I felt Billy's tongue lick a stripe along my slit, tasting the sweetness that the lollipop left behind. I moaned at the sight sensations he was creating. I had never felt pleasure quite like that before and I couldn't get enough.

Billy continued to rub me with the candy, devouring me as if I were his favorite desert. Suddenly, I felt him slide the lollipop inside me while flicking his tongue against my clit. He was fucking me with a freaking lollipop and I was practically dripping on my bed sheets. If there was anyone in this world who was creative in bed, it was Billy Loomis. His sinful actions turned me the fuck on and I couldn't even try to make sense of anything at that point because before I expected it I came against his mouth and around the sugary bulb. Billy moaned along with me while I rode my high and didn't stop eating me out for one second. He pulled the lollipop out of me and tossed it in the trash can behind him but never disconnected his mouth from my cunt. He was overstimulating me.

"Fuck! Billy, it's too much!" I moaned loudly, but he didn't stop.

After a few more seconds of delicious torture, he finally stopped and crawled over me, unzipping his pants and pulling them down just enough to free his leaking cock, pushing it inside me. My cunt swallowed up all his length and he hissed at the feeling. He just wanted to get off at that point. He was so worked up. He wasn't going to last more than five minutes. Billy lifted my legs over his shoulders to penetrate deeper into my cunt and it felt so overwhelmingly good that I couldn't help but start crying and moaning uncontrollably until I squirted all over the bed. "Oh fuck... Fuck!" Billy moaned loudly at the sight, and soon after came inside me. Thrusting roughly a couple of times, he pulled out, placing his forehead against mine.

"I missed this cunt" He said, lightly tapping my clit. I shuddered in response and bit my lip, pulling his hair and moving his head towards me so I could kiss him.

"You're a fucking freak, Loomis." I said jokingly and he smirked at me. "You're the one that came around a lollipop, not me." He responded and laughed before I smacked his shoulder playfully.

Idiot.

[rs-hawk]

Another version of Bestie’s Werewolf Brother where you two have fallen out of contact for years and when he finds out you’re having a baby with someone else because you start being friends with his sister again and he gets really possessive and starts stalking you again. He finds out you’re a single mom and suddenly he realizes he just wants a baby with you even if it’s not his pup 🥺❣️Mostly fluff plz but I’d love some smut too

Not you bringing out this trope when I literally posted it’s my fave. Lol. No smut all fluff but I might do more with this if y’all like it 🥰

When you got pregnant your boyfriend acted like he was happy. He lavished you in compliments and told everyone how excited he was to be starting a family with you. Your childhood bestie and you even reconnected, her excited about baby names and planning your baby shower. It’s like you picked up right where you left off.

When you ask about her brother, she’s obviously uncomfortable. She comes up with all kinds of excuses about why he doesn’t want to talk to you, or why he seemed to have just vanished off social media recently. You can’t help but feeling hurt but you keep it to yourself.

When you catch your boyfriend cheating on you, you end up packing up all your stuff in a night and moving back in with your parents. It sucks. You can’t help but feel like a failure. You start going for walks more at the local park, just trying anything to keep your mind off your predicament.

“Hey,” you heard a familiar voice say from behind you.

You didn’t know that he had already been stalking you for months. Ever since he found out you were pregnant. He thought he could get past it, get past you, but hearing that you had been with someone else drove him crazy. He wanted to be angry with you. To hate you, even, and that other man’s baby, but the longer he stalked you, the more he realized how much he missed you. How he just wanted to be around you again.

“Hi,” you said as you turned around, awkwardly holding your arms in front of your stomach. You knew he knew, but you couldn’t help but wish this wasn’t the first time he was seeing you after all these years.

“It looks like you’re doing well.”

You shrugged, moving your arms and shoving your hands in your pockets. “I guess.”

“My sister said you’re… getting engaged,” he managed to get out without growling.

“We were, but some stuff happened. I’m living back at home until I can find a place.”

He knew he shouldn’t be happy, but he was. After that, he started offering to help you with everything. Need someone to drive you to an OBGYN appointment? Needed help putting the bassinet together? Couldn’t figure out which kind of car seat to get? He was always there and offering to help.

You were surprised, pleasantly so. You’d never thought much about it, but you didn’t think that he would be so involved in your pregnancy when 1) you weren’t dating and 2) it wasn’t his baby. As the weeks passed, he started asking to touch your stomach when he saw movement. He came to your parents’ house all hours of the day if you even hinted that you wanted to see him or if you wanted something.

When you went into labor, your mother took you, much to his disappointment. He came to visit you of course, but he seemed a little off when he came in. His head was down, and he wasn’t nearly as imposing as he normally was, especially considering he was mostly shifted. Then a nurse came back in with the baby after giving a bath.

“Oh! Here’s Dad,” she smiled as she placed the small bundle in his arms, though she did admittedly look a little uneasy.

You started to correct her, but he just started at the little one in his arms with wide eyes. You’d never seen him be so gentle. His ears were perked up, and you couldn’t help but notice his tail started to wag. He shushed you mid-sentence as you tried telling the nurse he wasn’t the dad.

“Human babies are so tiny,” he whispered, rocking the baby in his arms.

The nurse looked between you before slipping out. He stayed almost the entire time you were in the hospital. Even your parents left more often than him. While he was attentive to you, he was even more attentive to the baby. Asking the nurses to show him how to swaddle. Reading up on when human babies can eat solid food (because it’s just a couple months for pups).

He’s the one that took you home. Your parents are excited when they see his car pull up and you’re admittedly a little confused. When you get inside, you see that he took it upon himself to baby proof everything. He put together an entire nursery when you were just going to have the baby sleep in your room in the bassinet. He even sprung to get a crib since he had read online that infants can only be in bassinets for a few months.

That’s when you realize that he really is the best for you. He’s always been the best for you, and he’s the best for your baby too. The baby fell asleep in his arms before he settled the tiny bundle into the crib. Tears pricked your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his back, burying your face in his shoulder.

“You’ll stay, right?”

A low rumble in his chest vibrated your body when he spun around, grabbing you up in his arms. “I’ll never leave again.”

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 39 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It's not hard for Bradley to convince you to buy a formal dress. He also easily gets you to stop referring to the house as only his. But his behavior after the three of you return from the lake house might not be something you're willing to deal with.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, spanking, pregnancy talk, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley had to laugh, because while the Christmas in July fake birthday party all weekend long had been great, he and Maverick were the ones stuck cleaning up the decorations. 

"They really left us here, huh?"

"Yeah, Mav," Bradley replied. "They really left us here to clean up while they took Noah out for breakfast." But he didn't mind. You told him it would give him a chance to talk to his dad's best friend for a few minutes. 

When Bradley started to disassemble the Christmas tree, Mav asked him, "Are you planning on going to Warlock's retirement thing?"

"Retirement thing?" Bradley asked.

"Yeah. The surprise party. I keep forgetting about it." When Bradley's brow scrunched in confusion, the other man waved his hand. "You'll get an invitation this week. Most of Top Gun is invited."

Bradley felt for a second like he'd finally reached the upper echelon of work related events, because if he did in fact manage to get an invitation to an Admiral's retirement party, it was going to be swanky. "Black tie?"

"Oh yeah," Mav replied as he packed up strand after strand of lights. "Just wear your dress whites."

But that wasn't what Bradley was concerned about. If you needed to wear a formal gown, then you'd need to use your princess credit card. And he didn't want you balking at the price of a dress. He wanted you to go out and find something you wanted to wear for the night, and he didn't want to argue with you about the money. He had plenty of it; that was the downside to losing your parents when you were young and inheriting both of their life insurance policies. 

"Yeah, I can just wear my dress whites," Bradley replied as he decided perhaps you'd respond better to picking out a dress if he promised to spank you afterwards.

Once Bradley shoved the Christmas tree back into the closet, he could hear you pull the Bronco back into the driveway. Maverick handed him a beer, and he was sipping it when you walked in and headed right for him. "Daddy," you whispered, kissing his cheek. Amelia walked in holding hands with Noah, and Penny brought up the rear.

"We brought you some muffins," Penny said, shaking a white bag at Bradley. 

"Thanks," he replied before leaning down closer to you. He could practically still feel the tug of your fingers in his hair as he made love to you last night, once again with his hand over your mouth. "I actually like it better when you make breakfast for us at home," he said softly, just for you. "Did you have a nice time?"

You just shrugged. "The food was good, but the coffee sucked. I miss the French vanilla coffee you bring home for me sometimes."

"In the special Princess cups?"

You practically moaned for him. "I love it when you stop and get me coffee. Do you have any idea how hard I was crushing on you when you would bring that home with you on days when I was babysitting Noah? Or when you started buying French vanilla creamer for your house for me?"

Bradley eyed everyone else out on the back deck while he took a sip of the beer he was still holding and wrapped his arm a little tighter around you. "Tell me, Princess. Remind me. How hard were you crushing on me?"

Your lips met his neck, and sure enough, your fingers went to his hair. He stood there feeling kind of smug as you kissed him and murmured, "Couldn't stop thinking about you. I was so jealous of every girl you went out with. I wanted you to touch me so badly."

Bradley backed you up against the wall and pressed his body to yours. "I knew from the beginning I was wasting my time with them when you were at home."

You let your head tip back against the wall, and he leaned down to kiss you. "Well I'm always at your house now." You hooked your fingers through his belt loops and grinned. "I can't wait to make myself a latte from your fancy coffee maker tomorrow before work. The coffee is better from your kitchen."

Bradley froze with his palm pressed to the wall next to your head and your pretty eyes on him. "Baby, it's our house now."

Your eyes fluttered closed as you whispered, "Our house," like it was your fairy tale castle instead of a Coronado bungalow. Like he really was your knight. 

"Hey," he rasped, waiting until your eyes were open again. He ran his fingers along your cheek. "I love you. So fucking much. But I won't spank you ever again if you call it my house. You understand?"

"Daddy," you gasped as he pulled himself away from you and finished his beer with a smirk. Your eyes narrowed, and he should have been alarmed by your smirk that matched his. "If you don't promise to spank me when we get home tonight, I'll paint your entire house beige. And I'll stop buying salad dressing. And I'll go down to the lake right now and catch a pet fish for Noah."

"Fuck," he gasped, actually feeling a little panicky before you and he burst into laughter together. "Damn, you're good. And you know I'll give you whatever you want. But you've got to give me what I want, too. Call it our house."

You pecked his cheek and said, "Let me start packing so we can leave for our house in a few hours."

"That's more like it," he replied as he went to join everyone else on the deck.

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

You offered to drive, but Bradley told you to relax instead. You and Noah both ended up yawning fifteen minutes into the ride back to San Diego, and then you were both falling asleep. While Noah actually needed the afternoon nap so he wasn't cranky later, you just wanted to enjoy the feel of the warm sunshine on your face and Bradley's hand in yours. 

You were using his address as your own for work, and all of your mail was being sent there. Your stuff was in virtually every room, but there were still times that it felt like his and Noah's space. The new bed helped you feel more comfortable, and obviously Bradley let you do whatever you wanted throughout the house. But he was right; it was time you started to take ownership. That was your bungalow now with the snag in the living room rug and the crack along the driveway just as much as it was his. You dozed off thinking about the internet tabs open on his phone as he rubbed your left ring finger. 

Once again, Bradley had to wake you up when you arrived. He kissed you softly until your eyes opened to the afternoon sun. "We're home," he whispered. 

"Our house," you mumbled as you sat up straight and stretched. 

"Our house," he echoed. And then your heart melted as he asked, "Do you want to take our son inside while I carry in all of our shit?"

You smiled and turned to see that Noah was just waking up as well. "Yeah, I'll take our son inside." It was the most natural thing you could have said as you pecked Bradley's lips and climbed out onto the driveway.

"Mommy," Noah whined as you unbuckled him. "I have to pee." 

"Keys!" you shouted to Bradley where he was already unloading the back of the Bronco, and he tossed them to you. As quickly as you could, you hauled Noah up to the front porch and got him into the bathroom without incident. "You feel better?" you asked, and he nodded at you.

"Yeah. Mostly because there were no bears at the lake."

You had to stifle your laughter. This child was the sweetest thing you'd ever encountered in your life. "Told you that Daddy wasn't lying about the bears. What was your favorite part of the weekend?" you asked as you helped him wash his hands. 

"The worms."

Once again, you wanted to laugh, because you didn't even need to leave the backyard to find worms, let alone drive hours away to an enormous lake. "Don't tell Daddy that," you mumbled as you walked out of the bathroom to see Bradley dumping bags and boxes in the hallway.

"I think we overpacked," he said as he headed outside for more. "If we go on another family vacation, I'm supervising the packing, because now I know you can't be trusted with it."

"When we go on another family vacation," you called after him. You rolled your eyes and headed to the kitchen to start making spaghetti for dinner. Then you grinned as you set Noah up with a coloring book at the table. You kissed his soft hair and said, "Don't forget to remind your dad that you still want a dog, okay?"

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

When Bradley took a minute to actually sort through the mail from Friday, he found the invitation to Admiral Bates' retirement party. A black tie formal at the San Diego Botanic Gardens. It was in less than two weeks, and his wife wanted it to be a surprise for him. Bradley would have to get his dress whites dry cleaned before then, but it would be harder to convince you to buy a gown. If you even wanted to go with him. 

At the moment, you were reading a bedtime story on Noah's floor and teaching him how to sound out the words. God, Bradley was fucking obsessed with how patient and sweet you were. Noah was snuggled up in your lap, looking at the book and saying the word castle when Bradley walked in. Wordlessly, he sat on the edge of Noah's bed and watched his son work through all the words on the page with your help. 

Maybe you'd get pregnant right away. Bradley didn't know if he'd be able to handle the excitement. He could spend a weekend getting the other bedroom set up as a nursery when it was time. When Meredith was pregnant, she only took him to one ultrasound appointment, but this time, if it happened, he'd beg you to let him go to all of them. Or as many as he could if he wasn't deployed. 

"Daddy?" you asked, handing Noah up to him. 

Bradley was shaken from his very pleasant thoughts by his son in his arms. He smiled and kissed Noah while he yawned before turning and getting him tucked in. "I still want a dog," Noah mumbled as he rolled onto his side, and Bradley shot you a dirty look. 

"What?" you asked innocently as you abruptly stood and headed for the door. You were off down the hallway, running to yours and his bedroom, but Bradley was right on your tail. 

He caught you in his arms as you laughed. "You know, all you've done since you got here is completely wreck our routine," he growled next to your ear as he held you tight. "You've literally destroyed our former way of life."

