#the first time i did this i passed out in my parents' kitchen trying to get to pain meds

[penkura]

PENKURAAAAA

I love your writing, especially for Law and Zoro. I'm also a sucker for the parent fics you do. What if reader and Law/Zoris kids were to surprise reader on their birthday? What would they do? How would they do it? Maybe reader thinks everyone forgot their birthday but the crew is actually just in on the surprise? Thanks for reading friend, I would love to see what you think ^^♡

HIII THANK YOUUUU I'm so glad you like the parent fics, they're some of favorite to write. 😊

I didn't think I'd finish this in time to post on my birthday but I did!! I wasn't sure where to go at first so I just started typing and this is what I've got!! I'm pretty happy with it myself, so I hope you like it too!! ����

Law

Law has never forgotten a birthday or anniversary ever since you first got together. His ability to remember every date leaves you impresses every time, especially after your son and daughter were born, he kept every important date in the front of his mind so her never forgot. He intended to celebrate every important, special day so you and your kids knew how much he loved you. You make sure to do the same for Law, even if he’d rather you not celebrate his birthday, the grins he gets from your children every year make it worth remembering the day.

That’s why it’s very strange to wake up on your birthday without Law in your bed with you, or even your son Rosinante yelling ‘happy birthday’ to wake you. Your daughter Cora is still learning to talk, but even she would already be in your bed and giggling to help get you up for the day. It’s odd, you’re not sure what to think as you start getting ready for the day, still no sign of your family or the other Heart Pirates around. Once you leave your room, it’s oddly quiet but you pass by a few of your crewmates on your way to Law’s office, expecting him to be there at least. None of them say anything about your birthday, Bepo and Ikkaku seem a little antsy when you greet them, though you don’t think anything of it, even when they try to guide you to the kitchen instead.

You don’t go with them, saying you’d like to see your family first, opening the door to Law’s office and being surprised at what you see. Law at his desk is normal, even with your daughter sitting in his lap, but what’s different is the amount of streamers across the walls and floor, wrapping paper pieces mixed in, your children busy scribbling away on paper likely making cards for you.

It's so early you can’t believe the two are awake, especially seeing how Law appears to he asleep, his hat over this face and leaning back in his chair, but still holding little Cora so she can sit up and continue coloring.

Of course he wouldn’t forget, he was probably trying to surprise you, keeping things a secret and bringing your children to his office so you could sleep in while he got things together. That would also explain why most of your crewmates seemed anxious around you, they didn’t want you to figure it out too soon.

“Mama!”

When Rosi sees you, he’s torn between excited and upset, you weren’t supposed to see anything yet and the five-year-old was doing his best to keep everything secret after Law brought up your birthday and making cards for you. He pouts a little, but still jumps up to hug you, which you return.

“You weren’t s’pposed to see yet…”

Quietly laughing, to not wake Law even though Cora is starting to whine when she sees you, you hug Rosi a bit tighter before kissing the top of his head.

“You’re so sweet! I’m sorry I saw everything, sweetie!”

Rosi whines this time, telling you that you’re hugging him too tight, before you let him go and move to pick up Cora, who squeals when you do so and kiss her cheeks. Law doesn’t even wake at that, you wonder if he actually slept last night or not.

“You’re all so wonderful, I’m so blessed to have you guys.”

Rosi makes you promise not to tell anyone that you know, and you’re still surprised later that day at how big the party is. Law tells you later that your son thought it up, he just helped put it all together with the rest of your crew. No one finds out that you knew, Rosi keeps it a secret too and even when your daughter nearly drops her piece of cake on your shirt, it’s still the best birthday you’ve had in a while.

Zoro

While Zoro isn’t the best at remembering dates, your birthday is one he never forgets, no matter how long you’ve been together or how many other important days come and go. You know your captain and crew well enough that anything worth celebrating gets a huge party, birthdays are no exception, especially so after your daughter’s birth a few years ago. Every first for little Kuina was celebrated as only the Straw Hats could, food and drinks galore, even though she’d be confused by what was happening.

When she’s four-years-old and your birthday comes around again, Kuina is adamant on you having a big surprise party, even when Zoro tells her you aren’t the biggest fan of surprises (your unexpected pregnancy with her being an exception). She’ll pout and fuss until Zoro finally agrees, enlisting Nami and Sanji to get everything planned but not tell him the details. He trusts them to get everything planned, Kuina being their biggest help, but Zoro doesn’t want to know anything, so he doesn’t potentially spoil you on the surprise.

Kuina is better at keeping the secret than anyone else. If you ask her what she’s doing, when she grabs all her paper and coloring supplies, she just tell you she’s going to make a map with aunt Nami. That’s not unusual so you don’t question it, she does bring you her own map later that day anyway.

When your birthday finally comes around, neither Zoro nor Kuina says anything, they aren’t even around when you wake up that morning. Not uncommon though, everyone normally lets you sleep in on your birthday, but usually Zoro is there and Kuina comes running in after a few minutes to wake you both.

Once you’ve dressed and gotten ready for the day, you head for the kitchen, but you’re confused when no one you pass says anything to you apart from a good morning. Usopp just grins and says it, Franky does the same. Luffy is barely audible as he runs off to wherever, dragging Jinbei along with him. It really makes you wonder if they’ve all forgotten what today is. You don’t see anyone else until you get to the kitchen, only to have streamers from party poppers hit you in the face, hearing Kuina say ‘oops’.

“You weren’t supposed to do it in her face, Kuina!”

“Sorry, daddy!” Kuina gives you an apologetic look before she smiles, “Sorry, mommy! Happy birthday!!”

Once you’re able to see the kitchen better, there’s streamers and balloons round the room, your favorite breakfast all made and ready, a cake in the middle of the table, and every member of your crew there, you figure Luffy and Jinbei had slipped in behind you. They all give you their birthday wishes, and it nearly makes you cry which makes Zoro smirk at you.

“Now don’t cry about it. It was all your daughter’s idea.”

“Shut up, Zoro.” You may be near tears but the smile you have tells everyone you’re happy, as Kuina comes out and hugs you with a pout.

“Mommy, don’t cry! I made you a picture!!”

It’s childish work of course, she’s only four, but it’s still an adorable picture she’s drawn of the two of you, making you hug her back and lift her off the ground.

“Thank you so much, Kuina. I love it!”

You never question if any of them have forgotten your birthday again, expecting it to be due to Kuina having her own little plans for your special day. You’ll have to do the same for her next year now.

[rubythecrimsonwriter]

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[lev1hei1chou]

When their child wants a sibling

Dad!Gojo x reader, Dad!Nanami x reader Genre: Fluff Masterlist Requests open!

GOJO SATORU

"Mommy, can I have a sibling?" your five-year-old daughter, Hikari, asked as she plopped down next to you on the couch, her eyes wide and hopeful. You were in the middle of reading a book, and the sudden question caught you off guard.

Gojo, who was lounging on the other end of the couch, immediately perked up. "A sibling, huh?" he mused, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "That sounds like a great idea."

You shot him a look. "Satoru, we need to talk about this first."

"But Mommy," Hikari interrupted, "all my friends at kindergarten have siblings. I'm the only one who doesn't."

You sighed, closing your book and putting it aside. "It's not that simple, sweetheart. Having a sibling is a big responsibility."

Satoru scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "She's right, Hikari. It means sharing your toys, your room, and your parents' attention. Are you ready for that?"

She nodded vigorously. "Yes! I promise I'll be the best big sister ever. I can even help take care of the baby!"

You looked at Gojo, who was trying to not laugh. "Well, I suppose we can think about it."

"Yay!" Hikari cheered, jumping off the couch and running around the living room in excitement.

Gojo leaned in and whispered in your ear, "Looks like we're in for some fun times ahead."

Later that evening, after Hikari had been put to bed, you and Gojo sat in the kitchen, sipping tea. "Do you really think we can handle another kid?" you asked, looking over at him.

"Of course we can," he replied confidently. "We're a great team, and besides, Hikari will make an awesome big sister."

You smiled, feeling reassured by his words. "I guess we could start trying."

Gojo's grin widened. "That's the spirit! And, you know, the trying part is the most fun."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help laughing. "You're impossible, Satoru."

A few weeks later, you found yourself in the same spot on the couch, Hikari sitting on your lap this time, telling you all about her day at kindergarten. Your husband was, as usual, lounging next to you, pretending to be deeply interested in a magazine.

"Mommy, did you and Daddy think about what we talked about?" Hikari asked suddenly, looking up at you with her big, innocent eyes.

You exchanged a glance with Gojo, who gave you a slight nod. "Yes, we did," you said. "And we decided that we're going to try to give you a sibling."

Her face lit up with joy. "Really? When?"

"Well," Gojo began, putting down his magazine, "it might take some time. Making a baby is a little complicated."

Hikari frowned, clearly not understanding. "But you can do it, right?"

Gojo chuckled. "Yes, we can do it. You just have to be patient, okay?"

"Okay!" she agreed, and then ran off to play with her toys.

You turned to Gojo, who was trying to suppress his laughter. "You're enjoying this way too much," you said.

"I can't help it," he replied. "It's just so cute seeing her so excited."

Days passed, and Hikari kept asking every now and then about her future sibling. Every time, her dad would give her some humorous yet evasive answer, like "We're working on it," or "These things take time."

One day, you and Gojo sat Hikari down for a serious talk. "Baby, we have some news for you," you began, holding her small hands in yours.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Mommy is going to have a baby," you announced, watching her reaction closely.

She gasped, her face lighting up with excitement. "Really? I'm going to be a big sister?"

"Yes, you are," Gojo confirmed, ruffling her hair. "But remember, it means you'll have to be very patient and very helpful."

"I will! I promise!" Hikari declared, hugging both of you tightly.

As the months went by, she was true to her word. She helped pick out baby clothes, decorated the nursery, and even tried to learn how to change diapers on her dolls. Gojo, ever the doting husband and father, made sure you were comfortable and happy, always ready with a joke or a warm hug.

One evening, as you all sat together in the nursery, she looked up at you and Gojo and said, "Thank you, Mommy and Daddy, for giving me a sibling. I can't wait to meet them."

You smiled, tears of joy in your eyes, and pulled her close. "You're going to be the best big sister ever, Hikari."

Gojo wrapped his arms around both of you, his voice soft and full of love. "And we're going to be the best family ever."

NANAMI KENTO

The sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room where Nanami and you lay snuggled in bed on a lazy Sunday morning. The peace was interrupted by a small figure bouncing into the room with unmatched enthusiasm.

"Mama! Papa! Wake up!" Your energetic four-year-old, Haruto, exclaimed, jumping onto the bed.

Nanami groaned playfully, his arm draped over his eyes. "Haruto, it's too early for this much energy."

You chuckled, sitting up and ruffling Haruto's messy bedhead. "Good morning, champ! What's got you so excited?"

Haruto grinned widely, his eyes sparkling. "I want a little brother or sister!"

Nanami lifted his arm and squinted at Haruto. "What?"

Haruto nodded enthusiastically, his hands gesturing wildly. "Yeah! I want someone to play with!"

You exchanged a surprised glance with Nanami before bursting into laughter. "Oh, sweetheart, where did that come from?"

Nanami sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Haruto, having a sibling is a big responsibility. Are you sure about this?"

Haruto nodded again, his determination unwavering. "Yes! Like in the storybooks!"

Nanami looked at you, a mix of amusement and disbelief on his face. "Well, I suppose we should consider it."

You smiled at Nanami, silently agreeing that it was a discussion worth having later. "How about we start with breakfast, and then we can talk more about it, okay?"

Haruto nodded eagerly, already bouncing off the bed and heading towards the kitchen, his request seemingly forgotten in the excitement of pancakes.

As you all gathered around the table, Haruto dug into his pancakes with fervor, occasionally pausing to chatter about his favorite cartoon or his adventures with his friends at preschool. Nanami sipped his coffee, occasionally interjecting with a question or a gentle reminder to eat properly and slowly.

After breakfast, while Nanami tidied up the kitchen, you took Haruto to the living room where his toys were scattered about. Sitting down among the stuffed animals and building blocks, you leaned in closer to Haruto.

"Hey, buddy, about what you said earlier..."

Haruto looked up from his toys, eyes wide with anticipation. "Yes, Mama?"

You smiled warmly, trying to find the right words. "Having a brother or sister is a big decision for us grown-ups too. It's something we need to think about carefully."

Haruto nodded seriously, his brows furrowed in thought. "But Mama, Papa, I promise I'll be a good big brother! I'll share my toys and teach them everything!"

Your heart melted at his earnestness. "I'm sure you would be, sweetheart. We'll talk more about it, okay? Papa and I will figure out what's best for our family."

Haruto nodded again, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and resumed playing with his toys. You watched him for a moment, marveling at how quickly he was growing up. Glancing over at Nanami, who had finished cleaning and was now watching the two of you with a soft smile, you knew you were on the same page.

Later when Haruto was napping after lunch, you and Nanami spoke about what your son had started.

"I never thought we'd be having this conversation so soon," Nanami mused, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your knee.

You chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. "Kids have a way of surprising you, don't they?"

Nanami nodded, his gaze warm and fond as he looked at you. "I think Haruto would make a wonderful big brother."

You smiled, feeling a swell of love for both your husband and your son. "He really would."

One day, after putting your child to bed, you found yourselves lingering at the kitchen table, a stack of pamphlets and notes scattered between cups of cooling tea. Nanami glanced up from a particularly detailed chart of baby essentials, his expression thoughtful.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked quietly, his eyes meeting yours over the rim of his glasses.

You nodded, reaching across to take his hand. "I think so. Our little one is growing up so fast. It feels like we have so much love to give."

He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. "I agree. And he's already so excited about the idea of a sibling."

You smiled, thinking back to the countless times your child had brought up the topic, from drawing pictures of a baby with their older sibling to asking if you could name the new addition after their favorite cartoon character.

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU pt 4

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more.

Part 5 is here.

Two weeks had passed since you and Baldwin had met Salauddin. As much as you tried to stay in your room to try and work on your time machine a bit, Sibylla was far too excited with the wedding preparations and was dragging you along. Even the maids were too eager to do everything, be it dressing you up or accompanying you around the castle. You suppose it was their way of trying to get in your good graces so that you'll choose them to be your court ladies. Its all politics really. The few moments that you did try to have for yourself, they'd be with Baldwin. You cant ever have meals without him, even if you were sneaky. You theorised that Baldwin probably had someone in the kitchen to inform him the moment you're having a meal made so that he can join you too (and proceed to handfeed you the first and last bite from his plate).

You decide its finally time to bring up the agenda you had in mind. "Baldwin?" You call softly, earning a surprised look from him because he's used to your admonishing tone. "Yes, princess?" he quickly closes his book, giving you his full attention.

"Do you think... it could be arranged for me to travel?" He raised a brow. "Travel? Where?"

You mustered up the courage. "Egypt."

"Egypt? Why?" Of course he was alarmed because at the time Egypt was under Muslim rule, and Salauddin was the sultan of Egypt. It was his territory and it was far too.

"Why not? I thought you said you would show me the world." You reminded him of his promise when he was trying to bribe you into marrying him.

He sighed and nodded. "That can be arranged. Come on, now." He took your hand and pulled you towards him as he moved towards the corner of his room, keeping you facing him. "I always keep my promises, princess." He whispered kissing your chin before turning you around to face the mirror.

"See? Now you've seen the world. In fact-" He spins you back to him before turning you towards the mirror again. "-ooh! Now you've seen the world twice!" He keeps on spinning you back and forth a couple of more times making you laugh before you get dizzy and lightly smack his arm.

"Be serious for once, Baldwin!" You glare at him. "Dont you get tired from your flirting attempts?"

His eyes twinkled as he cupped your face with his hands. "Never!"

With your face still in his hands, you repeated your request. "I want to go to Egypt, Baldwin." "But why? Do you want something from there? Because I can have it brought here-"

"No." You cant believe you have to manipulate him. Eh, he'll get over it. "I... I dont have a family, Baldwin. I was an orphan and well- things werent great at my orphanage, so I ran away. I wanted to find out about my family, about my parents. What happened to them. So I've been travelling here and there. I suppose thats how I developed an interest in history." You could seem his resolve melting with the way his eyes softened, so you continued on. "Please, let me go to Egypt. I think... I think I might find some clues about my family there. And if I dont..." you chuckled. "Well, I could always write something on Salauddin."

"Do you really want to go?" You nodded eagerly. He smiled. "Alright. I'll talk to Salauddin. If he gives permission, then you can go. I dont think I could accompany you there. Guy has been stirring up some problems here and I cant have him try to start a rebellion."

"Its okay, I can go alone." "Well, not alone. I'll send my best knights along." Shit. Oh well. Better them than Baldwin.

Breaking the pattern for once, you decided to initiate affection and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Baldwin!" You heard him inhale sharply, his body stilling for a moment before his arms slowly but surely wrapped around your frame, and you felt him melt into you a bit. This is psychology 101, okay? Pavlov's dog experiment, if you reward him for "good behaviour", he is more prone to be "good".

If only you knew this may have been the first time in more than a decade that he's been hugged. And now that he has... it only cements more in his mind that your hugs are his- you are his.

-

As expected, Salauddin agreed and allowed you to come to Egypt. However, Baldwin still delayed your trip by almost a week under the pretence to make "necessary arrangements for your trip".

It was just him trying to find excuses to make you stay longer, or even change your mind about leaving at all.

"You know it's going to be soooo hot in Egypt? What if you get a heat stroke?"

"I'm going with Salauddin. He's been living in the desert for so long, I'm sure he'll teach me how to protect myself from the sun."

"You- what if you get thirsty? You won't get cold water!"

You looked at him baffled. "Salauddin literally had a box of ice in the desert- he served us ice water. Did you forget? I'm beginning to think you might be suffering from a heat stroke."

He huffed. "Surely, you cant be safe in Egypt without me by your side. People will attack you for being my weakness!"

Your heart skipped a beat. I'm his weakness?

