#they’re checking him out nothing can change my mind

[justwonder113]

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🎧 Shutting you up mid argument with a kiss - Hyung line edition 🎧

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📖 Summary:  Basically what the title says ���

⚠️ Warnings:  Cursing as always; Arguments; kissing; fluff; angst but nothing too extreme; Suggestive ending at Chan's part. NOT PROOFREAD

🖋️ Author’s Note:  Saw a gif of a man shutting a girl up with a kiss and got inspired so hopefully you'll like it. Will do a reverse version too so stay tuned~

📝 Word Count:  3k

📜 Masterlist: | ☕ Ko-fi:

💬Reblogs and comments are truly appreciated—they help more STAYs find my work, and your feedback means a lot to me. ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

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Chan

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To say that you were pissed off would be an understatement. On a broad daylight in front of you this bitch had the nerve to flirt with your boyfriend! Even worse, apart from ignoring your whole damn existence like you meant nothing she made him uncomfortable!  

Like you just wanted to enjoy a peaceful meal, a peaceful evening with your sweet, overworked, always busy boyfriend and instead of that you were now practically seething in your seat while Chan awkwardly but still firmly rejected the girl. 

“Baby you’ve not touched your food in a while. We can go home if you want?” Chan’s concerned voice brought you back from angry and mean things you were thinking about a waitress you were doomed to be served by today. 

 You felt bad. “No...” - You started unsure of what to say. “You wanted to try this place for a while. Let’s just eat okay?  I promise I’m fine.” 

Chan didn’t look convinced.  You saw his eyebrow rise in question but he didn’t say anything and as if sensing  your inner turmoil he started rubbing your hand with his thumb, He hadn’t let go of your hand since you first sat down here. Sometimes it infuriated you how perfect he was. How handsome, kind, gentle, loving, understanding... Even now he was the one feeling uncomfortable but the first thing on his mind was to check on you.You alsmost felt bad feeling angry. 

Almost. 

To be fair you really tried to keep your cool but you were human after all. 

“It’s just some people have no shame! I mean I was right here! She just ignored me! You were holding my damn fucking hand! Of course it means we’re dating or do we have to start making out for her to get a hint?” You grumbled out all annoyed.  Looking up at Chan to take your side you noticed that the expression on his face had changed. Instead of an awkward smile he had on he was now gazing at you with amusement written all over his face. His eyes like a crecent moons and his adorable dimples showing.  

It wasn’t fucking fair he looked this damn good! 

“Don’t smile at me like you aren’t in fucking trouble!”  You watched as confusion washed all over his face. 

“Why am I in trouble?” 

“Oh I will tell you! You are too kind!” You point it out like it’s a huge problem which sounds ridiculous but unfortunately for both of you it is. 

“How is me being kind a problem? Isn’t that a good thing? Should I be evil?” Despite Chan’s playful tone and his amused smile confusion was as clear as a day on his face. 

“Shut it I’m still talking and you’re on thin ice!” The glare you gave him instantly made him shut up. 

“Sorry darling, please continue.” Softly kissing your hand he straightened up and tried to look serious. Tried being the key word. You really tried to keep your composure. 

“You can’t just smile at everyone like that, Chan,” you snap. “That waitress was eating it up. You were practically handing her your number with those puppy eyes.” 

Chan blinks, caught between confusion and guilt. “I was just being polite—” 

“That’s the problem!” you cut in, voice slightly rising against your better judgement. “You’re too polite. Too nice. Too—you. And you don’t see it, but people take advantage of that. You think they’re being friendly. I see it as them testing boundaries.” 

You sighed. “I shouldn't have to sit through a meal watching someone throw themselves at you while you smile and thank them for it like it’s normal. I trust you. I know you won’t betray my trust. It's just... Fuck I don’t know how to explain. I don’t want someone to make you uncomfortable like this. It’s not just about me getting pissed.” 

You exhale sharply, half-angry, half-exhausted mostly grumbling like an old cartoon character. “I should just—I don’t know—write ‘taken’ on your damn forehead in permanent marker or something like mark you up or some shit like that.” 

Chan’s expression shifted at that — something flickered behind his eyes. And then, without a word, he leaned forward over the tiny table, cupped your jaw with one hand, and kidded you. The kiss was firm, sure, leaving no room for argument — just the press of his lips saying everything he hadn’t yet taking your breath away just like that. 

When he finally pulled back, he murmured, breath warm against your skin, “Then I guess I’ll just have to show everyone I’m already yours.” Another short but loving peck, and you’ve already forgotten just what had you worked up anyway. “Is that good with you darling?” The teasing glint in his eyes and the smug grin he was barely hiding made you snap back to reality. 

“Oh fuck you!”  How did he manage to always fluster you was beyond you. He was taking advantage of how much you loved him really. What a tease. Made your heart throb and everything...

God you loved him. 

“Later baby.” He leaned in and sealed your lips again, not that you were against it. Also, you just loved how sour the mood of a certain waitress got after Chan’s very much public display of affection. A win was a win. 

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Lee Know

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The day started out great. You had a day off and you had spent it all day cuddling with your boyfriend and his adorable fluffballs till noon, you had a great breakfast and you two even went out to hang out with the guys. You decided to have a game night. There were also few other close “friends” invited.  

The thing is you and Minho were always a team whenever you played because both of you tended to get overly invested in games and usually it resulted in chaos. But today others had an interesting idea. Since there was an even amount of you Felix and Jisung came up with the idea to randomly split into pairs. That’s how you ended up being paired with Minho’s biggest enemy- Kim Seungmin. Not that you had anything against him, in fact you loved that chaotic little gremlin, the literal chaos incarnate.  

Minho didn’t seem to appreciate that at all. 

At first you thought that he was sulky because he and Innie lost to you and Seungmin in many games, declaring you the winner of the night. But now as you two were heading towards your shared house the atmostphere had really shifted. 

Even the air felt heavy in the car. It was quiet. Too quiet. Like the storm was brewing.  

After you felt Minho glance at you for the nth time this whole ride you just couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore. 

“Okay what is the problem? You had been sulking since we left.” 

Minho looked at you for a second, his face unreadable. “I’m not sulking.” Flat, so dry. 

Yeah right. 

“Please like I’d miss something like that after knowing you for years. You’re literally pouting Min! You only do that when you’re annoyed...”-You poused for a second-“or jealous.” 

“I’m not pouting.” a displeased scoff from him.

Ypu scoff in return. Yes, it's very mature..“Oh please like you can fool me.” 

"I’m fine.” 

“Minho. Why are you upset” 

He laughed now dryly.

“What is funny?"

“It’s funny you noticed, considering you were too busy all evening laughing at everythingSeungmin had said, like he’s the funniest person ever. You didn’t even bother to look at me from time to time. What a cute little pair you were." Minho's voice was cold, so cold it made you shiver. He never talked to you like that.

How dare he?

“Are you fucking serious right now?"

Another glance

“Completely” 

"So what? Am I not allowed to laugh at someone else’s joke? What if my boyfriend takes it as me flirting? What do you not trust me now"

"You think this is about trust?" Minho asked after stopping a car in front of your house. He looked at you, he really did. For a first time in the last 2 hours. "No. It's about the fact that you know exactly what you do to me when you smile like that—and then you go flashing it at everyone else. So fuck me I guess." 

"Excuse me? I’m not yours to—"  

You barely desipher the click of his seatbelt before his hand is firmly on your jaw and his lips are on yours. The kiss so raw and passionate speaking so many things at once. "Yeah, you are." He whispered against your lips before connecting them all over again. You swear you feel like you’re melting.   "You're mine."

“You won’t get out of this with a kiss you know.” 

"If you don’t want me to kiss you, don’t look so damn kissable when you’re angry." Only Lee Minho would he able to say this in the most nonchalant way.

Still it made your heart flutter.

“You’re such an asshole sometimes." You grumbled as you avoided his gaze. You didn’t want him to see how flustered he got you.

“You love me.” 

“I do.” 

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Changbin

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You loved your boyfriend. He was your love, your joy your happiness. He meant everything to you. Like there was nothing you wouldn’t do for him. But sometimes you just felt like strangling him. Like the way Homer Simpson strangles his son Bart. Or at least smack him. 

You two were supposed to have a date in this fancy restourant that recently opened up. You barely managed to make a reservation it was already packed for next 3 months.

Well, you were supposed to go and enjoy your date. The key word being supposed.

 Because he didn’t show up.   

You waited and waited. 15 minutes he didn’t answer your call. 30 minutes. Still no answer and no call. An hour- nothing. The pitiful gazes from the restaurant staff and other people around you became too much, but you still waited. An hour and a half... You just couldn’t take it anymore, so you left. 

You had barely taken a few steps from the restaurant when you saw him running full speed at you. 

“Baby I am so sorry!” You heard him huff out between laboured breaths. 

“Forget it, let’s go home.” The sound of your voice sounded so foreign to you. So emotionless. So empty. 

Changbin quickly caught up with you and stopped you by gently but firmly grabbing your wrist. “Baby please!” He sounded desperate but you didn’t care. You were fed up. You just wanted to go home. 

The desperate call of your name made you stop. And something in you snapped. ”Unbelievable! You forgot! Again! And now you act and sound like you’re the one hurting?” 

“Baby please, listen to me for a second.” He pleaded but you were done listening, 

“Do you even care Changbin? Or am I just some afterthought in your schedule?” You finally asked it, you really did. 

"I—No, I do care! I just lost track of time. I was in the studio, and-” You didn’t let me finish. Scoffing you started to talk. You were done being forgiving and understanding. This time you would speak up for yourself. "Studio. Right, always the studio. Always work. Always something more important than me! You didn’t even text, Changbin! You could have at least warned me instead of making me look like a pathetic fool in front of all these people! You could have fucking answered one of the many fucking calls. “ You knew that his schedule was a nightmare, but you weren’t asking for much. You knew that his mind was occupied with work, but would it kill him to think about you from time to time? 

Changbin looked like he was physically hurt by  your words. "I know. And I’m sorry, I really am!” 

“Sorry?! Sorry doesn’t change the fact that I was sitting there alone, waiting for you! I looked like an idiot, Changbin! Do you even know how...” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, you barely even had time to realize what was happening but one second you were pouring your heart out to Changbin in the middle of nowhere and the next second he was kissing you so desperately like you were the air he needed to breathe.

like you were his lifeline.

He held you like he was afraid you would disappear. 

The kiss itself was so raw, so desperate, so passionate and urgent. You didn’t even know how to react. Your whole body begged you to reciprocate to return the passion. It begged you to hold onto him and never let go, but at the same time you heart ached so much...  

His hands were so warm and gentle holding your face. His whole body was warm. All you wanted was to nuzzle against his strong sturdy frame. But what frightened you more is how weak you were for him. It’s like you could physically feel how the frustration, the anger- all melt into the heat of the kiss as the seconds passed. 

Eventually he leaned back. His eyes  glistening  like he was seconds away from crying. You don’t even realize when you started crying yourself. You only realized when Changbin gently wiped them away. “I messed up. But please, don’t say I don’t care about you.” He took your hands in his and kissed every knuckle making your skin crawl in anticipation. Not breaking eye contact. His eyes speaking for himself , in the language only you two could understand. Something just you two. “You’re my heart.” Another kiss, on your wrist now. And your heart leaped in your ribcage.  

“I love you so much baby.“- He muttered against your skin as he now migrated and kissed both of your cheeks. His touch purely electrifying. “Please trust me on that.” A broken voice and a final kiss on your forehead and you finally give in. 

“You’re on thin ice...” You finally mutter out after a few seconds of silence and Changbin looking like a literal sad puppy instead of a dwaekki. 

A biggest grin comes up on his face immediately. “I won’t break your trust again bunny! I promise.” 

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Hyunjin

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It starts the same way it always does. 

You said something—something important, something you needed Hyunjin to hear—and he just nodded, absently, like your words were some kind of background noise to whatever thought was occupying his head. 

Like now. 

You were sitting across from him, watching, waiting for even the slightest flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. But instead, he was staring at the floor—no, not even staring. Spacing out. 

You could feel your fingers tighten around your drink. Your heart clenching in pain from being ignored yet again. “Hyunjin.” You called out agan but somewhat you already knew you would be ignored again.  

And there it was - Silence. 

Your heart sinked further. 

“Hyunjin.” You called. His head jerked up, eyes wide, almost guilty. “Huh?” 

Oh, there it iwas. The proof that he wasn’t listening. 

Your voice sharpened, your tone cold. “You didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?” 

“i’m sorry darlin I must have spaced out. What were you saying?” There it was. He asked you to repeat yourself like it was nothing special. Did he even realize just how much he tuned you out? Were you not interesting for him anymore? 

“God Hyunjin you always do this.” It’s like you could feel the headache manifesting. 

“What? What did I do wrong?” He fully sat up now. God was he serious? 

“Do you even hear yourself right now? That’s the problem, Hyunjin—you don’t listen! 

Hyunjin looked taken aback for a second but he quickly started to defend himself. “That’s not true, I...” You didn’t let him finish. 

“It is! Every time I try to talk, you brush it off. You nod along, say, "Yeah, yeah," like it’s nothing! Like I’m some background noise in your life!” You paused a second to take a deep breath. You felt like you could cry any second now. You felt so fragile like you could crack any second.  “It really hurts Hyun...” 

Seeing your defeated state he paniced " I swear, I...” 

"No!”  You interrupt, quite harshly also. “No, don’t just "I swear" me! Because the moment I get serious, the moment I actually need you to listen, you always...” 

Hyunjin moved. Quick, decisive, like he already made up his mind before you even finished your sentence. His lips crash against yours mid-rant, stealing your words, your frustration, your breath. The world tips upside down and all that's left is him—his touch, his warmth, his absurd, infuriating way of handling things. He pulls back just enough to whisper—soft, teasing, smug in the way only Hyunjin can be and get away with - “See? You’re not arguing anymore. Perfect balance.” 

You’re actually speechless. It was like the anger and sadness evaporated but now all you felt was confusion. Being in a relationship with him sure was a rollercoaster. You were flustered, scandalized, fuck you would be clutching your pearls if you had any on.  

You were dizzy. You could barely stand on your two feet. Your heart was going absolutely crazy in your ribcage!

“That—That doesn’t help your case at all you asshole!” Not able to stop yourself you smacked his arm which made Hyunjin giggle. 

Leaning in he wrapped his arms around you and gently brough you to himself. “I’m sorry my love I promise I will be more present from now on.” As if to make his point come across, he laned in to kiss your forehead gently. 

Bergundigly you wrapped your hands around his waist.

As if you could stay mad at him. 

“You better Hwang!” 

Hyunjin flinched like you slapped the shit out of him. “Baby! Not my last name!” 

Served him right. 

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✧･ﾟ: Thank you for reading! :･ﾟ✧ 

If you enjoyed this story, reblogs and comments are truly appreciated—they help more STAYs find my work, and your feedback means a lot to me. 💬🖤 

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[bluewritinghood]

@giftober 2024 | Day 31: "free choice"

[joelsdagger]

only then, i am good || one shot

joel miller x f!reader

masterlist || ao3 || follow @joelsdaggerupdates for notifs!!

pairing: daddy jackson!joel x f!reader summary: you have a bad day in which it makes you question your worth. only joel can make you see the truth. warnings: jackson era [well into the tlou2 timeline but nothing bad happens], implied age gap [i warn you, joel is old old], angst [in the form of internal turmoil], feelings of guilt/burdening, established relationship, dd/lg dynamics, soft daddy dom!joel, daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, finger sucking, pet names galore [baby, sweetheart, little girl, angel] size kink, reader is hella needy, reader has pubic hair bc i said so, smidgen of cockwarming, just the tip mention, dubcon*, dacryphilia, unprotected piv, nipple play, belly bulge, creampie, joel is reader’s personal weighted blanket, fluff, aftercare. *reader is not in the right headspace to properly consent to piv but she’s a-okay with it! word count: 3.8k

a/n: i’ve been to emotional (and physical) hell and back (are we back? who knows) these last few weeks and it had me yearning for daddy jackson!joel. so this is what this is. it’s a tad different from my typical style of writing and it’s not betaed and very very loosely proofread (barely looked thru it while in the waiting room lol), so it’s probably shit but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless xx

You should’ve double-checked the lock. Triple-checked it. As always. Hand to God, it slipped your mind. You were tired. Achy and sleepy, and you just wanted to go home. Back to Joel. Curl your spent body into the thick, burly warmth of his and let him cradle you until the whole day wipes itself from memory. 

You’ve been asking them for more responsibilities — a more serious role within Jackson, for months. After today, you’re sure they’ll never take you seriously. Never see you as one of them. They’re so much older and wiser — experienced. And you…well, you are not.

They never fuck up. Never make mistakes that would risk losing an important asset to this safe haven. And today you have. You fucked up. You don’t know how you forgot. It’s been your only job here, the only thing they let you have, and still — you messed it up. 

You forgot to lock the stall door to the stable for one of the horses. And not only did the horse escape but now the town is technically down one patrolman. You have completely thrown off the patrolling schedule, one that was meticulously crafted and has been in place long before you arrived in Jackson. It very rarely changed. 

You offered to lend a hand, practically begged them to send you out with the rest of the search party. But Maria, Tommy, and Joel all told you to go home while they sent a group (of which included Joel and Tommy themselves) outside the gates, well past dusk, to go looking for him. You felt entirely useless.

Begrudgingly, you scurried home, a beaten puppy in need of licking one’s wounds. Feeling the weight of the day and the frustration that has accumulated over months suddenly seeping into your bones, and you just…broke. You crawled into bed, alone in the dark, and you cried for hours, your mind spiraled, turning over the mistake you made, again and again and again. 

When it stops and the wracking sobs slow into shuddery hiccups, it’s only because you hear heavy footsteps in the hallway. Slow. Tired. But steady — sure. And that nauseating sensation in the pit of your stomach returns as the footsteps grow closer and closer. 

The door creaks open slowly, pale yellow light from the hallway spills through the crack, your puffy eyes squint and flutter against the sudden light, shape of him vague in your blurry vision, but you know it’s him: tall frame, broad shoulders, pale skin, and dark features.  

Joel. 

You curl your body tighter, making yourself as small as possible. Close your eyes, and bury your tear-stained face back into the damp royal blue of his linens, the piney scent of him everywhere: his pillows, his sheets, his mattress, clouding your mind. You hear his footsteps as he rounds the bed, feel him reach over and switch on the lamp beside you. He grunts, his joints creak as you feel his weight sinking the edge of the bed, settling himself down in the ‘c’ shape your body had formed.

“We found him. Fella was out by Hidden Pines,” voice soft, almost cautious. 