"What?" you gasped, trying to look up at him.

"You heard me," he whispered, kissing your hair. "You've got Noah reading books and eating homemade meals. You've turned me into a complete fucking mess with your glossy lips and your smile and your little dresses. And you have absolutely no regard for the fact that I get an erection whenever I smell wildflowers." 

You were all giggles now as he carried you to the bed. "It's your fault for being such a Daddy," you whispered with a grin. 

He set you down, and you lounged back against the pillows, your dress resting high on your thighs. Then he pulled the folded up invitation out of his back pocket and handed it to you as he climbed in bed too. "You wanna go with me?" he asked as you read it.

When your eyes darted up to meet his, you whispered, "I've never been to a black tie event before."

"Then you'll need a dress. Where's your phone?"

You bit your lip. "In the kitchen."

"Use mine," he replied, unlocking it and handing it to you with a new internet tab all ready for you to start shopping. "Order some dresses. And go to the mall after work one day this week if you want."

You took his phone but hesitantly said, "If I'm only going to wear it one time, I don't even know what to buy."

"Get whatever you want, Princess," he coaxed. "Maybe something purple?"

"Maybe..." you muttered as Bradley rolled you onto your belly in the middle of the bed. He watched over your shoulder as you started scrolling through some dresses, and he was practically salivating, because they would all look incredible on you. "Purple would be pretty."

"Mmhmm," he hummed, running his hands up the backs of your thighs and pushing your dress up around your waist. You glanced back at him as he carefully started to pull your underwear down. 

"What are you doing?" you asked with a little smirk as he inched your underwear down your legs and set them on the bed. 

He ran his big hands back up to your ass and bent to kiss you there. He could just see a glimpse of your pretty pussy as he kissed along the top of your thigh. "Exactly what you want me to do. But only if you order a dress." 

When you turned back to his phone, he ran his mustache along your perfect, soft skin. You were flawless, partly because of your age, but also because of how attractive you were. He was never going to tire of listening to your breath hitch when he touched you like his. He kneaded and palmed the globes of your ass, teasing down to your pussy with his thumbs until you whimpered. 

He tasted your skin everywhere, his tongue delving into your wetness as he pushed your legs further apart. You lifted yourself up onto your knees slightly, and he let you get away with it so he could taste more of you. But when you started to grind back against his face, he stilled you with his hands. 

"Did you pick out a dress yet?" he asked, licking the taste of your pussy from his mustache.

Your voice was quivering slightly. "I like this one, but it's expensive," you told him, holding up his phone. It was purple and two pieces with a fluffy Princess skirt. The top was covered in beads and would show off the tiniest bit of your waist all the way around. He was practically drooling just thinking about how much fun he'd have pushing all that fabric up to get to you. 

"Order it," he groaned before literally sinking his teeth into your ass and gently biting you so you squealed for him. "Order it right now, and I'll spank you and then fuck you."

"Okay," you moaned, and a minute later, you tossed his phone next to your underwear. "I ordered it." Bradley kissed you all over your ass before collecting you in his arms and draping you over his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

And just like last time, you loved it. He could tell. Every time his palm met your perfect body, you moaned his name and rubbed yourself against his thigh. Your skin felt warm as he soothed you and then spanked you again and again. "You're a good girl when you use the credit card," he crooned before dipping two fingers inside your pussy without warning. 

"Daddy!" you nearly shrieked, grinding back on his hand. He finger fucked you hard before withdrawing and then spanking you with his wet hand. The slapping noise and your reaction to him had him on the verge as he pulled you upright.

There were tears in your eyes and a soft smile on your face as you let him kiss your lips. He stroked his thumb along your cheek and whispered, "Get on your hands and knees."

You nodded and scrambled onto the bed, and he stood there and admired the sight before him. You were all round ass and soaking wet pussy as you pressed your cheek to the bedding and whined, "Bradley." He carefully unzipped his jeans, yanked them down, and thrust all the way inside you. The gentle hiss and soft groan as he filled you let him know you felt good. 

He let you have a few slow strokes before he grabbed you by the hips. Then he fucked you harder as you turned your head to bury your cries. A formal dress. A baby. A wife. He could think about little else besides you at the moment as he fucked you until he unloaded inside you with your name on his lips. 

Bradley knew he was a little rough as his hips continued to jerk, fucking his cum deeper. You lifted your face away from the bedding and started to crawl away from him, giving him a beautiful view of your pussy leaking his cum. 

"I'm sorry, Baby," he mumbled, shaking his head and climbing into the bed next to you. "I'm sorry I was a little rough." He was about to ask you if you wanted him to get you off with his mouth or his hands when you very gently reached for his face.

"I like it when you're rough," you whispered, voice full of emotion. "I like it when you're gentle with me, too. I love everything. I love living here with you in our house." You snuggled in closer to him and let your chin rest on his shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you too, Princess."

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

Getting back into your work routine was hard after taking a few days off and sleeping in with Bradley each morning. Dr. Kelly even joked that you looked too well rested. "How was the lake?" she asked, and you immediately thought about Bradley untying your bathing suit on the boat. 

"Great," you replied as casually as you could. "Noah had the best weekend. Once we convinced him there were no bears at Big Bear Lake."

Her eyes went wide as she reached for some latex gloves and followed you toward an exam room. "Could you imagine if he actually saw one?"

You shook your head immediately. "Don't even want to think about it."

As the afternoon wore on, you realized your butt was still sore, and you were hungry for ants on logs. And this was all because you were in love with being in love with the Bradshaw boys. When you took a short break and checked your phone, there was a text from Bradley.

Bradley Bradshaw: Hey, I'll be late today. Need to take care of some things at work. Can you pick Noah up?

You let him know you'd be happy to get Noah, and then you realized that maybe you'd get to see Casey, too. You were still giddy at the prospect of annoying her when you arrived at the daycare only to find Geena, the older teacher at the front desk. 

She greeted you warmly and then asked you for your ID. "I know that Casey probably knows you by now, and she's usually out here in the afternoons. But since she left a little early today, I'll just need to check your drivers license."

"No problem," you told her with a smile as you pulled it out of your wallet for her to inspect. She had you sign the sheet on the clipboard and then she vanished to get Noah. You wondered how late Bradley would be, but he never responded to your text when you asked him. Then Noah came running out, and you bent to scoop him up in your arms. 

"Mommy, we painted seashells today!" he gushed, holding up a ziplock bag with his name on it filled with colorful shells. 

"Noah! They're beautiful!" you told him as you waved goodbye to Geena and took him out to your car. "Do you want to turn them into a craft for Daddy when we get home?"

"Yeah!"

An hour later, you were still in your scrubs from work, making dinner while Noah glued some of the smaller shells onto a sheet of construction paper. You stopped what you were doing occasionally to help him arrange the shells to spell DADDY. "Looking good," you told him as he sounded out the letters. He loved reading, and you loved how excited he got. 

You kissed his forehead and then checked your phone as it vibrated on the counter. But when you saw it was your coworker trying to plan a happy hour, you set it down and sighed. You weren't sure if you should make a plate of food for Bradley or not. He'd probably be starving when he got home, so you decided to leave a serving out on the counter for him while you and Noah ate together. But you ended up just picking at your food. You hadn't heard from Bradley in hours. 

"Wanna get changed for bed?" you asked Noah after dinner. He went racing off to his bedroom and dug around in his drawer for his dinosaur pajamas. When he put the shirt on backwards, you helped him switch it around. 

"I want a snack," he told you just as you heard the front door open. Your heart leapt as you and he raced into the living room. Bradley looked exhausted in his rumpled uniform, and he was carrying a light blue box in one hand. 

"Hey, Bub," he said, kneeling so Noah could hug him. "You have a good day?"

"I made you a craft!"

Bradley looked up at you and smiled a little hesitantly. "Sorry I'm late," he mumbled as Noah yanked on his arm until he stood. He kissed your cheek as he was led into the kitchen, and Noah showed him the construction paper that was absolutely saturated with drying glue and seashells. "Wow! I love this! I think we need to let it dry overnight though."

"That's what Mommy said," Noah replied as Bradley set him down in one of the chairs. 

"What's in the box?" you asked. He opened it up to reveal a whole variety of pastries. Cookies, cupcakes, brownies and even a donut shaped like a crown. Now you felt bad for being a little annoyed with his lack of communication all afternoon and evening. 

Noah reached into the box, and Bradley snatched up the donut before he could get to it. "This one's yours."

"Thanks," you whispered before biting into it. The outside melted in your mouth, and the inside was filled with rich cream. It was delicious. Bradley leaned down to lick the corner of your mouth, and you felt your cheeks grow warm.

But once Noah was asleep, Bradley took a quick shower alone and collapsed into bed. "I'm fucking beat today," he said with an enormous yawn. "You ready for bed?" 

"Yeah," you agreed as he pulled the blanket over himself, and after you took a long shower he was already asleep. So you just snuggled in next to him, and eventually you fell asleep, too. 

The following morning, Bradley was still sound asleep when your alarm went off, something that never happened. "Daddy," you whispered, shaking him and kissing his cheek. "Wake up." He just grunted at you and rolled over. "Seriously?" you muttered, rolling out of bed since you could hear Noah in the bathroom. You changed into clean scrubs and skipped makeup since Noah was bugging for breakfast as soon as he saw you.

"Eggs or cereal?" you asked him once you had him dressed for the day. 

"Cereal," he replied. "And can I have another cookie? From the blue box?"

"We'll see," you said, setting him up with breakfast and then going back to find Bradley half dressed in his flight suit and messing with his phone. "You're up."

His eyes met yours, and he tucked his phone in his pocket. "Yeah. Sorry, I don't know why I was so tired. Can you drop Noah off so I'm not late?"

You nodded, and he cupped your cheek in his big hand. "Thanks, Princess." Then he grabbed the travel mug of coffee you made for him and took a protein bar and a cookie. With a quick kiss to Noah's head, he was out the front door. 

"Daddy had a cookie," Noah whined. "I want one, too."

You realized there was no point in arguing with him if Bradley was the one setting a bad example, so you carried the pastry box over to the table. You noticed it was from Sweet Dreams Bakery which was all the way across the city. Noah managed to snag two cookies as you stood there with the box open in a daze. Why was Bradley on the other side of San Diego yesterday? It was mostly residential over there.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath. You'd be late if you didn't get Noah in the car in the next few minutes. You quickly made yourself lunch and grabbed everything he would need before hauling him out to the car. You gently swiped cookie crumbs from his face and clothes as you buckled him in. "I'll drop you off quickly, and then Daddy will pick you up later, okay?"

Noah just nodded as he smiled. He would probably be on a sugar high within the hour, but at least he would be someone else's problem to deal with then. And you quickly learned that he would be Casey's problem to deal with when you took him inside and realized that you looked like a nightmare compared to her today. She was wearing an outfit so cute, you kind of wished you had one just like it. And she smiled maliciously at you.

"Good morning, Noah," she said sweetly as she practically tossed the clipboard in your direction. She walked him into the classroom as you signed your name and put the date and time. 

"Thanks," you mumbled, handing the clipboard back to her when she reappeared. 

"You know, I'm a little surprised it's you dropping him off today instead of Bradley. I mean, Lieutenant Bradshaw." She looked so smug you wanted to scream and smear her perfect makeup. 

But you stood there and calmly said, "We've already been over this. I'll be dropping Noah off and picking him up as well now. Indefinitely."

"Okay," she replied, barely paying any attention to you as she opened up a light blue pastry box identical to the one in your kitchen. "You keep telling yourself that."

You swallowed hard and looked between her face and the box one more time before you turned on your heel and rushed back out to your car.

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

What's up, Daddy? And why? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 40

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[ssaaaronmontgomery]

give us some dbf!hotch i’m begging 😫😫

A Little Help

Warnings: Smut, dbf!hotch, oral (fem receiving), slight sir kink, pet names, vaginal fingering, gagging, masturbation (male and female), Hotch sends you a nude photo 🤭, age gap (both are consenting adults), not proofread, I think that's all!

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: dbf!hotch x fem!reader

A/n: I've got some dbf!hotch in my drafts that I have yet to finish but maybe I can do a little something real quick 🤭.

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d @ivyflowers13 @randomuserrs

Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11 @htchnr

Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶

This post is nsfw minors DNI****

You are in your bedroom when the party starts and you're having some trouble finishing yourself off so you can hurry up and get downstairs. Aaron had been on your mind and it was creating a problem between your legs that you couldn't ignore no matter how hard you tried, but once you got your hand between your thighs it seemed like you just couldn't quite get there. Not without help anyway.

You could hear the noise downstairs as the party your parents were throwing started to get a little louder and you could tell there were plenty of people there to distract your parents from your absence.

You continue to rub your clit as you try to bring yourself over the edge but it seems like every single time you might be getting closer, your body doesn't let you get there and it's more than frustrating for you. A few more minutes of this continue and you sigh at the frustration. It's right then that your bedroom door opens and you jump in surprise and move to cover yourself but you stop when you see Aaron walk through the door with a smirk on his face as he closes it behind him.

"Aaron!" You whisper shout at him and he chuckles a little as he sees what you've been up to. "So this is what's keeping you from the party? I'll have to come up with a different excuse for your parents. They asked about you but I think they're distracted by the new guests that keep talking their ears off." He stands there with that smirk and his arms crossed over his chest as he looks you over and you just lay there frozen as you look back at him. Your hand is still between your thighs but it has stopped its movements.

"You sounded frustrated before I came in, princess. Do you need some help?" His voice sends more arousal straight to your core and you lick your lips before nodding. He smiles and climbs on the bed and you instinctively spread your legs for him. Aaron situates himself between your thighs now and swats your hand away from yourself. He kisses and nibbles on the insides of your thighs, licking them and sucking on them.

Finally he gets his face right where you need it and he licks up some of your slick from your folds which immediately pulls a groan from him, thankfully it's muffled by your dripping cunt. The vibrations feel like heaven and you let your head fall back against your pillow as your hands tangle in his hair to keep him in place.

Soon enough Aaron is lapping at you. It's been a few weeks since he's tasted you and you've both missed it. He has felt starved from you and it is clear to you as he eats you out like he's desperate for it. His tongue flicks your clit and you moan at the sensation but a quick slap to your thigh quiets you down.

"Keep it down, princess. I love your sounds but right now we have to be quiet, okay? Can you do that for me, baby?" Aaron plants a soft chaste kiss on your aching bud and you whimper at him but nod. "Yes, sir." Another kiss. "Good girl." He moves his tongue to your hole and starts thrusting it in and out of you and he moans into your cunt as he gets a better taste of what he's been missing the last few weeks.