You shake your head. Not the time. "How would they even recognise me? I'd be in a niqaab! Besides, I thought you were sending your "best knights" with me." You said turning around to fold your clothes.

Baldwin's hand reached for your wrist and he pulled you back to him, your body stiffening against his hard chest. Damn, how long did he work out for? Just a few weeks ago, he couldnt even stand for long without passing out.

He rested his chin on your shoulder. "I'll miss you." He mumbled, and the corner of your mouth quirked up. "I know." You replied as you tried to break out of his arms and return to your packing. But Baldwin spun you around, his brows furrowed. "You wont miss me?" His eyes held deep concern, while his voice reminded you of a scared child.

He's adorable.

His grip on your arms tightened the longer you stayed silent. Fearing he'd change his mind about the trip, you cupped his face and brought it closer to yours, staring into his eyes.

"No." Hurt flashed through across those blue pools, but you continued. "Because the mere thought that you would be waiting here for me will make me want to return home early." His face softened.

"Home? You consider this your home?" He whispered, clearly affected by your words.

Oh, he's about to die when he hears what you've got next.

Your eyes smiled. "You're my home, Baldwin." You knew if this was an anime, then right now Baldwin would be animated with a pink background with halo behind him, and probably cupids shooting arrows and crying.

His reaction proved you right. Baldwin pulled you in for a tight hug, hiding his head into your shoulder and before you either of you could react, you both fell on your bed, though Baldwin didnt let go of you.

When he finally pulled away, he caressed your cheek with one hand. "What?" you asked with a lazy smile. He didnt say anything, just kept tracing your face with his fingers, looking at you as if he was in a trance. Considering you were leaving tomorrow, you didnt move from the bed. You didnt want to break whatever fantasy Baldwin was in (truthfully, you didnt have the heart for it. He looked like something was healing inside him.) So you stayed there next to him, letting Baldwin run his fingers though your hair and falling asleep to that.

"How did I get so lucky?" He whispered to himself, still looking at you in awe.

Baldwin didnt sleep that night. No, he wanted to memorise your face.

-

The next morning, you were sent off with a small entourage, even though Baldwin wanted to send you with a bigger one, but you reasoned with him that a large group of people would only draw more attention to you.

"Be safe, princess." Baldwin said, pressing his lips to your forehead. You smiled and nodded. "I'll be back before you know it." He gave you a lopsided smile before pulling out a pouch and placing it in your hands. It was heavy. "I have given the knight commander gold to cater to your every need, buy anything you like but- I still want you to have this. Just in case." You peeked into the pouch and your eyes bulged out at the gold coins in there. "Its too much, Baldwin. I cant take-" He cupped your cheek. "I insist. If- God forbid, things go wrong, I want you to use this to get out." You leaned into his touch. "Nothing will happen to me, Baldwin." He prays so (he and his church is praying for your safe journey). "I know, but please- keep it. For my peace of mind." You finally conceded, giving him a hug before starting your journey.

From Jerusalem, you first reached Salauddin's caravan in the desert, where the Kurdish leader was waiting for you.

"So, have you come up with a plan to leave Baldwin?" He asked, guiding you inside his tent, taking note of the niqaab you were wearing. It was the one Baldwin had helped embroirdered for you- he recognised the ugly flower on your sleeve.

"Its not a priority at the moment." You lied, deciding it wouldnt be good to reveal all your cards to him. After all, he is a conquerer. You dont know what kind of games he may be playing.

He raised a brow at you, setting up the chess board. "Then why are you going to Egypt?" He wanted to gauge your expressions, but your eyes were solely focused on the chess board as you made the first move.

"I have some matters to take care of. Personal matters." You watched him move his black pawn.

"Anything I could help with?" He asked. You took his bishop. "No, you have already helped a lot. Thank you. But I must ask- how did you just agree to Baldwin when he asked if I could go to Egypt?"

He scoffed, taking your knight. "You think I did this for free? Please, your husband had to pay a pretty penny to take his "little heaven's angel" through the desert safely. Honestly, how have you bewitched him?" Salauddin gazed at you. "Either he's too stupid or you're much smarter than you look, the latter is something I highly doubt, so it only leads to one conclusion- Baldwin is stupid." He mocked.

"Hey! Dont insult my fiance." You admonished, looking back at the board to make your next move. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, looking at you expectantly. "Or else what?"

Your eyes finally made contact with his, and he could feel he had insulted you somehow. "Or else... you'll regret it." You threatened, which he didnt take seriously, because- why would he? You're nobody.

His eyes lit up. "If you were any less threatening, Y/n, you'd be a dandelion." You rolled your eyes, clearly not amused. "Say whatever you want, but you and I both know you didnt do it for the money."

"What do you mean?"

"Mmhm, I dont know. Dont you have enough money already? I think- oh, you made a mistake there." you smirked taking his queen and now his king was left wide open for attack. "I think... you were scared to say no."

"Excuse me?" He moved his king. You chased him with your knight.

"You heard me." Your rook pushed his king into the corner. Frustratedly, he tries to escape by moving his king diagonally, but you were quicker with your bishop.

"Why would I be afraid of a man whose own brother-in-law is starting a rebellion against him and he's been allowing him to do so just because his sister claims to love him?" He taunted at the messed up family dynamics. Of course he knew how ready Baldwin was to give his kingdom away to Guy to be perished, but that was before he was cured of his leprosy.

You had boxed his king from all sides. No escape. "Why wouldnt you be? The same man was only just a 16 year old when he defeated you on the battlefield devastatingly. And that too, when he was so sick, his face was melting off." You knocked down his king. "Can you imagine how strong he is now that he's cured?"

His anger was subtle. Eyes glaring at you, mouth pulled into a thin line, his nostrils flared ever so slightly.

Clearly, you had struck a nerve.

"You shouldn't play with fire." He warned. You twirled his king between your fingers. "Who said I was playing?"

You both sat in silence for a few more moments, with you mostly relishing in your victory. "So, what do I get for winning again?"

His eyes narrowed, though they werent as hostile as they were a few moments ago, "You get to keep your head."

"Am I always playing for my life everytime we play chess?" "Yes." "Huh. So how does it feel to know that I will outlive you?" You teased, making him roll his eyes as he stood up, leading you out of his tent.

"My men are going to accompany you to Egypt. They're ready, so-" he looked at you with a scowl. "Leave."

"Aww, thank you, aljedu!" You waved, leaving before he could get mad at you for calling him "grandpa".

-

The journey to Egypt took a little over 4 days, but you really cant complain with the small army of people at your service. Even the men and women Salauddin had sent with you made sure to cater your every need, and more importantly, help you and your entourage survive the desert.

The pyramids were still as magnificent as in the future, though the area was now surrouded by a bustling market of sorts. As your caravan moved further into the town, you saw a large centre built that had the traditional Islamic architecure elements- huge domes, minarets, white pillars. The colourful tile works (prominents turqoise and dark blue themes) and a few gothic arches displayed the catholic influence as well.

"What's that?" You had asked one of the knights. "Thats the madarasas." You nodded as you recalled reading about it in "the golden age of Islam" era. Madarasa was essentially an educational institution that were devoted to the study of law, maths, science, medicine, religion, philosphy and other subjects. The complex itself consisted of a mosque, a library, a boarding house. They were home to both students and professors, and were maintained by charitable endowments and unlike a modern day college, it lacked a specific curriculum or institutionalise system of certification. Information was usually passed on informally from teacher to student, and both men and women were able to attend.

It was heaven for anyone who seeked to learn, and this was exactly where you would be going to get help for your time machine.

But that would have to wait, as you were now lead to Salauddin's palace for rest. It was massive and just like the madarasa, it was also beautifully constructed. The palace spread over on a large area of land, and although it was was around 80-100 feet in height with those humongous pillars at each corner, the palace was largest in horizontal dimensions. Inside, after passing a throng of soldiers stationed who kept their gaze lowered even though she and most of the females were completely veiled, you saw a huge pool that continued throughout the palace, even through sharp corners. It almost looked like the castle was built around the turquoise pool. Despite it being hot as hell outside, the palace was cool and insulated even though there were no air conditioners or fans and was open enough to be well ventilated. You had seen the palm date trees through the city, but there was a huge new variety of exotic plants inside that you dont think would be able to survive in the desert.

Egyptians were truly ahead of their time.

-

After dinner, you were sitting in your room with your maids. They were talking about the hospitality of Muslims and all, helping you unpack and get ready for bed.

"Alright, time to sleep." You said with a yawn and they all immediately began leaving. All but one maid, who had to stay by your side at all times even when you were bathing. Apparently, Baldwin had ordered her to do so because he didnt trust anyone in the foreign lands.

"You can go to your chambers with the others, Isabella." You smiled politely at the blonde girl, no older than 19. She shook her head, her brows furrowing in concern. "No, princess. It is my duty to be with you at all times. What if you need me for something?"

"I wont." You smiled tightly. The sooner she left, the sooner you could sneak out of here and go to the madarasa. "You must be tired from all the travel. Please, go rest. I insist." But it was like she couldnt imagine committing a grave sin like this.

Fine. If she's not going to leave then-

"Isabella..." you come close to her, fiddling with your thumbs. "Can I trust you, Isabella?"

She nodded obediently. "Of course, my princess."

"I need to get out of the palace for some time." You tell her slowly, letting her absorb the words. Automatically, she responds. "I can have them arrange a tour tomorrow-"

"No, Isabella-" you let out a distressed sigh, rubbing your forehead as you paused for a dramatic effect. "I need to go out right now."

"Now? At night time?" The young girl wondered what possible emergency you could possibly have. "Oh, um- well, I can have the guards prepare a-"

"No!" You turned around, reaching for her hands. Isabella's eyes widened. A princess- royalty is touching her? You tilted your head sligtly, eyes making a desperate plea.

"I have business that I need to take care of on my own. I-" you sigh dramatically before looking at her with most remorseful eyes. "I have to find my family. I need to- I cant get married without them attending. I- I- just need them and I know! I know they're here! I can feel it!" Isabella's face softened at your "distress" but you can still see her hesitance, and so before she could protest, you squeezed her hands. "I tell everyone I am an orphan but- the the truth is... I was a slave. I was stolen from my family and- and I was raised with other slaves. It wasnt until I was 8 that I had ran away. I've been running from my owners for a long time, all while trying to find my family. I dont care if they're dead but- I need to know. I need to know, Isabella. You... you understand why, right?"

Tears slipped from Isabella's eyes as she nodded her head feverently.

"Of course I do, princess!"

-

You pulled your shawl around you tighter. Temperatures really did drop significantly at night in deserts. You were now standing outside the madarasa you had seen earlier in the day after convincing Isabella to stay behind and pretend to be you under the covers in bed while you went out.

The building was much more quiet now, although the market was still alive but people were less and everyone was mindful of how much noise they made.

You quietly walked into the madarasa, pretending to be one of the several servants who were entering the place. Inside, the area was designed in the shape of a rectangle without a roof in the center. The moon light illuminated the common ground in the middle while lanterns were lit all around the 4 sides, numerous doors on each side.

Keeping your veiled head down, you walked past many scholars and students. You wanted to enter a room, but with all the doors closed, you feared you'd enter the wrong room with someone who wouldnt be as forgiving to a stranger entering this place.

But luck was on your side tonight, as your eyes finally caught sight of an ajar door, and you slipped in once you noticed no one was currently in the room. The room was far more spacious than you had anticipated and even though the equipment was far too old, you recognised it to be a sort of lab. Nearing the desk in the corner, you noticed some papers spread around with some maths done. Even though the numbers were in Arabic, you recognised it- algebra.

"What are you doing here, woman?" You look upto find a man in his late 30s with a white turban and a black beard looking at you angrily. "Who sent you here? By Allah! Leave right now or I will have you punished for trespassing and attempting to seduce a pious man you devil-"

"I'll leave but I cant go without correcting your error." You said pointing to his papers.

He blinked at you. "What error?"

You laughed tauntingly. "Im surprised you dont see it." The man's brows furrowed as he marched over to you. "There is no error! I am the finest mathematician of this decade, if not century! I study astrology, biology, physics, alchemy, philosophy and you dare tell me that I made an error?! I am Al-Abbas ibn Bashir! Who are you to correct me woman?!"

You stared at him unamused. "The square root of 8 is not equal to the square root of 4 + square root of 4." You said pointing at his paper. He squinted at you, trying to process your words before looking where you were pointing.

"Yes, it is. It is additive-"

"Not everything is additive." You sighed, pulling out a blank sheet of paper and solving the question step by step for him. "See? Square root of 8 is 2.818 while square root of 4 is 2, so since we have two square roots if 4, it'll be 2 plus 2, which adds to 4."

You sat down on his chair while he looked over your explanation, trying to find an error in your work. There were none.

Abbas looked at you, brows still furrowed. "You- fine, you are correct. I made a small error-" "Small?" You teased. "Yes, small!" He snapped back as you chuckled. He continued. "But that doesnt explain what youre doing in my office. Who are you?"

You rested your head on your palm and stared at him. "I have work for you."

"And what might that be?"

"Hmm, depends. Are your studies purely theory based or... experimental as well?"

Abbas gave you a nod. "I like to mainly focus on theories, but I like to test my theories as well, so from time to time, I do have to conduct experiments as well."

"Fantastic!" You straightened up and grabbed a paper as you began drawing a tool. "Here, I have mentioned the dimensions and I need you to engineer this for me." He took the paper from you. "What exactly is it?"

"I cannot tell you." "Why?" "Well, I'm a scientist too, and I dont want you to stealing my work." You replied as you pulled out your coin purse that Baldwin had given you. "I suppose this would be sufficient for you?" You placed 5 gold coins in front of him.

Abbas scoffed. "You think you can buy me? I dont care for money!" He stood up, turning away from you.

You raised your brow. "Name your price."

He shook his head. "I cannot be bought, woman. I am a man of science. I have far more important things to be doing with my time-"

"Like making more mistakes?" He glared at you. "One small error. Thats all it was. Besides, just because I made a small miscalculation doesnt mean youre smarter than me."

You smiled under your veil.

"Wanna test that?"

-

Abbas had decided to work for you after you had outsmarted him in every subject he presented. I mean you only had to touch the basics of what you had learned in 6th grade science class but he was- bamboozled.

After he had recovered from his shock, he had agreed to work for you on the condition that you check his work for mistakes and impart some of you teachings. He swears he wont copy any of your "works". You gave him the gold coins and told him to work under complete discretion and that you'd meet him again in 3 days time, when you're ready to return to Jerusalem.

The plan was to collect your tool from him and then give him a couple more tools to design which you would collect 2 weeks later when you visited Egypt again. Because while you do need to work on your time machine, you also need to find ways for Baldwin to go to war with Salauddin again, because originally Baldwin dies of leprosy, but since you already cured that... you need to find a way for Baldwin to die and so far, a war seems to be the only answer.

But youve seen their relationship... Baldwin and Salauddin wouldn't simply jeopardise everything like that. They have a good bond, a strong friendship even.

However, if highschool has taught you anything, even the closest friendships end because of misunderstandings.

And so, a week later, you were back in Jerusalem with your new tool and a new plan in mind.

You walked up the stairs and towards Baldwin's office. Since you had arrived earlier than he was expecting, you wanted to surprise him. Honestly, you missed him and his adorable expressions-

You stopped at the foot of the door, your heart dropping at the sight.

Baldwin and a woman... kissing.

Thoughts? Also send asks

[girlgenius1111]

alone.

i wrote this in maybe a half hour and it's very short but i was very in my feels so you get angsty sol as a result before the events of family line. sol struggles. there is change on the horizon, but she doesn't see it.

-----

It was the same every morning, the same every day. A quick knock would wake you, a second knock a few minutes later telling you it was time to get up. You’d throw on clothes that didn’t quite fit with Spain’s climate, tie your hair up in a bun, and go downstairs. 

Breakfast was always quiet, ever since the first few weeks, when Ingrid had tried to engage you in conversation and you rejected every attempt. She’d ask you a question that would remind you how little she knew about your life now. You’d snap back at her unintentionally, she’d get angry, and the table would fall quiet. Eventually, it just stayed quiet. 

You’d go to school, barely understand a word spoken to you. Scrape by with passable grades, most of the time. Go back to Ingrid’s house. Do your school work at the kitchen table, where she could keep an eye on you. Hide in your room until dinner. Hide in your room after dinner. Distract yourself with a mindless show, or more often, a nature documentary of some kind. Fall asleep, dream of lakes and forests and grass and mountains; things that could never be disappointed in you. 

You went through the motions. Step by step, day after day. Not really living, just existing. Not trying, either. 

You’d stop trying a long time ago. Long before Spain, before the small, bland extra bedroom you slept in. Before disappointed looks had begun to come from your sister. You’d stopped trying when you were still in Norway, still disappointing your parents. 

Back in Norway, you felt content being mostly invisible. Your parents ignoring you was better than being yelled at, though they still did that a fair amount.There was something about being here, though, in Spain that was just… different. 

Perhaps it was that part of you, little you, who still remembered Ingrid as someone who gave the best hugs and always knew how to make you smile. Little you hadn’t ever had much hope in her parents, but she’d had hope in Ingrid. That part of you clung to the idea that Ingrid could still make everything better, like she had when you were small. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t let go of that hope. 

It crushed you, time and time again, when Ingrid yelled at you, or frowned at a bad grade, or sent you to your room for being a few minutes past curfew, without even letting you explain why you’d been late [there’d been a turtle in the road on your walk from the climbing gym, and it had taken 5 minutes you didn’t have to make sure it got across safely]. When she’d sigh after another weekend passed, and you remained locked in your room. When she’d tell you to just try harder. At speaking Spanish, at making friends, at school. 

You didn’t have anything left to give. All of your energy was spent dragging yourself out of bed. Why couldn’t she see that? Growing up, it had felt like Ingrid had been the only one to see you. Now, though, she was just like everyone else. She saw what your parents saw, you decided. Someone who just wasn’t worth it. 