You nod silently, but you don’t look at him, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more, not wanting him to see how pathetic you look after spending hours upon hours sobbing into the pillows over a mistake you made.  

A heavy hand cups your knee over the sheets, thumb stroking bone through the fabric there. 

“It wasn’t your fault, baby.” He says, surely.

But you don’t really believe him. 

You sniffle and tilt your face away from the tear-soaked pillows just enough so he can hear you. “Yes, it was. I was the last one in there. It’s my job to take the horses back and settle them in for the night. My job to make sure they stay in the stables. It’s been my job, my only job all this time, and I can’t even do that right,” you ramble, voice breaking, bottom lip wobbling, fat tears pricking your red eyes once again. 

“No. You listen here,” he says sternly, feeling his body turn beside you, bed covers bunching up around your knees. “You did lock it, but the latch was loose, honey. Tommy and I tried ‘em. They’re due for a fixin’ n’ we should’ve been checkin’ ‘em, but that’s my job, not yours. This wasn’t on you, darlin’. You hear me?”

You avoid his eye and stay furled on the bed. Silence swells between you, and you fiddle with a stray thread in his sheets.

“He wasn’t supposed to take off like that, but he’s a younger horse,” he shrugs, and a sigh falls from his lips. “It happens. Whoever was mannin’ the wall tonight should’ve seen him. Many things were at play, baby. It wasn’t your fault.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone.

Your head snaps over your shoulder in a fury. “I could’ve helped fix it. I could’ve made it right,” you bite, shaky voice laced with venom. You don’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but it manages to stifle the sob that threatens to claw up your throat. And for a second, the irritation in your voice doesn’t rattle you until you notice Joel’s shoulders tense, and you regret it immediately. 

A whirlpool of emotions swirls in your belly. A weird noise squeaks out from your lips as you try to fruitlessly blink away the sleep and salt in your eyes. You don’t want to cry in front of him. You bury your face into the pillow again, trying to muffle the sob-like groan as you cringe away from Joel, ashamed. 

His hand drifts up your thigh, broad palm splayed across your flesh, his touch unwavering. “Sweetheart, the only reason I told you to stay here s’because it ain’t safe out there. The amount of infected may be less this time o’year but the cold…” He trails off, his grip tightening around the meat of your thigh unconsciously, “makes people meaner,” his voice grows unsteady at the thought. 

You shiver, and you suspect he feels it. He clears his throat, and tender fingers brush the strands of hair out of your face, then they trail down, and you feel the cold roughness of his skin against the warm softness of yours as his calloused hand cups your jaw, tilting it to face him, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

Your eyes pinch shut, and the dam breaks. You can’t bear to look at him. Your heart sits heavy in your chest, feeling the guilt creeping back in at his touch. His hands, usually warm, are now icy cold, and all you can think about is how you are the cause of it. He had been out in the cold longer than he needed to be because of you. You and he both know his worn bones can’t handle it, and yet, he went out there in the dead of winter as nightfall cloaked over Jackson to right your wrong, and it makes you feel terrible. 

“Baby. Look at me,” he whispers softly.

You do, and through bleary eyes you meet his weary gaze. His lips are downturned into a frown, and with a twist in his brows, that worry line in the middle of his forehead materializes. You hate being the cause of it. Your heart plops to your stomach, your throat goes thick, something rising at the base of it. 

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he implores, his voice stern but soft, eyes shifting back and forth between yours — dark amber irises so warm, pleading.  

Teach me to be good. “Just you, daddy – just need you,” you blubber, your voice innocent and small. Weak. 

He knows exactly what you mean. You have been together long enough that he reads you like an open book. You watch as he wordlessly toes off his boots with a thud. Watch as he moves to stand to unbuckle his belt, dropping it to the floor with a soft clink, his jeans, jacket, and flannel following shortly after. Watch as he shifts onto the bed, bones crackling as he lowers himself and presses his broad form into you, his knees popping as they coax yours open. Watch as one of his hands drifts south between your bodies to grip the thick root of his cock while the other bunches up your nightgown to your navel, revealing your unobstructed cunt to him.  

You whimper when the leaky head of his cock notches at the already slippery entrance of your cunt. He glides the wide cockhead between your folds, up and down, up and down, while the warmth of his breath fans across your face when his lips part to murmur, just the tip tonight, baby, s’not a good idea for you to take all o’me right now, alright? 

You nod numbly. You don’t care how much he gives you — you just need to feel him. Need him to fix you. Need him to make the hurt you feel inside go away. Need him to search for the good. Maybe it’s there, buried deep in a place only he can find. 

His hands find yours, pins them firmly above your head, and with his dark gaze holding yours, he very gently pushes his tip inside your tight, wet hole. His mouth pops open in a deep groan, and you catch it with a soft gasp of your own. 

“There you go. S’that feel better, pretty baby?” He murmurs, his jaw ticks, brows twitch.  

You nod desperately, your wide, glassy eyes going hooded. Your thighs tense around him, causing a little more of his cock to push inside, making you whimper and squirm beneath him.  

“Good. Now just listen to my voice. Just focus on me, right here,” he grunts haggardly, voice so low and commanding. And that alone makes your brain go fuzzy. 

You try to focus all your energy on his voice and the heavy weight of him on top of you and the fat tip of his cock stretching your too little hole open, but suddenly, he pulls out, and you almost whine at his absence.

But Joel doesn’t give you enough time. 

Your body moves up the bed with a jolt, gasping when his hips push forward with more force, filling your cunt with the head of his cock, and then some more, only to slip out of you again immediately after. He’s toying with you, and he’s doing so because he knows you really need this. 

He slips his cockhead gently back inside you, and you whine at the soft squelch your slicken pussy makes. The two of you revel in the lewd, wet sounds that ricochet through the room, all while never breaking eye contact. 

“My little girl just needed me to fuck all the bad thoughts away, hm?” he breathes, his nose brushes against yours.

“Mmhm,” you sigh, cunt flittering around him. 

“Needed me to stretch out her sweet little hole and make everything better, s’that it?” 

You nod frantically, moaning breathlessly. 

Joel growls. “Say yes, daddy,” he commands you softly, his fingers squeezing yours.

“Y—ye—yes, d–daddy.” Your words come out broken in between the slow rolls of his hips, but by the smirk that tugs on his lips, you know he’s proud of you anyway. 

“Good girl,” he praises, his touch featherlight as his fingers push the stray strands of hair away from your forehead, and the scruff of his chin tickles your nose as he lays an open-mouthed kiss between your furrowed brows.  

“But daddy—” you start to protest, scrunching your nose. 

Joel harrumphs as he pulls back. All of his features pull into a stern look, and to stop you, the pad of his roughened thumb sweeps across your cheek and sinks between your parted lips. 

“Na-uh. No fightin’ with daddy,” he presses gently. 

By instinct, your lips close around his digit, sucking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the thick of it, tasting the salty, woodsy flavor of him, and it only feeds the foggy haze in your mind more. 

Spit pools at the corner of your lips. His thumb moves in and out of your mouth, matching the rhythm of his thrusts as he fucks his cockhead in and out of your hole. Your mind begins to blur, but there’s still a storm stirring in your swollen eyes, and Joel, as always, can see it. 

“Alright, this ain’t workin’,” he sighs exasperatedly. 

And you think he’s utterly fed up with you not obeying him. He unsticks his body from yours, and your eyes search his face — the lines beside his eyes, the hairs in his brows, the muscles around his lips — trying to decode the emotion that flits across his features. Though, as expected, it’s near impossible to read him. Joel may have been able to crack you open, and although the years he has spent in Jackson have managed to soften him up — tiny cracks in his stony exterior over time — he remains inscrutable. 

For a moment, you think he’s going to scold you. Tell you you’re no good for him anymore. You wouldn’t blame him. You can’t seem to do anything right. Maybe he thought he wanted to take you apart, bit by careful bit. But what if he peered through the gap and saw something he didn’t like? What if he had a change of heart — now that he stepped back and assessed the damage? What if the severity of it was too much to mend? Burden too heavy to carry. He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves someone good. Someone not in need of fixing. Someone unbroken. 

But Joel surprises you. His hand retracts from your face, and instead wraps his arm around your middle, maneuvering you onto his thighs so you're straddling him. His free hand fists the hem of your nightgown, and in one swift motion, tugs the fabric over your head and tosses it aside to join his pile of clothes on the floor. His heavy hands find your waist once again, and with the head of his cock still buried deep in between your legs, he sits up and back against the headboard, grunting a low, alright, c'mere, as he takes you with him with ease.

You cling to him like a koala, body putty and pliant as he brings your weak arms to wrap around his neck. And then, a firm hand moves to cradle the back of your neck, lets you nuzzle your wet face into the dip in his shoulder, and breathe in the comfort of his scent while his other traverses the line of your spine.

Slow but steady, Joel bucks his hips up, up, up, until the entirety of his thick length works its way into the slick slide of your cunt. Your soft thatch of curls meets his, softly grazes your clit, and you writhe in his arms, sniffle, and whimper brokenly against his shoulder, but sure, gentle hands pull you into his chest tighter. You feel the strong drum of his heart against yours, thrumming against each other: ga-gung, ga-gung, ga-gung, pace quickening, like they're trying to catch up, trying to sync. Your body melts into his. Skin to skin, heart to heart, heat of your cunt to the heat of his cock; and then suddenly, two become one.

“Shh, shhh, I know, baby, I know. You got it,” he whispers, as he begins to rock you back and forth, back and forth, lulling you gently back into the haze, and everything finally fades away. 

He presses a kiss right behind your ear. “Therrrre we go, just take it, good girl,” he murmurs as a heavy hand pets your hair. And whether he’s talking about his cock or his praise, you obey regardless. Your cunt sucks the heat of his cock in deep. Let him fuck himself into you; let his warmth smolder you until your cunt ignites. Let it roar and burn and spread through your system like wildfire. Let him make you good.

The tips of his fingers move through your hair in small ministrations, gently scratching away at your skull. “Daddy—s–so big—” you whimper, your fingers pulling the hair at the nape of his neck, tears welling up in your eyes as something low in your belly begins to churn. 

“Shhh, angel, it’s okay. I know, s’a lot,” he soothes, feeling his deep voice reverberate against your chest. Your cunt contracts at his praise, and the steady pace of his hips falters briefly; he groans deeply when he feels his tip choked tight within your walls, “you’re doin’ so good for me, sweetheart, so good.”  

He continues his shallow thrusts while he rocks you in his arms. There’s a low static buzz in your ears, but you can still hear the perverse chant that manages to fall from your lips — one that grows louder with every roll of his hips, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy. And in turn, he murmurs incessant blabbers of, you’re okay, angel, daddy’s here, daddy’s gotcha, into your hair, punctuating every one of his words with a soft kiss to your temple and a slow buck of his hips.  

The tip of his cock nudges that soft ridge deep inside you, and he feels your cunt flutter around him. “You gonna come for me, angel, hm? You gonna be a real good girl for daddy and let me feel this drippy little pussy come all over me?” He coos.  

“Uh-huh,” you murmur. 

Deft fingers curl around the back of your neck, and with the slightest of pressure, he squeezes once, gently instructing you to use your words. A silent command. 

“Y-yes, daddy, I prom–I promise, I wanna be good. I wanna be good,” you mewl.

His nose drags along the side of your face, down, down, down, until his heated lips meet your pulse point. “Go on, baby, let go n’ get daddy all messy. Show daddy how good of a girl you are,” he rambles, his voice a low vibration, goosebumps prickling in its wake.

With your tight cunt full and impaled on his cock, your clit throbs, eager for more friction. You rut your hips against his, humping him like a dog in heat as you rub your puffy pearl against the graying curls there, smearing him in your slick just as he insisted.   

And within seconds, your body constricts, navel pulls taut, and then something fiery in your belly erupts. Your body begins to tremble as stars burst behind your eyelids, liquid heat turns your mind and body molten, melting away completely with the force of your release.

“Daaaddy,” you cry, lips quivering. Your muscles go lax, and your body slumps in his hold, feeling the last of your energy leaving you. Your head lulls back, and his hand slides up the base of your neck in time to catch it in his massive palm.

He clutches you tight, marveling at your fucked-out form in his arms while babbling praises of,  ohhh–that’s it, that’s it, good job, baby, such a good fuckin’ girl— daddy’s so proud of you, as warm tears roll down your face. And it only spurs him on. 

His languid strokes speed up, your body jolts above him violently, weeping cunt fluttering repeatedly around him. Your mouth falls open, wanton moans escape past your parted lips as he fucks you harder. “Christ, that’s it, that’s my girl. Look at you, perfect little thing,” he pants, coaxing you through your orgasm. 

His eyes drop quickly to watch the bounce of your tits, nipples peaked and gleaming with beads of sweat. He dips his head to one sticky breast, and with a flick of his hot tongue, he laps up the salt on your skin. 

It elicits a sharp gasp from you, your chewed fingernails desperately trying to claw at him, your body arching against his mouth, and you feel him grin against the curve of your breast. His mouth drifts, wraps his whiskered lips around your other swollen nipple, tongue swirls the pointed bud, teasing you with a graze of his teeth across the wet peak before nipping it, tugging the stiffened point ever so slightly between his teeth.  

“Daddy–oh!” You choke on a moan, and your spent pussy clenches around him so tight, your cunt is almost forcing him out. His hips buck into you harder in response, his thrusts growing more erratic as he seeks his own release. 

Joel hisses, mouth releasing your tit with a wet pop, “sweet Jesus, m’gonna give it to you real good, baby—like you deserve, fuck—”

He's cut off by the strangled groan that rips through his chest, his back arches off the headboard, and you feel him twitch. His grasp on your enervated form tightens, and then a blazing heat spreads inside you. His sweaty forehead falls to your dampened chest, the swell of your breasts cushioning the drop of his head, his body convulsing as he pumps upwards into your core. Cock pulsing and spasming within your walls as he continues to spill inside you, your belly swelling and set to burst full of his seed.  

Joel slumps back against the headboard, his arms loosen, but they don’t release you, just holds you there on top of him as he presses hasty kisses and whispers shaky sweet nothings into your hair while his hot seed dribbles out around his length, turning the hair at the root of his cock into a pool of sticky milky white.  

You don’t know if it’s minutes or hours that pass by as you stay limp in his lap, breathing in the sweat and sex on his skin as you snuggle back into his neck, the heat a low simmer. But when he runs a warm, wet rag between your legs and uses the same one to wipe your mixed wet off of his shaft before he tucks you in with a peck to your lips, the tip of your nose, a long kiss to your forehead, and lays himself on top of you with the full weight of him, pulling the comforter up to trap the heat of your bodies between you, sore cunt plugged with his softened cock once more, you know that he makes you feel whole. Not ruined or broken. Not stupid or useless or helpless. And in truth, it's all you’ve ever known with him.

As you slip gently into the waiting black, small fingers that draw circles into his silver curls come to a slow, you think you hear a quiet sigh — feel his lips lazily form around the words against your tacky skin — something of, you are good, angel tucked away into the valley between your naked breasts like a secret. And you think you believe him, and for now, that’s enough for you.

[darkbluekies]

In the hands of a madman 2024 ver

Doctor!yandere oc x reader

Summary: a doctor is very peculiar about his favorite patient, and senses a threat once they disobey him.

Warnings: yandere, poison, murder, cuff restraints

Word count: 2.4k

You gag.

“Yes, yes, I know”, he coos, grimacing and removes the wooden stick out of your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

You're left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Why does he always stick that thing as far down your throat as humanly possible? You thank heavens that it’s not one of the needles extracting blood from your arm, although you’re sure that’s what’s waiting tomorrow.

“Still nothing?” you ask cautiously. 

He meets your eyes and you know immediately. You sigh heavily. Your heart sinks to your stomach. 

Every three months, he’s doing all sorts of tests to see if you’re getting better — or what’s what he’s saying. Every three months, Dr Kry has to check every vital sign on you to make sure that his sickness isn’t getting out of his control. But you don’t like them. They hurt. Badly.

“Will I ever get to go home? I want to.” 

Dr Kry sighs and sits down on his rolling stool, coming over to your bed.

“I know you do, but you that’s not possible”, he says apologetically. “You know that too.”

“Yeah, because you keep reminding me”, you mutter. 

“That’s better than giving you false hope, isn’t it? Wouldn’t that drive you insane?”

It would, but you don’t say it out loud. Doesn’t need to.

“I want to go home!” you say again, louder this time. 

“Saying it louder won’t make you better or me change my mind”, Dr Kry says. 

You sigh and press your palms to your eyes, trying to press the tears back into your eyes before they escape. You’ve been here for too long by now. You’ve been isolated for so incredibly long. ALl you want is to go home. You know no one, talk to no one beside him. The proper, sophisticated man who’s stiffer than a stick. Dr Kry sighs and moves closer. 

“I know that you’re disappointed”, he says and puts his large hand on your shoulder. “But this is for the best. “I don’t want you to get worse.”

“I hate these fucking tests! They hurt.”

“I know.”

He glances towards the white air purifier on the shelf beside the bed. The poisoned air purifier. He’s always making sure it’s not too much, not too little. Just the exact amount to keep you where he wants you — weak and vulnerable, dependent on him. 

“I know it’s hard”, he says encouragingly. “I know that you’re in pain, but you’re doing so good. You can always call for me if you need me, okay? I’m available all day and night for you.”

You press forward a smile, but can’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. Why did this happen to you? Where did you go wrong to end up here? How could a sore throat get you bed bound in a hospital room? If only you knew. 

“Let’s get you tucked in again”, Dr Kry says and helps you lie down in bed. “You shouldn’t be putting to much pressure on your body.”

He pushes up your pillows, having you lie in a 45-degree angle. It helps you breathe at night. He always tucks the blanket close to your body, as if you were a butterfly in a cocoon. He gives you a small smile before standing up. 

“Please don’t go”, you whisper. “I don’t want to be left here.”

The man looks at you, studies you carefully before nodding and sitting back down. He wipes your lonely tear with his finger. He looks at his wet finger, thinking. 

“I feel helpless”, you admit. “I don’t think I’ll ever get well again.”

Little do you know that’s exactly what he wants. 

“It’s okay, Y/N”, he says. “I will take care of you. I will stay with you until you’re well again.”

He has to force back a smile. 

“I don’t want to do these anymore”, you say monotonously. 

“I know you don’t, but you have to”, Dr Kry says apologetically and moves closer to the bed on his rolling stool. “They’re important.”

“They hurt …”

“I know, but you’re doing so good, okay? I’m so proud of you.”

You give him a small, painful smile. 

“I’ll sit here until you fall asleep, don’t worry”, he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You close your eyes slowly. He fades out. 