You have to cover your mouth with your hand when Aaron brings his hand up and starts rubbing your clit with his thumb as he continues to lap at your pussy. He quickly brings you your first and much needed orgasm of the night which causes another moan to slip from your lips but he lets it go for now so he can ride you through your high.

As soon as you finish, Aaron reaches for your lace underwear and grabs your mouth. He stuffs the fabric in and you look at him with wide eyes.

"You can't keep yourself quiet so we had to fix that." He quickly moves back down and wastes no more time before pushing two of his thick digits into your throbbing core. He brings his mouth back to your clit and starts licking and sucking and flicking it in a way that has you closing in on your second orgasm faster than you would have thought possible after how long it was taking you to just get your first one earlier by yourself.

Aaron pulls his mouth away briefly to speak. "Come on, angel. Be a good girl and soak my fingers. I know you can do it." As soon as he gets his mouth back on your sensitive bundle of nerves, your second orgasm crashes through you and you are both thankful for the underwear that is muffling your moans.

As soon as you come down from your second high, Aaron ceases his movements and pulls the underwear from your mouth. "I would love to stay and cuddle you but need to get dressed and get downstairs before someone else comes up to find you. And I need to go take care of this." Aaron gestures to his throbbing cock that is currently pressed against your hip.

You nod and he helps you up before handing the underwear back to you. You don't take it though. Instead, you push his hand back towards him. "Use it to get off. I have plenty of others." You smile at him and he just grins at you. When he kisses your lips you can taste yourself on them and it nearly makes you say 'fuck it' and decide to stay but you know you can't take any longer to join the party. So you reluctantly pull away and dress yourself as you move with wobbly legs.

"I'll see you downstairs then?" You ask him and he gets a little shy as he blushes and nods. "Yeah, in a few minutes. Tell them I had to use the toilet if they ask where I am." You nod your head and kiss him again, palming his member through the fabric as you do and he moans against your lips but you pull away and he sighs. "Okay, go before I change my mind and keep you up here with me. We can have more fun later but right now you really need to make an appearance at the party." You kiss him one last time before walking over to the door.

"Have fun, Aaron. Send me a photo. I want to see your cock wrapped up in my underwear as you get off with them." You wink at him and grin more which only makes him blush even more. He nods and you finally leave the room to join the party which you can't even remember the purpose of. Sure enough, a few minutes later you hear your phone chime and you sneak a glance at it to see a picture from Aaron. His large hand and your soaked underwear wrapped around his dick as he strokes himself in your room. It nearly makes you moan but you manage to suppress it and focus on the party once again.

You know you'll both be having some more fun later. You'll coincidentally have plans and have to leave shortly after Aaron does. And then you'll end up in his bed as he pounds into you and your moans will fill his ears as his fill yours.

[sugarcoated-lame]

Lost and Found | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Single Dad!Bradley x Reader

Part One of my Single dad!Bradley miniseries | part two | library blog

*all my works are 18+, minors DNI

Summary: When Bradley’s four-year old daughter goes missing during a trip to the mall, he doesn’t expect to find himself so taken with the pretty stranger who helps her find her way back to him.

WC: 3.6K

Warnings: I suck at titling my stories and summaries :), a bit of angst, mentions of pregnancy and abandonment, (briefly) missing child, mentions of anxiety/panic attack, but then so much fluff, Bradley’s kid being too cute for her own good, implied age gap, I feel like dilf Bradley needs his own warning

a/n: I wrote this months ago and I’m a bit nervous to share, but the response to the teaser was so amazing (thank you <3) and dilf Bradley lives in my head rent-free, so I’m excited about this one! Also the picture on the right just screams dad Bradley to me! Thank you for reading, as always I’d love to hear your feedback, so please leave a comment/reblog <3

• • •

Bradley directs his gaze away from the rack of little girls’ clothes he’d been perusing, injecting enthusiasm into his voice as he holds up a hanger with a small, baby pink t-shirt dress hanging on it. “Hey, Bug. What do you think of this–?” 

He cuts himself off before the end of his question when he realizes that he’s talking to no one. “Where did she…?” 

He trails off, brows furrowed. Still holding up the child-sized dress that looks especially tiny next to his large frame, Bradley spins around, perplexed. She was just here.

- - - 

Bradley’s daughter, Caroline, who’d just recently turned four— and was growing up way too fast for his liking— was set to begin preschool next week. His little girl was growing right before his eyes and she needed a new wardrobe to accommodate that. So, Bradley had taken her to the mall to buy some new clothes for school. He didn’t know the first thing about little girls’ fashion, but he was sure he could manage.

He’d spent the last hour searching through clothing rack after clothing rack in the girl’s section of a department store, Caroline at his side, lips in a pout and shaking her little head ‘no’ at all of his choices, sandy brown curls bobbing along with her every movement. Bradley could tell the four-year old was getting bored, and he was becoming frustrated.

The buzzing of his phone with a text from Maverick granted him a brief reprieve from his predicament.

“One second, honey.” Bradley sighed, affectionately patting the top of his daughter’s head before looking toward his phone to answer some question Mav had about work.

He was happy for a moment’s distraction from getting ready to tear his hair out wondering if he was going to have to send his daughter to her first day of preschool wearing a trash bag because he didn’t know what the hell kind of clothes he’s supposed to buy for a picky four-year old girl.

Bradley had been a single parent for most of his daughter’s life. He and Caroline’s mother, Amber, had only been seeing each other for the better half of a year when they found out the news that they were expecting. And even then, their relationship was never really official.

The two met not long after the Uranium Mission, while Bradley was still on North Island taking some time to relax and awaiting another assignment. He’d gone to the little diner Amber was waitressing at, he thought she was cute and they’d hit it off straight away. Bradley got her number and the rest was history.

The Navy kept Bradley busy. He was always traveling for some assignment or deployments – sometimes gone for months at a time, so they only saw each other on the rare occasions he was in town. 

They’d hang out and hook up, maybe go on a date here and there, a sort of friends-with-benefits situation. There was definitely a sense of care between Bradley and Amber, but the lack of time they were able to spend together meant it never went beyond that.

When they learned that Amber was pregnant, they both knew it wouldn’t be easy. But they thought that, together, they could make it work.

A few months after Caroline was born though, Amber admitted that she couldn’t handle things.

Bradley took to being a father so easily. From the moment their baby was born and she looked up at him with those big, honey brown eyes that matched his own, he knew that he’d do absolutely anything for her. Caroline instantly became his world.

Amber, on the other hand, really struggled. She loved her baby of course, but deep down she wasn’t sure she was ready to be a mother. If she’d ever be. 

She figured it was better if she’d gone while Caroline was still young enough that she wouldn’t remember her, and knew that their daughter would be just fine in Bradley’s loving hands. And just like that, she left the both of them.

Bradley resented Amber for a while, but in time he came to understand. Not everyone was meant to be a parent. Besides that, he knew that there was no time for resentment. 

He was on his own with a four-month old baby and he needed to put all of his energy into taking care of her. So, he requested a more permanent position at Top Gun so that he could stay in one place to raise his daughter, and it’s been just the two of them ever since.  

 - - - 

Bradley couldn’t have been turned around for more than thirty seconds before he pocketed his phone and reached back out to grab the little pink dress off the rack to show his daughter. But, when he turned back, Caroline was nowhere to be seen.

Ok, don’t panic, Bradley tells himself. She can’t have gone far.  

“Caroline?” He calls out calmly, eyes darting around the surrounding area as he spins to look in every direction.

When he doesn’t receive a response, Bradley puts down the dress he was holding and begins to walk among the sea of clothing racks, still calling out his daughter’s name.

He searches the entire girl’s section of the store without success and decides to broaden his search, his heart beginning to speed up in his chest. Ok, he’s starting to panic.

Bradley picks up his pace, maneuvering from one section of the store to another, asking the other customers and few employees that mill about if they’ve seen his daughter. 

He knows he must look crazed, practically sprinting, his sneakers squeaking as he moves across the shiny floors as his repeated calls of Caroline’s name become increasingly more frantic — panting and on the verge of tears by the time he’s finished searching the entirety of the large department store to no avail.

Bradley stands frozen in the middle of the store, tears pricking his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly on the brink of hyperventilating. He’s at a loss for what to do. His mind racing through all of the worst scenarios. What if she’s hurt? What if someone took her? 

It’s his job to protect his little girl and make sure that she’s always safe, and he failed her. He’s all that Caroline has, and he feels like a failure of a father.

- - -

You’re walking through the busy mall with a couple of bags in hand, all finished with your shopping and ready to head home when you see her. 

A little girl — tiny really, she can’t be older than five — with curls a golden shade bordering between both blonde and brown, standing by the bottom of the escalator, alone. 

Playing with her little fingers as she looks around the crowd aimlessly with unshed tears in her big, brown eyes. The scared look on her adorable little face breaks your heart, and you know you can’t leave without making sure she’s okay.

You approach her slowly, as if she were a frightened animal that might bolt at any moment, speaking softly so as not to scare her any further. “Hey, honey. Are you alright?”

The look she gives you is a shy one, eyes widening before she looks down at her light-up sneakers and shakes her head. 

You can tell the little girl is apprehensive about talking to a stranger — smart.

Kneeling down to be at her eye-level before speaking again, and setting your shopping bags down at your sides, you tell her your name and ask for hers.

“I’m Caroline.” Her voice is sweet and shy, a near-whisper as she chances a glance up at you, eyes still shining with tears when she lifts her head.

“Are you here alone, Caroline? Are you with your mommy and daddy?” You ask her gently.

She shakes her head again, curls swaying along with the motion.  “I was with my daddy, but I lost him.”

The adorable pout on her lips might’ve made you smile, if it weren’t for the tears that follow, finally spilling from her eyes and trailing down onto her rosy cheeks.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I can help you find him!” You soothe as your thumb moves to brush her tears away. “Where did you last see him?”

Caroline sniffles and thinks for a moment before speaking, a little bit louder this time.

“We were buying me clothes for preschool in one of the big stores, and my daddy had to answer the phone so I was looking all by myself. And then I got lost and I couldn’t find him.”

You continue to wipe at Caroline’s tears as she talks in that rambling sort of way that all little kids do.

“Preschool, wow. That sounds fun!” You try to take her mind off of the scary situation for a second and she nods excitedly at that, still sniffling. “What’s your daddy’s name?”

Her tears finally begin to slow as she talks about her dad.

“His name’s Bradley, but everybody calls him Rooster! He flies planes!” Caroline explains excitedly. 

You can’t help but chuckle as you tell her that her dad has a funny nickname, and that his job sounds fun. You’re happy to see Caroline give you a small smile back.

“Do you remember what store you and your daddy were shopping in?”

She has to think for a long moment, the most adorable, pensive pout you’ve ever seen on her face as she tries to remember.

She doesn’t know the name of the store, but she is able to describe it for you, and you’re able to make a distinction from there.

Standing back to your full height, you readjust your bags on one arm and extend your free hand out towards Caroline, offering her a reassuring smile.  

“I know exactly where that is! Ready to go find him?” Caroline grins as she takes your hand with an excited nod, tears no longer visible in her big brown eyes.

The two of you walk on in search of her dad — Bradley, and Caroline talks your ear off the whole way. She is absolutely adorable, telling you more about herself and asking you questions about yourself too, and you find yourself falling more in love with her sweet disposition by the minute. 

Within five minutes, you make it to the store that Caroline had been in last, hopeful to reunite her with her father who you figure must be worried sick.

- - -

Bradley isn’t quite sure how long he’s been scouring the massive department store looking for his four-year old daughter— though it feels like forever, time seeming to move in slow motion— on the brink of a panic attack and just about ready to phone the police when he hears a familiar high-pitched shriek of, “DADDY!”

He turns around at lightning speed — and practically gives himself whiplash — to see Caroline approaching him, holding a woman’s hand. 

When she lets go and bounds right towards him, Bradley lets out a massive sigh of relief. Kneeling down to catch his little girl in his arms, he feels like he might cry all over again, overcome with a flurry of emotions now that his daughter is safe in his embrace once again.

“Caroline, baby, you scared me half to death!” Bradley can’t keep the emotion out of his voice as he lifts his daughter into his arms and stands back up to his full height, lying his head atop of hers and squeezing her tight. “You can’t just wander off like that, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

He tries his best not to sound angry — she is only four after all, and he’s just thankful that she’s okay. Caroline’s arms wrap around his neck as he holds her tight, her face burrowing into the crook of Bradley’s neck.

“Daddy, I’m fine!” She insists. “And I made a new friend!” 

It’s only then that Bradley looks up at the woman who had reunited him with his little girl, standing a few feet away and watching them with a sweet smile.

Oh. It’s only then that he realizes, you are beautiful. 

Bradley’s honestly convinced you might be an angel. Pretty, bright eyes and a glowing sweet smile that nearly takes his breath away. And, you’d been kind enough to help his daughter safely find her way back to him.

Bradley just stares for a moment, lips parted and still holding Caroline in his arms, and he hopes that you’ll chalk it up to the overwhelming nature of the situation.

“Uh– thank you so much for bringing Caroline back to me. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” He rushes out, hand cradling the back of his baby’s hair. “I-I’m…” Fuck, why is he so nervous all of a sudden?

“…Bradley,” You finish for him. “Or, Rooster. Right?”

His brows furrow, a pensive look on his very handsome face, a look that you realize matches the one you had seen on his daughter’s face earlier. Cute.  

“How did you-” He begins to question how you know his name — and call-sign — but is promptly cut off by his four-year old practically screaming in his ear.

“I told her, Daddy!” Caroline exclaims proudly.  

For a man called ‘Rooster’, you sure were not expecting Caroline’s dad to be this good looking. But, fuck, is he hot.

Though he’s clearly got a few years on you, Bradley’s all tall and sun-kissed, tan skin. Broad shoulders and big, muscular arms on display in his fitted black t-shirt while he holds up his little girl, sandy curls a shade or two darker than hers. Whiskey-colored eyes that match his daughter’s, that you can only describe as puppy dog eyes. 

His deep, husky voice that sends tingles down your spine and beautifully shaped pink lips framed by a mustache that you’re surprised you find so attractive.

“Well, I’m glad I could be of help.” You hope that he can’t see the flush you can feel blooming on your cheeks as you speak. “And, Caroline was great company!”

You wink at the little girl who giggles against his shoulder, and when Bradley smiles at you graciously, you can’t help but smile back. God, his smile is pretty.