Ingrid had always loved you. Even when it was hard to believe that your parents did, Ingrid always told you she loved you. She hadn’t said it in a while, though. You hadn’t heard from your Mamma in weeks, the last text you’d gotten from your Pappa had been scolding you for spending too much money. [You’d bought Ingrid a birthday present, but he made you return it before you could give it to her]. 

Maybe you just weren’t someone who could be loved. You rolled onto your side, covering your ears to block out the sound of Ingrid’s loud laughter at something Mapi had said. Tears dripped off your face, and you wished you were 7 again, burying your face in your sister’s shoulder and knowing that as long as she had you, you’d be okay. That was back when she loved you, though. You were pretty sure she didn’t anymore. How could she? When all you did was screw up, who could love someone like you? 

You weren’t 7 anymore, you were 17, and you were all alone. In a house hundreds of miles away from home, with your sister who you felt like you barely knew anymore. All alone. You were beginning to think that was all you’d ever be. Alone. 

You didn’t know a lot of things, though. You didn’t know about the book shoved under Ingrid’s pillow, about troubled teens. You didn’t know that she’d stand in your doorway sometimes, just watching you sleep. Enjoying that, at least while resting, you didn’t frown. 

You didn’t know your Pappa picked up the phone often, but never called, feeling like he’d created a gap he wasn’t sure he could ever fix. Didn’t know that sometimes your Mamma slept in your bed, remembering the small child that had once smelled of syrup and brought her flowers from the garden. 

You didn’t know that Mapi stayed up late at night, duolingo open on her phone, hoping that maybe speaking a language you understood would make you feel more at home. 

You didn’t know that Ingrid loved you more than her heart could take, sometimes, and that she was just doing what she thought would work. She didn’t realize you didn’t need discipline, that you just needed a support system. 

Things would improve, but you didn’t know that. As you sobbed into your pillow, you were pretty sure you’d always feel like this; unloved and completely alone. 

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Tw: parent abandoning their child, fluff, angst

Series masterlist

The afternoon sun filtered through the living room window and cast a swath of gold over Noah's house. You were sitting crossed-legged on the couch, watching Luna play silently, her small hands precisely set her favorite toys in a small, neat row, where Mr. Flop, her favorite bunny, had proudly taken the central point, guiding whatever game was in her head.

You smiled at her concentration, something warm blooming in your chest.

She was a perfect blend of Noah's features, a mirror image of him in her own way. She had his warm, deep brown eyes with his same subtle almond shape, dark hair, with a way chubbier face.

Noah leaned against the counter in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Some brown locks fell over his eyes as they darted between you and his daughter in quiet contemplation and hesitation.

You could tell something was on his mind. It had been incredible between you and Noah in the past few months, but there was one part of his life he'd held carefully at arm's length: Luna.

That wasn't because he didn't trust you, you knew that. It was deeper than that, more complicated. He was protective of her in a way hard to explain unless you knew the full story, which he had only recently begun sharing with you.

It had been late one night, just the two of you curled up on his couch after Luna had gone to bed, when Noah first opened up about the relationship with his ex. In the beginning, it had been passionate-whirlwind-type love, felt like the kind that could move mountains.

But once Luna was born, everything shifted. She was never ready for the reality of being a mother, and slowly but surely, it dawned on him that with each passing day, she actually resented it. Noah tried to understand her, tried to support her in whatever way he could, but nothing seemed to help. The more he tried, the more she pulled away.

One night, Noah had come home to an empty house. No note, no explanation, just Luna, not even a year old yet, lying in her crib, and complete silence in every room. His ex was gone, had walked out on both of them, and though Noah tried to reach out, tried to get her to come back, she never did.

From that moment on, he'd vowed to protect Luna from anything or anyone that might hurt her. Or perhaps that was his way to protect himself, too.

You both were up late, the only sound in his living room coming from a small lamp in the corner of the room, its dim light.

Noah was sitting next to you on the couch, his back hunched and his elbows to his knees as he stared into the floor for thought collection. You knew he had been carrying something heavy in his head for quite some time.

"I never thought that I'd ever be a single parent," he said gruffly, as though the words hurt him to utter. "But then again, after what happened …I don't really see my life in any other way anymore. She is everything to me."

He stopped, rubbing a hand over his face, and in those eyes you could almost see his tiredness, not physical, but an emotional toll, when one carries so much on his shoulders alone. You said nothing, just let him work through the words at his own pace. You could feel his vulnerability hang between you like some fragile thing he was just willing to show you.

"I didn't have time to process what happened," Noah whispered. "One day I'm in this relationship and we're trying to make it work for Luna, and the next… she's gone. Just like that. I came home and she'd left. No explanation. No good-bye."

Your heart ached with the pain in his tone, even now raw with emotion.

“I didn’t know what the hell I was doing,”, he admitted, shaking his head. Just like that, it was him and Luna against the world.

"I was fucking terrified" he said, the corner of his lip curling up in a self-deprecating smile. "I had to figure out how to be a dad by myself, how to balance that with the band, how to be there for her when I was barely holding it together myself."

He glanced up at you then, his eyes warm with appreciation and a little fear. "She's the reason I'm so careful, you know? With relationships, with people in general. I don't ever want to bring someone into her life unless I am really sure."

He paused, his throat swallowing hard as his eyes drop once again to the floor. You could tell there was more he wanted to say, but it was hard for him to speak.

"I'm scared that…," he started, then had to force himself to continue, his voice faltering. "I'm scared that you're mad at me. Or disappointed, maybe. That I'm taking things too slow with you. That I haven't fully… let you in yet. It's not because I don't care about you, because I do. A lot. It's just—"

"Noah," you said softly, leaning in closer to him. "I'm not mad. I'm not disappointed. I get it, why you want to be careful. It's okay."

His eyes finally met yours, surprise flickering in them. He had been so consumed by his fear of messing things up that it hadn't occurred to him you might actually understand where he was coming from.

"You've been through much," you went on, your voice soft but clear. "And I get why you'd want to protect Luna. I'd be more concerned if you were being anything less than careful, honestly. It says how much you love her, and how much you want to do right by her. And I respect that, Noah. I'm not going anywhere."

He blinked, like he was trying to absorb what you were saying, his shoulders loosening as your words soaked in. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. His hand closed around yours, clasping at it like he was holding onto something solid for the first time in a long while.

"I can wait," you said with an even voice. "You need more time, I'm waiting. I do care for you, for both of you. And I don't want to make anything if you are not ready yet. What matters to me is that we're moving forward, even if it's slow."

Noah's breath slightly caught, emotion swelling up in his eyes as he continued to carry that weight for such a long time, terrified that by taking things slow, he was pushing you away, when all you wanted was to meet him where he was.

"I don't know how to do that," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I've been so scared of screwing this up, of screwing us up. But you… you've just been there."

You smiled softly and squeezed his hand. "You've been hurt, Noah. And it takes time to heal from that. I'm not here to hurry you or push you into something that you're not ready for. I am here because I care about you. And I care about Luna. I want you only to know that I'm in this for the long haul whenever you're ready."

He breathed shakily, his forehead leaning forward to rest against yours while his hand remained tightly wrapped around yours. You could feel the tension start to seep from him, replaced by a silent sort of relief that he didn't have to bear the burden of his fears alone anymore.

"Thank you." he whispered, his voice full of gratitude. "For understanding. For being… you."

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, silently communicating that he had nothing to thank you for, that this was where you wished to be.

You saw Noah in all his completeness: a good father, a man who had been wounded but kept trying, learning how to trust once more. You were more than ready to wait for him to fully open up that part of his heart.

You sat in that silence, the weight of the past there still, yet lighter now. You knew Noah still had a really long way to go before letting go of all the pain he had been carrying with him, but you knew he was on his way. You would be here every step of the way, to build something real, something lasting, with him and with Luna.

Now, months after you and Noah had started dating, you were sitting in the middle of that guarded space he had created around her.

Now you knew why he was being so careful, why he had not pushed for more interaction between you and Luna.

She meant the world to him, and after all she had been through, he would never risk anything that could disrupt her life. But still, you waited. You had cared for Noah, and by that extension already cared for Luna, too. So you gave him the time he needed to let you in.

Today, though, there was something different in the air, something to let you know Noah was about to take a step forward.

"Hey," Noah finally said, breaking the comfortable silence that had overcome the room. He set his coffee cup down and rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous quirk you'd come to know well. "Can I ask you a favor?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Of course. What's up?"

He turned to Luna, still deep in her toys, and back to you again. He paused a beat, you basically saw the cogs turning as he picked his words with all care.

"The band's got a thing later today, just some planning stuff for the new album. I was supposed to go meet the guys, but…" He trailed off, gesturing toward Luna with a helpless look. "Usually, I ask one of them, but they are all busy today."

You chuckled softly at that, imagining Luna in the hands of Noah’s bandmates. As much as they loved her, you knew they weren’t exactly all equipped for child care even if you were sure they all deeply cared about her.

"So… you want me to stay with her?"

Noah nodded, his expression softening as he met your gaze. "Yeah. If you're okay with it. I mean, I know it's last minute and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, but—"

"Noah," you interrupted softly, standing up and walking over to him. You reached out, resting your hand on his arm. "It's okay. I'd love to stay with her."

He exhaled, the relief washing over his features, but there was still that damned hesitation in his eyes. You knew how big of a deal this was for him, trusting someone with Luna, especially after everything he'd been through.

"Are you sure?" he asked more quietly now. "I mean, she's really shy, with most people and with you too, and I don't want any of you to feel uncomfortable."

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss against his cheek. "I'll be fine. We'll be fine. She just needs time, that's all. And I think she got her shyness from her dad."

Noah closed his eyes for a second, his head slightly leaned into your touch before pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead. When he pulled back, his eyes were different, warm and a deep well of silent appreciation.

"Thank you," he whispered. "This… this means so much."

Now, you were sitting on the floor, after Noah had gone off to his band meeting. At first, Luna had been quiet, keeping to herself to play with her toys, but bit by bit, she'd started to warm up toward you, like you'd wanted.

You leaned forward for Mr. Flop, the stuffed bunny, and held him out to her with a playing grin. "You think Mr. Flop needs some tea?"

Luna's eyes sparkled, a shy smile overspreading her face as she nodded vigorously. "Yes! He is very thirsty."

You laughed softly, watching her scurry over to her tiny plastic tea set. She first poured an imaginary cup of tea for Mr. Flop and then one for you. As she handed you the pretend tea, your heart swelled with affection for this little girl who was letting you into her world slowly, piece by piece.

"Thanks, Luna," he said, making a big show of taking a sip. "This is the best tea I've ever had."

She giggled, her cheeks blushing with pride. For several moments, the two of you played in comfortable silence, with her showing you through the rules of the tea party.

"You think Mr. Flop would like to go on an adventure?" you asked after some time, breaking the silence as Luna finished pouring more imaginary tea.

With eyes aglow with excitement, she said, "Yes! He loves adventures!"

"Okay, where shall we go?" you asked, leaning in conspiratorially.

Luna tapped her chin, and then a huge grin spread over her face. "The jungle! I love jungle! Dad loves jungle too! We have to find the lost treasure!"

You gasped melodramatically. "The jungle? Wait. Noah made you listen...nevermind. That does sound dangerous! You think we can make it?"

She laughed again, her head bobbing up and down quickly. "We can do it! Mr. Flop is very brave."

And then you both launched into your make-believe jungle adventure. The shyness had left Luna by now, replaced by a bubbly, fearless energy that took your heart soaring.

The front door creaked open a couple of hours later when Noah returned home, but you didn't notice him first, too caught up in the game with Luna sitting next to you on the floor.

Noah stood in the doorway, watching the both of you, and his heart swelled in his chest. He had always known you were special, knew from the moment he met you that there was something different about you, but seeing you now, playing with Luna, made him feel something he hadn't felt in years.

Love, not just for you, but for the idea of you becoming a part of him and Luna's lives in a deeper way.

When you finally saw him standing there, you smiled. "Hey, you're back!" you said. Noah nodded, stepping closer, his eyes soft. "Yeah, I'm back."

Luna ran to him and wrapped her arms around his legs as he scooped her up, holding her close to his chest for a moment before turning back to you. "You two seemed to have fun."

Noah had Luna in his arms, babbly excitedly about some "jungle adventure" and lost treasure. He listened intently, though his eyes never left you. There was something there in his gaze, something so raw and deep, that made your heart go racing. It wasn't the usual softness, the usual affection, it was heavier, like something nestled between you when nothing was said.

"We did," you said, smiling at Luna as she continued her excited recount of the day. "We found the lost treasure, and Mr. Flop was the hero of the day."

Luna giggled, snuggling into Noah's chest as she added her own details. "We were very brave, Daddy! Mr. Flop was so good at being quiet, and we didn't get eaten!"

Noah chuckled, brushing a hand through her hair as he kissed her forehead. "Sounds like you had quite the adventure."

"Yes! We had a lot of fun. And your friend is amazing. I want to play with her again. I think she is my friend too now."

Noah smiled, his brown eyes full of affection for the both of you. "I'm glad you made a new friend. We'll ask her again, okay?"

Luna nodded, her eyelids drooping as the excitement of the day finally started to catch up with her and she rested her head against the soft fabric of his dad's hoodie. Noah glanced at you over her head, a soft smile tugging at his lips once again.

"Would you like to help me get her ready for bed?" he whispered, and with Luna nuzzling her head into the crook of his shoulder, half-asleep.

You nodded, and your heart fluttered with the thought. This felt like some sort of minor but meaningful step in being included in the nighttime routine, part of something as personal and intimate as this.

All three went into Luna's room together. It was not a big room, but it was cozy with soft toys, bookshelves, and a little carpet that glittered from strings of tiny fairy lights.

Noah was soon to gently lay Luna down into her bed, and you sat down beside him, watching as he tucked her in, his hands moving with the sort of practiced ease that came from more than two years of being a single parent. You leaned over, setting Mr. Flop down beside Luna, who smiled sleepily as she cuddled the bunny close.

Noah leaned over her, placing a gentle kiss against her forehead with tenderness that would ache your chest. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered into her hair. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

"Goodnight, daddy," she muttered the tone in her voice drowsy. Then her tiny eyes flickered open just enough to glance at you. "Goodnight Y/N."

You smiled warmly, your heart swelling in the simplest of words. "Goodnight, Luna."

After several minutes of quiet whispers and soothing reassurances, she fell asleep, her breathing evening into the quiet rhythm of her sleep. Noah leaned forward and pressed another soft kiss to her forehead before he eased himself up, motioning you to follow him from the room.

As the door is shut quietly behind you, he let out a very, very long breath, running his hand through his hair, leaning against the wall.

"Thanks," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "For sticking with her. For being so… incredible with her."

You shrugged. "She's a pretty amazing kid. It wasn't hard."

Noah turned fully toward you now, his eyes searching yours with a sort of intensity that hitched your breath. His hand rose and delicately swept a strand of hair back behind your ear, where it lingered on the side of your face. His thumb tracing the line of your jaw sent you leaning into his touch, your heart beating with each passed second a little faster.

"I never knew whether I would find anybody that could fit in this part of my life," he whispered, his voice not a decibel over a whisper. "With Luna, after what happened… I felt I needed to keep her world small, you know? Keep it safe. I didn't want to bring someone in that might hurt her."

His eyes welled with that same vulnerability you had seen before, and you knew how hard this was for him, to open up, to let you into this part of his life he had guarded so much.

"You don't have to worry about that," you said softly, laying your hand over his. "I would never hurt her. Or you."

Noe's thumb stroked over your cheek, his eyes sealing to yours in an tight seriousness, as if you were the only person existing. "I know. That's why I love you."

The words hung between you and him, heavy with tension. You couldn't breathe for a second, heart pounding in your chest as you tried processing what he just said. He loved you.

You hadn't expected it, not so soon, not in that moment, but the way he looked at you, the way he had been with Luna, it made sense. It wasn't just the two of them anymore; it was all three, the small family that had formed.

A soft smile overspreads your face as you looked up at him, your hand clenching a little tighter around his. "I love you too, Noah."

The relief in his expression was genuine, and for him at least, it was as though the weight had finally been pulled off his shoulders. He pulled you into his arms, and you wrapped yours around him, holding close as he buried his face in your hair, breathing you in like he couldn’t believe you were real.

And for a long time, neither of them said anything. They only stood there with each other, wrapped in their own warmth, and the silence just told it all.

Then Noah leaned back, just a little, just enough to look down at you. And then his eyes were deeper and surer.

"I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't met you," he whispered huskily. "I don't think I even knew how much I needed someone like you, not just for me but for Luna, too."

You reached up and brushed a thumb over his cheek. "You're an amazing dad, Noah. You've done everything right for her. But you don't have to do it alone anymore."

He closed his eyes, like almost to let your words sink in. Opening them a second later, there was something soft, something vulnerable, that made you want to pull him closer still.

"I don't want to do it alone anymore," he whispered with his forehead against yours. "I want this. Us. You and me, and Luna. I want a family."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you nodded, your voice barely louder than a whisper. "Me too."

Noah's arms tugged closer, his lips finding yours in a gentle unhurried kiss that felt almost like a vow, like a start, the type of kiss that spoke of love, of trust, of a future that finally was starting to feel real.

He drew back and his eyes shone bright now with a happiness in them that hadn't been there before. He reached down, took your hand in his, and guided you back onto the couch. You sat together in the quiet glow of the livingroom.

You knew you would have one of those movie nights where you definitely fall asleep in his arms on the couch.

Noah for once in a long while felt something he hadn't dared to believe in, peace. Peace in knowing that he didn't have to protect himself and Luna anymore. Peace in knowing he was finally able to let you in, fully without any fear.