He takes blood tests the following day. Needles, pain.

“Now, you need to take a nap”, he says and tucks you in. 

The daily afternoon nap. You hate it, but he insists. While you sleep, he’s out taking care of other patients that are not you. He hates it, hates wasting his time and skill on people that aren’t you. Those patients are one time patients that are there for surgeries, consultations or checkups. No long term patients that have to stay in the hospital. Everyone gets to leave after he meets them. Everyone but you. You stay. 

You keep your eyes closed until Dr Kry leaves the room. Quickly, you sit up and get out of bed. After all these fucking tests, you’re deserving of something else than the tasteless cardboard Dr Kry gets you. Just one brownie. Something that has sugar. And maybe some coffee for caffeine too. 

Quietly, you sneak out into the corridor. There’s something about these sterile passageways that makes the hair on your back stand on its end. Is it the dehumanized area or the fact that you’re never allowed here? Is it nerves or excitement? Whatever it is, you decide to speed up your steps and hurry towards the elevators before anyone sees you. They’ll tell him. Just as the doors are about to close, someone stops the doors. A boy dressed in a similar hospital gown as yourself forces his way into the elevator. He gives you a rushed, apologetic smile. 

“Sorry”, he says sheepishly. “I am in a hurry.”

“What happened to you?” you ask and smile halfly. 

“I escaped from the therapist. A real pain in my ass.”

You can’t help but giggle. The young man licks his lips and runs a hand through his hair. 

“Have you met her?” he asks. “The therapist?”

“No”, you say. 

You haven’t met anyone but your stiff and proper doctor. 

“Don’t”, the young man advices you and leans his back against the wall. “She’s mental. I honestly think she should be the one getting interrogated — not me.” He looks at you, eyes narrowing. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“Do you meet others?” you ask. 

“In the lounge. Have you been there?”

You shake your head and lower your eyes. 

“Did you just arrive?” the man asks. 

You shake your head again. 

“How long have you been here?”

“A while.”

The elevator stops and the doors open at your floor. 

“Are you going to the cafeteria?” the man asks. 

“Yes”, you reply. 

“I’m coming with you. Maybe you can help me blend in.”

“Okay.”

The boy seems frantic, but happy. Running on adrenaline and excitement. Together, you walk through the hospital to the cafeteria and realize that you don’t have any money. Your shoulders fall. Did you come here for nothing? 

“Aren’t you going to order something?” the young man asks. 

“I don’t know”, you reply quietly. 

Before you have the time to come up with a lie why you can’t order anything, you recognise something in the corner of your eye. A blonde man dressed in a white robe. You feel your blood run cold. 

“What do we have here?” Dr Kry asks and you have a hard time reading his tone or facial expressions. “What do you think you are doing out of bed?”

He walks over to you and grabs your shoulder. You flinch. His grip is … tight. Painful. 

“You’re supposed to rest”, Dr Kry says shortly.

He looks at the young man. His eyes seem to go right through him. 

“Where are you supposed to be?” he asks. 

He doesn’t answer. Dr Kry gives him a cold gaze before grabbing your upper arm in a tight grip. He doesn’t say anything as he starts to pull you with him. His steps are quick, steady. Angry. 

“Doctor …”, you try.

He doesn’t answer. Dr Kry pushes you into the elevator and presses the button. He doesn't let go of your arm.

“Doctor, I’m sorry”, you say. 

He still doesn’t answer. You barely dare to look at him. There’s something about his face that scares you. It's stoic, unreadable. But he oozes anger. Like a dark cloud.

The elevator stops, the doors open. His tight grip remains as he drags you back into your room.

“Lay down”, he instructs shortly.

You do, too scared to disobey. Dr Kry walks past you, to the drawers by your bed. He rips out two leather bands that look like belts for dolls. Before you're aware of what he's doing, he's strapped one of your wrists to the bed railing.

“Wait, doctor-”, you blurt out.

“Be quiet.”

He locks your other wrist to the other railing. You tug at the restraints, and find them secure.

“Are they too tight?” Dr Kry asks, still with that short tone that sends icy needles down your spine.

“Doctor, what are you-?”

“Answer the question. Do they hurt?”

“No.”

“Good.”

He turns to his desk, ignoring you.

“Doctor, I'm sorry”, you say.

“You broke my trust”, he says without giving you any attention. “It's important, for your healing, that you do not deceive me. I need to be able to trust that you do as I say. How many times have you done this?”

“Only this time, I promise.”

He doesn't answer. You feel how your eyes fill with tears. Your body is in such a vulnerable state that your body betrays you. You didn't want to upset him, didn't want to put your own health at risk by doing this. 

“I'm sorry, doctor”, you sniffle. “I didn't mean to break your trust.”

He sighs and turns his head to look at you. His blue eyes soften and he rises from his chair, coming over to your bed. He can't stay mad at you, not when you're clearly dumb. You don't understand, he can't be mad at you for not understanding. He should — and is — mad at himself for not foreseeing these situations and making sure you don't do it.

“You know that I only want what's best for you, don't you?” he asks and wipes your tears with his hand.

“Yes”, you reply.

“In that case, I want you to never repeat this mistake. Mistakes are forgivable, but they should be minimized, do you understand that?”

“Yes. Do you forgive me?”

He has to force back a smile. You're so unbelievably cute.

“Yes, I do forgive you”, he says. 

“Can you take off the restraints?”

“No. I might forgive you, but I need you to know what happens once mistakes occur. This is the consequences that follow. If I can't trust you to be where I want you to be, I need to take precautions to make sure you are.”

You lower your gaze.

“Who was that, by the way?” he asks. “That young … man. Why did you speak to him?”

“I don't know, he took the same elevator as me.”

“I don't want you to speak with him again. If he's the one they're looking for, I don't want you getting influenced by his reckless ideas.”

“I don't get to speak to anyone, anyways.”

“And that's how it should be. We don't know why you're sick, and you shouldn't contaminate someone else.”

“What about you, then? You can get sick too.”

“I'm ready to take that risk.”

He's too nice, you think. All he wants is to take care of you and you put his selfless risks to hell when you decide to disobey him. How horrible of you.

“Now, you need to take that nap for real”, he says. “I will sit by my desk. If you need something you can just let me know.”

He walks back to his desk and sits down, starting to file some paperwork. You tug at the restraints. You're not going anywhere.

When you’ve fallen asleep, Dr Kry makes his way through the hospital. They’ve captured that young man and put him back into his room … and Dr Kry wants a talk with him. He opens the door quietly. The young lays in bed, sleeping. Dr Kry circles around him, taking a good look at him. Did you find him cute? Hot? Did you like talking to him? Did you think that he was better than him? Did you enjoy those ten minutes with him more than these months with Kry? Do you want to meet with him again? He glares at the sleeping man. Dr Kry walks over to the supply closet, an identical to the one in your room, and takes out one of the spare pillows. Silently, he walks over to the bed, lifts the pillow and presses it over the young man’s face. He widen his eyes, pulled out of his slumber. He screams against the pillow, his voice getting muffled in the fabric. 

“Normally, I’d make this easy for you”, Dr Kry grunts as the man starts to fight against him. “Out of pity, but you don’t deserve that mercy.”

He screams in confusion, fear. Dr Kry can make out words. What. No. Help. Stop.

“Just give in and give yourself that mercy”, Dr Kry continues. “If you continue to fight against me, you’ll be in more pain.”

The man cries. Dr Kry breaks out into a smile. 

“You’re going to die either way, you can choose to end it quicker.”

The young man doesn’t seem to get the memo. He continues to fight, cry, plead. He drinks it all in. The horror, the helplessness. The dear in headlight. He has seen the light in people’s eyes disappear multiple times during his job as a doctor. To see the moment someone becomes just a piece of flesh. He has never enjoyed it as much as now. The man stops moving. Dr Kry removes the pillow and takes a step back, looking at the lifeless body. He breathes out. Finally, he can calm down. 

And now, all he needs to do is to make sure he can not be traced back. 

He finds you sleeping soundly as he comes back to your room, wrists still locked to the sides of the bed. You make his heart ache. He sits down beside you, brushing his fingertips over your cheek. 

I control your life, my little one. You’re going to say with me and I’ll take every repercussion to make sure you don’t disappear. 

[incognit0slut]

Nervous

Softcore in which you’re overwhelmed by how far he would go to protect your safety.

Category: Angst Word count: 2.3k Content: minor injury, overprotective spencer, avoidant attachment reader if you squint a/n: i've always wanted to do the "man goes crazy after you're hurt" trope and this seems like the right opportunity. and just so you know i’m actually hyperventilating while typing this bc apparently the neighborhood is coming back!! with new music!! after 4 years!! can you tell i'm excited!!!!

-

“Where is she?”

Spencer demands. Something he’s been doing a lot lately — speaking with a tone that expects answers to materialize out of thin air. The authority that drips from his voice would normally send a pleasant shiver down your spine, you can even admit there’s a time and place where it would be more than welcome when far less clothing is involved. But right now? In the back of an ambulance with your head splitting in two and his words scraping against what’s left of your nerves?

Not so much.

Your skull is throbbing. The cold metal bench is digging into you uncomfortably, and the sterile scent of disinfectant claws at your throat with a vicious persistence of acid. Your stomach twists at the bitter, chemical burn. His voice only makes it worse.

���Stop shouting,” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut against the stabbing pain.

He swivels on his heel as soon as your mouth parts to speak. “What were you thinking?”

You peel your eyes open just enough to glare at him, wincing as your head throbs in protest. “What does it look like I was thinking? I was doing my job.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “You could’ve been killed.”

“I’m fine.”

“Fine?” He practically chokes on the word. “You call this fine?”

“I’m not dead, am I?”

“You almost were. Do you even realize how reckless that was?”

“Of course I realized the risk. I assessed it.”

“No, you didn’t. You slipped an entire perimeter detail and dove head-first into a hostage situation.”

“Again, I was doing my job.”

“Without notifying any of us.”

You fight the reflex to roll your eyes.

“If it matters to you that much, next time it happens I’ll check with you before I try not to die. Happy?”

Sarcasm seems like the last thing you should’ve resorted to. His posture is stiff and straight, shoulders locked in a rare display of tension. Something you haven’t seen in months when he’s kept his emotions buried under layers of forced composure. But you are your own worst enemy when it comes to self-preservation, and that applies just as much to arguments as it does to danger.

His scowl deepens, and for a second you think he’s going to let you have it. You're already bracing yourself for an onslaught of logic and statistics — the odds of survival, the risks of your actions, the percentage of people who don’t make it out alive when they do exactly what you did.

That’s when he stops. Dead in his tracks.

A sudden breeze ghosts across your lower stomach, and it takes you a second to realize that your shirt must have inched up with all the shifting you can’t seem to stop doing. You barely have time to process it before you see the change in him. His face drains of color. Paler than usual. Paler than he already is.

“What did he do?”

You follow his gaze, and there it is. A galaxy of green and purple in the shape of five fingers and a large palm across your ribs like some twisted badge of honor. You hadn’t even felt it until now, but the second your eyes land on it, a dull, aching throb pulses beneath your skin.

You quickly tug your shirt over the angry bruise. “Nothing."

But he’s already moving. His knees drag against the rough asphalt as he pushes your shirt back up, fingers brushing over your skin with a touch that feels too soft for the situation.

Your bloodshot eyes waver frantically.

“Spencer,” you hiss, glancing around. “Spencer, stop, you’re making a scene.”

A quick scan of the cramped space tells you the only audience is the medics, and while they’re pretending to mind their own business, the raised eyebrows aren’t exactly subtle. One of them coughs — whether it’s to cover a laugh or clear his throat, you can’t tell. Though your face still heats at the scrutiny.

"Spencer."

"This could’ve been worse."

You shove his hand away and yank your shirt down. “But it's not. I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that,” he presses. “You’re clearly not fine.”

Irritation pulses behind your temples. "Then stop acting like I’m weak, I did what I had to do.”

“What you did was reckless,” he reminds you again. “You should have waited. You had backup for a reason.”

“Someone could've died if I waited.”

"You almost died."

You exhale sharply. “Well he didn’t get the chance, did he? JJ found me and shot the guy in the leg before it could get that far.”

Which, honestly, was pretty damn impressive, considering you were fighting for your life. One second you were pinned beneath a man twice your size, adrenaline roaring in your ears so loud you could barely think, and the next — bang. Clean shot to the leg.

“If it were me,” he grumbles, “I would’ve shot him in the head.”

You scoff. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“I would,” he insists.

Your gaze shifts from the ground to his eyes, and that’s when you see it. The dark flecks in his brown irises seem to glow with an edge you’ve never quite caught before. Or maybe you have, but only in flashes. A flicker of something sharp in the set of his jaw when someone underestimates him. A muted warning when a suspect creeps too close. An imperceptible moment of tension when his fingers clench around your waist amidst the heat you both refuse to define.

It dawns on you that those hard lines around his eyes were always there, smoldering beneath his careful veneer of logic and reason. You just never knew you had the power to coax them onto the surface.

Spencer is protective — that much you knew. But not in a way that feels directed solely at you. Not when your relationship with him is already tangled in the space between labels that neither of you dares to clarify. He nitpicks your choices more than any friend should, yet he’s pinned you to the mattress far more often than you care to admit. Now hearing him say he’d actually break the very foundation of who he is sends your pulse into a clumsy rhythm.

His features are blurred by the disbelief flooding behind your eyes.

“You don’t mean that,” you say, hollow words sinking on your tongue.

He doesn’t even blink.

“If I ever found someone hurting you, I would put a bullet between their eyes and sleep just fine."

Your heart suddenly feels too big for the tight space in your chest. Too many emotions hit you all at once.

A little bit of fear.

A little bit of awe.

A lot of something else you don’t want to name.

You swallow against the dryness in your throat.

“Don’t worry, you’ll never have to. I can handle myself.”

The lines on his forehead deepens. “Just promise me you won’t do something like this again.”

You pull away and blink against the wind seeping through the open doors. It stings, his lack of faith in your judgment. The sharp bite of the cold air mirrors that prick as it slips under your collar, brushing over your blemished skin with a chill that's almost as piercing as the siren wailing incessantly in your ears.

But even that shrill cry can’t drown out the pounding in your head.

“You, of all people, know I can’t promise you that," you mutter, voice scraping the back of your throat.

His breath curls into the air as he replies, “At least tell me you’ll be more careful.”

“I was careful.”

“No, you were lucky. There’s a difference.”

Goosebumps rise on your arms that have nothing to do with the cold. He's right. Maybe it was luck. A fraction of a second, a shift in timing. A cosmic accident that decided you’d walk away instead of being zipped into a body bag. It wasn’t skill, nor caution. It was pure, dumb luck that you weren’t lying somewhere colder and permanent with the earth pressing down on you instead of the weight of his stare.

But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right.

"You're being dramatic,” you try to deadpan, shooting him a weary look.

He narrows his eyes at you into tiny slits, and you resist the urge to bristle under the scrutiny. He’s studying you too hard. He’s looking at you like you’re some kind of equation he can’t solve, as if he stares long enough he’ll find the variable that explains why you don’t seem to value your own life the way he does.

You feel the need to defend yourself.

“I jabbed him in the throat,” you try again, gesturing loosely, “caught him off guard, and then went for his weapon. The whole thing took maybe five seconds—less, if you count how quickly he hit the ground after that first shot.”

“Five seconds could have cost you your life.”

“It didn't,” you counter quickly. Shift your eyes to your hands. Tongue your cheek. Try to justify your action. “And let’s not pretend you wouldn’t have done the same. You've jumped into danger more times than I can count.”

His entire body goes still.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t exactly have a great track record for your own safety.” Your voice isn’t sharp, but there’s an edge to it. A tired sort of bite. “Are we conveniently forgetting all the times you’ve ignored protocol?”

The silence that follows is almost unsettling. He doesn’t react at first, doesn’t even breathe as far as you can tell. You wonder if you’ve managed to break him, if the sheer hypocrisy of his argument has finally caught up to him, if the logic has knocked him right through the bulletproof vest he always insists offers enough protection when you both know better.

Maybe he’s running through every instance you could be referring to. Is he tallying up his own recklessness? Those dangerous leaps of faith he’s taken without hesitation?

The wheels in his head are turning so fast you can almost hear them grinding.

“That’s different," he finally says.

You snort softly. Double standard.

“How is it different?”

His eyes are jaded as they swivel over your face.

“Because it’s you.”

He says it so quietly you almost didn't hear him. But you did, too loud and clear with your heart in your throat, then falter.

You're the one robbed of words now, a knot of half-formed syllables stuck to your tongue. You’re so caught off guard that you barely even register the overhead sirens blaring somewhere above you. Or the distant chatter of medics. The hum of radio static, a faint, crackling drone that seems to come from miles away. Everything is drowned out by the way your pulse hammers against your skin.

You can only focus on the flashes of color streaking across his face. Red, then blue, then red again. It catches the flecks of gold and green in his hazel eyes. Traces the sharp line of his nose, slides over his parted lips. Lingers on the pale scar under his chin that you’ve seen a hundred times but never really noticed until now.

You also notice how small the space between you feels. How the air surrounding you crackles. How the oxygen is lacking, and your lungs are suffering from it. How the distance between you seems to fold inward with each heartbeat.

A thump of his knees against the coarse dirt.

A pulse in the brief pause that follows.

A tick of gravity pulls you toward the shadow of a man you rarely encounter.

You're not sure how to handle this version of him, stripped of his layers of detachment. The version that exists in the slithers of time before his features school into that practiced neutrality he wears so well. A rare side of him that flickers into view — ephemeral as a stray synapse sparking in that immense brainpower he usually shields. Delicate in its existence.

And what do you do with a Spencer who isn’t just the mind, but also the heart? The heart that he guards so fiercely it sometimes seems like he forgets he has one. Until he doesn’t. Until it’s right there, beating openly in front of you. Perhaps oblivious to his own knowledge.

So you do what you always do when it gets too much. You exhale, slow and shallow.

Then you look away.

“You worrying about me this much is new," you mutter, eyes glued to his crooked tie. “I’m not sure I like it.”

“Then promise me you won’t make a habit of this.”

“This is not the debrief I was expecting.”

One thing that hasn’t changed is his stubbornness. “Promise me.”

You hesitate, knowing a promise like that isn’t yours to give. But he opens his mouth again, and a slow breath in the shape of your name falls from his lips. A pleading sort of whisper that travels every curve of your body, and by the time it lingers at the base of your spine, your nerves flutter.

The thrum in your veins surpasses even the rush of adrenaline you felt moments ago. This isn’t survival. Survival is instinct and reaction, it’s raw nerves driving you forward without conscious thought. This is recognition, awareness, because the way your name rolls off his tongue isn’t a simple request — it’s an opening. A sliver of space carved into the dense tangle of his armor, an admission slipping through the cracks before he can smooth them over.