Up in his arms, Caroline gets distracted playing with her dad's curls. There are a few moments of silence between you, though not uncomfortable, before Bradley speaks up again.

“Well, thank you again. I–uh,” Bradley clears his throat. 

“I guess we should let you go. We’ve gotta find some clothes for this little troublemaker, otherwise she’ll have to go to school wearing a garbage bag.” Bradley jokes in a playful tone, bouncing his daughter around in his arms as she giggles, and you can’t help but laugh too at the infectious sound.

“Daddy, wait!” Caroline shouts out before you can answer him.

“What is it, little bug?” Bradley murmurs as he strokes a hand lovingly over her curls. Caroline turns in his hold, directing her next question toward you.

“Can you come with us?” Oh, her puppy dog eyes are even cuter than Bradley’s, and you imagine he probably has a hard time ever saying no to her. “Daddy has no idea what he’s doing when it comes to girl clothes.”

You can’t contain the giggle that escapes your lips as Caroline dramatically rolls her eyes and Bradley lets out an offended huff, the two of them staring at each other with matching, petulant pouts. Adorable.

“That is not true!” Bradley practically shrieks at his daughter and it only makes you laugh more.

“And, honey, she probably doesn’t want–” Bradley begins to protest before you interject.

“I’d love to.” You chime in with a coy grin and Bradley looks back at you, bewildered.

Sure, you figure he probably has a beautiful wife waiting for him at home, but what’s the harm in spending just a little more time with a handsome pilot and his adorable daughter? So far, you’re having a lot of fun.

Bradley’s brows furrow skeptically. “Are you…sure?”

You purse your lips, staring up toward the ceiling for a moment as if you really need to think about it before you grin and offer him a one-shouldered shrug. “Yeah, I’ve got nowhere to be.” 

You hope you don’t seem too eager, but the matching smiles you receive from both Bradley and Caroline tell you they don’t mind.

Bradley’s honestly a bit shocked that you— a pretty, young, complete stranger, want to stick around to hang out with him and his kid, but he isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

So, once you assure him again that you’re happy to stay, he sets Caroline back on her feet and offers — more like insists — that he holds your shopping bags, and the three of you set off to peruse the oh-so daunting girl’s clothing section of the store once again.

Bradley watches in awe as Caroline grabs your hand, tugging you along as you help her pick out some articles of clothing.

The two of you chatter the whole time, bringing him into the conversations too, holding up articles of clothing and asking what he thinks, and Bradley is delighted to see how good you are with his daughter.

“This would look pretty on you!” Caroline holds out a little girl’s purple sweater dress in your direction. “Wouldn’t it, Daddy?” 

You’re biting back a grin as Bradley looks to you and then back to his daughter and chuckles.

“I don’t think it comes in her size, Bug.” Bradley’s gaze returns to you, mirth in his eyes when he continues, “But yeah, it would look very pretty.” 

You know he can see the obvious flush to your cheeks this time as his lips pull up into a smirk. 

Shaking your head, you look back down to Caroline with a grin. “I think it’d look even prettier on your dad.” That pulls a giggle out of both of them. 

Things go on like that as the three of you continue to shop, Bradley admiring how sweet and funny you are, how patient you are with his daughter.

The two of you discreetly sharing amused looks at some of the obscure things Caroline says that could only come out of a little kid’s mouth, banter coming easily between the three of you. 

After a short while, Caroline has an array of new outfits for school— and a new stuffed animal after some begging and very convincing puppy dog eyes from his four-year old while you stood by and tried not to giggle, and Bradley knows that he wants to get to know you more.

He hasn’t done much in the way of dating since becoming a single father. Aside from the simple lack of time, Bradley’s always been afraid that most women won’t want to stick around when they find out he has a kid.

That they might not get along with his daughter or worse, be upset when they realize that Caroline will always be his number one priority. 

Too scared to let his daughter get attached to someone only for them to leave, Caroline is his world and he’s been content with that. 

But now, after seeing the way you are with his little girl — and in such a short time, he can’t help but think that he already likes you being a part of it.

With the clothing shopping done, the sun is setting by the time you're all ready leave the mall. Bradley and Caroline walk you out to your car, and both are reluctant to say goodbye to you just yet. You can't say you’re too happy to part with them either. 

As he helps you put your bags in the trunk of your car, Bradley knows he needs to take his shot now — or as Hangman likes to tell him, he needs to get off his perch.

“Hey, could I possibly get your number?” Bradley asks, trying to sound as confident as his voice can possibly muster. “I’d love to see you again.”

Caroline pipes up from next to you, jumping up and down while she still holds your hand. “Me too!”

Is he asking you out? The breathless laugh you let out is one of shock, and you’re sure the look on your face matches as you glance between the adorable father-daughter duo.

You’re also sure that you’re blushing again.

For a moment, you can only stand frozen, lips parted, and when you realize you’ve yet to answer his question, you promptly close your mouth and attempt to school your features, quickly nodding your head.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You tell him shyly, and Bradley can’t help but smirk at the color that’s begun to paint your cheeks. 

He hands over his phone and tries not to smile too hard as you type in your number, glancing up at him and biting back your own grin while you send yourself a text so that you’d have his too.

You kneel down to squeeze Caroline into a hug, the little girl happily wrapping her arms around your neck. You leave her with a promise that you’ll see them again soon, though the way you look up at her father over her shoulder lets Bradley know that that promise is directed at the both of them. 

When you stand, Bradley gazes at you with a thoughtful smile before bringing you into a hug too.

“Have a good night, sweetheart.” The deep rumble of his voice so close to your ear, as well as the heat of his touch, leave your body feeling warm all over. That warmth never fading even as you watch Bradley and Caroline cross the parking lot, hand-in-hand, to get to their car.

Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t mind seeing him again soon. 

- - -

Thank you for reading! Leave a comment/reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated! x

Part 2 will be up next Wednesday! <3

UPDATE: you can read part two here ! ❤️

tag list: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @simonscumsock

also tagging some people who reblogged/replied to the sneak peek : @fanficfandomlove @hangmanssunnies @milestomaverick @maverick-wingman @teacupsandtopgun @katiemcrae @colourfulsuitwonderland @becks-things @bradshawsbaddie @bradshawsbitch @valhallaas @roger-that-cap @woodkiller

. . .

[moolovesyou]

new year's eve | angus tully x reader

a/n: christmas oveeerrrr! but the holdovers season never ends. had to put on '10 things i hate about you' for this one. ;-]

request: could i request a ‘she fell first, he fell harder’ kind of thing? where reader has had a thing for angus for a while but decides to give it up since there isn’t any development, and angus only confirms his feelings when he sees reader w/ someone else… but with a fluffy ending ofc teehee 🫶 thank you!

s: new year's eve leads a smitten reader to an eventful party, where an oblivious angus discovers something new.

w: cursing, harassment, drinking

wc: 3.3k

Angus Tully is perfect and no one knew it. Not even he knows how precious he is. Only you do.

He has eyes that the gods themselves plucked gently from the purest doe. He has a laugh that even the greatest orchestra couldn't replicate. His nose casts shadows the moon is envious of. Everywhere you look, some of his beauty happened to be scattered around.

You were smitten since the moment you first saw him. Unfortunately, this lovestruck revelation proved to be more of a problem than a passion.

The year was coming to an end. The big '31st' had everyone rampaging supermarkets for expensive wine and a bowlful of grapes. Word around Barton and Wickline had spread about a New Year's Eve party being held by Jason Smith. His parents had bought a jacuzzi in anticipation. There was rumors they had bought all the town's stock of fireworks. It was probably going to win the title for biggest party of the year. You didn't wanna show up alone while everyone sucks face at midnight.

This would be a great opportunity to finally confess your feelings to Angus. You could go into the New Year with a bang, a pretty and curly-haired bang. You were sick of missing out on vital memory-making experiences. Boys. Parties. Friends.

So, there you were. A week before the 31st. Trying to find the courage to ask the boy of your dreams out.

It was a regular afternoon. You and Tully went to the Pleasant Cafe, where half of the city's teenage population would be. The both of you would then giggle and snicker about the snobby trust fund boys and bratty daddy's girls. It was your favorite hobby. You did this everyday, but you couldn't help but feel the nervous prickles in your stomach. It's like all the butterflies in your stomach had taken up fencing, except they were really bad at it and kept stabbing your organs.

"Y/N, look!" Angus yelped enthusiastically. He had been playing on the pinball machine for the past 15 minutes. His body jerked and contorted itself with the movement of the ball. He was in the zone. "I think I'm gonna beat your high score!"

His eyes lit up with the golden bulbs on the machine. He would blow a sharp puff of air to move strands of his curls. He could be brushing his teeth and you'd still be utterly entranced. You sat on a bench of the table closest to the machine. Your face was cradled by the palm of your hand. And your eyes were locked onto Angus.

"No, no. . . !" His brows furrowed. Angus's lips parted slightly, breathing slowly in concentration. The pinball machine panged and jingled. With a single final press of the flipper button, the pinball flew to the top of the playfield. Then, like a soaring seagull, it plunged straight down. It slipped past the flippers, falling through the outlane. Angus slammed his hand against the machine. "FUCK!"

"Face it, Tully. You'll never be as good as me." You pretended to flip your hair obnoxiously. He huffed, shaking his head with a small smile.

"Scooch over." Angus slumped into the bench beside you, bumping his hip into you. You giggled as he shoved you against the wall playfully.

He waved over a waitress, asking for two Cokes. You took a deep breath. The calm silence had invited you to propose your question to him. He rummaged through his pockets aggressively, searching for a reason to rematch.

"So. . . Have you heard about the party Jason is throwing?" You fiddled with the ring on your finger. Your heart was a caged bird waiting to be freed with a single confession. Angus turned to face you.

"Yeah!" He rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I heard it's gonna be crazy. Hookers. Drugs. Didn't they rent the Beatles?"

"Sure." You rolled your eyes, a smile creeping on your lips. No matter what kind of day you were having, he always had something funny to say packed behind those pink lips. "Are you gonna go?

"Maybe." He sighed, narrowing his eyes as he stared out the window. His hands clasped each other atop the table. "I don't have any other plans for New Year's. I think I should finish the year off with some good blow."

"Totally. Then, nothing can stop you from streaking naked at midnight." You nudged him. His eyes flickered to your shoulder touching him, then back to your eyes. A red tint rose to his cheeks.

"Wouldn't you like to see that?" Angus raised his brows suggestively. He was obviously joking, but your face flushed in fear that your feelings were that noticeable.

Your palms had sweat so much you could slick your hair back. But the butterflies in your stomach had now begun to kill each other without mercy, and only this invitation could bring back peace. You chewed on the inside of your cheeks, gummy muscle nearly drawing blood.

You exhaled shakily.

Youth is fleeting. The year is ending. It's now or never.

"Hey. . . Um- Do-"

"2 cokes, right here!" The perky waitress interrupted you. She was one of the younger staff members here, probably a college student looking for quick money. She set down the fizzy drinks, popping a straw in each.

"Thank you, ma'am." Angus nodded, flashing a closed mouth smile.

"Oh! Call me Hailey, honey." She batted her eyelashes at him. The woman straightened her posture, popping her chest out a bit. Angus chuckled, eyes slightly widened.

"Okay, Hailey. Thanks for the service." He took a sip of his coke.

"Thanks for the view." She winked at him, causing his face to go beet red. She grabbed a pen from her apron, jotting down a few numbers onto her notepad. With a swift pull, she ripped the paper out, slapping it onto the table and sliding it towards Angus. "Call me."

The waitress sauntered away, flashing a small glance at him over her shoulder. Then, she disappeared into the kitchen. It felt like the courage was ripped out of your throat and aggressively crushed. You couldn't even find the strength to breathe.

Angus looked at you in disbelief, flashing the paper towards you. You forced a weak smile. He stuffed it into his pocket, and that single action almost made you barf. Your mind felt like a never-ending rollercoaster. One of those rides that had a shit-ton of loops and were highspeed. Every one of the rollercoaster carts was crashing into each other as the possibility of ever ending up with Angus was shattered.

Anyone would've said you were overreacting. But, you had woken up with this intention. You had planned this for days. You had restless nights spent overanalyzing every way of asking him out. You had diary entries dating back to March about how much you admired him. To you, this was a stab to the gut. A stab that had all those butterflies fleeting out the wound.

"I think I need to go." You muttered. Angus frowned, his head titling curiously. "I have some chores to do before my parents get home."

He sat up, moving out of the booth. You scrambled out of the seat. You turned to face him. His shoulders hunched as he gazed down at you.

"I'll see you?" He smiled softly. His brows were raised, as if he was scanning your face for any worries. You bit your lip.

"We can only hope." You quipped sadly.

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. You pursed your lips, and with that you walked out the door. You shut the door harshly, the bell dinging sharply. The number of butterflies in your stomach had diminished to a single, meekly, lonely little one. The little bastard couldn't even fly.

4 days later, after excessive mourning and yearning, the unthinkable happened. Teddy Kountz caught you outside the corner store to ask you a frankly insulting question.

"Y/N, right?. . . You. . . uh. . . wanna' go to the party with me?"

And you said yes. He didn't even know your name. But you were more worried about spending New Year's Eve alone than frying your brain by listening to Kountz.

Now, you found yourself in front of the Smith residence, waiting for the blond himbo to show up. It was only 8 o'clock and the place was packed. The lawn already looking like a premature landfill; full of disposable cups and various cans of alcoholic beverages. You had tried to dress nice for the new year, but nothing could mask the filth you felt. You kicked the cans with your fancy shoes.

"Hey, Y/N! Didn't expect to see you here." A deep voice hollered from across the street.

You glanced up, eyes meeting with those familiar brown puppy eyes. He wore dark blue jeans and a patterned dress shirt. He wore his favorite watch, fiddling with it as he smiled at you.

"Oh. Um. . . yeah." You murmured, averting eye contact.

"Why are you out here? The party is in there." Angus questioned, his brows knitted together. He pushed his curls away from his forehead, gaze set upon you.

"I'm waiting for-"

"Kate-. . . er- Y/N!"

Kountz strolled in with a 6-pack of beer in one hand. He slung an arm haphazardly around your shoulders. He already had a musk of alcohol clouded around him. He pulled you close to him, causing you to grimace.

Kountz looked Angus up and down. Angus's face dropped; it was devoid of any expression.

"What are you doing here, fuckwad? Don't you have snow globes to steal?"