You sat there, his arm around you, knowing this was only the beginning of something beautiful: a life no more his or yours, but one which both of you had started building together.

hello friends in my phone! would you like more parts of this? (｡◕‿◕｡)

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @mathfairchild1 @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme

TBAF Tags: @aubrey-melinoe

[empress-simps]

James Potter Dating Sirius’ Younger Sister (Head Canons)

Note: These are just random stuff, it has been sitting in my notes app for a month or so? Enjoyy

Oh boy, you are in for a wild ride; just imagine all the chaos this would bring. Best believe you always have a stupid prank to worry about around the corner when your brother and boyfriend are pranksters.

You were a year younger than Sirius, being the middle child, and Regulus the youngest, it wasn’t surprising that you were kind of shunned by Walburga and Orion. You’re a girl, you cannot pass the Black family name onto your children, you were also not the heir. Luckily, big brother Sirius quickly took you under his wing and became the parent figure in your life.

You were sorted into Slytherin, along with Regulus much to your older brother’s dismay.

He threw a fucking fit and practically felt his soul leave his body the first time you told him. Sirius even went as far as tearing up and looking out the window, defeated. (And quite dramatically)

“You should’ve been a Gryffindor, Y/n! I don’t even know why the sorting hat put you in that evil house!” Sirius huffed, pouting.

“Regulus is also in the same house as me, brother.”

“Well it was quite obvious that he was meant to be a Slytherin, Regulus has a stick up his a-“

Although the Marauders mainly pranks the Slytherin students, you were an exception. How could Sirius prank his adorable little sister? You don’t deserve it! (also because James is a tad bit overprotective when it comes to you, Sirius just chalks it up as James being respectful to his younger sibling.)

“Siri, please don’t make Reggie suffer too much.” You plead to your older brother, puppy eyes activating as you heard their plans to set a nasty prank to slytherin students earlier. Sirius’ features soften, “Alright, I’ll talk to James. He’ll be the one to decide.” He pats your head, already formulating an apology for the prank he’s sure will not be cancelled.

James has been harboring feelings ever since he saw you on the train ride to Hogwarts with Sirius in his second year, so it was quite obvious what his opinion is on the matter.

Sirius randomly starts later that evening, “Prongs, Y/n was asking if you could exempt Regulus in our prank-“

“Oh don’t worry I’ll cancel it.”

Peter sputters “You’ll what?”

James looked at them “What? Let’s give them a day off.” Remus did a double take and actually sets his book down after placing his book mark. Yeah, that's how you know it's serious.

“We’ve been planning this for months-“

“Did I stutter, Wormtail?”

The hold you had on James though, seriously.

James Potter is whipped for Y/n Black.

You want some food that the house elves didn't prepare for dinner? Don't worry, James is on the case! He will run to the kitchens and bribe the house elves to make you some of your favorite dishes and what you're craving.

“What’s with the long face, princess?” Sirius asks, seeing you slump down next to him, looking quite defeated.

“Just some housemates, I couldn’t study well because of them.” You grumbled, pulling out your Herbology textbook and trying to focus.

Prongs frowned, snapping him out of his daydreams (which were probably about you.)

“Who?”

James want names.

Who dared interrupt his sweet girl’s (still not his girl though but we don’t talk about that) study session?!

Remus, being the observant sod he is, looks at Prongs, amusement swimming in his eyes as he takes in James’ angry and protective form.

Remus and Peter already has a hunch that Prongs fancy Padfoot’s little sister like… about a few months or so?

James doesn’t really even try to hide it, although it was one of the greatest unsolved mysteries on how Sirius still hasn’t figured it out.

“You reckon Padfoot’s just playing dumb? Even an oaf could see Prongs making heart eyes at Y/n.” Peter stated, snacking on some chocolate frogs as he sat on his bed.

Remus rolled his eyes, also sitting in his bed at their dorm room. The boys in conversation were in their quidditch practice. “He’s quite thick, I bet he wouldn’t even know until they started dating.”

“But Y/n’s innocent- doesn’t even know how lovesick James is.”

Peter was utterly wrong about that part.

You know that James likes you, although you try to ignore it, you can’t.

Because you like him back.

“Go out with me?”

You felt yourself blanch, hearing the familiar cheeky voice behind you.

You nearly broke your neck as you spun around to see James holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers while sporting a nervous smile.

“Does my brother know this?”

“Do you think I’d still be here alive when I tell him I’m utterly in love with his younger sister?”

Sirius almost busted a blood vessel when he found out.

Remus had to physically restrain him from lunging at James.

Yea sure, Sirius views James as his brother from another mother BUT BROTHER-IN-LAW?

“Bloody hell, Pads! Calm your balls down!” Remus grunts, back hugging the boy as he desperately tries to wriggle out of his mate’s grasp.

“No! Let me go, Moony! I just want to have a chat with Prongs!”

“Chat my ass! You were about to bloody knock the living daylights out of him earlier!”

It took a while for Sirius to wrap his head around how one of his brother-from-another-mother fancies his younger sibling.

He won’t lie, he felt betrayed by James for a short amount of time. He distanced himself (for a day, lol) but of course, he couldn’t stay mad at James.

Realistically speaking? James and Remus are the ones who are good enough to date you for Sirius.

“Do you love him?”

Sirius approached you one time in a random hallway. Youwere caught off guard with his question. You never saw your brother serious like that before.

“Sirius, what are you talking about?” You tried to feign innocence, but Sirius saw through that.

“James. I know he fancies you. Have you been shagging-“

You quickly clamped Sirius’ mouth with your hand, looking at your surroundings to check if anyone heard what he said.

“Salazar’s balls, brother! I still have my virtue!” You hissed, “Besides, I’m saving it for marriage.” You told him, making his tense shoulders relax.

“Atleast there’s something good that came out of those boring lectures Walburga taught us.”

“I am not a whore like you, brother.” You snickered, a playful smirk present on your face as Sirius slowly processed what you said.

“Why you little-“

It would take some adjustments for Sirius as he slowly takes in the fact that you and James started dating.

It doesnt help the fact that James always proclaims his undying love for you every chance he gets, which is every time.

Although, before he even asks you to be his girl, he talked to Sirius first, asking for his blessing.

Who is Sirius to deny his little sister and Prong’s happiness?

“I just love her so much…” James sighs dreamily, watching you from the Gryffindor table as you ate in silence beside Regulus, who was uncomfortable and tries to shield you from James’ looks (which he finds creepy).

Sirius can feel his eye twitch.

“Can you stop that Prongs? Just say that to her when you’re alone in a room.”

James frowned, “But you don’t allow us to be alone-“

“Exactly, Prongs. I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend—wife even. She’s my younger sister.”

James perked up, “So you’re alright with her being my wife?!”

Hogsmeade dates with James always.

“Honey, you don’t have to get me that necklace.”

He would buy you anything and everything you land your eyes upon more than 1.5 seconds.

He frowns, looking like a kicked puppy. “But you were staring at it!”

“It just crossed my line of vision-“

James certainly went back and secretly bought it for you.

No one can stop him when it comes to spoiling you.

Effie and Fleamont absolutely adores you.

“So, when is the wedding?” Effie smiled, looking at you and James expectantly

Cue Sirius choking in the background.

You blushed as James cleared his throat awkardly, a beet red blush already dusting his cheeks. “Mum…”

Effie blinks, acting innocent. “What? You guys are about to graduate from Hogwarts in… three months or so!”

Your family found out about the relationship.

Walburga’s stinging slap was marked on your cheek. “Have we taught you nothing, girl?!”

Regulus watched worriedly from the side, feeling helpless as Walburga continued to shout and curse at you.

“You good for nothing brat! I should’ve married you off ages ago! To think you’d turn out to be your older brother… Leave! And never come back as you will be no longer welcomed in the house of black!”

Regulus begged to take him with you.

Having nowhere else to go, you knocked on the door of the Potter Manor tiredly, holding your suitcase and Regulus looking around nervously.

Sirius was the one who answered the door.

“she hit you…” James muttered lowly, softly placing his warm hands on your cheek.

“It’s nothing, James.” You shrugged.

“We’ve suffered worse. I’m sure you’ve known that by now.” Regulus told him quietly, not looking up from his cup of warm tea before his eyes flickered to Sirius.

From that moment on, everything seemed to be better.

You’re happy to get out of the abusive household. Bringing Regulus with you, being reunited with your older brother, and hanging out with your boyfriend anytime you want.

Finally graduated from Hogwarts, James decided to pop the question.

“Padfoot..? You in there?” James nervously knocked on Sirius’ bedroom door.

“In here, Prongs! Hold on.” James heard shuffling before the door opened to reveal Sirius rubbing his eyes, seemingly woken up from a nap. He opened the door to let James in his room.

Sirius eyes him, noticing how fidgety one of his best friends are, his mind assumed the worst.

“I swear to Merlin, Prongs. If you got her pregnant and don’t plan to be responsible for it I’ll-“

James sputters, “What?! No! No one’s having a baby!”

Sirius visibly relaxed, “Then what’s gotten you looking so troubled?”

James pulls out a velvet box from his pocket and opened it to reveal an engagement ring.

“Erm… I’m not Y/n, Prongs.”

Cue a face palm from James, “I’m planning to marry your sister, not you, Pads. I’m asking for your blessing.”

Sirius didn’t think twice before giving him his blessing.

Which was why he and Regulus were dragged alongside Remus and Peter to plan a prefect surprise proposal.

“No no, it’s a bit crooked on the right.” James told Regulus, who was setting up the picnic blanket.

“Sirius, remind me again why I have decided to help this stupidly nervous sod?” He deadpanned to his brother.

“It’s for Y/n, Reggie.”

Regulus frowns, scrunching up his nose as he watches James run around like a headless chicken who’s trying to oversee everything.

“Right…”

“Where’s the ring?!”

Regulus could only sigh as he watched James panicking and looking in every nook and cranny, searching for the velvet box with the ring inside— that was obvious in his back pocket, where he placed it five minutes ago.

[tinytennisskirt]

Giving hopeless romantic loser boyfriend Art the silent treatment and ignoring him after a huge argument while he's the " let's talk it out and communicate " type of boyfriend and him losing his mind after that you tell him that you're going to your parents house and that you need some time alone and him losing his mind over it and LITERALLY crying and getting on his knees and begging you not to go because he thinks that you wanna break up with him or something and just the thought of him losing you drives him insane and breaks his heart but you end up changing your mind and comforting him with kisses

Kisses

Summary: request ^^^

Warnings: a little sad, some crying, some begging, implied fight, hurt/comfort

“Really?” You said, your eyes softening, but your voice harsh. Art leaning against the counter, knew he’d messed up with what he just said. His fingertips went cold, feeling like they’d been stuck into a freezer. You stood there for a moment, tears pooling in your eyes, just wondering if Art truly did say what he just said. He stared back, mouth open, but not speaking. Your heart twinged at the lack of defending himself from the comment he made and you shook your head. You walked to your shared bedroom of the apartment you shared and you grabbed your bag, shoving some clothes in it, then going to the bathroom and taking your necessities.

Art paced the kitchen thinking of a way to backpedal successfully and properly apologize but then it was just a bit late. You passed him, going into the kitchen where he stood and you didn’t say a word, Art noticed the bag in your hand as you pulled your allergy medication from the cabinet and stuffed it in your bag. Art’s whole body went cold, “What- where are you going?” He asked. No reply. You didn’t even look at him as you went to college more clothes and things from the bedroom. It wasn’t everything, you weren’t going, but to Art there was no guarantee of that. He followed you as you went to the linen closet, “Please, I’m sorry- I was about to say I was sorry, I just needed a second, I didn’t mean it.” He pleaded.

You didn’t speak, you just looked at him, tears falling, and pressed your lips together. You’d never looked at him like that, so disappointed in the fact he had gone so far in an argument. He softened even more, “Baby, can we talk about it? I want to explain, I want to apologize properly if you’ll listen,” he followed you around like some lost puppy, trying to reason with every doorframe you passed. You slipped around him. “We can talk this out. Where are you going?”

You looked him in the eyes, the hurt in your eyes framed by wet eyelashes. “I’m going to my parents.” You said firmly. And Art knew you disliked them, he knew you didn’t have a great relationship but you’d rather go there? He had fucked up.

“No, please stay, Y/N, we can talk it out, we always talk it out, I’m sorry, please listen,” he said, a bit more of a beg to his voice. He needed it in your head that it was something that slipped out, he didn’t think- he didn’t think and he could take responsibility for it. The way you were packing it looked like you didn’t plan on coming back for a while… if you ever did.

Your relationship was normal, there were small fights because nobody was ever perfect. Sometimes you caused them, sometimes he did, but there was always forgiveness. Nobody ever walked out.

“What do I need to do? I’ll do anything, I love you and I’m so sorry,” he said as you firmly kept collecting the things you needed. They were so scattered, you had to pass him over and over. Your heart pounded hard in your chest and you wanted to sob because you couldn’t face someone you loved, they had hurt you. Art had hurt you for the first time. “Y/N, please listen, all I’m asking, stay enough to listen. We can talk about this, we have to talk about this. Please.” He said. You were nearly done and he knew it.

You packed what was last of what you needed and Art was still trying, beyond frustrated. He had faith in issues being resolved in conversation and you would hardly look at him, let alone speak. This was new, this felt different, and Art didn’t know what to do with it because things had never been so bad. And you were leaving?

Art’s hands gently came to rest on the sides of your shoulders and slid up your neck, cupping the sides of your face but not truly holding, just trying to get you to listen. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I- hey-“ You pulled away, Art’s heart aching. His eyes felt hot with tears, he hadn’t cried in ages, feeling it creep up a feeling he no long found familiar. He felt like a child all pent up and frustrated but he tried to face this so he could keep you here and fix things before the damage set in, but it was too late.

“Please,” his voice broke just slightly. This was a rare response, something desperate in him begging. Pleading. Something in him warned that if you left you might not come back and he couldn’t take it. He placed a hand on his own chest, over his heart, following you over your last few task. He clutched at the place his heart was, speaking from it, which was what he should have done all around. “I love you, I’m sorry.”

And you loved him too. But you needed to think. And maybe reevaluate. And just… have time to see past it. You loved Art more than anything and it hurt to see him beg but you couldn’t stick around in the puddle of hurt. His hands grazed your skin just gently, you could tell he was afraid to touch you and that alone made your chest tighten.

It tightened more at the sight of his eyes, filled with tears and his nose pink from fighting them from falling. He was so pretty. Gorgeous boy, you watched one of his tears fall as you passed and you were nearly done, heading toward the door as you packed and you heard Art sob. It was something you’d never heard and it was almost as if you could hear your heart shatter. He was standing straight, head in his one hand that stretched over his eyes like a visor so you couldn’t see. But you heard.

You were leaving and nothing he was saying was stopping you. He didn’t know what else to do, he broke. The tears he’d been stopping had fallen from the gate and poured down his face. You hated the sound, the sight, but you walked toward the door.

“Please,” he said, his normal voice just a little broken. He walked over to where you were and tried to stop you without touching or grabbing you. “Please just tell me how to go forward, tell me what I need to do to apologize and make a change, just don’t go. Please.” He kept his voice as straight as he could, looking at you with sad eyes, tears staining both of his cheeks and his nose even more pink. “I’m begging you, I am begging you to talk this out with me, I will listen, I’ll be quiet, just let me apologize and don’t go.”

You wanted to cry harder at the sight of him in such distress, it tugged at your heart strings. “I have to have some time to think about this. Us,” you said, trying not to let your own voice break. It sounded worse than it was. You just needed time.

He inhaled sharply, taking your words the way you didn’t mean to mean them. “I was just-“ he cleared his throat but only ended up putting his head in his hand again, more tears falling straight from his eyes to the floor. “Please don’t leave.”

He tried to wipe his eyes but obviously it was no use and it hurt you just the way it hurt him. “I-“ he couldn’t get the words out over the lump in his throat. But he took a knee just the way he was, hurting, proving that he was in fact going to beg for the first time in his life. Both knees.

Your own tears started to fall as he placed both hands gently on the back of your legs, thumbs gently grazing over where they held. “Please don’t leave,” he said, slight break on don’t, but straight enough. “I love you, please don’t leave. Talk to me, please. Please stay. Please.” He begged. “Let me fix this, I need to fix this, please don’t leave.”

You covered your mouth to stop yourself from crying any harder audibly. He was sure that if you walked out, you wouldn’t be returning unless it was to pick up your things- you’d never wanted to walk out ever before. Which was why Art never had to beg like this. He never wanted to. His heart hurt physically which meant he would have to get on his knees and beg before you walk out the door and shatter it completely. His head rested against your legs, eyes shut, mess of curls your only sight. “I’ll do anything.” He said, another sob shaking him just slightly. “Please just stay. I didn’t mean it, I wouldn’t ever mean it, it slipped out and I would- I will do anything to take it back and change to make it better, I’m so sorry.” He cried. “I’m so sorry.”

And it’s not that you didn’t believe him. You’d slipped up and said things you didn’t mean before, it’s that you weren’t sure how to follow through. You wiped your eyes and looked at Art who was pleading, he had never pleaded like this before, and it made you feel like your ribs were being crushed by this feeling.

And your sense, the sense of being in his position once, saying something you didn’t mean- it began to melt into your thoughts. If he had walked out you would have died. You might have begged just the same. You cried then, you cried now. And you wiped your eyes one more time before dropping your hands down, one of them coming to rest on the top of Art’s head.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. You had acted without thinking, Art wouldn’t have done this to you when you fucked up this badly. He raised his head just a little and you said it again, fighting tears again. “I’m so sorry.” You replied.

“No- why-“ he said, beautiful tear-stained eyes looking at you. You tilted your head and covered your face, embarrassed by your rash actions. As valid as your feelings were, you didn’t need to hurt him back. You huffed put a breath, dropping to your knees in front of him, on level with him. He looked a bit confused.

“I’m sorry,” you said, sniffling. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m sorry.”

He put his head in his hands and you immediately leaned into him, pulling him into a hug, a big hug that you both needed. A tight embrace, scrambling to hold each other tighter than what was possible. “I love you,” you said, holding his head when he buried his face in your neck. “I’m sorry too, I’m so sorry.”