And if you’re seeing a fracture in that carefully guarded part of him, maybe it’s only fair to meet him halfway.

Let whatever light he’s offering in.

Let it reach the places you pretend don’t need warmth.

You finally release a slow breath through your nose as he continues to look up at you. “I’ll try,” you comply.

His shoulders slump. Your answer isn’t enough.

But for now, it’s all you have.

"I got goosebumps all over me, when you're around it's hard for me to breathe." Nervous—The Neighbourhood

[ari-ana-bel-la]

hello can you do a fic where one of the drivers (carlos, george,lando) daughters has her wisdom teeth taken out and shes super nervous but her dad calms her down and helps her after surgery?

Wisdom Teeth

The morning sun filtered through the light curtains of Yn’s bedroom, illuminating the nervous sixteen-year-old as she stood in front of her mirror, clutching a bottle of pineapple juice like it was a lifeline. Her eyes, usually bright with curiosity and humor, were clouded with anxiety. Her hands trembled slightly as she took another sip, and her reflection stared back with a tight-lipped frown that matched the pit in her stomach.

From the hallway, Rebecca’s voice floated in.

“Sweetheart, are you still drinking pineapple juice?”

Yn’s voice was quiet, a little shaky. “I read it helps with swelling...”

Carlos popped his head into the doorway, grinning as he leaned against the frame with crossed arms. “Mi amor, I think you’ve had enough pineapple juice to turn into one.”

Rebecca chuckled behind him, walking in and ruffling her daughter’s hair gently. “You’re going to be okay, Yn. It’s just your wisdom teeth.”

“Just my wisdom teeth?” Yn squeaked, turning to face them both, her eyes wide. “They’re going to rip teeth out of my skull. That doesn’t feel like a small thing, mamá.”

Carlos pushed himself off the doorway and came to wrap an arm around her shoulder. “They’re not ripping anything, princesa. They’re gently taking out teeth you don’t need anymore. Think of it like decluttering. You know how your mamá made us get rid of all those old clothes last spring?”

“That was different,” Yn mumbled, her head falling onto his chest. “The clothes didn’t bleed.”

Carlos and Rebecca both burst out laughing, but Carlos tightened his arm around his daughter, brushing his hand over her hair.

“We’ll be with you the whole time,” he said gently. “I’ll hold your hand the entire time if you want.”

She sniffled a bit but nodded. “Okay... but can we go now before I change my mind?”

The drive to the dental office was quiet—at least from Yn’s end. Her legs kept bouncing up and down nervously, her sneaker tapping against the floor of the car with rapid rhythm. Rebecca was humming softly to the radio while Carlos drove, glancing at his daughter every few seconds in the rearview mirror.

“You’re shaking the whole car,” Carlos teased, reaching back to gently touch her knee. “You’re going to burn a hole through the floor.”

Yn gave him a weak smile. “Sorry... I can’t stop.”

Rebecca turned in her seat to look back at her. “It’s okay to be scared, sweet girl. I was terrified when I had mine taken out too.”

“You were?” Yn looked surprised.

“Terrified,” Rebecca nodded, her voice warm and reassuring. “Your dad had to bribe me with six milkshakes and a foot massage.”

Carlos scoffed. “That’s not what happened.”

Rebecca grinned. “Oh, it definitely is.”

Yn let out a nervous laugh. “If I survive this, I want milkshakes too.”

“Deal,” Carlos said immediately.

At the dental office, Yn sat stiffly in the waiting room chair, clutching a soft fleece blanket she’d brought from home. She hadn’t said a word since they checked in. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, and her breathing was shallow.

Carlos sat down beside her and placed a hand on her knee. “Princesa,” he said softly, “look at me.”

She turned her head, and he could see the panic rising in her eyes.

Carlos leaned forward and took both her hands in his. “I know this is scary. But you’re not alone, okay? I’m going to be with you every single second. I’ll hold your hand until you fall asleep, and I’ll be there when you wake up. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she quickly blinked them away. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Cross my heart, te lo juro.”

When the nurse came to get her, Carlos stood immediately. “I’m coming too,” he said, as if daring anyone to challenge him.

The nurse just smiled and led them both down the hallway.

Carlos kept his promise.

He held her hand tightly as she lay back in the chair, the anesthesiologist working quickly and kindly. He ran his thumb over her knuckles and murmured soft, calming words in Spanish as her eyelids fluttered closed.

“I love you, Papá,” she whispered, voice already fading under the drugs.

“I love you more, mija.”

An hour later, Yn began to stir.

Her eyelashes fluttered, and she mumbled something unintelligible through the cotton stuffed in her mouth. Her eyes squinted in confusion, her brows furrowed like she was trying to solve a math problem.

“Papá?” she slurred, voice high and panicked. “Where’s my Papá? Where’s my... where’s my mouth? I think they took my whole mouth!”

Carlos leaned forward from the chair beside her and cupped her cheek gently. “I’m right here, mi amor. Still have your mouth. A little swollen, maybe, but it’s all there.”

Yn blinked up at him with big, teary eyes. “Oh my God, you’re so pretty. Are you an angel? Did I die?”

Carlos bit back laughter. “No, you’re very much alive, cariño. You just had your wisdom teeth out.”

She blinked again, slowly. “Is it okay that I love you? Like a lot? Oh my God, I wish you were my Papá.”

Carlos laughed quietly and brushed some hair from her forehead. “It’s very okay.”

“I love you more than... than... more than pineapple juice,” she declared.

“That’s a lot of love,” he teased.

They got her into a wheelchair, and Carlos helped guide her toward the exit. She was still groggy, her head bobbing, and every few seconds she would gasp loudly like she just had the greatest realization known to man.

As Carlos gently helped her into the car, Yn gasped so loudly Rebecca jumped.

“What? What is it?” Carlos asked, concern flickering through him.

Yn stared at him, wide-eyed. “Papá,” she said slowly, dramatically, “what if... what if every statue is actually a person who looked at Medusa?”

Carlos blinked.

Then blinked again.

Then let out a long sigh, shaking his head and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’re not doing philosophy today, princesa. Let’s just get you home.”

“But think about it—every statue,” she whispered, her words muffled by the cotton, her finger pointed to the sky as if revealing a conspiracy.

Carlos chuckled as he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s seat. “Rebecca,” he said as he buckled in, “our daughter just solved ancient mythology.”

Rebecca snorted. “At least she’s high and smart.”

The whole drive home, Carlos kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding his daughter’s, just like he promised. He kept glancing at her in the mirror as she mumbled about Greek gods, chicken nuggets, and how she was pretty sure the dentist was a sorcerer.

And even though she was high on anesthesia, cotton in her mouth and cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, Carlos had never seen anyone more perfect.

“You did great, princesa,” he murmured, smiling as he turned into their driveway. “So proud of you.”

Yn blinked at him from the back seat, dazed and loopy but smiling.

“I’m proud of me too,” she said with a slurred lisp, then added, “Can I have... twenty milkshakes now?”

Carlos laughed, already getting out of the car. “You’re lucky I love you.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[girlkisser13]

dating tim drake would include

• tim is really sweet. he’ll kiss you to welcome you home or say goodbye when he goes out on patrol and he’ll happily carry you to bed if you fall asleep on the sofa and makes sure to tell you that he loves you everyday.

• he hacks your computer sometimes (for good reasons though). like you’ll just turn on your computer/laptop and your background is changed to a picture of you and tim together. <33

• even though everyone knows that you’re dating he still gets quite flustered and is prone to blushing if you call him a pet name in front of others. (you’d definitely do this just to see him blush).

• tim has your coffee order memorized (no matter how complicated it is).

• tim is SUPER clingy when he’s sleepy, like he can be needy and just want to hug and kiss you all the time. they’re kinda sloppy because he’s tired but his lust for affection is still cute.

• he cuddles or hugs you any chance he gets to make up for the many hours he spends on his computer away from you.

• since he’s a detective, he notices every detail including anything off about yourself. if something is wrong he will notice immediately no matter how good you are at hiding it, afterward he’d do pretty much anything to make you feel better. (even leave his computer for a day or so).

• he notices everything about you. favorite flower, favorite color, he always seems to notice that you’re cold even before you do and wraps his jacket around you. that intense focus can be a lot, sometimes, a bit overwhelming even. but at the same time you’re touched that he just seems so interested in everything about you. he wants to learn every last detail about you and is willing to take the time to do so.

• tim works really hard and doesn’t keep regular sleep patterns as a result, which means it’s up to you to make sure he gets proper sleep most of the time. plus, you’re one of the few people he actually listens to since you’re basically his favourite person. <33

• you have to learn most of his sweet spots to use against him whenever you’re trying to drag him away from the computer for a break.

• he remembers important dates even if it’s last minute— he still remembers. anniversaries, birthdays, you name it and if it’s anything to do with you then he’ll remember it and usually buys the best gifts for you.

• he celebrates the most ridiculous anniversaries, and he always remembers them. like, “it’s been one year since the first time you held my hand” or “it’s been a month since we went to that fair and rode the ferris wheel”.

• he lets you play with his hair and it’s so entertaining, he doesn’t mind and finds it relaxing when you run your fingers through it, he always checks to see what he looks like after you’ve styled it whether it be a man bun, ponytail, or braids. you told him that he looked good in a loose ponytail once and you he didn’t take it out for whole day.

• the two of you get take out food at least once a week because tim cannot cook to save his life, he just gets too distracted and the food gets burnt. he will also take time just to eat with you and ask about your day rather than work or will watch tv with you.

• tim LOVES watching detective shows with you but but sometimes it can get annoying because will usually ruin the ending by telling you who the criminal is and the exact reasons for his motives so it’s difficult to ignore the fact he just destroyed the next 45 minutes for you.

• he’s a literal genius so if you need help with anything he is on it, he’s actually written your essays for you before but you know that you couldn’t pass them off as your own because it’s not your writing style and you redo them using his basic ideas. you’re very appreciative of his assistance but tell him he doesn’t need to do that for you. however, he shakes it off as if it was nothing.

• he loves you and your acceptance of his coffee loving and sleep-deprived ways. <33

[zevrra]

—𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [⋆｡°✩]

syn: just some random sfw & nsfw hc’s i have for jayce and viktor from arcane!!

includes: gn!reader, 18(+) only, fluff, established relationships, mention of kïnks, mention of drinking/being drunk

extra(s): may flesh these out a little more at some point but these are just little thoughts i’ve had in my head recently AAA (check out my other arcane stuff if you enjoy <3)

JAYCE

a heavy sleeper!! can sleep through all 11 alarms he’s set(they’re all set 5 mins apart) but when he does finally wake up he’s somehow a morning person…wakes up full of energy and ready to start the day

drinks black coffee straight up. no sugar or cream and hates the taste but says it helps him “wake up”

sleeps in just boxers

a light WEIGHT!! it takes a total of 2 drinks before he’s buzzed. his max is probably 6 drinks before he’s almost black out drunk

takes 2 hour long showers

hums! he hums aaaalllll the time just anywhere and everywhere! is always humming some kind of tune

when he’s nervous he bites his lips

runs so so hot! like is a natural heater and is constantly warm so he prefers winter over summer

also packs on some weight during the winter like a bear getting ready to hibernate (he hates it, you LOVE IT)

i feel like he LOVES to swim

book smart not so much street smarts

is terrified of insects, specifically wasps (isn’t allergic he just thinks they’re the spawn of satan)

secretly dislikes most sweets. he doesn’t mind them but he wouldn’t reach for sweets over salty snacks if they’re offered

oh he looooooves spicy food!

pet name king. loves calling you everything but your name. especially enjoys calling you “baby” or “babe”

physical touch is 100% his love language!! keeps his hands on your waist or your back he just enjoys touching so much

clingy

clean and perfect handwriting

he’s also either a really good cook or a really bad one i can’t decide jshsjsjd

when he has a bad day he droops like a little rain cloud but is so easy to cheer up

has two left feet and dances for shit (does it anyway because he enjoys it)

is a whole ray of sunshine; laughs with his whole chest, smiles just as bright as the sun, always looking on the bright side of things

[—NSFW BELOW]

obedient asf!!

literally loves being told what to do and how good he makes you feel

is the definition of service top

THRIVES OFF PRAISE!

stamina goes CRAZY, takes some pretty good build up before he comes

100% is a munch

he loves coming home, shutting off his brain from being at the lab for too long, and sitting between your thighs while he makes you feel good

begs for you to sit on his face

begs in general all day every day for it though

“pleaseee pretty… let’s just sneak away…”

says please so much it’s incorporated in his everyday vocabulary

loves kissing too

wild rutting thrusts, fast and rough reaching the deepest parts of you with ease

list of kinks i think he would have; public outings, bareback, begging (receiving or giving), marking (hickies), püssy/cöck worshipping, size kink, breeding, exhibitionism, face sitting/fucking, somno (w/consent!), and sqüirtïng

is huge and he knows it

thick at the base, keeps his girth until the very tip, where he’s a light brownish-pink. veiny and girthy; 7.5 inches

VIKTOR

rarely EVER sleeps (at most he sleeps for prob 5 ish hours every night) but when he does it’s never in an actual bed; says sleeping anywhere else is more comfortable than a bed

a light sleeper for sure, he def wakes up at every little noise and it drives him nuts

is NOT a morning person. he wakes up groggy and irritated before he morning coffee

always asks for “five more minutes” when he needs to get up

either he sleeps in the clothes he wore the day before or when he actually changes he wears a t-shirt and swaps between shorts or actual sleep pants

sometimes needs to be reminded to eat because he gets so focused on working in the lab he forgets to eat a lot

is actually a decent cook! can make basic and simple dishes but nothing extraordinary

drinks very rarely and when he does it takes him chugging liquor to get drunk

messy but pretty handwriting (only he can read it)

a blanket HOG! he has to be fully wrapped up in at least 2 blankets before he can get comfortable enough to sleep

always runs cold and favors summer over winter!

it just gives you a nice excuse to hold his hand out in public

will drop something on purpose just so he can bend over and struggle to pick it up then act like you’re being mean to him jshshfk

will hit you with his cane if you ask him a stupid question

has the BIGGEST SWEET TOOTH

secretly snuck candy whenever he could growing up so now he constantly has it on him

says it helps him focus if he has a little bit of sugar

is actually packed full with sarcasm and makes so many sarcastic comments throughout the day

doodles when he’s trying to figure out an equation

his pet names for you consist more of “my love” or “darling”

his love language is quality time and gift giving (while he HATES receiving gifts)

writes you notes and leaves them around everywhere for you to accidentally stumble across and see

if you manage to get him to accept a gift, he uses/takes it everywhere with him

[—NSFW BELOW]

is a power bottom!

loves it when you dress up for him

SENSITIVE KING

oh he’s so sensitive, especially around his thighs

comes so so so easily (but can go several times in a row)

like a little handjob and some kissing could have him weak in the palm of your hand

well placed, slow, and methodical thrusts. never misses and it always leaves you breathless.

after a really good night spent together is about the only time he’ll ever sleep comfortably in a bed (next to you of course)

would try ANYTHING once

is not shy when it comes to telling you when he wants to fuck

will grab you by the waist with his cane and pull you closer to him just to tell you he wants you sitting in his lap right now

gives me a lil bit of a brat vibes

“why don’t you try asking nicely darling.”

list of kïnks i think he would be into: dacryphilia, edging, overstimulation, choking, blindfolds, biting/marking, degradation/praise, püssy/cöck worshipping, oral, cüm play, roleplay (secretly loves professor/teacher stuff)

not as thick as jayce but he makes up for it with length, pale until the tip where he’s a pretty pink. slightly curved upwards, 6 inches

[occamstfs]

Change Your Tune: Alvaro

Calvin and Eric are thrilled to visit the CYT Music Festival to see their favorite band reunite. After losing each other in the crowd, Calvin's mysteriously drawn to a Latin artist he's never heard of. With each step closer it’s clear there's no turning back.

An exciting collab with Misc TFs! Check out Eric's journey towards country music fandom Here ! For my part, hope you enjoy my first RC/cultural change in a while! Tossed a brief punk TF in this bad boy too ;) Hasta luego! -Occam

One could not ask for a better day to visit a music festival. Calvin isn’t exactly the type of person to attend something as hectic and high-traffic as the Change Your Tune Festival, but when his friend, Eric, heard that North Side was reuniting he knew they had to go. It had been their favorite band back in high school and there was no way they’d miss this one-time reunion performance.

Neither man was quite expecting just how massive the event would be however. They were so focused on their once-favorite band’s reunion that they paid little attention at all to the other artists taking part and were shocked to find out how eclectic the lineup was. From dozens of disparate sections it seems about any genre under the sun could be found. It was a wonder the fairground even had space for all these main stages. 

For a second Calvin is lost as he stares out across the sea of bodies, melodies from every set apart stage demanding his attention. Metal screams, EDM pulses, and R&B beats clash in the air, leaving Calvin wondering what a bizarre experience they’re going to endure until North Side’s set is set to start. Not as enthralled by the din of contrasting music, Eric bumps Calvin’s arm and shouts to be heard over the crowd, “You wanna head to North Side’s stage right now and sit through whatever’s there to make sure we get in the pit?”

Calvin nods and the pair take their first steps into the fairground proper before realizing they have no idea which stage North Side is actually set to perform at. Cogs turning in their minds, both men decide on different courses of action to find it. Nerves at missing the band superseding common sense, they head off in different directions in search of answers. Calvin wanders over to a map while Eric sees a crowd of festival-goers clearly dressed for North Side and approaches.

Only when he makes it to the map standee does he turn around to see if Eric’s still with him. Calvin finds nothing but the crowd. “Shit.” Looking from cowboy hats to mohawks he adds finding his friend to the to do list before turning to easily find the stage on the map. Mystery one solved with more than enough time to spare, he then sets to finding Eric.Checking his phone he finds that his phone has absolutely no service from the sheer volume of people at the festival.

Gritting his teeth he guesses he’ll just find Eric the old fashioned way and wades into the crowd. Assuming they went in completely opposite directions he feels confident that he can stumble across his friend fairly easily, and if not he’s sure they’ll bump into each other in the crowd for North Side. There’s certainly no real danger here as there seems to be a surplus of security wandering around, he thinks about asking one of the burly men if they could help find Eric though he promptly reconsiders as the sheer presence of the men spooks him away.