Angus's jaw clenched. You knew that in his mind right now, imaginary insults were hurling left and right. Although, his eyes locked with yours, and all you could see was a look of betrayal laced along his features. His nose scrunched in disbelief and he scoffed, shoving Kountz's shoulder and walking inside the house.

Your heart felt like it was strapped down and stretched in every direction, and all that was left was a flat pancake of muscle. The image of his tall figure disappearing into a crowd of people hurt more than the dream-crushing waitress from hell.

"Let's PARTY!" Kountz screeched into your ear.

Thus, you were begrudgingly dragged inside. For the next 3 hours, you jumped from section to section. You lingered around the foodies in the kitchen, trying every chip and dip sadly. You had slumped yourself into the couch where you found yourself in the 'grabby couple corner'. You couldn't focus on The Addams Family playing on the TV with the sloppy making out noises beside you. Your sorrow was clouded by a literal smoke cloud when you stepped into the backyard with the smokers. You couldn't help but search for Angus in every face. You hadn't even found it in yourself to drink, simply watching Kountz speedrun liver damage for an hour.

The blond grabbed you by the wrist, spinning you towards him. It was a weak attempt at dancing.

"Feel the rhythm!" Kountz yelled.

"I think you're trying to feel something else." You hissed, swatting his wandering hands.

"Hey!" He pouted, nearly falling off his balance. "You're such a debbie downer. Come on! Let's have some fun."

Kountz wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you as he stumbled around.

"Kountz, stop!" You tried to push yourself out of his grip, but it seems alcohol was the spinach to his Popeye. He dragged the both of you closer farther into the grass.

"Oh my. . . hiccup. . . god! Fuck, yeah!" His drunken gaze locked onto a corner of the backyard.

Your eyes snapped over. So, it was true. A brand-new, bubbling jacuzzi. Your eyes widened.

"GET OFF OF ME!" You screamed. "I'M SERIOUS, KOUNTZ! FUCKING STOP!"

A crowd had accumulated around you guys. People shoved through to reach the front for a better look. They laughed and whooped in amusement.

"Y/N!"

Angus yelled through the crowd, but you couldn't hear him. Your focus was on kicking that human trash pile off. Kountz took a quick and final chug of his beer, throwing it into a bush and hollering once more. He hugged you impossibly tighter, nuzzling his face into your neck. The back of your knees pressed against the jacuzzi, and before you knew it, the both of you tumbled into the water.

Water splashed onto the ground. For a second, you debated staying underwater. Everyone else was experiencing this hammered out of their minds. You were completely sober. You felt everything. Bubbles floated out of your nostrils as Kountz's grasp loosened. Suddenly, a pair of slim hands grabbed you by the shoulders.

You were pulled out of the water abruptly, causing you to cough harshly. The figure pulled you close, their hand resting on your head as they pushed you close to their chest. The warmth was familiar. But the smell was like home. Angus.

"Are you okay? Holy fuck. I'm so sorry." He rambled, his hands rubbing up and down your arms to warm you.

Kountz sat up in the jacuzzi, leaning backwards with his arms resting on the ledge. Angus's head snapped towards him. His lips scrunched into a thin line. He sat you up softly, standing up.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO GIVE HER HYPOTHERMIA? YOU FUCKING IDIOT!?" Angus flung his arms in the air, his hands on his head in anger.

Kountz rose to his feet, droplets of water dripped back into the jacuzzi.

"Fuck off, Tully. We're trying to party here, shitface. You're a like a mini fucking walleye now."

It's like a switch flipped in Angus. One second he was gently caressing you, the next he was swinging his fist into the side of Kountz face. He knocked him down to his knees, water splashing on his jeans. Angus hissed, stretching his hand and rubbing his stinging knuckles.

Everybody rushed over to Kountz, seemingly sobered up now. All Angus could do was rush to your side, lifting you up to your feet and rushing you inside the house. You shivered, tears falling down your face and water dripping down your sides. He directed the both of you into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and setting you down on the toilet seat.

He crouched down in front of you. Angus searched the cabinets for a towel, finding one and immediately wrapping it around your form. The feel of his hands on your body was enough to send you bawling. The dam of exhaustion had broke. You had been disrespected. You had been taunted. Now, you had been waterboarded in your nicest outfit.

"I'm-. . . I'm sorry!" You sobbed, covering your face with your hands. Your hair was still sopping wet.

"Why would you ever be sorry?" Angus grabbed your wrists softly, bringing your hands down to your lap. His gaze flickered between both of your eyes. He had a watery gaze, blinking tears away.

"I'm ruining your night-. . . EVERYONE'S NIGHT!" You hiccuped, sniffling solemnly. You hugged the towel closer. Angus kept it wrapped around your shoulders, pulling it up.

"You aren't ruining anything. You didn't do anything. That imbecile Kountz did this. I-I should be sorry. . . I wasn't there for you. I walked away." He looked away from you, rubbing a tear away from his cheek. His curls dangled atop your knees. His back leaned against the wall as he slumped backwards. His knees spread apart, your legs slotting between them. He kept both his hands on your calves; a gentle touch, softer than the pancakes you both would order at the Pleasant cafe. It made you feel safe.

"It wasn't supposed to be Kountz." You whispered, lip quivering. Your eyes couldn't look away from him. The bathroom lights buzzed lowly, a hum that reminded you of Angus's low singing.

"What?" He muttered, his face lifting up.

"It was supposed to be you." Your gaze softened at his features. After spending 3 hours with a future deadbeat (and some of that underwater), your heart longed for those moles and spots you could draw in your sleep. It was always supposed to be that face at the end of the day. "Ever since you nearly flattened me to the ground with your lanky legs, you have been the guy whose name I want to know like my own."

His eyes widened. He lifted himself to his knees. Angus slowly dropped his head to your lap, hugging your knees close to his chest. He sniffled, nuzzling his head close to your cold skin. His clothes had gotten damp but he didn't seem to care.

"I'm sorry." He glanced up, eyes peeking through his lashes. The whites of his eyes were red. His cheeks were puffy. He swallowed, "I'm sorry that I am an oblivious cow. Y/N, I may not have known before, but I know now; I know that I like you."

He licked his lips, gripping your thighs to accentuate his words.

"It's like- I'm being hit by wave after wave after wave of love for you. Like a super fucking delayed tsunami. I've always cared for you. I just thought that a friend is what you needed, and I wanted to be that for you. But after I saw you with Kountz earlier, I spent a lot of time thinking about you. Your voice is all I want to hear at night; your eyes are all I want to stare at; and your presence is something I think I need beside me for the rest of time. Call me jealous, but I don't want anyone else to have those things. Even now, when you look like the same tsunami hit you, I want you. Not anyone else."

You couldn't blink. You couldn't breathe. Not anyone else. Did your dreams finally come into reality? Did those diary entries work like manifestations? Angus Tully was on his knees confessing to you. It felt like all those butterflies had come back home. They fluttered from your stomach and around his head on your lap.

You placed your hands on either side of his face, thumb caressing his warm cheeks. His face melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

"You have all of me already, Tully. All to yourself." You hunched forward, leaning your forehead against his. His brown curls tickled the bridge of your nose. "What a start to the new year, huh?"

Angus chuckled. He looked down at his wrist, watch ticking slowly. Through the walls, chanting could be heard.

"8, 7, 6. . . !"

You rose to your feet and Angus followed your movement. The both of you watched each other closely.

"5, 4. . . !"

Your faces nuzzled closer. His hands rested gently on your hips.

"3!"

Your hands clasped at the back of his neck. His gaze flickered between your eyes and lips.

"2!"

Your eyes looked to his lips.

"1!"

Angus pulled you in for an hug, your head cozying into his warm neck. His hands traveled up your back and between your shoulder blades, pulling you impossibly closer. The purity of his embrace almost brought you to tears. You lifted your head, interlocking glances once again. The both of you were nervous, scared shitless even. Yet, you and Angus leaned close; and your lips touched. It was a small peck, but your heart had grown butterfly wings at the softness of his lips. The tip of his nose grazed your skin and you wondered how you lived months without that feeling.

The two of you pulled apart, faces red and dried with tears. Both of you giggled at your disheveled appearances. He smoothened your wet hair, passing his hand over the top of your head to the back of your neck.

"Happy New Year, Y/N."

"Happy New Year, Angus."

Fireworks popped in the distance. Cheering pulsated through the wallpapered walls.

You sensed it again, the beauty of seeing him in everything. Although, now you could feel it. His essence lingered in your heart; and it looked like pinball machines and wet clothes.

[finalgirlfae]

Can you write something where reader meets Mile’s parents for the first time as his gf?And they get along well:,))

meeting the parents, miles morales

genre: fluff

pairings: miles morales x fem reader

summary: you meet miles’ parents as his official girlfriend for the first time

notes: in my head the reader is afro latina like miles, and also my spanish is rough so bare with me for a second. also since people love to argue with me; before y'all start yes i know what the song is about🤗

“MILES i’m shitting bricks right now i’m so nervous.” you spoke to your boyfriend over facetime. two and a half months on a random new york city rooftop while the sun set, miles had asked you to be his girlfriend- officially. the two of you had been talking for about two months before he asked and now it was time for inevitable turning point in every relationship; meeting the parents.

you should be happy you made it this far! guys suck, but guys in new york city? they sucked even worse. so to meet a great guy who really liked you and wanted to introduce you to his parents was a major win. but there was a feeling eating at you, one that terrified you. what if his parents didn’t like you?

“what if i call platainos plantain and she tells me to get out of her house? i’m so scared-”

“baby, baby,” miles spoke from the phone on your dresser. you could hear the bustle of city traffic around him. “tómalo con calma mami, okay? you gotta relax.”

“tómalo con calma” you mimicked, “miles how can you tell me to take it easy? this is literally more stressful than our chem test last week.”

you heard miles wince over the phone. “you’re that nervous? yikes.”

you ran over to your phone and picked it up in panic. “what do you mean yikes??”

“nothing. look i’m outside, buzz me in.”

you sighed and walked out of your room to the living space, pressing the buzzer to open the door. miles would be up here in a minute and then you’d be on your way to meet his parents. his mom was making lunch for everyone.

you moved over to the mirror in your living room and gave yourself a good look, you didn’t want a single hair out of place when you met them. it was a warmer summer afternoon with the sun high in the sky, not a single cloud was in sight. to compensate the hot weather, you wore a faded green tank top with butterflies decorated on it with a clear quartz crystal necklace and denim skirt. your hair was in a ponytail, coils bunched tightly together and edges laid perfectly. you went over to the kitchen, opening the fridge door and getting the small bouquet of flowers you had bought for miles’ mom. they were pink and yellow tulips; her favorite according to miles.

when the door bell run you walked over, opening it to reveal your boyfriend. “hey baby.” he spoke, stepping into the apartment.

“hello my love.” you wrapped an arm around his waist, bringing the boy closer to you and leaning up on your tippy toes to give him a soft kiss. he smiled down at you, wrapping arms around your body and bringing you into another kiss. when you both pulled away he looked you up and down. “you look beautiful baby, those for me?” he joked, pointing at the flowers.

“thank you but no.” you gave him the flowers to hold and slipped on some air force ones, “these are for your mom.”

he gave you a big smile, kissing your temple. “that’s so sweet! very thoughtful, baby. she’s gonna love them- and you, let’s go.”

you couldn’t even respond before miles hand was wrapped around your wrist, tugging you wearily out of your new york city apartment. he barely gave you enough time to grab your purse before you two were walking down the street to the 2 train. five stops later you were walking out the station and to his apartment building.

“miles i’m scared.” you grimaced as you made your way into the elevator. he held your hand, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. “there is nothing to be afraid of mi querida.”

“qué pasa si a ellas no les gusto?”

miles only sighed at your question. “ellos van a. even on the impossible chance they don’t it wouldn’t matter to me, i like you.”

a small smile spread on your face. “you know you’re so corny right? you got no game.” you laughed as the elevator dinged and the door opened.

“yeah but i still pulled you didn’t i?” he asked, smirking to himself and holding your hand as you walked down to his apartment. your heart was beating out of your chest.

“aye aye,” miles turned to you. fuck, you forgot he could hear things like that. “mi amor, estará ben. breathe, okay? they’re just people.”

“yeah cariño but they’re your people. it’s important to me how this lunch goes.”

he smiled and kissed your cheek. “me too. let’s go.” miles used the hand that wasn’t in your to find his keys. he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. immediately your nose was hit with the smell of delicious food. there was music playing from the stereo under the tv, a song you recognized.

"mom, dad! estamos en casa!" he called out as he stepped out of his shoes. you did the same and hung your purse on a coat hook before taking the flowers from miles, he had held them on the way over.

a few seconds later his parents walked into the living room. miles nudged you and you walked over to meet them. "mom, dad, this is my girlfriend. y/n."

"hello." you smiled. "it's nice to meet you lieutenant and mrs morales." you shook his dad's hand before turning to his mom. "mrs. morales, these are for you." you handed her the bouquet and watched the smile spread on her face as she took them. she brought you into a hug, "it's nice to meet you too sweetheart, i've heard a lot about you."

when you two pulled away from the hug you could almost feel miles' smile, he knew that she'd like you. “y/n why don’t you sit down and miles you come help me bring the food out.”

“i can help you, ma’am."

she looked at you for a second before nodding. "thank you! the kitchen's that way." she pointed. you nodded and began walking. rio turned to look at miles, mouthing "she's very pretty" before following you into the kitchen. when you were both there miles and his father walked to set the table.

"so.." miles began. "what do you think?"

"i'm happy she's not white." his dad laughed, smacking his arm and making miles give him a face. he knew he was talking about his past situationship type thing with gwen. "come on dad seriously, what do you think of her?"

his dad placed down four glasses. "i think she's very nice, very pretty and well mannered. nice job."

you and rio walked back into the kitchen, both holding pots and pans.

"what did you make mami?" miles asked, pulling out a chair for you. when you sat down he smiled and pushed it in before sitting next to you. across from you two were his parents.

"i made mofongo, arroz con gandules, alcapurrias and some tostones. oh, and for dessert i made some quesitos."

"i love quesitos!" you exclaimed. she smiled at you. "i know, miles told me. you're panamanian, right?" she asked, sitting across from you and beginning to serve you some mofongo.

you nodded, thanking her and placing a napkin on your lap. "yeah, on my dad's side."

"what does your dad do?" lieutenant morales asked as he began to eat.