He sighed, holding you close. You kissed whatever you could, whatever was in access, kissing his head, his hair, his ear, his cheek. He pulled away from your shoulder just slightly and you grabbed his face, kissing his tear-stained cheeks, his eye, his brow, his forehead. “I love you too,” he said, sniffling as well, but the tears stopped. “You’re staying?” He smiled just a bit from all the kisses but otherwise his heart was in need of the confirmation.

“I’m staying,” you said, shoving your bag away from you both and continuing to kiss his face all over. “I know you didn’t mean it, I know. I’m sorry.” You apologized.

“You don’t have to be-“ he got kissed on the lips quickly but he didn’t let you kiss him on the cheek another time- he just reached out and pulled you into a kiss, a real kiss, strong and perfect and beautiful. Better than any make-up kiss ever.

A moment passed, a minute or two of gentle, yet powerful kisses, and Art pulled away, finishing his sentence. “- you don’t have to be sorry. I was wrong, what I said was wrong. I didn’t mean it, I promise.”

“I know. It’s okay,” you said. “We’ll be okay.”

You continued to kiss whatever skin he had exposed. All over, everywhere on his face, neck, eyes, even. And you got up, moving your bag aside and pulling him to the couch. The apologies went back and forth and a conversation about the argument ensued just like anything else. And you talked it out to completion, Art helping you unpack the bag. Nothing of the sort happened again, you both made sure of it. He loved you and you loved him and there was a new policy that nobody would try to walk out on each other again. And it stuck, more than the lipstick all over Art’s face.

[russellsppttemplates]

Love notes (Charles Leclerc)

A look into Charles' notebook allows words and feelings to be exposed

Note: english is not my first language. The request didn't specify this, but friends to lovers was the first thing that popped into my mind and I know I'm not the only one whose favourite trope is that one so I did it ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: mentions Charles' father and his passing and implications of the loss of someone close to the reader

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"And you want me to tell you that code?", you asked Charles over the phone.

Your boyfriend needed to go to the bank to sort a few errands out, and since you had finished moving the last boxes of your belongings to his apartment, you stayed back to tidy them and organise them within the apartment. As it turns out, he forgot to take the documents with the codes.

"Yes, please amour - it's in my notebook on my desk on the office", Charles asked, "I think I went as far as taking the paper out a little so it peeks out but I forgot to take it with me", you could hear the smile and blush on his face.

"Let me go there - don't you mind me looking on your notebook though?", you said as you moved through the apartment, "by the way, I have already found some space in the kitchen for mug collection - yay! Okay, found the notebook - is it the document with your signature or the one that has the details?", you questioned.

"The one with the signature, at the end, left side", Charles repeated what the bank assistant was telling him so he could help you find what he wanted, "and it's the third and fifth number on the Mobile Key".

"Okay, I have it - it's 4 and 1", you informed him, "those are the third and fifth numbers".

"Merci amour, I don't think I need anything else! Once I finish up here, I'll head home to you, I love you! And Y/N, I trust you with everything I have - I have nothing to hide", he offered, making you bid him goodbye before ending the call.

His words ressonated with you as you flickered through the pages, noticing some doddles and racing notes before you decided to look at it from the beggining.

The first page had what looked like a poem and it dated back to the end of 2016.

My father told me to be careful

- Try to slow down a little

You don't ponder nor stay still

You don't belong or give yourself to anywhere

He said - my boy, you know what you're capable of

The world awaits you, go ahead and smile

You don't want to be left behind

It's not been easy dealing with everything. There's hope and there's the want to do more to prove everyone that I belong in Formula One. Still, I'm happy that Prema decided to have me race for them next year in Formula Two and things should go up from there. Time and patience, work and rest. Spending time with the people I love most and care about me the most.

Y/N also progressed on her studies and she's doing really well - she makes our friend group very proud! The guys are investing on their careers too and it's nice to see that, in a way, we're all growing up.

The page went on about all the whereabouts of the group, who had gotten together with someone, who had moved out of their parents' house and the ones who got work offers. There were jotted up plans for the summer holidays that, in hindsight, were mostly realized.

When you turned it to the next one, the poem continued with the same tone.

My mother said to me

- You have to see what's happening

That girl is much more than a friend

And you don't want to lose her

She reads it in my eyes

Or in my open soul

I don't know how she does it

But no matter how much I deny it

My mother is always right

I really like Y/N. Not just as a friend, but also as someone who I want to share my life with.

Whenever someone wonders how I think my life will be like in five, ten, fifteen years, she's always there. There's racing - me climbing up the ladder to points, podiums, wins and championships -, and there is my family.

Y/N and our own family.

Mum claims she noticed it since we were kids and that right now is the right time. Y/N is single again and I can't afford to lose her. Lose her as a friend or lose the opportunity to confess my feelings, or the worst one: lose her because she doesn't feel the same or feel like being in a relationship right now?

It's funny how this works, how much I care about her and how it hurts me when she isn't feeling well. Or how bad I feel because I keep missing some of her university milestones because I'm racing somewhere in the world but she always call me and I'm right in her hand while her family and our friends are in the stands or waiting area.

Even though I'm the one that's furthest away, she keeps me close.

Charles had notes about you? He always carried the little notebook around but you assumed it was because of important information he wrote there. You didn't expect this.

His words rang in your ears as, while your boyfriend had told you he had been crushing on you for a while, he had never admitted feeling this doubt. Not to this extent.

Suddenly, it felt like you were taking a look from a different angle at Charles' soul. The intimacy and vulnerability wasn't foreign and you fell in love with him a little bit more.

Today is the day to get closer

To face her and see what she says

And if luck follows me

As I'm writing this, I hope Y/N is getting ready to meet me in the park. She looks beautiful in anything, but I'm hoping she wears one of her dresses that make her look like a real life princess.

Maybe we will be happy

What I have planned isn't elaborate, because I don't think she would like a big production, and I hope it's enough to show her where I stand.

I asked maman for some help with the cakes and cookies and got the rest from the shop, we're going to have a picnic and I've decided today is the day where I tell her how I fell about her.

There is no point in hiding it, and Joris and Riccardo seem so sure that she shares the same affection.

Today is the day to grab her

I hope she does.

To be with the one I always wanted

And if the nervous voice doesn't fail

Y/N said yes to being my girlfriend!!! As it turns out, she does feel the same and we both agree that it was a mixture of stubbornness and bad timing for eachother. Now, it's the right place and the right time.

I hope we will be happy

The memory is clear as day on your mind.

I confessed how much I love her and she reciprocated it.

Charles asked you to meet up with him at the park because he wanted to talk to you. The seriousness of the text was confirmed when you arrived, Charles pacing around the picnic blanket until his eyes found yours.

"I can't pretend anymore", he said, "you're the first person I look for when I get somewhere I know you will be too, I can't stand to see you hurt or upset and I will kick myself every day if I'm ever the reason you hurt, which I hope I'll never be. You deserve the world, Y/N, the moon and the stars, and I'm going to get them for you because I love you", he offered.

You had been so dumbfounded that you could only approach him and kiss his lips, cupping his face closer to yours, "I've been in love with you for so long, Charles", you whispered back.

It was the day where your love story truly began despite having existed for all of your childhood. You were his and he was yours.

Come with me, love is not time

Continuing to look through the notebook, you spotted some racing notes with numbers and acronyms you weren't sure that they meant, taking a while to find another page that had similar writing.

It's not even time that does it

Come with me, love is the moment

In which I give myself

Y/N is asleep right now as we fly back home after the race. She hasn't left my side and I think this is the first time she's sleeping since we got the news. We knew it was coming, but it doesn't mean that it hurts any less.

In which you give yourself

The feeling is unbearable. Someone who gives you so much also takes so much away from you when they go away. There's so much to go through, and all of the feelings haven't come up yet.

Maman is waiting for us with Lorenzo and Arthur, and I hope we will all find peace with this heavy feeling together.

Y/N told me the feeling may never leave, it creeps up when you least expect it and there are no rules to it.

Time is precious and I want to spend as much time as I can with the ones I love. God knows I did that with papa and it still feels like it wasn't enough.

The creak of the floorboards alerted you that someone else was inside the apartment before Charles' head peeked, "Hello, mon ange", he smiled, coming up to kiss your forehead.

It's these moments where we're not doing anything particular or special that mean the most. Y/N has given me all she's got and I've given her all of me, at the end it's the most human thing to do. Be there. Be present. Allow the other to feel everything they need to feel and protect them. Y/N has protected me and she's never let me doubt that we are for each other.

"I looked through these - I didn't mean to invade your privacy but I got curious", you admitted. It would be no use to lie about it or try to hide it away.

Time will wait, stop there

"Did you like what you found?", Charles asked, pulling the other office chair to sit at the table with you, "I have this one here that I really like actually", he flickered through the pages.

So I can stay like this looking at you

Time knows well, even time understands

That someone doesn't rush

"I wrote this one when we were on holiday, it the boat", Charles tapped the page, "you looked so beautiful that day and I felt like I was running out of time to appreciate you. Then I spent the whole afternoon watching you and I felt like time slowed down a little bit because it knew I was appreciating you", he charmed.

That looks at you like I do

"These are very beautiful, Charles - this one is so beautiful", you smiled, kissing his cheek and cuddling up to his arm as he continued to leaf through the notebook.

Call me an adventure and come and have an adventure

There were also drawings and loose poems along with some photos he kept of you two. One of the hike you had done in Ibiza last year caught your eye. You stood on top of the rock and by the way your arms were positioned, you were calling Charles to join you in there while he snapped the picture.

Change my plans and I promise I'll believe

That I'm the only one you want to see when you wake up

Your haven if the world collapses

Come and deceive me with that look of yours

The sweet way that trips me and without counting

Quench my thirst with a kiss to shut me up

Make me a poem and let me stay

I do not forget

But I want to hear from your mouth all the words that make me blush

Speak softly in my ear

And grab my hand

"This was last year, one of the seasons where I had to deal with so much disappointment in racing, and you never let go. You were there to hold me everytime things didn't go well, to celebrate my achievements and my podiums, and you still make it feel like an adventure every single day", Charles mused, "being loved by you is assuring, comforting, liberating, soothing, amazing, incredible and the best feeling I have on the world! Loving you? It's as incredible as it is a big responsibility because I have to make sure the adventure is still there and that we're both in it", Charles admitted.

Before the night is over

"Being loved by you makes me feel like the only other person in the world", you looked up at him.

"Loving you is making sure the time stops when you're with me so I can tell you all the silly stories I know just to make you smile, all of this to make sure you know you're the reason behind my happiness and the one behind the longing that never lies when you're not there. It's hugging you back tight and have my heart wide open because it's yours to take", he sighed with a smile on his face.

"I love you, Charles - being loved by you is the best thing I get to experience in this life", you smiled before kissing his lips.

"This helps me a lot when you're not with me, it's like I can talk to you", Charles muttered, "and I get to have the memories written out too, you never know when this can come in handy".

"You have no excuse if your speech in our wedding feels impersonal or doesn't have any memories then", you joked as Charles' finger lightly pressed down on the remaining pages of the notebook, making sure you don't get the idea to flicker through the random pages he has used to doodle the perfect engagement ring for you, smiling at the thought of having you be his forever.

"I definitely don't, amour - I'll make sure it's a good one when the time comes", he smiled.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

König w/ a Mommy Kink

Warnings: 18+, mommy kink, breeding kink, kinda submissive König, mention of plugs, smut, Completely Inaccurate use of German, pet names, AFAB Reader, etc.

This is in my brain. I’m now making it your problem.

There’s nothing in this man’s history to suggest parental issues, but I can definitely see him having a mommy kink.

When he’s in a subby mood, he’ll beg you to ride him

something about seeing you on top makes him weak

The first time you discovered König mommy kink was completely accidental: you'd managed to hit his sweet spot and, reduced to a moaning mess, König yelled, clear as day, something obscene.

"M-Mutter!"

You didn't realise what it was at the time, assuming it was something in German, but you'd never heard this before, regardless of context.

You stopped bouncing on him, your hands on his chest, and leaned down to him.

"What was that, baby?"

König didn't reply, his face flushed with either exasperation or embarrasment - it was impossible to tell.

When you came to realise he wasn't going to talk, you slid a hand up his throat and gripped his jaw, forcing him to look at you.

"I said, what was that?"

König eyes couldn't meet yours, eyes settling somewhere on your chest instead.

"Mutter," he said, voice low, quiet. He swallowed, feeling you weren't going to let up.

"It means 'Mother' in German."

Your heart jumped in your chest, like you'd discovered an island no one else had.

König couldn't say a thing, worried he'd frightened you off with his...particular interests.

Instead, you smiled, releasing his jaw and returning to his chest.

"Alright," you said softly, half-lidded gaze making König weak with anticipation.

"I'll take care of you, baby. You gonna let me do that?"

König couldn't get the words out quick enough, a stream of hasty 'yes's falling from him.

After that initial discovery, you teased König for his mommy kink.

Any chance you got - you were relentless.

"König, sweetie, can you come and help mommy out in the kitchen?"

"Sure thi- wait...what did you say?"

And his face would break out in a contained blush each time.

You knew when to stop, though; you weren't a monster.

Whenever you were topping, you'd call him "baby boy,"; "baby,"; "sweetie," - things like that.

And he'd whine and moan every time.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?"

"Y-yes, mutter..."

One night, you asked him if he wanted you to breastfeed you.

You had no milk in you, obviously, but that didn't stop König.

While he sucked on you, you stroked his hair, calling him a "good boy," - telling him how you'd "have to let you put a baby in me someday,"

His eyes lit up at that.

And then you unearthed his breeding kink.

He loves you, wants to possess you in ways nobody else can, and to have something he literally put inside you was, in his eyes, the best way to do it.

Calls you mutter when he's trying to breed you, though for a different reason.

"You'll be such a good mother to our children, my love," he'd say, panting as he slammed into you.

He wouldn't leave until he knew you were satisfied and full.

And my god, this man won't stop until you're passed out beneath him, unable to take any more of him, his cum leaking out of you.

Is the type to plug you, either with his cock or an actual plug.

Won't let you take it out. It's staying.

Can get a bit dominant when you disobey him.

"Did I say you could do that, baby?"

Transitions into a daddy kink.

This man's transitioning through the kink spectrum fr.

When he's topping, he'll make you call him daddy.

Gives him a feeling of power.

If you want some more dominant König, read this.

Overall, you just make him feel so safe, so loved - he could scarcely think of any other name to call you except mutter (though, of course, not exactly appropriate in an every day context).

He loves you more than absolutely anything, and there are no limits as to what he would do for you.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[babymetaldoll]

First day (Spencer Reid x fem!reader)

Part of the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge @aperrywilliams and I are hosting during October.

Event Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Summary: Spencer is having a lot of problems dealing with his daughter's first day of school. 

Word count: 1.720

Warnings: Just pure fluff 

A/N: Hey! this was so sweet to write, I hope you enjoy it. 

- “I’m not ready.” - I whisper as I look at my little five-year-old daughter preparing for her first official school day. She is putting all the snacks my wife got ready for her into her lunchbox, and we both stare at her in adoration from the other side of the kitchen counter.

Little Rose is ecstatic. She has been talking about this all week. We visited her classroom and met her teacher already, and since then, all she wants is to come back to school, learn, and make friends. 

- “I’m never gonna be ready.” - I add and my wife turns to me with a small smile as my eyes keep fixed on our baby girl. Of course, I know this is hard for her as well. Our girl is growing up too fast, life is passing us so quickly. 

- “It’s just her first day of school, not her first date. Though that might happen soon now that she will be meeting boys.” 

- “Are you trying to calm me down?”- I turn to her, frowning, and she just laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist. 

- “Absolutely not, but I love how you are freaking out so much.” 

- “Ready! Mommy! Daddy!”- Rosie yells and grabs her backpack. - “Let’s go to school!” 

- “Ok lovebug, we are coming.”- (Y/N) walks to her and makes sure all her things are packed correctly. Then, she helps our daughter put on her little jacket and shoes as I shake myself from my intrusive thoughts and follow their moves. 

My wife takes a few pictures of our daughter at our front porch holding a letter board that reads “Rosie’s first day of school” and somehow that makes it all even more real, and painful. It’s happening. My little girl is going to school. 

It’s a short ride from our house to Rosie’s primary school. In less than ten minutes, I’m parking the car outside, feeling the knot in my throat getting tighter as the time to let my baby girl alone is inevitable. 

- “Ready to learn, lovebug?”- (Y/N) takes our daughter from her chair and grabs her backpack. Rosie jumps, clearly excited, and I try to smile though I’m in fact, fighting the tears. 

- “Yes! I wanna learn!”

- “Dad and I will be waiting for you right here at four, ok?”- my wife assures her. Of course, we asked for the entire week off work, to join Rose on her first day and to be there for her in case of any adaptation issues during the first few days.   

- “Come here, lovebug.”- I kneel in front of her and wrap my arms around her, feeling her tiny hands on my neck.- “Do you want us to walk you to your classroom?”

- “Yes, Daddy! please!”

Finally, the answer I actually wanted to hear. But before we walk into the main hall, Miss Daisy welcomes us with a big smile and looks at our daughter. 

- “Hello there, little one! ready for your first day?”

- “Yes!”

I thought Rose would be nervous, I don’t know why, maybe ‘cos I wanted to believe she was going to be as terrified as I was of the unknown at her age. It’s so shocking to see she has grown so differently. So strong and independent. I know it’s a sign (Y/N) and I have done a good job as her parents. But still, it hurts to know she doesn’t depend on us as much as she did a few years ago. And it will only get worse from this day on. 

She is still just five years old, I know I’m getting ahead with these thoughts, but I can’t stop them. The only thing that takes me from my mind is Rosie’s hand, leaving mine. 

- “Bye, Daddy!”- and she waves as she takes a few steps closer to Miss Daisy. 