No he’ll just brute force it. Worming his way through the crowd, he notices that as he nears one of the stages that the crowds are far more homogenous than in the thoroughfares, perhaps unsurprising given fans are likely to congregate near their chosen bands, but something about it seems odd. Given the CYT Festival’s whole multi-genre vibe you’d think there would be some crossover. Thinking on that matter for a few moments as he pauses his search he realizes that he’s overthinking as immediately in front of him there’s a punk who seems to be quite taken with some real squeaky-clean indie pop.

Calvin almost laughs seeing the man’s liberty spikes sticking out above the crowd of bleached lengthy shags and shoddy perms. Swaying with the crowd, Calvin pauses to appreciate the idea of finding something you enjoy where you’d never expect it. Suddenly he’s bumped from behind by another presumed punk, far more nervous than his smiling cohort enjoying the sanitized tunes. The leather jacketed man clutches Calvin’s shoulders, “Hey! You- Have you seen my friend?” 

At first Calvin stares at him with a dumb look knowing how easy it is to see the punk in the crowd, “Sure dude? He’s right over, uhm?” Upon turning back to point, Calvin hesitates as he sees where the liberty spikes were once held high is an inconspicuous brown flop of hair, bobbing to the music. Stumbling over his words he turns back to the man who has now let go of his arms where he sees something even stranger. The man who was seconds ago possessed with anxiety at losing his friend is staring blankly ahead, Calvin would’ve sworn his shaky eyes were brown. 

Put off by the strange punk, Calvin awkwardly smiles and walks away, unaware as the man’s leather jacket shifts into a half-opened beachy button up as its sleeves fall off. Exposed to the open air his thin body begins packing on weight as his mohawk droops before cascading down his shoulders into a breezy curtain, as unassuming as every other aspect of his new personality.

 Uncomfortable in the strange crowd of this droll artist, Calvin spills back into the walkway and hopes Eric did not have the misfortune of talking with those bleary eyed, must-be stoned pop fans. Fingers crossed his friend is at the next venue, Calvin begins to scan the flow of festival goers once more before he’s distracted by a song he’s never heard calling for him over the throng, wholly demanding his attention.

Everything in the world suddenly feels muted besides this far off melody. His waking mind attempts to steer him back on track, to try and get him to return to the task of finding Eric so they can get to their concert, but suddenly that seems a distraction from discovering whatever delightful melody is pulling at him. He stumbles forward, the crowd almost totally parting to allow him to drift onward. In no time at all he finds himself outside the stage for some Reggaeton artist, Alvaro Altuve.

The young man shakes off the surreal pull the music has on him as he realizes he has never heard of the artist. While not the most worldly man, Calvin is incredibly online and prides himself on having at least a passing knowledge of just about anything he can scroll across. 

On top of that, he has friends who are absolutely into the genre and yet he’s somehow never even seen the name before. Clearly everyone around him has] as a large swath of the crowd behind him begins filing towards his stage. All the while, as Calvin continues to wonder how he’s not heard of this man, even pulling out his phone to frustratingly fail to search him, does his music continue to worm its way into and through his head.

Eventually he’s accidentally pushed by the surge of apparent Alvaro fans and stumbles with them, closer to the stage. Irritated at being manhandled, Calvin huffs to himself before letting curiosity get the better of him and opts to go with the flow. Arriving, he finds the stage empty, the Alvaro in question apparently isn’t set to take the stage for about half an hour, and yet the crowd is ecstatic for the instrumental recording blaring from the stage. Calvin tells himself he doesn’t get the hype, he tells himself he isn’t really enjoying the beat pumping through him. And yet-

He dances, he slams and grinds into the people nearby, he is moving like he never has done before. With speed and strength he shouldn’t be able to summon. Seconds lost to the unsung melodies trail into minutes as he experiences ecstasy from the looping track of an artist he doesn’t know a single thing about. The only thing breaking him out of the ecstasy is when he realizes the tunes begin to feel familiar. When he finally notices that his mind is slowly adding the lyrics. Starting like the buzz of a mosquito, soon enough his mind fills in lyrics in a language he can scarcely understand.

As real as the beats bumping in his chest, Calvir’s mind begins to ache as líricas begin to flow freely through him. He has to concentrate to still his lips from mouthing along. Words that fit perfectly with the ebb and flow, with the drumming pumping bass that lights his chest on fire. His vision flickers with the beat as he clutches at his chest, worried he’s experiencing some form of psychosis. There he finds that it’s not in his mind, something has begun to change. His outfit is entirely different.

Calvir feels bare sweaty skin where his flannel once hung, where it should still be. His hands grasp at a chest like they’ve never been able to before, bouncing with the increasingly familiar beats his body has begun to grow and new pecs are not left out. He feels the scratch of curls pricking against his palm as he tries to tune out his mind’s automatic addition of lyrics.

His mind returns to the two punks he saw not long ago, pupils flickering to the crowd around him; he can’t help but recall how concern left the man’s eyes as he too began to listen to that swill. Looking back he remembers an eyebrow piercing falling away as notched eyebrows filled in. How he could see the man's hair begin to restyle itself. Looking down at his own new chest he sees how around each of the new hairs lancing out of his heavier chest his skin almost looks patchy. As if it were splattered with a light brown paint.

Empowered by a new rising fear, Calvir fights back and begins to push his way out of the crowd. Gritting his teeth he’s unaware that his face has begun its own metamorphosis. His paltry blonde excuse for facial hair that has long been cut back to hide his inability to truly grow a beard returns with a vengeance. His upper lip twitches as the few thin hairs decorating it begin to lengthen, darken, and multiply. With each ambling step towards the edge of the crowd a new mustache thickens before it is similarly joined by a small goatee poking out of his chin. 

In no time at all his jaw and mouth are decorated with a facial hair combo that he has long admired. Wiping sweat from his face he feels them scratch against his arm and is stunned as he realizes he has continued to change even after blocking out the music that had him in its grasp. Looking at his arms it’s clear that the changes haven’t slowed in the slightest. 

The patchy spots of tanned skin have continued to expand, his arms too are similarly being enveloped as they join his chest in bulking larger. His hands shake as he sees veins trailing down biceps bulging heavy with muscle, he feels sweat drip down the side of his chest as his garden of pit hair spreads and thickens into an onyx dark jungle of curls.

Finally escaping the horde of Alvaro fans, Calvar stumbles over the barrier and stands to his feet. Grasping at the flimsy barricade he takes stock of his changed body, how muscle moves under his tight brown skin with the slightest movement. He rubs a scratch on his waist from the fall and feels his rough pubes crest into a treasure trail launching upwards towards his powerful chest. He doesn’t need to see his reflection to know his hair has likewise changed. 

“Qwhat es-” Calvar clutches at his thicker throat as he hears a deeper voice rumble from his chest. Eyes wide with fear, he tries again, hoping against anything that it was a fluke, a frog in his throat, “No, I’m not- No soy-” His eyes flicker across the crowd to find that, just like himself, they have begun to change. Their clothes and bodies continue to morph into whatever the music commands, the perfect audience for Alvaro Altuve to perform for. 

Something in Calvar’s chest flutters as the idea is more than alluring to him. He feels himself longing to give into the music once more as it rises in volume. Beyond that, he feels a burning desire to perform. When his subconscious begins to populate the beat with words once more his mouth can’t help but vocalize. It just feels right. He feels a burning urge to move, not the aimless ecstatic ambling dance of a fan however. No, he feels choreography ingrained into his bones yearning to burst free. 

Calvaro can scarcely stop himself as his legs and arms move to enact it. With an iron grip still on the stage’s barricade however he manages to stay strong. “I have- Teng- ohhh” Tanned hands fly to his face as in his mind the line between languages blurs, while still fluent in English quickly his native tongue is usurped, replaced by español.

As each thought twists and alters into his new tongue, so too does the content begin to shift. Fingers scratch down his face as his hands fall in confusion, rushing past thick dark eyebrows before rubbing a jaw sharper and increasingly covered by stubble as his goatee expands to cover his whole face rapidly connecting with sideburns inching down from his newly black hair.

“¿Tenía que- I had to find? Encontrarlo?” Try as he might, as the hair on his chest thickens and expands to cover his built chest, glistening under the sun. Blearily looking around as he tries to remember who or what he was looking for as his back cracks taller, Calvaro is distracted by the swell of the crowd. He feels the bass of the speakers bumping through their bodies, pulsing through his skill. Pushing its way to the front of his mind as his figure continues filling out is the realization that they are all cheering for him. They are all waiting for him.

His lips twist into a smile and he whispers to himself in his sultry, rough new voice, “para mí…” Suddenly members of the crowd begin pointing in his direction and their shouts begin to rise even higher. Alavarooo- Clicking his tongue his shy smile turns into a smirk as he watches the fans, his adoring fans lose their minds at nothing more than his sheer presence. 

Using his wide hand, he sensually rubs down the whole of his body with a wink and watches them shudder. Suddenly feeling a bulky mic in his back pocket, Alvaro knows what he must do. Memories of Eric totally fall to the wayside, buried deep alongside every other memory of being Calvin Dalton. No. There’s only one reason he’s here, and that’s to give his fans the performance de sus vidas.

He sprints alongside the barrier running to the stage, longer legs carrying his star-powered self to the stage. He shouts into the microphone and even then it’s difficult to be heard over the adoring cheers of the crowd, “Ayay- ¿Todos listos, mis all stars?” the little pet name is accented, as all his English is despite his fluency, though he knows that only makes him all the more alluring to his audience estadounidense. 

And with that he stands on stage, allowing the cheering of the crowd propel him into his final form, who he is, who he has always been. Suddenly joined by his banda and a crew of dancers, Alvaro Altuve begins his performance. With each new song his identity is sealed. With each flex and provocative, thrusting move the crowds wail and fuel his transformation even more. Even his time at the festival this very day is wiped away, replaced by warming up in his dressing room, flirting with other performers at this festival to end all festivals.

On the way to this very performance he passed some American band arguing. Dressed in some early 2000’s get up, something at the edge of his mind cried out to go get an autograph but he couldn’t say what. Why would he after all, he’s not in any state to ask for an autograph from some emos gringos. He’s Alvaro Altuve, and he’s got a show to put on.

Epilogue written with Misc TFs:

Rick sighed as he walked up to the bar, quickly ordering another shot of whisky and a beer. He glanced over at the group of good ol’ boys he’d been shooting the shit with all night - Jeb, Cletus, and Earl. They were all decked out in checkered shirts, faded jeans, and ball caps. Just like him now. It still felt so natural, even if some part of him couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly seemed…off about the whole situation.

“Why do I feel like I’m just actin’ a part?" he wondered to himself, frowning slightly, "Like I’m wearing someone else’s skin." 

Shaking his head, he tried to push the strange thoughts aside. Where were these thoughts coming from? Where else would he want to be? He was just a good ol’ boy enjoying a cold one with the boys after a kick-ass country concert. His thoughts were interrupted as a new song started playing in the bar. Rick knew this song… knew this band… a small smile gracing his lips.

"North Side.” He muttered, his foot tapping to the beat of the music, “Well I’ll be…”

He felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him- a yearning for something he couldn’t quite understand in his slower mind. And as the music continued to strum at some past memory, the redneck couldn’t help but notice the striking Latino man with soulful eyes and a captivating smile, clearly enjoying the song as much as he was. 

“Well, would ya look at that." Rick muttered under his breath, "Seems like that fella’s got good taste in tunes, at least.”

Compelled by a force he couldn’t explain, Rick walked over to the man. His thoughts, once focused on music, instead shifted as he drank in the sight of the handsome Latino. The way he smiled, the way his dark hair was styled, the way his shirt hugged his muscles. Rick felt his dick stir.

“Howdy there, friend," Rick drawled, tipping his hat politely, "Name’s Rick. Can’t help but notice you seem mighty fond of this here tune, same as me.”

Alvaro looks up at the man, “Buenas noches. The name’s Alvaro.”

Rick’s eyes flash with recognition, “You mean the Alvaro? Like Alvaro Altuve? I reckon I recognized you from somewhere!”

Alvaro grinned, “Always happy to meet a fan.”

Rick paused for a second, captivated by the singer’s smile. The two stared at one another before Alvaro beckoned him to take a seat at the bar. Rick happily accepted the two chatting it up, their conversation flowing naturally- like two old friends. Their knowledge about North Side and their interest in the band not fitting with their outward appearance.

“I would’ve never expected you to like North Side.” Alvaro laughed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He chuckled, throwing an arm around the man’s shoulder. They both blushed at the mere touch, and Rick pulled his arm away, “Well, I reckon I was always a fan, I think.” Rick shrugged and Alvaro grinned.

“Makes sense! You were the one who introduced me to them after all.” Those words hung in the air, the two became silent and stared at one another- their expressions shifting, their eyes conveying a faint recognition.

Rick, Alvaro knows Rick. He doesn’t know how he does but something deep within him pangs with familiarity or deja vu. Judging by the expression on the cowboy’s face it seems as if there’s some pang of memory behind his eyes as well. Alvaro stares at the fan wondering if he just saw the man at his concert or something but knows that dressed like he is, that cannot be the case, and then he sees his lips struggle to say, “C- Calv- Calvin?”

At once both men flash back. They were having lunch together, as they have done countless times throughout the years. Eric sees his friend who could scarcely put two Spanish words together, Calvin sees his bestie that would never be caught dead in a cowboy hat. They’re just talking shit as friends do when Eric gasps at a notification on his phone, “Dude- North Side is back!”

Before they left the table, the pair had bought tickets to the CYT festival and had begun planning what they were going to wear. Not for a moment wondering what else they’d care to see at the festival, why should they? They were going to see their favorite band of all time and they were going to do so together. 

Together. 

Back in the present as they look at each other in their new forms. Alvaro sees the sweaty, hairy chest of the good old southern man in front of him. Rick sees the effortlessly alluring manicured body of a latin rock star staring back at him. Together has a different spot in both their minds as they hear a grindr notification go off somewhere in the distance. Might as well see what their new bodies can do.

As quick as their feet can travel they’re in Alvaro’s trailer. Attempts to trawl out memories from who they were are fruitless or painful, so instead they delight in the present. The artist cannot believe how enticed he is by the smell of cheap whiskey and cheaper beer on the man’s breath. Rick is less discerning as he hungrily delights in the sweaty musk of the man who was on stage not all that long ago. 

Rick’s rough beard scratches against Alvaro’s neck as he takes a deep breath, he hears a deep whisper from the performer, “volve loco, vaquero.” He growls and his arms shake as he sees no reason to not obey man. Music playing in the background rapidly shifts from Alvaro’s own album, to the b-sides of the Blue Sky Dreamers, to the music that brought them into these new lives, North Side. Before fading altogether and leaving them alone with the sound of their bodies.

With each passing moment in the heady enjoyment of their new selves they feel their identities cemented. Rick’s clean-pressed closet wiped away for life on a farm, his pen-pushing 9-to-5 is nothing compared to the outdoor lifestyle he far prefers. Alvaro’s whole country of origin irrevocably changed, while he loves the life he’s found in the states they will never be where he’s from.

With each thrust they bury their past lives. Rick is and always has been a rough and tumble, rugged man. The rockstar life may be new to Alvaro, but he has always been a musician, even when he was just a small-town artist playing in cantinas. Despite their pasts being erased and their new lives becoming the only reality they know, they remain together. 

Sweatily making out in a trailer as Alvaro struggles to stop the cowboy from leaving cum stains on his stage outfit, when they are together something just feels right. While everything in the world around them may point otherwise, when they are in each other’s arms, everything just seems to make more sense. Even after they’re done having their fun, something remains between them, pulling them together. 

Sheepishly eying the cowboy as he pulls up his Levi’s, Alvaro doesn’t want to let him go, “Oi, vaquero?” The cowboy looks up thankfully, he’d never say as much but even life on the ranch doesn’t hold a match to the past hour with Alvaro, “Queiro- Do you wanna have lunch?” 

“Thought chu’d never ask-”

Neither would’ve guessed what their relationship would evolve into. Initially, it was the talk of the town. The Latin heartthrob and the rough-and-tumble country boy seemed like a totally unlikely couple. Some called it a publicity stunt, others whispered that it would never last. But through it all, Alvaro and Rick stood strong, their bond growing deeper with each passing day.

Alvaro strummed a guitar softly, while Rick leaned back in his chair, a contented smile on his face. The radio playing softly in the background- the familiar beat of North Side’s music playing.

“Ya know," Rick said, breaking the comfortable silence, "I still can’t believe we went from two strangers at a bar to…”

“To this," Alvaro finished, setting down his guitar and taking Rick’s hand in his own, "And I wouldn’t have it any other way, mi amor.”

The two held each other closely, while North Side continued to play in the background.

Find Eric’s side of the story here !

[fashionteahouse]

i wonder - edward cullen x reader

<<prev >>next

As you tossed and turned you thought you were going crazy.

It was normal to think of someone, but you’ve never experienced someone taking up your entire mind.

You hadn’t touched your keyboard. You only stared at it. You haven’t played since your fingers knew what the Cullen’s grand piano had felt like. You look down at your fingers before closing them into fists. You wonder how much things had changed.

Walking outside, bundled up, you slightly jump from the sight of Edward, once again leaning against his car.

Waiting for you.

“Oh! Hello.” your parent greets beside you.

“Hello. Do you mind if I take Y/N to school today?” he asks politely. You watch the scene unfold without saying anything.

“I don’t mind.” they reply as they look at you, look at him.

“Are you ready?” Edward takes his eye contact and puts it in your direction. You just nod.

Your parent tells you they will see you later before adding, “Young man you shouldn’t stand outside in the cold like that. You will get sick.”

“I have a very strong immune system.” he says with a grin and your parent does nothing but shake their head and mutter, “You kids.”

Edward opened and closed your passenger door for you.

You silently just hold your hands to the hot air that flowed out of the vents. He didn’t say anything either.

You slowly would take looks from the corner of your eye before watching the snowy road in front of you.

No words were said, but he still walked you to your locker to put your coat away.

You tried very hard to focus. You looked down on your eraser covered quiz that the teacher had issued. You sigh to yourself as you brushed the eraser crumbs away.

Lab day.

You looked next to you, your lab partner was absent.

“Y/N?”

You look up to your teacher after you had collected the necessary materials for the day’s lab.

“Yes?”

“Your partner isn’t here. Do you want to work by yourself or do you want to join a group? It’s up to you.”

“Um…” you say and slowly take in your options. Other partners started to already get to work, the small chatter swirled in the science environment.

“By myself.” you say.

“Okay.” they reply with a soft touch to your shoulder and walk to another group, checking up on what they’re doing.

You write your name on the worksheet.

“Can we work together?” you hear and you immediately look up.

Edward’s eyes weren’t shy as he peered down at you.

“S-sure.” you say. You watch his body move to sit in the spot your partner usually sits in.