"he used to work nypd but he retired a few years ago, 20 years."

his dad nodded, seeming impressed.

as you began to ease into their presence, you eased into the conversation as well. everything felt so natural and soon all your fears were alleviated. miles parents were really nice and also funny as hell. besides that they were genuinely good people and you could understand why miles turned out to be the wonderful person he is. he had great role models.

as the meal winded down miles mom brought out two dozen fresh baked quesitos with powdered sugar on top. "careful." she said to you. "you might have to fight miles for them. his appetite has been insatiable lately."

you and miles both looked at each other, stifling laughter. just as you were about to respond the stereo distracted you.

un matrimonio africano esclavos de un el les daba muy mal trato

ya su negra le pegó español

"oh my god." you spoke standing up. all three of them looked at you. "what?"

el les daba muy mal trato y a su negra le pegó

"me encanta esta canción!" you grabbed miles' hands and pulled him into the living room.

y fue allí, se reveló el negro guapo tomó venganza por su amor yaún se escucha en la verja no le pegue a mi negra

as the music played, you and miles began to salsa dance around the living room. "you know for a superhero who's thing is being acrobatic, you're a surprisingly bad dancer." you teased, making sure to whisper.

no le pegue a la negra no le pegue a la negra

oye man no le pegue a la negra

miles sucked his teeth, "my thing is webs."

you gigled, "i bet you shoot them out your trasero."

"man shut up." miles laughed, grabbing your hands and doing a roomba as he spun you, "see," he asked, hands going back to your waist, "i ain't too bad."

lleva la cadena lleva la cadena

"you stole that move from me!" his dad exclaimed, pulling rio in by her waist and beginning to dance beside you two. the rest of the night was filled with dancing, laughter and conversation. it's safe to say miles' parents liked you, and that'd you'd be welcome for many more meals at the morales house.

[wintersera]

13 — first ever heat (fully written)

cw: smut, omega sub!minjeong, dom!reader, elements of ABO (omegaverse), hair pulling, begging, marking (biting/marking/scratches), mentions of blood, pup play but it’s literal.

wc: 2.2k

“help?” you pondered on her words. never in your life have you heard someone so desperate for…well, it was an estimated guess, but someone elses touch and more specifically yours. her voice was permeated with a honeyed lust which confused, yet brought you in closer to her body, scooting the chair towards her. awkward clattering sounds as you use your legs to come forward “so you want me to…” lowering your voice out of immense embarrassment “…relieve you?”

oh you were more than flushed, you were red from head to toe actually. you’ve barely known this girl for a week and here she was, pulling on your shirt, practically begging for you to do something. anything. literally anything.

“feels… feels funny- it feels all tingly and weird and it aches somewhere, but i don’t know where. and yeah... i want you to relieve me” her cute pretty puppy eyes began to tear up, the poor thing was disoriented as to why she felt an ungodly amount of heat rush to her core. if only someone could help her with… hmmmm. again you were confused, like what do you mean feels funny? is she perhaps… turned on? is what you assumed. who brings a girl to their house and tells them that their parents aren’t in- all of that just to study? okay right… now it makes sense why she was so excited to see you. 

a couple of minutes go by without any of you speaking. another minute of you wondering what to do, and another to let this all sink in. 

is she really asking for you to fuck her?

minjeong was on the verge of losing it all. clearly. almost so close to letting that small speck of rationality go, but there was still some humanity in her so she didn’t. annoyingly, it took you so damn long. you wanted to finish this session with ease, but now you were stuck in this godforsaken situation where the local loser in your class, who was unbearably adorable right now, was literally throbbing for you. just you. only you.

she huffed, tossing all her rational senses outside the window. the girl in front of you was no longer minjeong, she was completely changed. you could tell for sure. no longer was she that shy little pretty weirdo in the corner, but rather she was an obsessed puppy, perhaps. her eyes darkened and turned a dark shade of red. a deepish maroon.

skip the thinking, no more of that. you- you, only you- she wanted you. needed you. a craving for your scent, a thirst for your lips, a deep lust for your everything; the entirety of you. you and no one else. 

fuck it….

a moment goes by and she was sat on your lap, opening up your buttoned shirt for easy access, ripping the whole thing open with her bare hands. every single button that was previously attached flew off “m-minjeong.. what are you-“ your breath hitches. minjeong's tongue was flat against your skin, her breath hot and wet. it was hard to admit, only because this was new to you, but it felt heavenly “wait.. ah.. you’re acting odd”

“please.. let me have you” her sharp canines dug into the plush skin in the space between your neck and your shoulder, breaking your flesh. blood trickled down and stained the arm of your white shirt, not that you really cared. neither of your bodies listened to each other, if it wasn’t clear enough. although you could argue that, well, your hands? yeah you were awkward with them. to place them on her waist would be impure, oh how ironic of you to think of that. though they instinctively went to caress her sides anyway. you let her mouth roam around you as she so pleased, biting and sucking on your extremely sensitive skin. 

the position got awkward, your legs were beginning to feel numb and you wanted to move them, but she ushered you to stay in place by tightly gripping your arm. god she was strangely strong “f-fuck… ngh- minjeong enough. let me move my legs at least” zero response. she carried on marking your neck, to your shoulders, your collarbone and occasionally kissing up to your jaw, holding your face in place.

consumed by the feeling of her desperation, it was nearly impossible to notice that she was rutting on top of your thighs, which were now soaked with her wetness. you paid no mind to the bucking of her hips, that was until you heard a small tiny whimper escape from her mouth. you indulged in her sweet moans, helping her hips swing in the right manner

“hey…” eyes half lidded, observing her as she pulled away, a string of saliva breaking as she straightened her back “you said you needed my help, right?” 

“mhmmhm” voice high and whiney for only you to hear.

“so needy, like a cute little puppy. i’ll take care of you until you can’t stop thinking about me" lifting minjeong up from the chair was light work, scooping her up and gently laying her down onto the bed took little to no effort whatsoever. sprawled across her bed, demanding for you to come close with her sultry eyes. sparks lit up in your head, and also inebetween your legs, as you saw her peel her clothing one by one, only leaving her bra and panties on. you carelessly crawled from the edge of her bed to part her legs, grazing your hands across her body once more until your face was centimetres away from hers. unfamiliarity dawned, what do you do now? kiss her passionately?what kind of question is that.. of course you do, the situation called for it. 

took a while for you to notice but there was some sort of scent in the air, one that hadn’t been present before you came into her room. as perceptive as you are, you couldn’t quite note where exactly the aroma came from, but you could assume it was stuck onto the walls. It wasn't unpleasant, but rather arousing. the scent made you hazy. somehow it put you into a state of mind where your inner urges were brought forth. a hint of rich chocolate; ripe and plump strawberries.

you were taking too long for minjeong.. way too damn long. patience apparently wasn’t a thing for her, longing for the taste of your lips, she pulled you in by the shoulders. at first you melted into the kiss, sighing as you relaxed into the blissful moment. with time, it gradually became passionate. minjeong slid her tongue against your lips, an indication that she wanted much more than just simple pecks. it was her cue to let her do as she wants, to let her satiate greediness. 

minjeong was completely focused on your touch. she was all yours. you trailed up her abdomen, up to her chest. as your hand toyed with her tits, she couldn’t help but whimper softly into the kiss. it was only a light touch, a fondle perhaps, but that alone caused her to squirm. 

sighs and moans began slipping out of you too, the pleasure was too much for your inexperienced self. it can be said the same for minjeong as well. her legs wrapped around your waist, locking you in place, nowhere to go, you’d never leave her. only know you’d realise how soaked she was. hearing her small exclamations each time you bite her lip, getting to taste her, feeling her fingers dig in and scratch at your back; bleeding from how sharp they were. you were eager to learn about how she’d react if you played with her needy pussy. 

“cute.. minjeong you’re so fucking cute” a whine of displeasure when you pulled away when you breathlessly whispered in her ear.

“need… please… please use me roughly y/n. i can’t take it anymore” 

roughly....

doing as you were told, you stripped her of her soaked panties and tossed them aside somewhere in the depths of her room. having masturbated yourself, of course you have, you sort of understood the principle of fucking someone rough “how many puppy? how many fingers do you think you can take… tell me”

“t-two? y/n i don’t know. just please… i need to feel you inside of me… it hurts so much. want you to make it stop aching please” those words alone made you feel ecstatic. rough she says? how much can this pretty puppy be able to take, you wonder. a shy grin appeared slowly on your face- so glad to take her first ever experience, and glad to let your first be hers. fuck that project thing you were doing a few minutes ago, minjeong was your main priority. 

no second went by and your fingers already traced the entry to her cunt. minjeong hissed at the rawness of the sensation. you teased her sensitive clit, giggling to yourself about how hard she got from such a feathery touch. small circles were being rubbed across the tip of her clit, which of course earned a couple more whines and whimpers “more… more- mmmhmm y/n be rough, pleaseplease please i need you” who were you to deny such a needy pup. you rubbed her clit harder and faster- minjeong felt a weird drop in her stomach, one she had never felt before. something odd coursed through her body. strange sensations zapped from her core and spread throughout. her legs snapped around your waist tugging you into a tight embrace where she brought her head forward and bit you on the shoulder that wasn’t bitten. once again, drawing out blood.

“ow.. i think you’re ready now. you can take my fingers, right?” 

“mm.. mhm i think i can” heaving heavily as she catches her breath. 

“you were so quick to cum puppy, are you sure you want to-“ quickly cutting you off with another deep and passionate kiss to then pull back a few moments later “i’ll take that as a yes” as you eased two fingers inside of her dripping cunt to then curl them slowly, minjeong squealed as you began pumping them in and out.. in and out “god, you’re taking me in so well” to say that she was soaked was an understatement, sheets were soaked and her inner thighs were sticky with her slick. oh so messy and needy underneath your touch; she moaned cuss words under her breath as you decided to move to her chest, flicking her sensitive nipples with the tip of your tongue. 

“s-so deep… more. y/n go deeper… fuck me harder” you were already as deep as you can get. so deep that you swear that you could probably even touch the entrance of her cervix.

an idea popped into your head, you thought you could try positioning her better so you could fuck her the way she wanted to be fucked. 

“give me a second- let me move” you slipped out of her hole and another whine was accompanied by the loss of your fingers “stay still for me” you hooked her legs up to your shoulders, did it still sting from the bite? yeah maybe… whatever it's fine. now with her legs propped onto your shoulders, keeping her back arched off of the bed with you laying down, slowly kissing her neck to her shoulders, you trail a few opened mouthed kisses on her stomach. with her wetness, it was easy for you to slip back inside of her cunt. she did say rough and hard right? that's what you did- feeling as if two fingers wasn’t enough, you slid another one inside, stretching out her tight little pussy. 

“mmngh- aahh.. fuckfuck you’re so.. so deep, so deep please more.. use me more… harder~” a long lasting moan left her mouth. her eyes rolled to the back of her head as you kept pushing your fingers, the occasional scissoring of your fingers stretching her out even more than before “so good… aaahhn.. goodgood keep.. fuuuck, keep doing that mmmhhm” it really wasnt enough for her, she had to feel something much more than your fingers. her hands intertwined with your hair, pulling strands out of your low ponytail, “here.. tongue on here please… keep going” her grip increasingly strengthened on your head, ushering you to work even harder. your tongue messily circled around her clit, swirling it around and making her twitch in ecstasy “oh god.. feels- fuck, so good please please i need more of you, y/n please” your head spun, jaw almost locking and your arms aching from how fast you were pounding her needy pussy “y-y/n?”

“mmm.. yes puppy?” voice muffled in between licks and sucks. 

“s-something feels funny.. mmm i feel weird”

“don’t worry about it. it’ll feel so good. i promise” her cries began to shake, her legs began to tremble. inside of her tightened around your fingers and you knew she was about to cum hard around you.

"y/n? y/n nggh... fuck-" minjeongs whimpers heightened in octave, became louder and louder, until she couldnt keep it in anymore. her arms wrapped tightly around the back of your neck, screaming and crying your name and a bunch of thank you's until she fell silent. her head threw back viciously onto the pillow with a thud. then she became limp.

“a-are you okay minjeong?” dead silence. she might’ve passed out from the pleasure you think. that was your cue to tuck her in the bed sheets, of course after cleaning up the mess you had made. 

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[mylifeisfruk4ever]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAN IS...

Lois wasn't the party type. Oh, don't get her wrong, she didn't hate Christmas, nor did she lock herself away at home plotting to ruin the holidays for others.

Simply, unlike others, she didn't decorate her house as if her life depended on it, nor did she go to the shops looking for the perfect gift.

Why stress? After so much effort, either the gift will be recycled because it wasn't liked or it will be forgotten in a corner gathering dust.

That's why she didn't waste time on it.

Too bad it wasn't like this for everyone.

“Loiss!” Clark tackled her in the cafeteria, in his best impression of a golden retriever, puppy dog ​​eyes that would make even the most hardened criminal feel remorseful. 

If Lex Luthor was still a criminal in front of those big eyes, it really meant that he wasn't human.

“What is it, Smallville? Do you have to go out early again and want someone to cover for you with Perry?” she asked as she went to sit down. By now she'd lost count of the lies s told Perry to cover up Clark's absences - not that it did much good, since Perry always knew, but it was funny to see the face he made - but hey, it helped Superman do his hero stuff , it was her community service!

“No, nothing like that…just…it's two weeks until Christmas, and Bruce and I…”

“Put on a sexy Santa suit, with a sign on the underwear that says UNWRAP ME, and you'll make him happy,” she replied, with the most serious expression she could muster. 

Clark blushed like a tomato, and his embarrassment was quite adorable. Hey, if you don't want to hear certain things, don't go to your ex and ask what your new partner would like to receive. Even though Lois was having a blast and it allowed her not to think about how the food at the Planet really sucked and made her want to become a vegetarian, much to her mother's delight. 

“I-It's not about Bruce!” he stuttered, trying to fix his glasses before they fell off. “We're going to spend Christmas together this year, and I…I want to give his kids some presents.”

Ah, the joys of dating a single parent. The anxiety of wanting to impress your partner's children and hoping that no one is a meta with death ray powers. Even though there was very little that could hurt Superman. 

Plus, Clark had the easy game: his boyfriend's kids knew who he was, and the oldest was a huge Superman fanboy. Really, he could give the kid one of his old signed t-shirt and it would make him happy. 

“Well, with three kids…”

“Five,” he corrected her, and she nearly spat out the water she was drinking.

She blurted out, “Bruce Wayne adopted two more kids and no one knows about it?!”

[schrijverr]

Stiles as a Roommate

Classic outsiders POV of Stiles in college, where his roommate, Mike, and their other friends try to figure out who all these people are that keep calling Stiles.

On AO3.