- “Parents are allowed only to this point.”- my wife explains, probably noticing I was absolutely lost in my own head. I kneel again and open my arms. 

- “One more hug for daddy!”- I request my daughter, and she replies running to me, giggling. The sound of those giggles can fix anything wrong in my life, I swear. 

- “I love you so much, lovebug. Be good today.”- I whisper and kiss her cheeks a few times. 

- “Yes, Daddy.”

(Y/N) wraps her arms around our daughter, kissing her and wishing her a good day. She also takes a few more pictures as Rose walks the hall with the teacher and a few more kids. She is already talking with another little girl. I would have never done that. My daughter is already stronger and better than me. That makes me feel proud. 

Nevertheless, that doesn’t stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. I have to bite my lips not to burst out crying in that school lobby. My wife wipes her own tears as I wrap an arm around her, the two of us still staring at our little girl, walking away from us, not looking back once the entire time. 

- “I wasn’t ready.”- I whisper and sigh. (Y/N) rests her head against my arm in silence for a few seconds. 

- “I knew it was going to be painful.”- she finally whispers.- “And I know it’s normal, but still, it’s such a big reality check to watch her walking away from us.” 

We both sigh and stare until our daughter is out of sight. I hold her hand as we start walking back to the car and somehow, I feel a little empty now that Rose isn’t here. 

- “Wanna grab coffee?”- my wife asks as we get into the car.- “Technically, we have the entire day for us.”

- “Coffee sounds great, honey.”  

I drive us to our favorite place, and as we sit to wait for the waitress, I speak my mind. 

- “Do you think she is ok?” 

- “Yes. You know if there was anything wrong they would call us.”

- “I know… but, what if she is struggling to tell the teacher she isn’t feeling good?”

- “When has Rose Diana Reid not spoken her mind?”- (Y/N) asks and smiles.- “That little girl has a very strong voice, and you know it. She convinced you to eat more greens for your health.”

I chuckle and just nod. The waitress finally arrives and gets our order and once we are alone again, (Y/N) holds my hand upon the table and asks.   

- “Why are you so worried?”

I pause and look at her, knowing she is fully aware of my high school experience and how painful it had been. So I guess, though it’s obvious, I should just get it off my chest.  

- “What if… what if someone is mean to her?”- (Y/N) squeezes my hand and smiles at me sweetly. 

- “If that ever happens, and I’m sure it will not, she knows what to do. Starts with “kick” and ends with “asses”, just like we taught her.”

I chuckle at those words. She is right about it, we have taught our little kid to be strong and stand her ground. But yet, I can’t help but be worried. She is my baby. 

- “I know, but I just don’t want her to go through any of the things I did when I was in school.” 

- “Stop projecting.”- my wife says and holds my hand.

- “I am not.”

- “Yes, you are. You just have to trust we’ve given her all the tools she needs to stand up for herself. She is not a baby anymore, she is a girl. A very smart, sweet, and strong girl.”

- “Just like her mother.”- I whisper and my wife just smiles. 

- “You are smart, sweet, and strong as well, Spencer.” 

I just smile and stare at her. 

- “I love you so much.”- the words come out as a whisper, probably ‘cause I feel so emotional at the moment I think I might start crying. It’s not my best moment. By far. 

- “I love you too, Spencer.”- (Y/N) smiles at me and scoots closer to kiss my cheek.- “I think I have something that might cheer you up.”

- “What?”

My wife just stares at me in silence, smiling for a few seconds, before she starts talking again. 

- “I think the reason why you are so sad about Rose going to school is because she is growing up too fast and she is not your baby anymore.”

- “There is no need to shove it on my face.”- I reply and pretend to be in pain. (Y/N) opens her bag and takes an envelope. 

- “So this might make you feel better.”

- “What is it? Is everything ok?”- I ask her as I start reading.

- “Everything is perfect” 

- “Your HCG levels are so high”- I mumble as I read the results. She just smiles and nods. I read the exam in a second, but the information doesn’t seem to make sense.

- “But… does.. is it?”- I look at her in shock and she just smiles. 

- “I’m six weeks pregnant, Spencer. So get ready for baby Reid number two.”

I wide open my eyes as I hear her say those words. My heart is rising inside my chest and I hold her close to my body, not believing what is happening. 

- “Are you sure?”

- “Very sure, honey.”

- “My god, I love you so much!”- I say and kiss her lips as soon as I can. She giggles and kisses me, but the waitress appears that moment with all our food and we have to move apart for a moment at least. 

- “When did you first know?”

- “I was late and had scheduled an appointment with my doctor already, so I thought, what the hell, let’s make a test. And when it came positive I knew I had to wait for a special moment to tell you.” 

- “So you waited until I was having a serious meltdown during our daughter���s first day at school?”- and she just smiles and nods. - “I love you so much.”

- “I love you more.”

- “I seriously doubt it.”

[thetriumphantpanda]

nobody sees, nobody knows

Alright, here we are, me adding my two cents into the dbf!Joel trope which we all love so much. I've read so many incredible fics like this so hopefully mine can stand up with them all. This will be a series, so strap in for more of our favourite neighbourhood DILF.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Back to Texas with a degree under your belt and a school girl fantasy to fuck your dad's best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings | I mean, dbf!Joel comes with his own warning right? Other than that, swearing, alcohol consumption, age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), dirty talk, and fingering.

Word Count | 3.3K

PART 2 | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about summer in Texas that just hit differently. The way the heat crawled on your skin from the moment you woke up to the moment you tried to sleep at night. The way your father used it as an excuse to cook primarily on the grill, regardless of the food, and the way your mother always made sure the fridge was stocked with cold drinks. The way traffic seemed to cease to exist during the high points of the day, meaning you went to the store every day at midday to buy ice cream. The haze you got from sipping cold beer by your parents’ pool which made you want to do reckless things like you’d done in New York before you realized that the beady eyes of your parents would be all over you if you tried. Reckless things like tell Joel Miller you’d wanted to fuck him for years. 

Every time you’d come home from school, and he’d be there you could have sworn he’d just gotten more and more attractive. The last time you were home, for Christmas and New Year’s, you could have sworn he’d started at the gym, his biceps bulging in the arms of his fitted t-shirt, when your dad commented on it, he's chalked it down to particularly heavy lifting on the job he was working then. He’d had his hair cut in a way that made his face even more handsome and you’re pretty sure the last few times you’d been home he’d noticed how you’d flourished too. 

There were moments where you’d catch his eyes as they drew themselves up your legs, or the time you decided to test your theory and wear a low-cut top and your best bra to a dinner party. His eyes had trained on your chest for most of the night, there was a moment where you’d stood up and leaned over the table to pick up the salt instead of asking him to pass it. He’d choked on his drink and your dad had slapped his back to try and help him. At least you knew he was thinking like you. 

Neither of you had tried crossing the line though. Past the point of no return. You wanted him to make the first move, save yourself the embarrassment of rejection if it came, but it felt like waiting for Joel Miller to kiss you was like waiting for rain in the drought Texas was currently experiencing. Useless and disappointing. You wished sometimes that you could burrow into his brain and figure out what it was that he was really thinking about you. You suspected there would be some code of honour he was sticking to because you were his best friend’s daughter – sure it might complicate things, but you weren’t going to be back in Texas forever – what was the worst that could happen during the secret, torrid affair you’d been cooking up in your head since you arrived back from college a week ago? 

 “Did you hear me when I spoke to you?” Your mother’s voice pulled you from the daydream you were having whilst polishing the cutlery. 

“Sorry mom, I was miles away.” 

“I know!” She exclaims, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you came back, you’ve been away with the fairies,” She sighs, “I said, once you’ve set the cutlery out back can you help your dad with filling the fridge with the beer, please?” 

You hum in agreement which is enough to send her back to the endless chopping she seems to be doing at the kitchen counter. It was just a cookout with the Millers and few other family friends to celebrate your return, but you think your mother thinks she’s catering for a garden party at the White House with the number of sides she’s preparing. 

You make quick work of the rest of the cutlery, wanting to avoid any more questions about why you seem miles away all the time – you can’t exactly tell your mother it’s because you’re thinking about how Joel might eat your pussy.

“Need any help, old man?” You greet your dad in the garage, he’s on his knee’s pulling out bottles of Budweiser to stack in the fridge. 

“Here, grab these and start putting them in,” He’s smiling, he’s always been an overly happy and laid-back man, “I hope we’ve got enough in.” 

“How many people are you expecting?” You chuckle, taking a bottle from him to add to the growing number already stacked on the shelves. 

“Probably ten or so,” Hu shrugs, “But one of those people is Tommy Miller and he’s not changed a bit since you’ve been away.” 

“Between your drinks and mom’s sides we could host the entire neighborhood.” You joke. 

You continue to fill the fridge up with drinks until there’s no room left. Your dad stores the leftover crates next to it for refilling throughout the evening, “Now, go and make yourself look nice, everyone’ll be here soon.” 

*

You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t picked your shortest and lowest cut dress for the evening. It was a pale blue colour, with pink flowers dotted about the material. It fell to your mid-thigh and you had to keep reminded yourself to kneel down instead of bending over, in case people who you didn’t want to look caught an eyeful of the scant lace covering your ass. 

There are a few people milling around already, cold beers in hand, mainly some of your dad’s older friends, who have all congratulated you on graduating and then moved on to talk about mundane neighborhood gossip. 

“Now, where is that smartass?” You hear from the sliding doors; it’s Tommy and he’s bounding over to you to give you a hug. 

He scoops you up into a bone breaking hug, “Congratulation’s girl, your dad said you graduated top of the class!” 

He’s set you down and you can see Joel standing awkwardly next to him, “He’s exaggerating, I wasn’t top, although pretty close to it,” You turn to Joel, “Hey there.” He bends down to give you a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek. 

“Good to see you back, sweetheart.” 

“Good to see you too, Joel,” You chirp in response, “Where’s Sarah?” 

“She’s at camp for the first part of the summer,” He explains, “Back in a couple’a weeks, she’ll be thrilled to see you again.” 

“Boys!” Your dad’s booming voice interrupts your conversation, “Good to see you both!” He turns to you, “Why don’t you go and get these two some beers, I need to speak to them about fixin’ up the attic.” 

You turn quietly and head for the garage. Of course, you’d become waitress at your own welcome home party. It takes no time at all for you to come back with three beers, two for the Miller brothers and one for yourself. You hand them off wordlessly, but you don’t miss how Joel grips the bottle just above your fingers, brushing against them. Of all the places for him to grab the bottle, that couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? 

The rest of the evening goes by as expected. You spend most of it running around helping your mom set the food out, fetching more beers for everyone and trying to field questions from everyone about what you’re going to do in Texas with an MA in Archival Studies. You bite your tongue every time, and reply with something like, “I think I’ll probably work in an archive.” 

The night is winding down, your mom already in bed having finished her wine too quickly, your dad sat outside in the quickly fading sunlight with Joel and Tommy and a few other stragglers. It fell to you to make aa start on the dishes, which is what you were currently doing. Rinsing them off over the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher, pausing long enough each time to take a sip of lukewarm beer. 

“They got you tidyin’ up your own party?” You hear from behind you. It’s Joel. 

“I’m the only one sober enough not to break anything.” You shrug without turning around to face him. 

“Seems a little unfair if you ask me, sweetheart.” 

“Well, why don’t you make yourself useful and help?” You counter, “Then I can be sat outside drinkin’ beer with you all.” 

You hear his boots on the floor and then he’s next to you, reaching around to grab the pile of cutlery on the side, he opens the dishwasher further to put the cutlery in their designated tray and then stop, “Has no-one ever taught you how to stack a dishwasher?” 

You pause in your rinsing to look up at him for the first time, “What do you mean?” 

“This is awful sweetheart,” He chuckles, “You’ve got the bowls and plates in the wrong place – you’ll be doing three washes if you carry on like this.” 

“Well, go on then, maestro, show me how to stack it.” 

He’s unloading everything you’ve put in so far, apart from what you suspect he thinks was his expertly placed cutlery, and you’re watching as he’s stacking in completely differently to you. Annoyingly he’s not wrong, the way he’s doing it means you’ll likely fit everything in at once, “Can’t believe you’ve lived on your own for five years and didn’t learn how to stack a dishwasher.” 

“Joel, I was in a dingy studio apartment in the ass end of New York, you think I had a dishwasher?” 

“Well, consider yourself taught now, I don’t ever wanna see a dishwasher looking anything less than perfect, you hear me?” 

“Loud and clear, Mr Miller.” You watch as his eyebrows raise at your new greeting, oh. He liked that. 

He picks up your almost empty beer bottle and hands it to you, “Go on, down the rest,” He’s grinning, “Then go and sit down and I’ll get you a fresh one.” 

You decide to push it a little further, “Yes, sir.” You watch as he swallows deeply at your words before you’re brushing past him, far too close than necessary to go and sit down. 

It’s another hour of sitting around in the garden before everyone else is gone – Tommy is finishing off his beer and telling Joel he’ll be heading to his to crash. 

“I’m going to call it a night too,” Your dad says, “Stay and finish your drink though Joel, there’s no rush, I’m sure this one can keep you company with her stories from New York.” 

And then you’re alone with him, finally. He’s taking a long drink from his beer bottle, which you mirror, realizing suddenly that you didn’t eat much, and you’ve drunk far more than you probably should. You’re not drunk, but there’s a pleasant buzz through your body that’s making your eyelids a little heavy. 

When the light goes off in your parents’ room, you figure it’s safe, “I’ve seen you staring at me, you know.” 

He doesn’t miss a beat, “You make it hard not to, sweetheart.” 

“Do you want me, Joel?” You don’t know where you’ve come from all of a sudden, but this confident girl isn’t someone you recognize. 

“It ain’t a question of wantin’ you sweetheart, it’s a question of doin’ the right thing.” You watch as he rubs his hand over his forehead in frustration. 

“But you do,” You push him, “Want me?” 

“Course I do,” He’s swallowing thickly again, just like he did in the kitchen, “But I can’t have you.” 

“Says who?” You pry. 

“Says the fact that I’m one’a your dad’s best friends, not to mention far too old for you.” He’s looking at you and taking another big drink from his bottle, like if he finishes, he can leave you alone. 

“No-one has to know,” You shrug, “Could be our little secret?” 

“You been readin’ too many of them romance novels,” He snorts, “It don’t work like that, if they find out they’ll fucking kill me.” He’s tilting his head to the window of your parents’ room.

You stand from your seat opposite him, walking around the table to stop just in front of Joel, “Come on Joel, have a little fun for once.” 

There’s a moment where you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, trying to weigh up being shot for touching his best friend’s little girl and finally satisfying the craving he’d wanted for a while now. Then, he’s putting his bottle down on the floor next to the chair he’s sat in. You watch closely as he shifts his position to sit more towards the edge of the chair, before one of his hands reaches out to grip the back of your thigh, just above the crease of your knee.

“You’ll be the death of me,” He mumbles before he looks up at you, “C’mere.” 

He’s pulling gently on your leg as he shifts back in the seat, guiding you so your hips are straddling his. You try not to press yourself too fully into him just yet, letting your clothed heat rest above his lap. One of his arms comes to wrap around the back of your waist, the other tangling in your hair at the back of your head whilst he looks at you with eyes that say he wants to devour you. 

“You gonna kiss me, Mr Miller?” You ask, innocently. 

“Oh darlin’, I’m gonna do so much more than that.” 

His head is tilting to the side and looking up at you from your higher ground, perched on his lap. Then his lips are on yours and God all those years of longing were worth it. They’re pressed tentatively against your own, but you can feel they’re slightly chapped. His hand resting in your hair grips a little tighter and he’s moving your head slightly so that when he opens his mouth against yours it’s the easiest thing for you to open yours right back and let his tongue into your mouth. 

You let out a gasp, swallowed into his own mouth when his hands drop back to your thighs before they’re trailing up the small skirt of your dress to cup the cheeks of your ass, “You wear this for me?” He pulls away, speaking before he’s trailing his lips along your jawline, “Thought you’d get me worked up in this tiny little thing, naughty girl?” 

“It worked, didn’t it?” 

He huffs a breath out of his nose as if to say, of course it did. He’s trailing his hot mouth down your neck now, dragging his teeth along your skin before licking with his tongue to soothe any red marks he might leave. Your head is thrown back as his hands drag you down so you’re sitting flush against him. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans when your clothed pussy makes contact with him. 

You’re whining as his hands are on your hips under your dress, the hot skin of his hands setting fire to you, “What do you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his tongue trailing down to the valley between your tits. 

“Fingers,” You rasp, “Make me come with your fingers Joel.” 

He lets out a low chuckle against your skin, “Needy little thing, already beggin’ me to finger fuck her.” 

But he’s already obliging your request, one of his hands is moving down from your hip to the front of your panties, running his thumb over the material from top to bottom, “God, I can feel how wet you are already,” You look down and he’s grinning, “I’m gonna take these off, sweetheart, but you gotta promise to keep quiet okay?” 

You nod in agreement before you’re lifting your hips up, just enough for Joel to hook his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pull them down enough so his hands can touch you. He mimics the same movement he’d done over the material, this time his fingers touching the bare skin of you seam and he’s groaning when he feels the slick gathered near your tight hole. 

“God, you really are wet, aren’t ya?” He chuckles, a flush creeping over your cheeks, “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart,” He reassures, “Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right.” 

You feel one of his thick fingers slip inside you, just a little, before he’s dragging the slick he’s gathered up to run light touches over your clit. You bite down on your lip to keep you from crying out into the dark, hips bucking into his hand to try and get more friction from his fingers. He takes the hint and is pressing his finger more firmly into your bundle of nerves and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep quiet. 

When Joel’s hand drops from your clit you almost cry from frustration, put then he’s sinking two of his fingers straight into your soaking pussy and the relief is palpable. He’s moving them in and out of you, curling them in just the right way that has your hips moving in time with him, literally fucking yourself on his fingers. You let your head fall into the crook of his neck, placing kisses to his skin as you ride his fingers. 