He then takes control, doing most of the work as he lowly tells you the answers.

“I could’ve helped. I’m not entirely useless.” you whispered as the teacher told a group to stop goofing off.

A small chuckle comes out and he says, “I know. I just want to get done faster.”

“What’s the rush?”

He shrugged before looking at you and you look down.

“Is something wrong?”

You shake your head.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing..Am I..Acting like something’s wrong?” you ask as you write down the answers that he pushed in your direction.

“It’s just…You aren’t your talkative self.”

You just nod silently.

“I have a lot on my mind.” you say.

“What is it?” he immediately asks.

“Nonsense. Things that aren’t really all that important.” you brush off.

“I have a lot on my mind as well.” he says after you both looked at the scale and write down the ounces.

“What is it?” you ask.

He sighed softly, only a bit before looking at you with a soft grin, “Why did you really stop playing yesterday?”

You sit back in your chair a bit, “Because..” you say with a shrug, “I wasn’t trying to make it seem like I was a show off or anything.”

“That was your moment to be a show off.”

“Well..It’s over now.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

You look at him in question just as the bell for the first half of class ending, rings.

As students went to their lockers and used the bathrooms, you and Edward stayed seated at the lab table.

“What are you doing after school?”

“I have a piano lesson today.” you tell him.

It seemed as though Edward tried to think of something else to say.

“After that?”

“Going home…” you say with a slight shrug.

The class resumed after the small break. The teacher closed the door back.

“Are..Are we finished?” you ask as Edward takes both of your completed worksheets in his hand.

He nods and placed the sheets in the bin. The teacher grins a bit and goes back to typing on their open laptop.

You then pull out homework.

“Where did you move from?”

You tell him.

“That’s not far…” he mused and you nod.

“Has it always been one parent?”

“Divorce.” you answer in a small voice as you fly through the homework. You just did not feel like doing it later.

“Where are you going to college?”

You pause your writing and look up at him with a pitiful expression. He’s amused by this.

“I really don’t want to talk about all of that right now.”

You’ve heard enough of it at home.

“May I ask why?” he asks.

“It’s just..Not my priority right now, alright? I…” you say and look down to the pencil that’s clutched in your hand, “I don’t even know what I’m going to major in, let alone choose a school.”

“Music.” he says as if it’s very obvious.

“I’m afraid it’s not a safe career option.” you say.

His eyebrows furrowed a bit, “Why isn’t it?”

“I guess my lovely parent has nightmares of me being a homeless but talented musician.” you mutter. This makes him laugh a bit.

Walking side by side in the halls, he stops before the cafeteria is in view.

“Skip your lesson.”

You whip around at him as if he was crazy. He just plainly stared at you.

“Why on Earth would you ask me to do that?” you ask.

“We can work on your song for your competition recording.”

“That’s why I going to my lessons.” you say and nudge his arm.

“I can teach you superb notes to play. Something that isn’t repetitive.” he insisted.

“You don’t even know the song I’m playing.” you say.

The people you sit with at lunch walks past, questions that you know you will have to answer to at the table, is painted on their faces.

“Tell me.”

You tell him.

He shakes his head slightly, showing disapprovement.

“Come on..That’s elementary for your skill level.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m not skipping my lesson. Plus, I don’t want to get trouble when I’m supposed to be there and I don’t show up because I was getting my own special lesson from you.” you say and you walk away at that.

They did ask what you two were talking about.

“We had to work together in science today. It’s nothing.” you wave off.

A new chapter was taught in history. In the dark room that was lit up from the teacher’s screen, showing what needed to be wrote down, the class took notes. Jasper was back in his seat in the back of the class.

You slid your coat on and watched as Edward stood in front of you. He did something that surprised you.

He extends his arms and zips your coat up for you. You blinked.

“Thanks.”

He only nods.

“Here to convince me?” you poke at him.

“It seems you have your mind made up.” he says.

He tells you goodbye as you walk to the car that your parent was in.

As they drive, you notice that you’re going in the direction of your home, not to the place where the lesson was held.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“We have to talk.” they tell you.

“Okay..”

“I feel like we should pull back from lessons-“

“What?”

“Y/N, sit back.” they say as they take a glance at you.

“No.” you say. They give you a look. You sit back.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me?” you ask desperately.

“You need to be more focused on what you’re going to do with your life.”

You cross your arms as you felt like you were going to cry.

“I know what I’m going to do with my life…Just please don’t take this away from me. Please!” you beg.

“What are you majoring in?” they ask as you both come to a stop at a red light.

You didn’t have an answer. You couldn’t blurt out an answer because they will hold you to it.

“See? Maybe this summer we can put you back in but for right now-“

“This summer?! That’s like…” you quickly count on your fingers, “Five months from now! What am I going to do until then?”

“Study. Really get down into what you are going to go to school for. If you’re going in my profession, I can start pulling some strings now but otherwise, get some letters of recommendations ready so you’re not scrambling all around last minute. Then, we gotta start doing tours of schools. There’s a lot to be done Y/N and now’s the time to start getting prepared. You can always tinker around with your piano once your business is taken care of.”

You slump back in your seat and let the rest of the lecture go in one ear and out the other. It was completely unfair.

You press down on your keyboard sadly as you couldn’t think of giving it up.

You barely spoke in the morning as you got dropped off at school. Your parent still wished you a good day. You were planning to have the most terrible day.

“How was your lesson?” Edward asks as you shoved your belongings in the locker and slam it shut.

“No more lessons until the summer. Yay me.” you say and storm off. He keeps up.

“Why?”

“Because.” you huff out angrily, “Because..Apparently it’s only pleasure and not at all business.”

“I’m sorry..” he says.

You give him a quizzical look, “Why are you apologizing?”

He opens and closes his mouth and opens it again, “It’s unfortunate..”

You nod and start to go inside of the classroom but his hand touches the hand that was at your side. You look at him.

“We can practice after school.”

You shake your head.

“Nah..”

“Why not? Isn’t that what you want?” he asks.

“It is but…You’ve done enough as it is.” you tell him.

You felt his eyes watch as you walk to your seat and sit down.

Quizzes were passed back. You read the score.

“6/10”

Your teacher leans down to quietly speak to you, “I know you can do better than that.”

You nod.

Your acting skills were then put to the test when your lab partner gushed to you about why they missed the day before. A college tour.

The teacher walks in and everybody has a seat and new notes on the new lesson were taken.

Edward walked to the spot you two always sit, in the back of the library but you walked in another direction.

You needed time to think. You sat by yourself as you stuck your headphones in and listened to music quietly.

You felt a hand touch your shoulder.

Taking them out, you look up to find Edward.

“Study hall is over.”

You rise and he actually waits as you gather your things.

“Kind of sucks you are a year below me. You have more time to figure things out, if you haven’t already.” you say. A small grin appears on his face, “What makes you think I might have things figured out?”

You take a quick look at him as you both walk in the halls, “You just look it.”

“Look it?”

“Yeah. Like…You have yourself together.”

“Like I have myself together.” he mused.

“Correct.”

“What else do I look like?”

You chuckle a bit, “You just…I don’t know you just seem mature. Especially for your age.”

“I’m mature for my age?”

“Are you just gonna repeat everything I say?” you ask with a smile.

“Maybe..” he says and the brunette that you have seen around, looks in both of your direction. She prolongs her eye contact before books slide out of her hands.

You watch as a boy eagerly picks them up. You look to see that Edward was watching the scene unfold right with you.

You then continue walking.

“She’s not my friend.”

That’s what played in your head. You don’t know why it stuck out to you but it kept replaying as you ate your lunch.

“I wonder if he’s lying.” you thought in your head but you then wondered why you even cared if he was or not. It’s not like you liked him or anything. You just thought he had a good looking face.

“Is Edward Cullen dating Bella Swan?” you couldn’t help but blurt out at the table.

A girl next to you looks at you with a snigger, “As if. I’m surprised a Cullen is even talking to you.”

“Why?” you ask.

“They talk to no one. They would be freaks if they were ugly. That’s what makes them so interesting. Rich, smart, good looking, good family, but they never talked to anyone here.”

“Edward talked to Bella.” you point out.

“Yeah for like a second. Then, it went back to him being to himself.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She almost got crushed by some van and apparently he was there beside her when it happened.”

So, that’s why they were both at the hospital. That’s why the nurses commented on it being hectic that day.

“Huh.” you replied in thought.

“Yup. Some kid named Tyler who couldn’t control his own van. The van was skidding down ice and everything. She’s so lucky she didn’t get crushed. The paramedics came and everything.”

“Wow. I came right after all of the excitement.” you comment and laughs circled around the table.

You felt a nudge after you walked out of the cafeteria.

You look and display a grin.

“Hey, Alice.”

“Hey, you.” she says and she’s skipping at your side, linking her arm with yours.

“Wanna come over after school?”

You sigh a bit, “I really wish I could. I got a lot of work to do.”

“You do? It was a pretty relaxed day, at least for me.” she says.

It felt like she caught you in a lie.

“It-Its not homework. Honestly..Can I be honest?” you ask. She nods as she encouraged you. You wanted to say what was on your mind but you couldn’t form the words. You opted for something else instead.

“I don’t think I can come over today. I have to start researching for schools. I don’t feel like hearing another lecture.” you say in a tone that screamed pity.

She smiles a bit, “Why don’t we do so together? I might need ideas.”

“Darn you.” you say with a slight point, “Why do you have to have an answer for anything?”

She laughs as Jasper says hello to you. You both walk into the classroom together after you greet him back.

In your last class of the day, you let your parent know that you won’t be needing a ride home.

Edward was there when you came out of the classroom. You nod a greeting.

“Alice told me you’re coming over.” he says as you both walk to your locker.

“Yeah.”

“What changed your mind?”

You open your locker and don’t say anything.

“She asked me. We are researching schools together.”

He snorts. You look at him.

“Alice had her school picked out since forever.”

“So she lied?” you deadpanned.

“I wouldn’t say she lied. You said you wanted to research schools. She offered to do so together. She can still research schools with you even with her own picked out.”

You shrug on your coat and your coat is zipped up from him. He opens his hand. You look at it. You watch as it moves towards your backpack and he eventually holds it in his hand.

You place your hands in your pocket.

“You never wear one.” you observed.

He doesn’t say anything.

Sitting at the family computer, you were bored. You were more interested in Alice’s conversation than the descriptions of what a school was offering on the big screen.

“Fashion?”

She nods.

“You’re so lucky your parents are letting you major in that.” you say.

Her eyebrows furrowed a bit, “You have your music.”

“Yeah but..” you then shake your head, “Not to go get a degree for. I’ve been told, it’s pretty much useless.”

“Nonsense!” she says.

“Exactly.” you sigh out.

“She can’t take lessons anymore.” you hear Edward’s voice speaks out.

“What?!”

You giggle at her outburst.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” she says.

“You weren’t the one who took it away from me. I will be okay.” you say.

Jasper comes into the computer room, peeking his head in.

“Alice are you ready?”

“Coming.” she says and turns back to you and gives you a quick hug before following him out.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“We’re visiting a..Family member. Edward..Are you coming?”

You watch him shake his head.

“See you.” Alice says and grabs Jasper’s hand.

The room was silent and you scroll a bit before looking at Edward who was watching you.

“Why didn’t you go?” you ask.

“Didn’t want to.” he says. You nod and look back at the screen.

“You said you wanted to hear me play.” he says.

“Uh huh.” you say.

“Come on.” he says and you see that he’s leaving out. You exit out of the browser and follow him.

He pats the spot next to him on the bench. You sit as you concentrate on his fingers.

It was like an orgasm for your ears. Your eyes were stuck to his fingers. His fingers moved with such speed and precision. The music that produced from him and his piano was the most loveliest sound that your ears had ever heard.

When the song was over, he played around with some notes. It reminded you of a hotel lobby.

“I’m not ready at all.” you whisper.

“What?” he asks with a small chuckle.

“There’s definitely going to be people who play like that.”

“I doubt it.” he quietly but confidently says.

You don’t say anything and you press on the weighted key with one finger.

“Do you want me to teach you that song?” he asks.

You look at him with wide eyes.

“What song?” you ask. He chuckles again.

“The song I just played.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It is a competition. It’s about being the best.” he says.

You shrug a bit.

“When’s the deadline?”

“Next month.”

He nods, “Okay. That should give us enough time.”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“But you want to.”

You retract your hand from the keys.

“How did you get so good?” you question.

“Years and years of practice.”

“You…Not to give you a big head, but you play very good. Like, better than some composers I’ve heard.”

He smiles as he looked at the keys.

“You let me teach you, you’ll win. What’s the prize? Money? Scholarship? What?”

“Money but, I don’t really care about it. I just wanted to be able to have the experience of winning something like that…I want to be able to say, well hopefully say, ‘I won that.’” you admit. He doesn’t say anything but you can tell he soaked in your words. You look away from his gaze.

“You do that a lot.”

“Do what?” you ask and glide your finger across the keys one time.

“You don’t like looking at me.” he says.

You pause your movements.

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly.

“I mean that you don’t like looking at me. You look away from me all the time.”

You shrug, “I’ve never noticed.”

“You’re not even looking at me now.”

You breathe of a small laugh but you still don’t meet his eyes.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t like looking at you.”

“Do you like looking at me?”

“I don’t…Know.” you answer honestly.

“I like looking at you when I’m talking to you.”

You don’t say anything. You instead shift a bit in your bench. You slowly look to him and his expression is warm but he took in your face. His eyes moved about subtly as you both blinked at each other.

You look away with a small but breathy chuckle.

“You did it again.” he says.

“We didn’t talk.” you reply.

“We’re talking right now.”

“You’re intense..” you comment.

“Is that bad?”

“I don’t know.” you answer honestly.

He taught you the beginning part. He made you do it over and over and advised you to practice when you got home. It definitely was a challenge.

“Thank you teacher Edward.” you joke.

He zipped your coat up and smiled, “You’re a very good student.”

You walk out of his house and you look to him, “You zip my coat up but you never thought to zip yours up?”

“I’m not cold.”

“Edward, are you sick in the head or something?”

He laughs. Laughs as if it was a joke made by a comedian.

He opens the car door up and you sit in the car.

He drops you off and before you get out, “Can I pick you up tomorrow?”

Your backpack is in your lap and you say, “It’s fine. You and your siblings have been good to me. I won’t ask you to do too much.”

“It’s not too much on my part, Y/N.” he says and the look on his face was sincere. You just nod.

Over dinner, you had to explain yourself.

“We were studying.”

“Did you study for schools?”

You groan as you set your fork down.

“Yes. I did.”

“Okay. What school?”

“I want to major in music.”

Their own fork clatters as they look at you.

“Y/N. We are not having this talk again.”

“It’s my passion.” you say.

“I know that-“

“Do you? I don’t want to work a job where I’m unhappy.” you say as you poke at your food.

“I don’t think you should hang around that boy anymore.”

“Really?” you ask.

“It’s like you’re distracted.”

“How? My homework’s done, I’m doing what you’re asking, please don’t strip my entire life from me.”

They don’t say anything.

You worked your fingers with your keyboard with your headphones plugged in.

Newfound determination came out as you practiced.

So that’s how it went.

He would pick you up from school, walk you to your classes, you would look up in science as you worked with your lab partner and catch him staring, and he would walk you to his car after school.

You both worked together on the song he was teaching you. He was mature with his criticism. It felt like you were in an actual lesson and he was an actual teacher. He knew his stuff.

You felt yourself improve each day. Your time at the Cullens lengthened to the point, you wondered how come you never seen them eat dinner.

The sky was darkened, mostly due to the ending of daylight savings time and you sat quiet in the passenger seat.

“What’s wrong?”

You look to him focused on the road and you shake your head, “Nothing’s wrong.”

“You haven’t said anything since we left my house.” he says.

“Just…I’m just…Do you and your family eat?” you blurt out.

You watch as his lip curled up in amusement.

“Yes. We eat.”

“You guys must eat really late.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s your favorite food?” you ask.

“You wouldn’t like it…I’m a vegetarian.”

You eyed him but didn’t say anything else.

You reach for the door but he calls your name.

“Yeah?” you answer.

He’s hesitant, but he forces it out, “Next week, after we record your solo, can I take you to dinner?”’

“As…Friends?” you ask.

“Whatever you want.”

“I’ll think about it.” you say with a smile. He formed his own as he watched you walk inside your home.

It was surprising. You dreamed about playing the piano. You dreamed about playing the piano with Edward.

You yawned a little as you felt him put an arm around you as you both walked the halls.

“You didn’t get sleep?”

“Not really.” you say quietly and looked at his limp hand that was attached to the arm that was around you.

At lunch, the question was dropped like a bomb.

“Are you and Edward dating?”

“No. We’re just friends.” you say casually as you bit into your lunch.

Giggles circled and you furrowed your eyebrows, “What?”

It was a study hall day, you and Edward sat really close to each other in the back of the library.

“People are thinking we are dating.” you say with a straight face.

He slowly grinned.

“I heard that too.” he says.

“I don’t want you to think I’m trying to make our friendship weird. I really appreciate all that you’re doing for me. Same with Alice and everyone else.” you say.

“So, have you thought about what I asked you?” he asks and you look down from his eyes.

“Um..Not really. I’ve been too tired…To really think.” you say.

“If you don’t want to, just say no.” he says.

“When I say I don’t know, it means I’m not sure if I want to or not.”

“What makes you so unsure?”

You just stare at your hands.

“Why did you give me that song out of all songs?” you ask, changing the subject.

He notices but goes along with it, “It reminds me of you. It fits you.”

“Whatever that means.” you say with a slight chuckle.

“It’s true.” he answered.

The week went by fast. Too fast.

It was the weekend. He waited outside of your home as you got into his car on an early afternoon.

You aimed the camera at you as it stood up tall on the camera stand.

You wring your fingers a bit before looking at him. His hands are in his pockets as he looked at you.

“I’m..Kinda nervous. This never happened before.” you admit.

“Just pretend you’re in your room by yourself.”

You nod and walk to the piano.

He stands by, ready to hit record.

You roll your shoulder back before positioning yourself and gave him a slight nod to let him know that you were ready.

He gave you a small thumbs up and you play with determination.

You surprised yourself as you owned the keys on the grand piano. You were thankful that he let you use his. The weighted keys were pressed down as the musical sounds filled the room. Your eyes followed your fingers and you were focused. The nervousness that you felt earlier rolled off of you by each second.

When you were finished, you look up to see a small smile and a small clap.

“You hit it right on the nose.”

“Thanks.” you say as you scratch the back of your neck.

Nothing was said as you scooted off of the bench and walk to the camera that was currently in his hands.