Ships: Sterek

Warnings: they think Stiles is wrapped up in some bad shit (which valid tbh)

~~~~

Mike’s roommate is profoundly disturbing and highly hilarious to have around. On the first day he comes crashing into the room, tripping over himself like an old school physical comedy, before assuring Mike that he’s fine and it doesn’t even come close to being beaten to a pulp by a grandfather.

It’s quite the introduction and for a while Mike was worries that his roommate is going to suck. Stiles isn’t the typical college student, you see.

He has amassed an entire herb garden in the windowsill, skips out on most parties, keeps a metal baseball bat by his bed and calls home every single day. On top of that, he doesn’t know how to shut up and his rants devolve into the strangest bullshit about the most random topics that make Mike wonder why the hell criminology major had looked into them.

So, Mike thought he is stuck with a weird paranoid kid, who doesn’t know how to have fun. He worries about Stiles getting mad about him getting back in late or judgmental about not studying as much. However, his worries had soon been put to rest.

Because Stiles is fun and Stiles is easy. He can become anyone’s friend in minutes and is up later than healthy most of the time, doing weird bullshit on his laptop that he calls research, though Mike never knows what for.

He might not be a party-goer himself, but he absolutely doesn’t care about what Mike does, just jeering at him to use protection when he goes out and waking him up with a smug smirk and coffee when Mike wants to disappear into his mattress with a hangover, kicking his ass to classes.

Stiles is probably what is keeping him from failing right now and Mike will go to great lengths to keep him as his friend, because, yeah, they’re friends now.

It’s impossible not to befriend Stiles, he grows on you like a very persistent mold.

His friendship with Stiles starts six weeks into rooming together. Classes are in full swing alongside parties and Mike has just started to get worried about his roommate being a stick in the mud, when he comes home at 4:00 AM piss drunk.

Naturally he tries (and fails) to quietly enter the room, trying not the be the dickbag that wakes people up every night to find the lights still on. He blinks a few times at Stiles, who is sitting on his bed with a laptop and smartly says: “Huh.”

“God, you’re so fucking drunk it’s not even funny, dude. I can smell it from here and I don’t even have a freaky nose,” Stiles comments, before he gets up from the bed.

Mike sways slightly in the doorway, mentally trying to decide if he can do a stumble and drop to his bed or if he’ll sleep on the floor when Stiles is suddenly in front of him. He startles and nearly falls over, saved from faceplanting by Stiles, who is usually the one meeting the floor.

“Oh, hey, there, hey, buddy,” Stiles says, righting him. He slips an arm around Mike and masterfully stumble-drags him to the bed, depositing him on it. He points at Mike, who is still reeling from the movement and sternly says: “Don’t move,” as if Mike had any big plans.

Moments later he returns with a glass of water and gets Mike upright, telling him to sip and not allowing him to stop until the glass is empty.

Mike isn’t sure what happens next, but the next morning he wakes up with a groan to find two painkillers, a glass of water and a glass of orange juice on his bedside table along with a note reading: go to your classes! And you’re not a very eloquent drunk

In that moment, it feels like the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him, swiftly forgetting all his parents have done under the pounding headache. He takes his painkillers, drinks his drinks and actually manages to drag himself to his lecture, deciding that Stiles might not be so bad.

When he comes back from his class, Stiles is there, typing away on his laptop again. He greets Mike when he enters and Mike returns it: “Hey, dude. Thanks for the painkillers and stuff.”

“Yeah, man, no problem,” Stiles smiles back. “It’s just instinct at this point, I’ve had to drag worse people off to bed.”

It’s a bit of an odd reply, but something Mike can work with. “You friends with many party-goers?”

A strange look flits over Stiles’ face, but it goes as fast as it comes and Stiles says: “Something like that. I was the one with a car, who wasn’t a prick about it getting dirty on the inside when in crisis. I have passed up on many party experiences except the clean up. All my friends are idiots.”

Mike chuckles at that and plops down on his own bed, as he comments: “Do you have a big friend group back home?” See, he can have conversations, mom.

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles tells him with a grin. “We’re like a family. A very weird family.” A brief pause. “But how about you?”

“Nah,” Mike shrugs. “I’m making up for it now.”

“Yeah, I can see,” Stiles grins. “Alcohol is a poison, my man. Besides, I’m not sure you’re remembering the friends you made.”

The bluntness is something Mike has encountered before and turned him away, but it doesn’t sound mean. He remembers that he is going to try with Stiles, so instead of ending the conversation there, he shrugs: “Probably, but it’s fun while it lasts.”

“Come on, man, that’s not fun,” Stiles says. “I have some friends from introduction. We get fries on Thursdays and study on Sunday. You can come sometime, it’s fun.”

Okay, so the bluntness was genuine concern and Mike honestly could use some actual friends. He likes parties, they’re fun, but the loneliness is starting to get to him. So he replies: “Sure, sounds fun.”

“Hell yeah,” Stiles does a genuine fist pump and Mike snorts. Yeah, alright, maybe Stiles isn’t so bad at all.

“Why were you awake so late anyway?” Mike asks, suddenly remembering that Stiles was just sitting there when he stumbled in.

“Oh, Jackson called me,” Stiles says. “He’s in studying in at Cambridge, because his parents are pretentious fuckers. He needed to check in about… something and I was still awake. I had to look something up, I was just emailing him the details when you came in.”

“All the way in England?” Mike whistles, a bit impressed.

“Tsk, don’t let hear him that. Dick has a big enough ego as it is,” Stiles rolls his eyes.

“I thought you were his friend?” Mike says, a bit confused, because Stiles had literally picked up the phone at 4:00 AM for this guy, couldn’t be that much bad blood, could there?

“Surprisingly enough. He had a restraining order against me in high school for a while,” Stiles informs him casually, before realizing how that sounds and quickly amending: “Obviously, he revoked it, because it was completely unnecessary and a big misunderstanding. We’re cool now, promise.”

And that’s Mike’s cue to drop the conversation, giving Stiles a tight nod, before turning to his own work. He’s giving the other a chance, not inviting crazy. Though he does allow himself to be invited for fries on Thursday with Stiles’ friends.

There is Maya a shy, but enthusiastic biology major; Aalif, a kind but serious looking pre-law student; Nikki, a hilariously insane art major; and Kai a bit of a dorky English major. How Stiles had found this ragtag group Mike doesn’t know

“Mike,” he introduces himself. “I do history. I’m Stiles’ roommate,” before he’s pulled into a discussion about whether or not fries can be classified as a salad. (Potato salad exists, Mike, and it’s a side dish).

It’s honestly a lot more fun than expected and it’s nice to see that Stiles does know how to have fun, he just has fun arguing about nothing with someone studying to argue professionally instead of getting wasted.

While Mike doesn’t think he’ll keep away from parties entirely, he might cut back to make place for this. The genuine connection is way nicer than not remembering who you talked to, or if you even did.

They’re about to start opening the famous is cereal-soup debate when Stiles’ phone starts to ring. He nearly hits his head on the table as he dives to get it out of his bag, calling out a quick: “Sorry, guys, gotta take this real quick.”

But since he is stuck in a booth, all he can do is turn away from them as he greets: “Isaac, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

It’s not the most standard greeting and Mike raises his brow at the others, who all shrug. Apparently this has happened before. Mike watches as Stiles gets a reply, fascinated by how Stiles seems to melt, worries leaving him as he grins fondly, before practically cooing: “You missing me already? I am flattered, pup.”

He grins some more at what Isaac is saying, before raising a brow, voice turning into a tease: “I feel used here. Like a cheap replacement. You knew Scott was going to be busy with Allison, I even warned you. Not my fault no one in this p- family ever listens to me.”

Another reply to which Stiles says: “Yes, you heard correctly, I’m with friends, you can make those at college. I encourage you to try.”

An eyeroll at Isaac’s answer, then a sigh: “Yes, Isaac, having your own friends will get their attention again. But try also for yourself, meeting new people is fun. Maybe you even meet someone you like.”

“Bye, Isaac,” Stiles says pointedly, it sounds faintly like Isaac is protesting his departure, but he hangs up on him.

“Sorry about that, you know how they can get,” Stiles grins, trying to play it off, while Mike tries to ignore how much it sounds like the conversation he had with his mom last week, before deciding to join the others in not commenting.

And after that it their friendship takes off until they’re at the ‘waking him up with a smug smirk and coffee when Mike wants to disappear into his mattress with a hangover, kicking his ass to classes’- stage.

Turns out that if you’re closer to Stiles, he’s even weirder. He goes home pretty often, now that he has settled in alright, nearly every other weekend, at least once a month, though he complains about his dad forcing him to stay at college to get the full experience, air quotes obvious in his voice.

Mike doesn’t say anything, since he kind of agrees with Stiles’ dad. It’s a bit unhealthy how much Stiles’ calls home. Or at least, Mike thinks he does, though it always sounds like it’s someone else on the phone, because Stiles will tell the same story a bunch of times or tell the person that another person told him to tell them etc, like they couldn't call themselves.

The conversations are also just weird. Stiles cuts himself off sometimes, sending Mike looks, or he’ll fuss over whoever is on the other side of the line like he’s their therapist, or their fucking mother. Not to mention the fact that he always – always – picks up.

Mike has tried to call Stiles a few times, a lot of the time his roommate won’t pick up, or call back apologetically, yet he’ll leave a lecture if someone from home calls.

It’s just odd.

So, brave soldier as he is (as well as the head investigator of their little friend group, who are all more curious about Stiles than Mike expected when he first met them), he asks: “Hey, man, who are you always calling?”

Stiles look up from where has just hung up with a: “You be careful okay? I love you,” looking a bit confused, before smiling and shrugging: “That depends, honestly. It’s a bit much.”

That sounds like a deflection, but Mike is curious and got better at talking to people and standing up for himself. So, he goes: “I have time. I’m smart. I think I can take it.”

“Alright,” Stiles shoots him another uncertain look, before starting, “Well, my dad and Derek are holding down the fort, so I call them just to see how life is going. Boyd and Erica are there too, so I call them too, but Boyd doesn’t talk much, so I mostly call with Erica. She is my Catwoman, you know, we chat, she spills about Boyd. He has his own carpentry shop, it’s been going well. I’m glad for him, you know. And Erica is taking a gap year, but to be honest, I think she likes being a park ranger too much to ever go back to school.”

Mike nods along to Stiles’ rambles. His dad is explainable and the fact that he added Derek in there must mean they’re a unit in his mind, maybe a brother? Or even his father’s boyfriend. Erica is someone he’s close with and knows well, called her his Catwoman, so maybe girlfriend? But he connected her to Boyd, who sounds like a far friend of sorts, so maybe not.

“Of course there is Jackson in England,” Stiles continues on happily. “I told you about him. He is a bit of a dick, but we’ve forgiven him. Well, Lydia did and we all trusted her and it worked out okay.”

And yeah, Mike remembers Jackson with the apparent restraining order and wonders who Lydia is. Luckily he doesn’t have to wait long.

“Lydia,” Stiles sighs, making Mike think he loves her, which he naturally immediately disproves by going, “I used to be in love with her, but turns out, no. She’s being an absolute genius doing mathematics at CalTech. She terrifies me in the best ways.”

That’s not concerning at all.

“And then you have Scott, my best friend,” Stiles rambles on and Mike knows that the other probably won’t even notice if he leaves. He gets like that. “Now my man Scott is at Colorado State

to become a vet alongside Allison and Isaac.”

Those two names are also familiar and Mike feels awkward staying silent, so he says: “They’re all become vets?”

“No, just Scott, but they’re all at Colorado State, because Scott will probably perish without Allison and Isaac hates being lonely and didn’t get into Stanford with me,” Stiles says, like that’s the most obvious reason to pick a school.

Mike is distracted by Stiles hitting his arm enthusiastically: “Allison is also doing history, man, I hadn’t even thought of that! I don’t know how it would be relevant either, but you know, fun fact! I love fun facts, like did you know that human teeth are the only part of the body that can’t heal themselves, because enamel is dead tissue. That was fun to find out.”

He senses that there is a story there, but Stiles is already moving on: “And Isaac, my beautiful boy, is doing social studies, which I think will really help him. He’s come so far and he’s really happy with his courses.”

Isaac was the one that called during that first Thursday fries run Mike was a part of. He recalls the nicknames and the fact that Isaac was missing Stiles, not to mention how fond Stiles sounded and the fact that Isaac wanted to go to college with him. Maybe Isaac was the boyfriend?

“Anyways,” Stiles ends his rant. “I told you it’s a bit much, but I like knowing they’re okay and getting by and if I only call one, the others will get jealous. There’s only so much Stiles to go around and everyone wants a piece,” he grins.

Mike thinks Stiles has a weird relationship with his friends from back home, but also that he doesn’t want to create any friction with his roommate and best friend on campus, so he just nods and smiles a bit.

“But how about you?” Stiles returns the question. “You never call home, at least, not that I’ve witnessed.”

Since Stiles decided to share, something he rarely does, Mike knows he should return the favor, so he shrugs. “Not really much to call.”

“Is no one there?” Stiles asks, all concern.

“My mom and dad are, but you know,” Mike shrugs. “Dad just cares about my grades and mom is always prying, like she thinks I can’t manage by myself or something. It’s fucking annoying. I’m an adult now, she doesn’t need to hover.”

Stiles frowns at his reply, then bites his lip as if he isn’t sure he should say something, before he breaks and blurts: “But isn’t that nice? To have someone who worries?”

“What?” Mike hadn’t thought Stiles would pick his mom’s side, though maybe he should have seen it coming.

“I mean, I don’t know your situation of course, but I get it,” Stiles shrugs, backing off a bit. “You’ve always been her baby, who she saw every single day and knew when you had a bad day, when you got a good grade, etc, now she has nothing and you don’t tell her, so her mind makes up all the horrible things that could have happened to you between calls, resulting in what is practically an interrogation until she is satisfied that you’re truly as okay as you claim you are… Wow, that was one hell of s sentence,” Stiles ends his keen observation with a joke to lighten it up a bit, since he got way too into that.

Mike attempts to wade through the sea of words just slung to his head, before he realizes Stiles kind of has a point. He breathes: “How do you even know that?”

Stiles scratches his nose and shrugs: “I might be a bit of the mom-friend.” And Mike is reminded of the fact that Stiles is really weird with his friends and that he probably knows that because he does the exact same thing his mother does.