“This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks, his free hand coming to cup the back of your head against his neck, at least this way you could make some noise – testing out your theory you let out a throaty moan, listening carefully as his skin muffles most of the sound. 

“I need… god Joel, my clit, please.” 

With his fingers still buried inside you, working you to the edge, his thumb moves to your clit, resuming the circles his finger had been drawing over it before, “I can feel your pussy gettin’ tight around my fingers,” He’s turned his head so it’s buried in the hair at the side of your head, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” 

You push back from him a little, looking down between your bodies where you can see his hand working you and that’s really all it takes. Your legs are shaking and you’re biting down on your lip hard enough that you can taste blood as pleasure bursts through you – not even you had made yourself come like this. Ever. Joel’s fingers have stilled inside you, but he’s still tracing your clit with gentle movements of his thumb, reveling in the way you jerk through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He coos at you once he’s pulled his hand from your pussy. 

You’ve collapsed onto his chest to catch your breath, but you’re already subconsciously grinding your hips into his, God you want more. You’re about to reach for his belt when you can feel something vibrating in the pocket of his jeans. 

He’s mumbling an apology, lifting you just enough to fish his phone from his pocket. He answers without looking at who is calling. You can hear Tommy’s voice through the phone from your place, draped over Joel’s lap. 

“You just turn it to the side, jackass,” Joel is mumbling in answer to Tommy’s question on how to work his shower, “You’ve used it a million times,” Tommy say’s something you can quite make out, “No, not that one, the one underneath it,” Joel is sighing, “You were not this drunk when you left, if I find you’ve finished the good whiskey I’m gonna kill you,” Another sigh to a question you couldn’t quite hear, “Fine, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Disappointment is pooling in your stomach. You don’t want him to go, not when there’s so much unfinished business here, “I gotta go, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“But what about this?” You ask, reaching between you to cup his cock through his jeans, “Let me help you.” 

His hand is gripping your wrist, “I would love nothin’ more, but I gotta go before Tommy floods my house,” Another kiss to your lips, “Next time.” 

“You want to do this again?” You ask, almost surprised. 

He takes the hand that had been buried in your pussy not minutes before, lifting the fingers he’d fucked you with to his mouth before sucking them right in front of your face, “Now I’ve gotta taste for you, sweetheart?” He raises an eyebrow, “Of course I wanna do this again.” 

[fayesia]

Teach ~ dbf!daemon x reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, p in v, fingering, doggy style, cowgirl, bondage? (belt used to tie hands), dirty talk, face fucking, sir used like once, slapping (mentioned briefly), age gap, degrading kink + a bit of praise

The two of you first met you when your dad invited him over for dinner, the weekend after he had moved into the house next door. Both of you grew closer during special holidays, where the neighbourhood would come together and throw parties. There would be shared glances and conversations filled with innuendos that lead you to walk around feeling hot and flustered.

It was after you left for college when you realised how much you'd miss the small interactions that you assumed meaningless to him.

When you returned for the holidays, your parents invited a few close friends over for a dinner party, including Daemon, meaning you paid extra attention to how you looked.

Dressed to the nines in a beautiful evening dress that hugged every one of your curves perfectly, you made your way into the living room where people were spread out in numerous groups of conversation, soft jazz playing from your parents stereo. That's when you saw him.

Leaning against the wall beside your parents' wine cabinet, the two of you locked eyes, and it seemed like time had ceased, like the room had gone silent just for the two of you. Pouring a small glass of champagne, you let the bubbly liquid flow down your throat in hopes of diminishing the nerves running through you.

Stood in front of the kitchen's floating island, You were glad to escape the insistent question from family friends about your studies and finding a good boyfriend they could meet one day. All you found at college were meaningless hookups that were meant to make you forget your stress... seemed to only make those boys forgot that you wanted to be pleasured too.

Pulled away from your thoughts you felt Daemons hand wrap around one of yours, bringing the back of it to his lips to lay a gentle kiss on it.

"How beautiful you look tonight sweetheart, has been so long since you've come home to visit, hm."

Your cheeks flushed, returning his compliments with a shy smile. "Thank you Mr Targaryen, you look well yourself."

"You flatter me sweet girl but I'm well into my years"

You laugh at his joke, allowing for the release of tension you were bearing on your shoulders since you had stepped out of your bedroom.

The two of you continue the conversation moving to the steps of the staircase, as Daemon asks about college, and you comfortably share stories knowing your secrets would be safe with him.

He reminisces about nights he spent trying weed with his friends while you poked fun at how he struggled to take a hit and passed out in an hour.

But then he asked the question he really wanted the answers to. About the boys at college. What they were like, if you liked any? You grew shy but confided in Daemon, leaving out details you deemed too inappropriate to say. Trying hard to ignore memories of the nights spent imagining him doing the things you wished those boys did to you.

Leaning closer the two of you had moved to sit outside your bedroom wall, supporting each other after too many glasses of champagne and wine.

Daemons mouth scraped the flesh of your ear, "are you still a virgin, sweet girl?". The question caught you off guard, your mouth growing dry while your throat grew tighter and your face hotter.

"No need to be shy. I know what college is like, I apologise if I crossed a boundary-"

Cutting him off you answered, "No...but I'm not experienced or anything". Nodding his head Daemon stared at you a small lift in the corner of his lips, he was thinking of the many more questions he wanted to ask. You continued to speak filling the silence, a bad habit of yours that couldn't be helped.

"It's just...the boys I'm with-no nevermind forget I saw anything." Hanging your head you tried to hide behind a layer of your hair but Daemon reached his hand up, tucking your the locks behind your ear while his hand stayed firmly against your cheek, lifting your face til your eyes met his.

"Continue sweetheart, I'm listening...I hope I'm not assuming wrong.. but I can imagine no college boy knows how to please a girl properly, is that right?"

Nodding your head blushing, "It's silly I know but I just want to experience it properly" Dameon understood what the it was you referred to, to shy to say sex in front of your neighbour who was old enough to be your own father.

"Is that what you want? Someone to show you how real pleasure feels?"

You nod again a small "yes" escaping your lips in a whsiper easily missed. "I can give you that. If you want" Dameons face drew closer to your own own, "is that what you want?"

Your lips are now a mere inch apart from his, with all your courage you answer with a breathy "please" and before you can register Daemons soft lips are pressed against your own.

The lips you imagine on you so many nights alone in your dorm, with a hand down your underwear as you pleasured yourself until release. They were now all over you, on your lips, your neck, your collarbones. And those hands, God, they were just how you dreamt them to feel, rough and calloused as they caressed from your arm to your neck and came to rest on the side of your breasts.

You make a noise of protest at the loss of Daemons lips when he carries you into his arms, laughing at your eagerness, pushing the door open before roughly dropping you onto your bed and closing it behind him.

He pulls off his shirt, removing the belt from his suit pants, while you're patiently kneeling on the bed, your dress having ridden up your thighs and knees spread. Daemon soaks in the sight of you, his gaze matching that of a predator before making the killing move at its prey. "Showing me what you're truly like, huh? Such a pretty fucking slut."

Reaching your arms out, his mouth is back on yours as he positions you to lie down, the movement of his tongue exploring your mouth distracting you from the belt now wrapped around your wrists above your head. The top half of your body is now immobile as Daemon drags down the front of your dress until your tits are bare to him.

His lips wrap around your nipple, sucking and biting at both until your hips grind up against Daemons prominent bulge, the movement eliciting needy moans and groans from both of you. The size of it larger than most you're used to feeling, the thought only making you more eager to see it, touch it or even taste it.

"Be patient, baby, you'll get your reward if you're good. Want to be my good girl l don't you?"

Quickly, you nod your head, eager to take anything Daemond gives you. His hand drags your dress completely off you, stripping you down to the deep red lace panities you wore. His hand traces the small details on it, teasing you when he reaches the area you need him most.

"Mm so soaked for me already. Been so good, pussy so deserving of its reward."

Your panties are harshly ripped down to your ankles as Daemon positions you on all fours, the palm of his hand positioning you into a deep arch. You're fully exposed to him now, and there's no hiding this time. With your hands binded by his belt and your ankles tangled by your own panties.

His hand traces down your spine to the flesh of your ass where he grabs the soft skin. *slap* the feeling of Daemon slapping you comes quickly and in succession with another 3 hits. You're whining against the sheets by now, the wetness of your pussy dripping down your inner thighs which you're sure he can see.

"Please Daemon, want you so bad"

"Yeah? What do you want from me baby"

"anything please just-just fuck me"

"want me to fuck you like those little boys in college can't. You need an old guy like me to. Fuck you so hard you'll never want another cock again. Ruin you for anyone else."

His words have you arching deeper as you present more of yourself to him. Your mouth letting out a near pornagraphic moan when his fingers brush against your folds, two fingertips pressing against your clit.

His other hand comes up quickly to cover your mouth. "Wouldn't want anyone else to hear you be a fucking whore for me now would we, especially not your father. What would he think of his precious daughter being fucked like a pathetic whore by his friend in her childhood bedroom."

Nodding in agreement, you try to hold your moans in, only by the time he has three fingers roughly stuffed into you you're only able to let out a muffled scream into his palm.

He slaps your ass, harder this time "shut up slut what did I say, or do you want someone to come in and see you, pussy being stuffed my fingers" your pussy tightens at his harsh degrading words. Hands tightly gripping the sheets in desperation to grab something as your climax nears, but just as you feel yourself getting closer, Daemon removes his fingers, leaving you whining at the loss of contact "Want you to come around my cock sweetheart."

He stands up to remove his jeans quickly dragging them down along with his boxers, his cock is thick and veiny, it's pulsing head is red and dripping with precum. He wraps his hand around it, leaning his head back in pure pleasure "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this baby, been waiting for you to let me" he's a bit shocked to open his eyes and see you've moved from the bed and down to the floor on your knees.

He nearly cums right there on the spot at the sight of your eyes wide and dilated, your lips wet and swollen from his harsh kisses and bites. "Fucking hell you're a sight for sore eyes aren't you honey" Daemon leads his cock to your open mouth, the feeling of your lips and tongue wrapped around him forces out animalistic groans you've never heard before. But you know you like it when you feel a rush of wetness leak out of you, definitely soaking the floor beneath you.

You try your best to fit all of Daemon in your mouth, which comes as a difficulty, instead wrapping your hand around the remainder which didn't fit. Except the method becomes pointless when his hands grab the sides of your head and he holds you in place.

"Let me fuck your face baby please, you're doing so good for me."

You nod which is all he needs to see before thrusting himself down your throat, the sheer force of it causing tears to stream down your face. The explicit noises of you gagging around his dick and his harsh growls bounce off the walls. You can feel the spit dripping down your chin to your neck as well as onto Daemons balls which slap against your face with each thrust. He's groaning loudly now without a care of who might hear what over the music downstairs, now having changed from jazz to house party tracks. You tap at Daemons thighs when you can't take the lack of oxygen anymore. Your head feels all fuzzy, but it almost feels too good to stop. Dragging himself from your mouth, Daamond pulls you up from the floor, gently placing you into on the bed.

He removes the belt from your wrist which is now sore and red, gently placing soft kisses against them.

"Been such a good girl, you get your reward now baby."

"please sir wannna feel you so bad. Hurts so much, jus' want you to fill me up."

Your brain is barely working at this point. The thought out coming is the only one left in your head. Holding your hip in place Daemon holds his cock, pushing its head in and out of you. The teasing only drawing out more noises of begging from you. When he's had his fun he pushes himself into you, down to the hilt, the laughs from him turning into deep groans of animalisitic pleasure that roar over the squeals that come from you.

"Fuck oh fuck you feel so much better than I thought, just like that yes, fucking tightening around me, like a stupid cock drunk whore"

"Oh-fuck-oh my god Daemon, thank you, thank you fucking me so good" you struggle to get even a few words out, you'd be shocked if he understood anything of what you said. Your hands scratch harsh lines on his well defined back while his lips suck and bite at your chest. You're both sure to find souvenirs from this moment in the morning. His received in the marks of red stinging lines while yours are a mess of red and purple bruises that cover you from your neck to the top of your breasts.

Daemon pounds into you relentlessly, the head of his cock reached your sweet spot so perfectly its like your pussy shaped itself around him the minute he had fully entered you.

He grabs your hips, rolling you over so that you're now riding him. The change in position pushes his dick even deeper into you "fuck you're so deep Daemon-wait Oh my godd" but instead he lifts you up halfway off him and drops you back down to be fully filled up again. Your tits bounce up and down as he tugs at your nipples. Your hands brace against his chest, and he revels at the sight of your face morphed into one full of desire. You bounce up and down on top of him, clenching around the girth of his cock that your pussy can feel almost every ridge and vein he has.

"This is what it feels like, to fuck, with a real man, someone who can give you what you want. Only I can give you what you want" your eyes are closed but you nod at every word he says hanging onto them as you get closer and closer.

The breaking point is his fingers rubbing against your clit. "I'm gonna come, please Daemond just wanna come please please"

"Wait, baby wait for me, let me cum inside you watch it drip out of you, complete your look of being my personal fucking cumdump."

Your nails scratch more marks across Daemons defined chest and as you clench around his length one more time, he grabs hold of your hips tightly keeping you in place while he shoots his loud deep inside of you. "Arghh fuck yes, fuck you so full of my cum have it dripping out of you for days, so you can always remember who fucked you the way you deerve to be. Like a bitch in heat."

His words are barely heard through the ringing in your ears, Daemons cock feels like it's deep in your stomach and all you can see are white flashes in front of your eyes. The only thing keeping you in place is his hold on you, his dick pushing your mixed fluids deeper inside of you.

Cradling you against his chest, he peppers your face in kisses, his arms wrapping around you as your legs intertwine. The two of you lay in a silent embrace before Daemon speaks, "Got to get back before your parents start looking for either of us. Seems like the parties died down a bit." He was right.

The music had dulled to a soft classical number that you knew signalled the end of the night as everyone said their goodbyes and made their leave. Rolling off of Daemon you felt his cum drip out of you, tainting the already ruined sheets with more proof of your sins. As he silently redresses, you smile at Daemon, a lazy post-orgasm one but a smile nonetheless.

Which is all he wanted, to know this wasn't a mistake you would hate him for. Flattening down the mess you made of running your fingers through his hair, Daemon leans down leaving a kiss against your head. "Sleep well sweet princess, and thank you."

"Goodnight Daemon, and thank you."

Letting out a small huff of laughter, Daemon makes his way out of your room and back downstairs to wish your parents a goodnight. Unbeknownst to them that he just gave their daughter the best dicking down of her life that still has her feeling fuzzy and dazed. So much so she didn't even notice the missing pair of red panties from the pile of clothes and pillows carelessly tossed on the ground.

[atimeofyourlife]

A family Thanksgiving

This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents

The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.

"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.

"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.

"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.

"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."

Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.

When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."

"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.

"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"

"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.

"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."

"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.

"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.

Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.

"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.

"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.

"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.

After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.

"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.

"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.

"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.

"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."

"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.

"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."

"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"

"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."

"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.

"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.

"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.

"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.

"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.

"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."

Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.

"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."

"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.

"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."

"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.

"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."

Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.

Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.

"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.

"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.

Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.

"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."

Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.

"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."

"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."

"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.

"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"

"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."

"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"

"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."

"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."

"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.

"But, mother-" His father started.

"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."

"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."

"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."

"Mother,"

"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."

Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.

"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.

"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.

"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."

"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."

"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."

"Grandma." Steve protested.

"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.

Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.

"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"

"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."

"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"

"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."

"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."

"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.

[storm-angel989]

hey could you do a Valentino x Daughter Reader where the Vees/Angel finds out that Reader has been starving herself and taking pills that make her lose weight?

Hi there,

So I did write one of these already (check out my master list!) but I wrote another version because you asked to include Angel Dust. Diet pills are another thing I have personal experience with, and I promise you they're not worth it. As hard as it is somedays, our bodies are worthy of love and respect always <3

<3 Mandy

Privacy had never really been a big deal to me. 

Growing up the tech overlord’s niece, I was acutely aware that anything and everything I brought, sent, typed, created, handed in was subject to scrutiny by my Uncle Vox. Not that he went out of his way to divulge into my personal life, but there had definitely been a few times I had been reminded of his power to keep tabs on me. 

It wasn’t until I started dieting to get more into shape for the upcoming school year that Vox’s constant monitoring became an issue. 

It started with the ballerina tea in September. Something my friends at school swore up and down would help me trim down before the holiday season. For the first time in my life, I heard whispers- too big, too small. Just right. Fashion presented in a way even my Aunt Velvette hadn’t shown me. As we thumbed through magazines, shifted through racks of clothes at the local mall, I slowly started to see my friend’s point, and everything my body wasn’t. 

Thoughtlessly, I clicked on the order now button and in minutes, my phone rang.

“Hey, kid. I canceled your order. You can’t drink that stuff, it will seriously mess up your gut,” my Uncle Vox’s voice came through on the line. 

I felt shame spread across my face. Not a single parental figure in my life had ever scolded me for what I wanted to put in my body. Hell, my Dad even let me have ice cream for breakfast one morning when my Mom was out of town. Why was my Uncle Vox even remotely paying attention to what I wanted to drink? Embarrassment. Did he not know just how flawed I was?

Somewhere inside, a little voice told me to keep quiet. 

“Reader? Did you hear me?” Vox’s voice repeated. 

“Ye-yeah, Uncle Vox, sorry,” I squeaked out. “I just…my friends at school they…”

“If your friends at school all jumped off a cliff, would you? I can make a doctor's appointment if you’d like and she can explain exactly what…”

“No, no, Uncle Vox. I’m good,” I replied quickly. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight, kiddo.”

I hung up the phone in dismay as cracks in my fantasies began to form. How exactly was I supposed to be thinner if I was hitting a wall trying to use the resources available to me? How was I supposed to look like the models on the cover of Aunt Velvette’s magazines if I kept doing what I was doing? I needed help, but from where? 