“I thought about it.” you say. He meets your eyes.

“Thought about what?”

“We can…Sit down for dinner. Thank you for letting me use your piano.”

“I told you, you were free to use it.” he says but his smile didn’t fade as he broke down the camera stand.

You nod and sit on the sofa as you watch the video of you.

“Are you proud of yourself?” he asks.

A small smile formed, “Yes.”

The rest of the Cullens made conversation with you as you lounged in their home.

You found out that they had traveled to different cities. They had great stories to tell.

You noticed they all had the same eye color. Questions ran deep.

Edward reached and opened the door for you as you walk in.

“Table for two.” he holds up two fingers.

You stare at his glass of water, untouched.

“This smells really good.” you say as the waiter sets your plate down. “Are you sure you’re not ordering anything?” you ask.

“I’m okay. I ate a big breakfast.”

As you chewed slowly, you began to think.

You swallow.

“Edward…Do you…Have an eating disorder?” you ask quietly.

“No.” he says with a smile. A bit of relief forms in you but you’re still confused.

“I’ve been with you almost all day and not once have I seen you eat. Or your family.”

“We just…Have a special diet is all. But really, I’m okay. I ate right before I picked you up.”

You nod.

Valentine’s day rolled around. People walked the halls with small teddy bears and candy from their own relationships.

You open your locker with your coat in hand.

The teddy bear was as big as the space in your locker. You look to Edward. He looks to you.

“This from you?” you ask. He nods.

You hold it up with two hands. The smile stretched across your face.

You set it back in your locker. You hug him. He hugged you back.

“You shouldn’t have.” you say to him with a grin.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes. I love it. Thank you.” you say. Your eyes then look about and you see people are walking past and staring.

“Is there something on me?” you ask in a whisper. You don’t remember dropping toothpaste on your clothes that morning.

“No.” he says with a slight chuckle.

You close your locker after making sure the bear was safe.

“Then, why are people staring?” you ask in another whisper.

You both start to walk and he puts his hand around your back and places his hand on your arm to pull you close, “They’re just curious. You have nothing to worry about.”

A dance was coming up in May.

You had no plans of going. That’s all your lunch table talked about.

“It’s girls ask guys. Are you asking Edward?”

“No. I don’t even want to go.”

“What?!” the entire table asks.

You shrug.

“You’re just going to do nothing but sit in your room?”

“Whatever.” you say as you playfully roll your eyes.

“We have no lessons today.” you say as Edward wasn’t going in the direction of your home.

“I know.” he says. You sit back in your seat.

You sat next to him on his couch in your room after you both finished homework.

“You don’t have a bed?” you ask as you noticed something missing.

He looked around.

You looked around with him.

“Are you going to the dance?” he asks changing the subject.

You look to him and shake your head.

“Why not?” he genuinely asks. You shrug, “We’re just going to be seeing the same people that we see everyday but just in different clothes.”

He chuckles at that.

“It’s your high school experience.”

“If you want me to ask you, just say that.” you say with a grin.

The look that displayed on his face make your heart thump, making you almost retract your statement due to nervousness.

“I want you to ask me.”

“Do we…Go as friends?” you ask.

“We could.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

He gets up and holds out his hands.

You eyed him as you get up as well, placing your hands in his cool ones.

“Does it bother you that your hands are cold?” you ask.

He shakes his head, “I’m used to it.”

His thumbs brush the back of your hands that made you let out a small breath, you look up to him. He was looking down at your hands but slowly looks up into your eyes.

Soon, he keeps one of your hands in his and placed one of his hands on your back.

“What are you doing?” you ask as you grinned.

He twirled you as if you both had done this time and time again.

“We should practice.”

You both slow danced and you both were amused.

He gave you a hug when you were about to unlock your front door.

“You should get in your car. You will get sick.”

“I’ll be okay.” he says near your neck.

Weeks rolled by slowly. Your dreams were consisting of more and more of Edward. You seen him basically everyday. Even on weekends.

You sat up late in the night. Your heart thudded.

You dreamed that you both kissed. Your mind was distracted.

You stopped raising your hand in class. It was as if he infected your mind to only think of him.

The teachers took notice.

At lunch, your friends invite you to Port Angeles for clothes shopping for the dance.

As you waited for one friend to get out of the dressing room, you thought about changing your mind.

It was to the point where your heart started to race when you were near him. Even when you thought of him.

Your first acceptance letter that came in the mail made your parent let off of your back.

“See? This is a great school too.” they say with a pat on your back. You nod.

You received an email. Stating that you won. You blinked at it.

You gasp and run to your parent.

“I won!”

“Won what? A scholarship?” they ask.

“No. The piano competition. I won.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” they say.

“I’m getting a check in the mail soon.”

“Good. You can put it towards your schooling to get the things that you need.” they start to stay on that topic. You tuned them out.

You nervously pace as you clicked on his contact. One ring.

“Hello?”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” you just say.

“You’re welcome….What did I do?”

“I won.” you say with a smile. He congratulated you, telling you that he knew you had it in you.

“I’m not coming to school tomorrow.” he tells you.

“Oh. Why?”

“Family emergency. I’ll see you after though.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

It was like you were in a daze. The entire family did not show up. The teacher’s words morphed together. It was as if you were in a time warp.

You hugged the large teddy bear that he had given you when you got home. You didn’t know if you were going crazy but it freshly smelled like him. The bear rested right under your nose.

The weekend came and he calls you.

“I want to take you somewhere.”

“Okay.” you tell him.

The meadow was beautiful. You had to tell yourself to breathe. You felt his cool hand interlaced with yours and you let him tug you.

“How do you find something like this?” you ask.

“I like to explore.” he says quietly.

He pulled you to him as he took both of your hands. He looked down at you.

He brings you in closer with both arms around your shoulders, you look up to him.

“I have to tell you something.” he says quietly. You nod.

His gaze burns into yours, “I don’t want to go to the dance as friends.”

“That’s okay…I didn’t really want to go anyway.” you say. He chuckles softly before shaking his head. He then straighten out his facial expression.

“I still want to go with you. Together.” he confirmed.

“As in…?”

He only blinked as he peered down at you. You look away as you notice that you two were in a tight embrace.

The next day, he knocked on your door.

You let him in with a grin.

You both hug. You then take his hand and your parent allowed you to go with him and his family to play baseball.

“Isn’t it going to rain?” they ask him as Edward zipped your coat up.

“We’re trying to stick a game in before it does.” he answered. He takes your hand and you’re following him to his car.

In the clearing area, the sounds of thunder was from the sky.

Alice grins, “It’s time.”

You thought that you were dreaming. There was just no way an average person could leap that high or run that fast. You had no words. You were very impressed and entertained.

The soft drizzle of rain dropped down as Alice threw the ball with a fast whizz. You heard thunder but instead of quick flashes of lightening strikes, you look up in the sky and see Edward and Emmett slam into each other. They’re on the ground laughing.

Alice throws, Rosalie is at the plate and cracks the ball with the bat. Once again, the loud struck of thunder surrounds the field but you knew it came from them.

“Y-you’re out.” you tell Rosalie. She gets up and whispered, “You could’ve let me slide with that one.”

“Cheating! You’re out!” Emmett says with a joyous grin. She flashed him an annoyed look.

“It’s just a game, babe!” he says.

You shrug with a soft smile as you help her brush the dirt off of her pants.

Jasper steps to the plate next and flips his bat impressively. Alice throws the ball and Jasper hits it and you watch as her eyes suddenly grow big.

Alice yells a time out that captured everyone’s attention. Before you knew it, your arm was grabbed by Edward as the family circled around you. It was as if they were hiding you.

“Let’s go.” Edward says to you.

“It’s too late. They were leaving when they heard us.” Alice whispered in slight panic.

You heard Alice hiss out in a whisper, “Cover Y/N’s scent.”

“Scent?” you wondered in your mind.

“You’re okay. Just stay quiet, okay?” he whispered to you, to calm you down. You nod slowly.

You look up to Edward looking at you out of the corner of his eye as he glued his hand into yours. You look down, his foot taps a steady rhythm. You wondered why he did it.

You hear Carlisle speak.

“Thank you.”

You peek and see three figures standing in front of the Cullens.

“I’m Laurent, this is Victoria and this is James.”

“I’m Carlisle and this is my family.” Carlisle says as gestures with his hands.

Laurent greets everyone.

You watch as Edward glared at someone. You didn’t want to look who it was.

“So…Could you use more players?”

There was hesitance and Laurent smiles, “Just one game.” he says with one finger up.

“Oh, alright. A few of us were leaving so you can take their spot.” Carlisle says and throws the ball back to Laurent. The girl however, Victoria, caught it with such insane reflex, you held back a gasp.

Slowly, Edward tugs you away. The family moved with his movements. Carlisle kept them talking. The rain started to pour more heavily.

Edward practically threw you in the car and he was already starting the engine before you could click your seatbelt in. You watch as the others form into a game.

He drives in silence.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m sorry.”

You do nothing but stare at him.

He dropped you back off at home.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” he says again as the rain poured down behind him. You both stood in front of the front door.

“We have to talk.”

“Okay.” he says with a nod.

You give him one last look before shutting the door behind you. The rain poured much heavier. You stare out of the window.

Hours went by. Your phone rings. You answer.

“Do you want to talk?”

You watch your wall, “Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Just tell me the truth Edward…Your family are like…Superheroes or something. They jump really high, run really fast, super fast reflexes, and you all have the same eye color. Those people..In the field, their eyes were red.”

There was silence before he spoke again, “You’re right.”

“What are you?” you ask. You felt like crying. It felt scary in a way.

“I don’t want to tell you over the phone. I want to see you when I tell you.” he whispered.

You set the phone down and cover your eyes with your hand.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

“Yes.” you say after you pick your phone back up.

He doesn’t say anything else.

“Edward….We can’t see each other anymore.” you say softly.

“Y/N..I promise to tell you everything…Just not now. Please?”

“How long do you want me to wait? I just want the truth. I’ve been truthful to you.”

“You have. I just don’t want to mess this up…Us up..I really like you.”

“I like you too….But..I’m afraid all things that we like might not be good for us.”

“Y/N.” he begged.

His tone made you breathe in.

“What did Alice mean by my scent? Why were you hiding me from the red eyed people? Are they dangerous?”

“Yes. They’re very dangerous. Your scent would’ve enticed them.”

“What does that mean?” you ask softly, trying to gain understanding.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, “I want to tell you everything in person.”

“But we will be at school. Our time will be limited.”

“Can I come over?”

“What?” you ask as you never snuck in a boy before. It was almost midnight.

“I’ll sneak through your window. I won’t make a sound. I will answer everything truthfully. I promise. I…Just don’t want us to be apart.”

You think for a moment. You wondered what could go wrong. He’s patient on the line. As long as you’re on the line, he was okay.

“You promise you will answer everything?” you ask.

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”

The statement made you chuckle a bit before he joins you.

You hang up with your head spinning. In a way, you thought back to things and how things used to be. You didn’t know if things were ever going to be the same. You were a bit scared of the soon to be answers to your soon to be questions. Not knowing what to expect, you just unlock your window without opening it. You then have a seat on your bed and hug the teddy bear that he had given you tight to your chest.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Not Just a Neighbor (3)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x PlusSize!F!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: When Simon is home from deployment, all he wants to do is sleep, but noise from the apartment next door keeps him tossing and turning- his cute new neighbor's puppy.

Request submitted by anon. Thank you for your request!

Warnings: 18+ MNDI; eventual smut; language; mostly fluff; mentions of PTSD & anxiety

Series Masterlist

You tried to insist that Simon didn’t have to go through the trouble of going to a restaurant with you and Sarge. However, Simon viewed staying in and eating at either of your apartments as the easy way out. Of course, he’ll cook you dinner, stay in and watch a movie- but that’s not the first date you deserve in his eyes. 

He picks you up by knocking on your apartment door at 11:30am. He’s swapped out his usual joggers for black jeans, and a button down shirt. He also won’t admit it, but he spent way too long trying to style his hair just the right amount so that it looked effortless. He was nervous to say the least. He knows it's way too early to be thinking this way, but part of him keeps thinking this is the last first date he ever wants to go on in his life. 

When you open the door in your sundress, he doesn’t know how to handle himself. Delicate flowy fabric drapes over your curves and so much of your soft skin is exposed. He’s a goner and he knows it. He’s momentarily speechless, wracking his brain to think of something, anything to say to you but you make it so hard for him with that pretty smile. 

“Are those for me?” You ask, pointing to the bouquet in his hand. He’s relieved you said something so he didn’t have to, he needed a minute to wrap his head around everything. He nods, handing the bouquet of sunflowers to you. 

“I don’t think a guy has ever gotten me flowers on a first date,” you say with a wide smile, and your sentiment makes him angry. Not towards you- but, every single jerk you’ve dated that didn’t get them for you. Maybe he’s been out of the game for a long time, he can admit, but when did that change? 

“Thank you, they’re beautiful. I love them,” you continue, bringing them up to your nose to sniff. You open your door a little wider to let him in while you grab a vase. He steps into your front entry and waits for you as Sarge wanders over to him, demanding attention. 

Ghost pets him, letting the little guy approach him. He’s willing to meet Sarge on his terms- they have a mutual respect and understanding already. He kneels, letting Sarge sniff his hand and Simon waits before offering him a very gentle pat. When you’re ready to go, you put on Sarge’s leash and the three of you head out. 

“I assumed we’d take my car, I have Sarge’s stuff already set up in it,” you say with a giggle when you and Simon start walking towards separate cars. Simon will not be having you drive him on a date. He knows in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter- maybe it’s his pride, but he wants to spoil you. That includes driving you everywhere. 

“Okay,” he says, and he holds out his hand to you. You tilt your head in confusion, and then shake your head. 

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind driving..” you try to insist. 

“Please let me,” he insists. “I’m taking you out. I want to drive you there.” 

You give him your keys and you honestly wonder how he will fit in your little sedan.You get Sarge comfortable in his car crate, and then Simon is quick to open the passenger door for you  He has to move the driver’s  seat all the way back, and even then, his knees are still hitting the steering wheel. He says nothing if it bothers him. He catches you smirking at him and all he can do is smile back at how foolish he must look. 

The drive there is mostly comfortable silence, as you keep turning around to check on Sarge every few moments. When you turn around in your seat, you don’t realize you're pressing yourself against him, nor do you notice the way it makes him grip the steering wheel a little tighter. 

The restaurant is exactly what Simon promised: patio seating with a table in the corner farthest from the street, low music, and a dog bowl with water for Sarge conveniently next to your seat. The server is really friendly, as he escorts you to your table. Simon holds your seat out for you when you sit. Sarge makes himself comfortable under your chair and then once you’re both settled, Simon sits across from you. 

“Simon, this is so great,” you say, marveling as you look around. “You really, really didn’t have to make a fuss..” 

“Don’t you think you deserve it?” He asks, his tone playful. It makes your face feel warm. “You deserve so much more than this if you ask me,” he chuckles. 

“You say that really confidently,” you quip. “You don’t know me that well already, do you?” 

“I would really like to,” he admits, and you can tell it’s hard for him to open up like this, but he is for you. 

As the date continues, the conversation flows between the two of you. Simon loved to listen to you talk, so he found ways to ask you questions to keep you talking. He wanted to get to know you, learn anything about you that you’re willing to share with him. As time went on, and lunch turned into coffees and splitting a dessert, you were able to get Simon to open up more- more than he’s ever opened up for anyone in a really long time, or even ever. Sarge ends up falling asleep, and you can’t believe how much progress he’s making. 

You’re dreading the end of the date as Simon walks with you back to your apartment, Sarge actually letting him hold his leash much to your surprise. You feel yourself already falling for him, even though it’s been such a short time since you first met. There’s just something different this time, you feel it deep in your chest and you hope that he feels the same way. You linger in the hallway when you’re back outside your apartment door. 

He leans in, your back pressed against your front door and he kisses you. His intention is just to kiss you goodbye, press a chaste kiss to your lips and then retreat back to his own apartment. You soil his plan when you hold him close, wrapping your arm around his neck and deepening the kiss. You feel him practically melt into your touch, his body flush to yours as he towers over you. You moan softly against his lips, and he desperately needs to hear it again. 

“Would you like to come in?”

[lexirosewrites]

Day 13: Free Use

for @stmarchmm

⚠️CW: public sex in front of (mostly) unaware parties⚠️

‘Anywhere and anytime.’

That’s what they both agreed to.

No matter the risk, if the opportunity presents itself and Eddie is in the mood, Steve won’t resist unless he’s safewording out.

They’ve tested it out in more than just theory a handful of times. Mostly low risk acts though.

Groping playfully in the grocery store.

Fondling one another on the freeway.

Heavy petting at the Hideout.

Rubbing fronts in a restroom.

Nothing too dangerous. Nothing where people were so close to them.

No, none of those times were anything quite like this.

When they experimented before, Steve and Eddie were fairly careful.

They checked that the coast was clear, doors were locked, they were quiet, and the chances of them getting caught were relatively safe.

More adrenaline than actual risk.

This is different.

Eddie can make fun of Steve all he wants, but his apprehension should be understandable.

“Eddie, we really can’t,” he hisses, pushing his alpha’s hand wandering away from his waistband.

There’s a blanket covering them, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re not alone. Robin’s basement is full of other people.

Yes, they’re all adults and yes, they’re all friends. Other young couples, even!

But that still doesn’t affect the reality that Chrissy and Robin are cuddled up just a few feet away on their own loveseat, as are Argyle and Jonathan.

Eddie chuckles at him.

“What happened to ‘anywhere and anytime,’ baby? Thought you liked it that I touch my omega whenever I feel like it?” he taunts quietly, pushing past Steve’s protests easily.

Eddie’s hand sneaks back under his sweats and slides right over the front of his panties with ease.

This isn’t what Steve meant when he agreed to having a free use relationship with his alpha. Or okay, yeah, maybe it is and it just felt less scary in theory than practice.

“But they’re all…”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, giving a pointed look towards the other couches shrouded in the dark.

“Asleep, sweetheart. They all conked out like fifteen minutes ago and this stupid movie has at least an hour left. They’re not gonna wake up if you be quiet like a good boy. Can you do that for me, Stevie?” Eddie practically coos in his ear.

His fingers keep creeping downwards slowly.

Steve can’t help but squirm at the light touch against his cocklette. He still hasn’t entirely made up his mind about this, even if Eddie’s evidently made it up for both of them.

“What if they wake up?”

Eddie uses the arm wrapped around his shoulder to pull Steve even closer to his side.

He doesn’t move his other hand, but his palm is resting openly over Steve’s pussy, covering it with a warm grip that silently says it belongs to him.