Next Sunday, he reports all this to the study group, which Stiles has had to skip out on, because someone called at midnight, which obviously meant Stiles immediately packed is bags and left, something that is more common than Mike would like.

“That’s a lot of friends,” Maya comments once he is done. “But it’s sweet he cares so much about them.”

“He cares mom-levels about them,” Mike points out. “I’m telling you, he got so intense while defending my mom, like it was personal.”

“So, he’s a bit intense about is friends,” Nikki shrugs. “One girl in my class is making a shrine to her boyfriend as a final project. We’re not at that level yet, so I think we’re good.”

“He took off in the middle of the night on a three hour drive, because someone called,” Mike replies.

“I don’t think it’s really any of our concern,” Aalif interrupts, before it can get out of hand.

“But what if they’re like a creepy cult or something?” Nikki asks.

Aalif levels her a look as he says: “I don’t think Stiles would get drawn into a cult.”

“You don’t know that,” she raises a brow. “It happens, even to smart people like Stiles.”

“He has a metal baseball bat by his bed,” Mike offers, not sure why he is backing Nikki in this debate.

“He does?” Maya asks, a bit concerned.

They all now look at Mike and he suddenly realizes that they’ve never been into their room, which is why he has become Stiles source number 1. He shrugs: “Yeah, he took it with him when he left for home tonight. It’s all damaged and shit, though I think some carvings are intentional. They look a bit like runes.”

Nikki raises a brow as she looks at Aalif and says: “But you don’t think Stiles could have joined a cult.”

“I don’t think a cult would have allowed him to leave for college, not to mention do criminology,” Maya offers. “I think he’s following a seminar about cults right now actually.”

“Okay, but even without a cult, still suspicious and weird,” Nikki huffs. “And it’s still a possibility, right, Mike?”

Mike startles a bit unsure how he got on the pro-cult side and not sure he isn’t agreeing. “I mean, he does have all these herbs and some weird books, but those could be from the library.”

And now they’re giving him more looks. Great. He puts his hands up defensively: “It’s not like I know, alright. Stiles never exactly cooks, maybe he just likes the smell of the herbs. And the books could be an aesthetic thing, though he keeps him under his bed in a box if they’re his.”

“What sort of books?” Kai asks after a beat.

“They’re leather bound. Old,” Mike shrugs. “I haven’t seen him with them much. He shoves them out of sight when I get in and the only times he hasn’t was when he thought I was asleep or very drunk.”

“Creepy,” Maya shivers.

“Come on, this is Stiles,” Aalif says. “He is not in some creepy cult. Do you all even hear yourselves? Seriously. Now, the midterms are coming up and I would like to get some passing grades.”

That gets a few boos and boring’s thrown at him, but Aalif doesn’t falter and they do all giggle a bit at the ridiculousness of Stiles in a cult. Before they can truly get anything done, Nikke snorts: “Maybe he tripped into it,” sending them all into giggles again.

It isn’t a joke anymore when Stiles reappears again on their Thursday fry run his face more bruise than skin and his hands both wrapped in bandages.

“Stiles!” Kai exclaims, already out of his seat. “What happened to you?”

“Hey there, guys,” Stiles attempts a grin, wincing at the action. “I’m good, I’m good.” He eases himself into their booth, wrapped fingers taking some fries and popping them into his mouth as the rest watches him with careful eyes. Of course he notices as he chews slowly, whispering to himself: “Knew Derek was right about the liquid diet. Fucker.”

“What happened?” Aalif asks when Stiles seems like he is going to ignore the whole situation that is his face and hands. “Stiles, if someone did this to do, you have to go to the police, file a report. You can sue.”

“Of course you’d say that, lawyer-man,” Stiles grins again, falling flat once more when his already split lip, re-splits and starts to bleed. “Ah, fuck,” he hisses, grabbing a napkin to press against it as he makes a disgruntled face.

“Stiles,” Nikki snaps.

“What?” he replies as if it’s not incredibly obvious.

Mike surprises himself by jumping in: “What the hell happened to you, man?”

It dawns on Stiles that they’re not letting it go and he sags a bit in his seat. Then says: “Nothing, I promise. It was just an accident, really.”

That’s just a thousand red flags there and Maya takes the lead for them, putting a hand on Stiles shoulder and saying in a soft voice: “We’re not going to judge you, promise. But right now, not knowing is so much worse.”

“Derek told me not to come,” Stiles sighs after a moment. “I knew it was stupid, but I wanted to come. I mean, he only had Boyd and Erica with him, because all the others were too far away. That wasn’t enough.”

“What were they doing?” Nikki asks, unable to keep her mouth shut and be patient.

Luckily, Stiles isn’t silenced by it. “Derek lives on the preserve, it’s in the middle of the forest and something was killing the animals. It was a mountain lion, we have a lot of animal attacks. They wanted to take it out before it moved into the town.”

Mike remembers Stiles telling him Erica was a park ranger, but Boyd was a carpenter and he knew nothing about Derek, which is weird on its own. Stiles loved bragging about his friends, or would casually comment about them or pick up the phone with their name on his lips, but Mike had before now heard the name Derek only once.

“Of course I tripped over a few branches in the dark,” Stiles laughs self-deprecatingly. “I should have known better. I’m a klutz, you know. Though I did get a hit in, before I went down in a not so glorious blaze of branches and a curse.”

“You hit a mountain lion?” Kai whisper yells.

“Yeah, with my bat,” Stiles shrugs, like it’s a normal thing.

“Dude, are you insane?” Mike asks.

“Oh, okay, I see what’s happening here,” Stiles backs up, like they didn’t make sense before now. “I didn’t want to admit I fell, because it’s embarrassing as fuck. And like, I know I’m clumsy, but after all the running away from shit trying to kill me, one would think I’d have gotten better at it, but noooo. I am surrounded by people who can do crazy shit, while I hit my head on a fucking branch, because why not.”

“Stiles!” Nikke cuts him off. “Running away from things trying to kill you? What the hell.”

“I was getting there,” Stiles says, though it’s obvious to all of them that he was getting further and further away from the point. “When I was in high school there were all these murders in town. My friend was targeted at one point, I got caught up in it. Nothing makes a friendship like getting locked into a school and running from a crazed murderer or holding someone up in a pool for two hours. It was a whole thing. Plus my father is the sheriff.”

“What the fuck,” Nikki voices the shared sentiment after a moment to process.

“Wait, here I have proof,” Stiles taps away on his phone, before showing a news article with the tagline reading: Five teens trapped in high school with murderer still on the loose

After letting them read it, he puts his phone in his pocket and proudly says: “We’re having a project about crimes in our hometown right now and I have an advantage over the rest.”

“That’s- That’s not-” Maya stutters. “…Stiles…”

“What?” he says confused, as if what he just bragged about isn’t heartbreaking. God, no wonder he’s a bit fucked from it all. Mike would want to know if all his friends are okay if he nearly saw them all killed alongside him.

“Are you, like, okay?” Mike asks.

“Probably not, like in general,” Stiles tells him honestly, “but I am really fine. As fine as I get anyway. Derek says I have to work on that, but he’s not the boss of me and I actually am doing better. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Maya smiles kindly. “We just want to know you’re okay. Thanks for trusting us with that. Did you get those wounds checked out?”

“I did,” he returns her smile. “Got a clean bill of health and everything. Dad wouldn’t let me drive back before that.”

“Good,” Aalif says.

They’re all quiet for a moment, before the thing that has been niggling on his mind comes out. He asks: “Who is this Derek person anyway?”

Stiles regards them all for a moment, before saying: “I don’t think we reached that level of friendship yet. Sorry. Like, you’re all my friends and stuff and I like bragging about my other friends to you, but I don’t know.”

“What?” Mike exclaims as Nikki points out: “You just told us you nearly got murdered, but telling us about a friend is a step too far?”

“You know, that is actually a good point,” Stiles says. “I must still be a bit lightheaded from everything, I normally don’t tell people that.”

“Should we take you to a hospital? Kai asks worriedly.

“No, no, I’m kidding, I think,” Stiles jokes, before quickly adding, “I am truly kidding, please don’t take me to a hospital. God, no one appreciates my humor.”

“Stiles,” Aalif sighs tiredly when Stiles deftly gets them on a different topic than Derek.

“Derek is my husband,” Stiles finally tells them, shutting them all up as they stare at them with their jaws on the floor. That explains Stiles trips home and lack of partying or otherwise getting laid, he had a whole fucking husband waiting for him at home.

None of them could know that Stiles’ reluctance to talk about Derek and his relation is that as a prominent alpha, broadcasting that they were ‘mated’ (and yes, Derek, that term is still weird to a human) isn’t really smart. Especially after everything that had already come to Beacon Hills.

“Y- Your husband?!?” Kai squeaks.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you all,” Stiles groans. “You can’t imagine the rumor mill at home when it happened, like seriously, people were acting like I was signing my life away to the devil or something.”

“Why?” Maya asks and Mike has to agree. Marriage so early isn’t exactly uncommon, it just took them by surprise this time. What would make this different.

“I-” Stiles looks genuinely sheepish, “I might have gotten him arrested for a murder he didn’t commit and stuff. But that was like, what? Two, three years ago.”

Immediately their table exploded, voices overlapping, because – again – what the fuck.

“He didn’t do it!” Stiles exclaims, shutting them all up. “He was framed. Set up. Look, I know he wasn’t the killer. Derek saved my life, like a bazillion times at this point. I love him.”

Despite the bruises, the look on his face is quite clear with love oozing off of it. Like full on, ‘Disney princess, soulmate, found the one’-love. It’s a bit disgusting in Mike’s terribly single opinion.

“Well, then I want to see him,” Nikki demands. “You can’t tell us you got swept off your feet by a mysterious would be murderer and not expect us to want to see him.”

Stiles shoots them all a suspicious look, which is pretty rude all things considering, but Mike lets it slide in favor of satiating his curiosity. Then Stiles pulls out his phone, showing them a sequence of pictures that said more than words could.

It’s obviously their wedding day. They’re both in full suits, standing in a forest with the sunset hitting them, putting them in a glow of light. Derek is apparently a handsome, muscled man, who screams not bad boy as much as serial killer.

The first picture is pretty standard. They’re looking at each other, Derek’s bad boy vibe killed by the fact that he is smiling softly at Stiles, who is smiling back. Derek’s smile is toothachingly fond in a way that Mike feels in his chest.

In the second picture, the murder vibes are back in full force, with Derek glaring at Stiles, who looks like he’s saying something, his face smug like it’s an inside joke, his hands up to gesture like he always does.

Then, in the last picture, Stiles has Derek’s cheeks between his hand, face contorted in something Mike would call a coo, if Derek didn’t look like the kind of guy who would allow anything resembling a coo being directed at him. Though, Mike might have to rethink that assumption, because while Derek is raising one murderous eyebrow, the smile has returned again.

“I am his favourite annoyance,” Stiles announces proudly. “It’s wonderful how much bugging someone can do.”

And all of them would have guessed Derek was the one, who had pursued Stiles, but here Stiles is, telling them all about how he is a master at befriending people and Derek honestly needed someone to tell him how horrible he was at decorating or socializing, before fixing it for him.

Beside him, Nikki mutters: “Dear god, he has an ‘I can fix him’-mentality. We’re doomed.”

“I heard that!” Stiles exclaims indignantly, though he doesn’t deny it per se. But when Nikki’s soda arrives, it explodes in her face and Mike would almost suspect Stiles had something to do with it if he had to go off the smug look.

They drop the topic of Stiles injuries and apparent husband, for the evening, which Stiles seems grateful for at least, before catching him up on campus gossip. Still, they keep their eye on him and it’s hard to forget with his face all fucked up.

When they leave, Maya leans in and whispers to Mike: “Keep an eye on him for us, okay?”

He nods quickly, before hurrying after Stiles, who is yelling at him to hurry or he’ll drive back without him.

Mike also keeps his word, so when Stiles’ phone starts to ring, he pretends to be engrossed in his book, while secretly keeping an ear on Stiles’ conversation. He usually doesn’t listen in, unless something is so weird it breaks through his mental barriers, but he feels like this can be an exception.

“Hey there, big guy,” Stiles greets, voice much gentler than Mike ever remembered it being.

“Yeah, worrywolf, I’m fine,” Stiles tells whoever is on the other side. “Dad wouldn’t have let me drive otherwise and neither would you for that matter. You checked me yourself before letting me go, quite thoroughly I might add.”

And that last part is definitely an innuendo, dear god, Mike did not want to know that. However, it is confirmation that it’s Derek on the line, so he listens even harder.

“I know I overdid it, but no one got hurt except a few bruises on me,” Stiles argues. “And I get hurt even when I’m not in danger, you know how doors and the air are my biggest enemies. Come on, Derek. If it was bad, I would have told you. We promised remember? You made it part of our vows, because you are a complete softie.”

Okay, Mike isn’t going to lie, that’s actually pretty cute and he slightly hates that he’s becoming team Derek when all he knows is that he was (falsely) arrested for murder and married to Stiles, who comes running home when called on.

“I promise not to run into danger again,” Stiles tells Derek. “Well, I promise not to run needlessly into danger again and honestly one could argue that this time wasn’t needlessly, because you are my damsel in distress as much as you want to cast me in that roll.” A beat. “Yes, I will never let you forget the pool, we discussed this.”

“Yes, Derek, I always take care of my wounds,” Stiles rolls his eyes. “I’ll even send you picture updates and call you every day. How does that sound?”

Oh god, Derek is actually a concerned boyfriend – excuse me, husband – who needs updates and called the day Stiles left because he was worried. Mike is never going to be able to tell the others that without it turning into a riot.

“Great, because I am going to bed,” Stiles says. “Midterms are coming up and while spending time with you is a hundred times better, I actually need to pass these if I ever want to get a degree. So, goodbye, I love you.”

A bit of silence, then a very love-filled chuckle: “Of course I’m going to think of you. I always sleep better with you, you know that. Now bye. Love you, again and always.”

Fucking hell, Mike is going to die of a toothache, caused by his happily married roommate, which is honestly where his life is at right now.

Though, Mike can honestly live with a weird roommate. It’s a source of entertainment and he now can rest knowing Stiles has someone watching out for him, preventing him from going off the deep end, which was an honest concern.

Stiles is weird, but with what Mike knows, he’s allowed to be a bit strange and he honestly doesn’t want to know more than he does.

~~

A/N:

Disclaimer: I am not shitting on parties, if you like them, go nuts. I just don’t drink and hate social interaction, so I wouldn't know how to write a good party scene even if I wanted to, lmao.

Idk how well it came through, but Stiles is magic and burned his hands while overdoing it in the fight he got injured in. He also totally exploded Nikki’s drink as petty revenge, his herbs are also related to magic.