My answer lay in the network of friends I had available to me. A quiet whisper- folded notes with paper currency passed in study hall returned with white powder filled capsules. 

Drink a glass of water and take one pill three times a day, the note back read. 

Instructions I could follow easily, and all it took was downing that first pill to get me absolutely hooked. I couldn’t pinpoint when I slowly started to cut back on what I ate, or when the little voice inside my head started to tell me I didn’t deserve food. That the number on the scale was the only thing that mattered and the faster the number went down, the happier the voice inside my head became. Beauty, numbers, purity took over my thoughts. 

As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I decided that voice had a name. Ana. And she was my only friend in the entire world. 

Two months passed before my world came crashing down. 

“Hey babe, I know you’re on your way out the door, but meet me in my studio afterschool today, hm?” My fathers voice carried across the kitchen. 

I froze. On my normal day to day, I wasn’t allowed anywhere near my fathers business office- or studio, as he called it. I was well aware of what he was in the business of, but he did his best to keep me from it. Or at least, from the worst of it. 

“Why?” I asked, my back turned to him.

“You have a half day. Your Aunt and Uncle both have meetings, so you’ll be doing your homework in my office tonight,” he replied. “And I received several forms in the mail from the school. You need a physical before winter season begins, so we might as well get that done. And then I’ll take you out to lunch. It’s been awhile since we’ve spent time together.” 

The entire thing sounded like my current worst nightmare. I struggled to come up with the words to try to get out of it. 

“But I was going to go to…I have plans, I…”

“Bebita, whatever plans you have, consider them canceled. In my studio, by twelve. The limo will pick you up. That’s all.” Valentino finished. 

An overwhelming sense of dread washed over me. Ana’s voice grew louder, nonsense that I couldn’t discern. No matter how hard I tried,  I couldn’t see my way out of this. Anxiety flooded through me and I worried my way through the entire morning. In truth, I had planned on making up the extra steps I was losing by leaving early at the school gym before I went home. 

Just take an extra dose, Ana whispered. And double each dose, even. Make up for those extra steps missed, and the extra calories I was sure I would end up taking in. A sense of relief washed over me. Of course. Ana always knew what to do. 

I walked into my father’s studio, backpack slung over his shoulder. Noticeably empty was my father’s directors chair. On stage, Angel sat on the bed, wrapped in his pink red trimmed robe. I brightened up instantly. Angel was the only employee of my father’s I knew, the only one I had any sort of relationship with. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Angel said cheerfully. He stood up and walked over to me. “Yer Daddy said you were coming in, how’s school?”

I shrugged. “Fine. Where is Dad?” I glanced at the clock. Twelve thirty. I needed to duck out and take that fourth dose now if I wanted it to be effective. “I have a ton of homework and I want to get started.”

“In a meetin’, but you can use my dressing room,” he replied as he sashayed across the floor. 

I followed him and he pushed open the door, ushering me inside. 

“Trust me, your gonna wanna hang tight, Val- er, your Dad’s mood is gonna be good or bad dependin on how this meetin’ goes,” Angel told me. 

I settled myself on the couch and dug around in my backpack. Behind me, Angel took a seat at his vanity and picked up a brush. I seized the opportunity to unscrew my water bottle and pull out the plastic bag of pills. I had just swallowed the two capsule when a hand plucked the bag out of mine. 

Shit. 

“Hey, kid. Whatcha got there?” Angel asked as he held the bag up to his face. 

“Give those back, they’re mine!” I yelled as I jumped to my feet. “Angel, give them to me!” 

Angel ignored me and instead took the bag over to his vanity. I watched in dismay as he cracked open one of the clear capsules and inspected the contents. 

“How many of these did you take?” He asked.

Silence for a heartbeat. 

“Does your Dad know you’re taking these?” Was his next question.

“No, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him,” I growled. “Angel, give them back!”

He crossed his arms, plastic bag in hand. “Only if you tell me how many you’ve taken today,” he replied. 

“Four this morning. Four at ten. And I just took four. And I need to take another two tonight,” I replied sharply. “Now give them back.”

Surprise shot across his face. “You took twelve of them? Are you fuckin stupid?” He turned back to his desk and started to rummage through it. “Fucking stupid kids,” he muttered as he came up with a bright orange bottle. I watched as he poured the liquid into the cap. “Here, take this now or I’m goin right to Val,” he thrust the medication to me. “Now, or else. I mean it.” 

“Angel! I…”

“I said, now or I go pull your Daddy from his meetin and trust me, he’s gonna be pissed,” Angel shot back. 

I didn’t doubt any of that. Reluctantly, I took the cap and swallowed the contents. “There, now give me back my pills.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he replied. He reached out and grabbed my upper arm. “Come with me, otherwise you’re gonna puke all over my dressin room and I don’t think either of us wants that.”

“Angel!” I protested as he practically dragged me across the studio floor. “Angel where are we…” 

He shoved me into the nurses office and yelled to the lady at the front desk to page Valentino. Without waiting, he opened the bathroom door and shoved me inside. My anger turned to pain as my stomach cramped and I felt his hands pull my hair back as I emptied my belly of its contents. 

“That’a girl,” Angel muttered. “Yeah, get it all out.”

“Fuck you Angel, I’m fine,” I snarled. 

“Yeah, cause I make you puke. If I hadn’t, you’d have been dead in about twenty more minutes,” he replied. “Yer Dad’s on the way.” 

“Oh fuck you,” I snarled as the nurse came in. “I swear I…”

Whatever I was going to say stopped as a wave of dizziness hit me. I felt Angel help me kneel to the floor and laid me on my side. The feeling of hands on my chest, my fathers voice as my reality turned black. 

When I came to, I was sitting upright in a hospital bed. Wires attached to my chest and a plethora of monitors surrounded me. A tickle in my throat and I tried to cough as I raised my hand to itch my face. My fingers hit tape and plastic and I couldn’t Groggily, I strained to hear the noise on the other side of the door. 

“Val, I saw it in the mirror. She was sitting on the couch and she swallowed a few, but I got her to tell me how much she took. I had to make her puke or she woulda…” Angel’s desperate voice. 

“Where the fuck did she find that shit?” My father’s voice growled. “How the fuck did my daughter get ahold of that…Angel, just…” His tone shifted to frustration. Silence, and a sigh. “You did the right thing. Probably saved her. Just go, consider this shoot canceled and take the night. Go to the hotel or whatever it is you do, I need to handle this…situation.”

“Just, will ya lemme know when she wakes up?” Angel’s voice pleaded. “Val, if what she took was what I thought, she coulda died.”

“I know. And I will.” My father’s voice was softer. “Go.” 

Time passed and I felt myself slip in out of consciousness. I was vaguely aware of my father fussing, flashes of Angel, my Uncle Vox and Aunt Velvette. But for the most part I stayed asleep. At some point, the tickle in my throat vanished, but the needle in my arm stayed. It could have been a week, or maybe a day when I could I finally held myself awake long enough to hear what was going on. A few blinks, and I could make out my father’s figure standing next to my Aunt and Uncle at the base of the bed. 

“We’re lucky we caught it when we did, she’s lost some weight. Her bloodwork isn’t great, but it’s fixable. It’s more important now that she connects with a therapist and…” said an unfamiliar voice. 

“Daddy?” Even to me, my voice sounded scratchy. “Daddy?” 

Four heads turned to me. The Doctor walked over and began to check the monitors.

“Good to see you awake, baby girl,” my Uncle Vox said as he brushed away an invisible strand of hair. “How are you feeling?” 

“What happened?” I asked as my father sat on the side of the bed. “Why am I in the hospital?”

“Maybe you want to fill us in,” Velvette suggested. 

The doctor cleared his throat. “I would suggest waiting for the thera-”

“Leave us. This is a family matter for the time being,” my father commanded with the authority only an overlord of hell could have. 

I watched as he instantly turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him. My father turned his attention back to me. I hung my head and after a few moments of quiet, Valentino’s voice filled the air. 

“Let me break it down for you. Angel watched you- from the mirror- swallow two pills. You told him those were the twelfth ones you had taken that day. He, because he isn’t a dumbass and has probably taken them himself, recognizes them right away and forces ippapec down your throat. He gets you to the nurse and you vomit until you pass out. I show up, and we decide that your stomach needs to be pumped. Doc asks me how much you weigh and I realize that somehow, since September, you’ve lost about twenty seven pounds. Tell me, muñeca, how exactly does that happen?”

For the first time since this all began, Ana went silent. Without that voice to guide me, I swallowed back my nerves. 

“I went on a diet. I took diet pills, Dad. That’s what Angel got all mad about.”

“And rightly so,” Velvette interrupted. “All diet pills are dangerous, but the ones you took? They’re ten times as strong. Combined with skipping meals, they’ll wreck your body.”

“And don’t try to tell us you wern’t,” Vox added. “I reviewed the footage. We saw it all, honey.”

I looked down at the blanket. “So what happens now? Am I grounded?”

Silence from the three of them. I felt my fathers hand on mine and his finger tilted my chin up.

“I don’t think you quiet get the point. You almost died, honey. I…” 

I watched an expression I couldn’t quite read flit across his face. He took a deep breath before he continued. 

“Here is the plan. Now that you’re awake, you’re going to talk to a doctor. As soon as you get the all clear, you can go home. We can figure out where to go from then, but for now…for now honey, I’m just glad you’re alive.” 

I reached for him and my father folded me into his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I wasn’t trying to die, I…”

“Don’t be sorry. We’ll figure it out. I promise. I love you, mi amore,” he replied softly. “We all love you. We’ll get through this, I promise.”

[ladythornofrivia]

🍒 The Devil’s Tongue 🍒

Michael Gavey x Reader (PART TWO)

summary: you transferred into Oxford after moving out from your country for a better change, and unexpectedly meeting Michael Gavey in a quiet library, leads to something more.

warnings: creepy vibes from michael gavey, reader being oblivious, stalking, michael being horny, p in v sex, loss of virginity, jealousy, misunderstandings, obsession, belt kink, panty kink, scent kink, voice kink, breeding kink, michael gavey being a smartass, michael gavey is horny for math, michael gavey is a smartass, clueless reader, nerdy yet hot michael, lust at first sight, sex in the library, sex on the table, kitchen sex, oral sex, cam girl, fingering, sex during tutoring session, reader teasing, reader being a dominatrix in bed, food porn.

a/n: i got sick from the trip. oops. enjoy the new chapter! oh, and the one where the reader is being shoved out of the elevator, that one is a true story, by the way. I was being shoved out of the elevator by this guy I met at the cruise—all because I didn’t give him the attention. not only that i got stood up twice--one on the hangout, the other on my 27th birthday. and he thinks it's weird that i like hotd and said ewan mitchell looks weird. good thing i don't have to see him again.

Somehow, to think you met up with Michael Gavey again in the library, now that Oliver Quick is gone. By gone, Oliver might have gotten bored of Michael Gavey, you assumed.

There was a party last night, and you didn’t attend. Not that you’re too good or above for the party; you just hated the noise at the moment. You wanted a different kind of ambience to set the mood. Needless to say, you earned a lot of cash on that night.

With moonlighting as a camgirl, things have gotten easier. If you haven’t left your parents, things would’ve been worse if they found out.

Despite the cruel years, it became a simple memory.

Sitting beside you, Michael offered another crunchie--delicious as always. It's a good pair with hot cup of joe to pair with the sweet chocolate. Although you learned that Michael hated coffee, he'd rather prefer tea, a tea that tasted bland to you. You needed something strong--Starbucks would've been great, but a coffee from Oxford? You can't pass up to try the flavor of coffee from another country you've set yourself in.

Missing the opportunity would be as stupid--all opportunities have been unlocked, all thanks to you being as a famous camgirl. My, oh my, you are moonlighting as a naughty girl in bed time--no parents constantly sneaking in being nosy as hell. You did lie to them--half-lie--by claiming that you have been acting nuts at night--doing all the prayers and bible study sessions, which is a total fucking lie.

You never liked bible studies or prayers before Sundays. It's a hassling lifestyle to live in--to live so virtuously while shaming everyone's lifestyle who aren't religious.

People with an aspect of a pretentious goody-two-shoes was the last thing you need. Oliver Quick is a goody two-shoes; the boy obsessed with math has caught your eye, plain and simple. A bit eccentric, but sexually frustrated, as you guessed before the moment your eyes met his baby blues.

Three weeks later, the magical aspect of Oxford hasn't begun.

"Crunchie," a voice said, tingling your skin and poked at one side of your waist with a slight tickle.

Beside you, Michael Gavey showed up with a slight grin on his face, oddly satisfied this morning.

Who the hell smiles in the morning?

"Not an early riser, I see," he commented.

His pleasant tone prickled in between your thighs.

"Oh yeah, fine and dandy--needed a cup of coffee," you said, grouchy. "I was studying all night--got the assignment wrong."

"What kind of assignment?"

"It's, um, it's an English essay," you lied, pen twirled between your agitated fingers. "This professor is really getting on my nerves when it comes to the essay. Acting all superior and shit--telling me I keep getting my annotations wrong and that I misinterpreted the meaning of the symbolism and theme in the story. I hate pretentious professors like that. No matter where I go, some things never change. They always have favoritism, it's fucking weird."

Michael chuckled. "Perhaps you have been partying?"

"Partying? Please, I needed peace and quiet for some alone time to concentrate on my studies. If I want to have a good future, I had to have at least a C or B. I fucked up bad."

Seems like the lie went smoothly as always.

"So, have you been at the party last night? Sneaking in since you didn't get your invite?" you asked.

Michael placed his hand over his cheek, nearly covering his lips. "I stayed in my dorm."

"Ah, doing math homework, I assume? Anything math related? Science into the mix, maybe."

Michael stayed quiet.

"I'm not really into math. I thought it's confusing," you commented.

Michael chortled. "Perhaps I could tutor you this afternoon. Usually I don't like teaching the numbing idiots of the subject matter. One guy was staring at the girl’s tits while doing times tables. Times tables! Need them to fuck off and do something valuable for once!”

You stopped what you're doing and glanced at him. And it clicked an idea into your head.

“Am I also the numbing idiot?”

He shook his head. “You might be, if you are. These knuckleheads at the library, all they’ve done useless flirting, not studying.”

“That’s what library is for, Michael. To study. No harm in a little flirting.”

Come to think of it, Michael at the library with you sounds nice.

He smiled a little, though not in a friendly way.

"Sure," you said, eating the half crunchie. "Why not? Teach me, so I could get better grades. Life is already hard enough as it is. So got any crunchy to start the session? It will take a while.”

~~~

For the past an hour or two, Michael tutored you. Although as excruciating painful to hear numbers and equations with letters, you couldn’t help but to stare at the cute nerd. Ah, a cutely frustrated nerd, maybe. His curlish dirty blond hair, thick framed glasses and his smile when he talks about math, these thoughts never spare you freedom. You are trapped, trapped by thirst that needed to be quenched.

With your cherry-red boots and skirt and a rosy pink lace top, you opt to show your cleavage by tucking your mini top downward, crossing your legs, coiled your apetite. With your hair flip, or hair twirls, biting your red lips, you were hoping Michael would give a comment or two, but tutoring was his priority, but since you wanted his attention, asking questions about math and equations would definitely keep him on his seat. His eyes on you.

His cute nerdy glasses. His cheeky and toothy smile.

Masturbating seems to be an option, but what happens if that option is no longer helpful? You wanted an alternative approach.

Maybe masturbating in public would be nice, but you’re smarter than that.

But each time you attempt to flirt, he seemed clueless. But he did at one point had a crush on a news anchor. And so your mind mentally made an account.

Dear Diary,

Michael Gavey didn’t notice me. How the hell am I supposed to get his oblivious attention on me? I hope I don’t die as a lonely virgin. I’m a bad bitch; I just want to fuck him so badly, watching his glasses fog up and lips soak at my aching pussy, whimpering underneath me and my dominance.

Then it clicked you.

However, you knew right away of this information when he liked watching news—the news anchor. Although she has a kid, the green envy seared and punctured your belly.

Maturity is what men and guys want.

Though it didn’t stop you from chasing Michael’s attention. Days gone by when you try a different style. That is until you met this guy, a popular guy, who’s name you not care—who complimented and dubbed you as “the hottest girl in campus.”

An idea conjured; if you practice with a guy, maybe it would be easier to make the first move on Michael. Thus, you went along with his flirting, but at the end of the night, you felt sure you were ready, until he took you out in the hall, and make out with you. But you didn’t care, you didn’t want to kiss the dude, you wanted to kiss Michael.

You felt nothing in his erotic moves.

When he tried to get into your underwear, you shoved his hands away. Thus, the little adventure with the guy, and ended up shoving you out of the elevator.

It was a pathetic night.

Nonetheless, your camgirl starts within an hour or two—took a shower and dressed up as a sexy office worker, with fake smart glasses with your tight office shirt loosened two buttons for your cleavage to show, with pencil skirt and stockings and red bottom heels.

On the cam session, did a little roleplay, and with feral thirst, legs spread apart, ripping your stockings and reveal your wet pussy. At the thought of Michael, his face, his voice, two fingers inserted in your cunt, as your hips formed a gyration, moaning aloud.

Michael…

You nearly screamed his name, but your climax came quicker.

All the comments flooded in, and more cash has stocked into your bank account.

You wondered if chasing Michael was even worth it. Hopefully one of these days, he’ll finally notice you.

~~~

Michael shoved in a few cash onto your new stream. Dressing up as a news anchor or an office lady, he found himself turned on, how your skin was gleaming with arousal, office glasses crooked from humping and gyrating, grinding your hips in fast pace like a feral beast that you hid beneath all the girlish and cherry red clothing, a clothing that outlined your perfect hips and perfect waist.

A horny devil.

He pretended his hand is your hand, your mouth, your throbbing, wet cunt, tightened around his bulging cock. The way he fisted his cock so much he couldn’t stand watching you flirting with that stupid boy.

Michael had a plan and he couldn’t wait to be inside you, but the question is…

When?

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