The alpha then kisses the side of his head so very sweetly, as if they aren’t discussing something entirely debauched and filthy.

“That’s what the blanket is for, darling. They won’t know and I don’t plan on telling them either. Just breathe and let your alpha take care of you. I do the thinking here, yeah?”

Steve swallows down his arguments and the spit building up in his mouth from being talked down to so lovingly.

Eddie always knows what he needs and giving up control to him has been the best decision in Steve’s life.

He’s yet to lead him astray, even if they end up down some wild roads due to Eddie’s navigation.

“Okay,” he agrees with a near silent chirp. “Anytime and anywhere,” Steve repeats hesitantly.

“There’s my perfect omega,” Eddie praises him lowly.

He doesn’t pull out his real alpha voice like that very often, but the deep pitch he can reach with it shoots straight to Steve’s core.

It summons forth his slick with little effort.

“Love you,” Steve answers, his request unsaid.

Eddie understands.

“I love you too, baby. And normally, I love to hear your pretty mouth make pretty sounds too, but you’re gonna have to control yourself or I’ll have to control you,” he states simply.

Steve doesn’t ask for clarification because the threat (promise) is very clear.

Instead, he nods in agreement and forces himself to relax his body one anxious limb at a time. This agreement is supposed to be fun and tensing up isn’t going to lead anywhere good.

Eddie’s lips press wetly against his jawline and the alpha’s hand is no longer resting in place.

His thumb catches on the head of Steve’s cocklette, rubbing over it slowly like there’s not a layer of cotton between their skin.

“Ed—” Steve chokes out, needing more than just the tease.

“Shhhh, omega. Do you want to wake our friends up? What would they think if they saw you like this, huh?”

Steve is well aware that Eddie isn’t actually aiming for them to be caught, he made that clear, which is exactly why he feels comfortable messing with Steve’s head like this.

“No, please don’t,” he moans out as Eddie moves his panties aside and slips two fingers down into his cunt with no warning.

“Oh? Don’t touch you, honey? You want me to stop?” Eddie rasps into his ear sarcastically.

Steve nearly growls in frustration when his alpha freezes, acting like he would actually call this off.

“Don’t you dare,” he snaps a bit too harshly.

Eddie nips the shell of his ear meanly.

Too loud. Oops.

“Stevie, baby… I already told you to watch your fucking mouth.”

Steve is well aware of that. But sometimes it’s fun to test the boundaries and see what happens. Games are only fun when they both get to play and Steve is feeling feisty tonight.

“Make me.”

Eddie accepts that challenge readily.

Steve may have forgotten about his alpha’s free hand, but Eddie certainly didn’t and he uses it to stick three fingers in Steve’s mouth to silence him.

He almost gags on them, but he’s used to much bigger things in his mouth.

As it is though, there’s no way to quietly vocalize his frustrations.

“Not so tough now, are you, pretty boy?”

Eddie doesn’t expect a reply and Steve doesn’t give one, other than to suck on his fingers innocently.

“Brat,” Eddie comments affectionately.

That doesn’t slow him down though. In fact, he slips another finger into Steve easily, hole plenty slick enough.

It takes a moment to realize Eddie’s matching the rhythm of Steve’s sucking, but for some reason that really does it for him.

His thighs clench together, trying to get Eddie at the right angle to let him finish. All of this bantering foreplay has him close to the edge already.

“Relax.”

He can’t.

That’s physically impossible to do with the way Eddie’s thrusting his fingers as deep as he can get them and using his thumb to continuously rub at his cocklette head.

Steve attempts to mumble, “Please,” but it ends up as a slurring line of drool instead.

His body feels electric and he just needs permission, for Eddie to say that he’s done well and can receive his reward.

As if he can read Steve’s mind, Eddie kisses his cheek sweetly and whispers, “Such a good boy. Go ahead and cum on my fingers.”

He does so whilst locking eyes with a smirking Argyle.

[rainychaoloveshack]

May I request Shadow or mobian!reader in a time loop. One of them is stuck, the other is blissfully unaware and won’t remember every time it’s reset. You can pick who is stuck! They are Asking for help and then the other giving a sudden smooch? Maybe more… than a smooch? Little heated if you so desire. They’re not yet together, or aware of the other persons feelings until that little kiss. After the loop is fixed, it’s awkward cause the one that was stuck in the loop knows. Like what’s the aftermath shsosnszk

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝. 𝐒𝐡𝐚����𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

you’ll love shadow even after every reset possible. no matter what.

⋆°•☁︎ content . shadow x gn!reader, angst to light fluff, friends to lovers, slight suggestive material warning. light mention of not eating/drinking for days, implied depression.

☂︎ wc. 1.6k ☂︎ a/n. i loved this request sm. like this one just spoke to my angsty soul. might be the longest thing here yet; sorry its too long ^^’ srry this took a while! i was flip flopping on who i wanted to be stuck ^^’

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!! (i like chatting to you guys!)

Two hundred and thirty-six days. That's how many times you’ve watched the clock strike twelve exactly on Saturday, signaling to you the day had started over again. Never to watch the next day pass. Forced to live everyday like its a new one, yet still subject to HIS charming nature, even if he’s so stubborn in the way he shows his affection towards you.

You try your best to switch up the routines as you go nowadays, trying to excite your life, yet nothing ever works. The clock strikes twelve as it always does. At this point, it’s become numb; infuriatingly so. Some days you’ll gain that motivation back to try something different, whether it be surrounding yourself with new people to serve as a distraction, or trying to dig deeper into the cause of your time loop, to no avail. And other days you rot inside your room, staring at the clock on the wall, watching it tick. And tick. And tick, until it hits twelve again.

Some days you’ll forget to eat and drink, sometimes on purpose, first finding comfort in that pitting feeling in your stomach, finally feeling something after so long, but soon falling numb to that feeling too.

The only reason you have the strength to keep going is the belief that you’ll see your friends again. No matter what. In your timeline, without any interference.

Nothing changed today. Another day wasted, yet someone raps on your door sharply, forcing you to open your eyes gently and utter a small ‘okay’ to let them in.

… This hasn’t happened before. Why is he here?

“You’ve been stuck in here all day.” Shadow grumbles as he pushes your door open, the door squeaking on its hinges, with the moonlight already shining through your blowing curtains. “Have you even gotten out of bed today?” He says sternly, walking over to your bedside and nudging you, causing you to stir out of your resting state. You had already given up for today, so the plan was to just fall asleep until tomorrow.

‘Tomorrow’... What a dream tomorrow is to you.

Turning over, you meet his crimson eyes with a dull sigh leaving your lips, briefly glancing over to the clock set on the wall.

10:35 PM. It’s almost twelve. One more hour. One and a half.

He shifts his weight to one of his feet, setting a hand on his hip as he growls down at you. “No one saw you today, so Sonic told me to go and check on you. Especially since it’s this late and you’ve been missing for all of today.” He scoffs, clearly aggravated at your lack of energy or action. “You couldn’t at least tell one person that you 're going to stay inside all day?” Your blankets drop down to your lap as you sit up slowly, peering up at him through the blurry haze of your mind.

“At least I know you’re alive.” He says, walking over to your covered window to peel the curtains back, letting the moonlight illuminate your room with a soft, white glow. “Come on.” Shadow sits across from you on the bed, tugging the blankets away from you to encourage you to get up.

Why is he so persistent? Why can’t he just leave you alone? But even then, he’s still so…

Lovely.

Suddenly, tears prick and poke at the back of your eyes, welling up to the corners as they threaten to spill out and drip down your cheeks. Shadow stares at you as you hang your head low, refusing to meet his gaze as you try to shove that feeling away, despising that feeling of your throat tightening, even if you’ve begged to feel something other than despair for the longest time.

Of course. He doesn’t know what to do, but he’s still so charming…

“[Name]?” His hand presses against your calf under the blanket, slightly leaning forward to see the tears fall on your face, your shoulders trembling. “Wh-What’s wrong? Is it me?” A tremble flows through his hand; barely noticeable to someone who wouldn’t be paying attention to such a small detail. “[Name], tell me what’s wrong. Why’re you crying so suddenly?” Shadow murmurs, grabbing you by your shoulders to try to ease your worries.

Tell him. Tell him. Tell him you’ve been living every day hoping it’s the last one. Praying to be ripped from this curse. Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him Tell him

“What?” Shadow’s ear flicks in an odd manner, clearly confused at your sudden declaration. “I’m sorry? … Time-looping?”

And so you shatter. Break in front of his eyes; incessant ramblings about you feel like you’re going insane, yet the only thing to bring you back down to earth is getting to see him everyday on this agonizing, pitiful day. 

Something in his heart really does want to believe in you, truly. Although disbelief stands present in his head, he’ll reach out to you anyway. No matter what.

“[Name].” he utters your name, his gloved hand grazing your cheek to wipe a stray tear away. “I…” Shadow stares into your eyes, trying to fight back the shock from showing on his face. His hands twitch as he reaches out for yours, grazing the back of your palm. “If you really think that you’re… Looping; then I believe you. I promise.”

What?

This is different. New. Two hundred and thirty-six times. Never had something like this happened before. Two hundred and thirty-six. Two hundred and thirty-six. Two hundred and thirty-six days. Five thousand six hundred and sixty-four hours. 

It feels like your head is going to split into two, pulled and ripped apart by the hour and minute hand. It’s agonizing. But it’s something.

“[Name].” Shadow tilts your head up from your chin to face him. “I…” It looks like he’s at a loss for words, not that you blame him. 

“Come here.” He says softly, beckoning you closer to him with two fingers. What in the world does he want? Even though you ask multiple questions in your head, you lean in closer anyway to-

Huh?

His lips brush against yours, and it’s slow but sweet; still hesitant before he presses them further onto you, nipping at your bottom lip, almost desperate for something more. Deeper. Deeper. Even more so.

“[Name],” he growls in between pants, his voice trembling at the end of your name. “[Name], [Name], [Name], [Name]...” Shadow keeps on saying in between your kisses and breaths for air, almost like a record constantly on repeat. His palms press into your shoulders, pinning you down on the bed, as he leans over your trembling form. His eyes dart to the clock hanging on the wall, before looking back at you, cupping one of your cheeks.

He really feels the same way about you? He does? Your head subconsciously leans into his touch, pressing your face against his hand, desperately wanting- No. You have to feel the warmth coming from him.

“I’ll use whatever time I have left to spend it here with you. Even once it hits twelve; you have my word.” He whispers, leaning in to kiss you again…

Your head's pounding, the blankets laying heavy on your body this morning. Strangely heavy. Ugh. The mental toll of last night might be hitting you already, even if it’s another reset.

Wait, no, it’s not the blanket. If it’s not the blanket, it’s…

“How’re you feeling?” Shadow murmurs, raising his head off your chest to look at you directly. It’s really nerve-racking… But not in a bad way, somehow. “Are you sore anywhere?”

His question makes you cock your head to the side in confusion. Sore? Why would you be-

No. More importantly, what in the world is he doing in your bed? The day starts with your alarm ringing, but it hasn’t done so at all. In fact, it’s later than you would usually wake up; the clock’s hands say so.

Wait. So it’s really Sunday? Is it?!

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Shadow chuckles softly at your bewildered face, opening his mouth again to respond, but your arms toss around him, bear-hugging his body tight against yours.

“Ah, okay, okay, you’re happy; I get it…” Shadow grumbles, starting to pull away from you, but the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes makes him stop his protesting movements immediately, reaching up to wipe them away. “Oh come on, don’t start crying again.”

… Again? 

Your happy sobs are cut short by your own shock; this morning is getting both happier and weirder by the second. Again? So that means he knows it all? Everything?

A rare smile spreads across his muzzle, his eyes staring thoughtfully into yours. “Two hundred and thirty-six times…” Shadow starts, brushing his hand across your shoulder, and your face heats up gradually at the mention of the number coming from him. “So you really were telling the truth.”

You never told him that number. No way. Shouldn’t it just be like another reset?! Did he really remember your breakdown? No way, no way…

“When you mentioned the loop, something was telling me you were right, even if it sounded absurd.” He says, pausing his thoughts to think a bit harder about the situation. During this, he lifts himself off your body to sit at the edge of your bed, stretching his arms out in front of him. “I just…” He mumbles, his voice softening with his own strange embarrassment. “If it was really a time loop like you said, I wanted to try something I knew I wouldn’t regret.”

All time stuff aside, something else is nagging at your mind…

Did you two really do all that stuff last night?

Shadow peers over at you, before turning his head away; surely holding back some laughter by the way his shoulders shake, cupping his hand over his mouth.

“It’s nothing; don’t worry about it, then.”

(the set-up took longer than i thought it would, sorry for the yapping…)

[howtotrainabraincell]

Head cannons bc I can - Assassin’s body parts preferences (and extras...)

AN: I would just like to say that ALL of the Assassin's will protect their love with their lives, not standing for any disrespect or rudeness toward her in any way shape or form. I may not have put it in the description of every Assassin, but it goes without saying. ALSO, plz don't @ me bc this is my first ever spicy post lol

Altair Ibn La’Ahad - loves burying his face in her neck and grabbing her backside cheekily lol, loves bathing with her but won’t deny that’s it’s hard to control himself around her naked body. Comes to her after a mission (if they didn't go on it together that is or if she's not an assassin) to hold her and just melts against her, grateful to have her and be back in her arms alive. Pulls her away ever so often to a corner where he'll kiss her breathless and then just walk off like nothing happened (this man-), loves to chase lol if she runs from him, it sets something deep and primal off in him, and when he eventually catches her? 😳😳😳

Shay Patrick Cormac - definitely breasts lol and has a thing for waists, also loves thighs & has a thing for kissing from the top of her foot to the inside of her thighs, this man can pick up grown soldiers, flip them over his shoulder and then just toss them to the ground like it nothing so he’s strong - tell.me he doesn’t pick up his love and carry her off for some alone time. She won't have to worry about anyone on the Morrigan getting any ideas because Shay has made it VERY clear that she's his and his only. He'll legit fight for her if someone makes her uncomfortable or harasses her and make them regret the day they were born (that is if they can even think afterward bc they'll probably be dead). It - depending on the mood he's in - makes him feel very loved and cared for or very turned on and ready to pin her down, when she kisses the scar over his eye. Don't even get me started on how naughty this fricken man is in Irish Gaelic. (Sir! Control thyself!)

Edward Kenway - an ass man for sure and he loves the thighs too, stands behind her and glares at anyone who checks her out from his spot behind her where he’ll press a possessive kiss to her shoulder while glaring at them. Why do I have feeling that this man has a thing for women who can shoot guns? If she shoots a gun in front of him all pirate-esque he'll literally beg her to step on him haha. Loves him a mouthy feisty woman because not only does it turn.him.on, he gets a kick out of a lovely woman being able to blow someone out of the water with her insults & statements of self-defense. Will also waylay anyone who disrespects her, he'll actually feed them their teeth (don't test him with her)

Jacob Ethan Frye - both the man’s bi lol he can have both if he wants, he for sure does playful butt pats and grabs occasionally but usually when they’re alone (USUALLY & if a Rook bore witness? THEY SAW NOTHING), definitely into holding his love on his lap and whispering dirty things in her ear to fluster her. Will fight to protect her and God help them because they'll have him and the Rooks to deal with (that is if Jacob doesn't crush them and turn them into dust that blows away in the wind lol). Also loves him a feisty and mouthy woman, if she's sarcastic, witty and goofy on top of that? This man is more whipped than whipped cream. Total gentleman even if she can hand his ass to him on a silver platter, he still treats her with utmost respect. Enjoys lying in bed with her and cuddling (give the man all the cuddles STAT) lazily playing with her hair and believe it not - not all kissing with the amorous assassin leads to *wink wink*. He genuinely enjoys laying there with her on a slow day and kissing her sweetly, over and over again. Man is a genuine romantic sweetheart (and nothing will change my mind). It's not an odd occurrence for Evie to wonder where her younger brother is, only to find him conked out on his love's chest just peacefully snoozing away as she holds him reading a book or some files. Totally see him tracing his fingers down her sternum until he reaches her breasts and tracing the insides of them to get her riled up (if he's feeling mean he'll even give a cheeky kiss haha). Also loves to chase her across rooftops and make bets of a spicier nature...

Evie Frye - loves to kiss her loves hands & jaw (particularly that one little spot…) and trace kisses down her sternum, has a habit of cornering her and making out with her lol then she just goes on about her day like nothing happened, plays footsies underneath table surfaces (CHANGE MY MIND). Loves all of her and honestly don't think she would have a preference, Evie's just grateful to have her at all and be with her. Woman was dedicated to being alone as a result of being in the Brotherhood. Think she would get a kick out of witty and playful banter, the more her love speaks the more in love she falls and the more she desires her. She's good with her hands. I said it. Sue me. She.has.good.hands. The woman tis skilled (in more ways than one...) This also pertains to corsets and buttons whether it be doing them or undoing them... Kind think she would like chasing her love through the city too and if it ends up in a garden? The woman internally swoons.

Kassandra of Sparta - breasts she likes pulling her love against her and then looking down to see them pressed against her armor being gorgeous as usual and she loves to grab hips, she will CUT Alcibiades if he looks at her love lol bc she KNOWS what he's thinking about, only lets her hair down around her love and adores laying in between her thighs while her fingers give her a head a very relaxing massage (seriously they can put the woman to sleep lol)

Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway - I think we can all agree that this sweet man isn't very sexual BUT once he settles down, he does have an appreciation for his loves figure. Loves to hover over her from behind and kiss the top of her head, and when things get more intimate between them, he loves to give her kisses all over her face. Flowers with him would be a common occurrence, often times she wakes up to beautiful wildflowers on her bedside table or on the pillow beside her. This man is a good provider. And if she takes an interest in hunting with him, more than a few times he'll briefly lose interest in hunting the animal and playfully hunting her instead... Feel like he strokes her legs lovingly and takes his time exploring the sexual feelings he has for her. He would love her breasts because they're beautiful, soft and full of life.

Alexios of Sparta - ass for sure he seems like a butt smacker haha she’ll be minding her own business when he comes out of nowhere and gives her a light loving smack. He comes up behind her and literally sweeps her off her feet - no pleasantries, just "you're mine now" lol

Haytham Kenway - breasts has a thing for tracing the tops of them when she wears dresses to get her riled up all while delivering an “innocent” kiss to her flaming red cheek, will randomly stoop to her level to whisper something 😳 in her ear. Get a vibe that he would spoil her with beautiful jewelry and then woo her until it's the only thing she has on, before taking her to bed... Morning sex seems like the norm for him because he's not always there when she falls asleep arriving home late, but when he sees her in the morning, he more than makes it up to her and greets her in very steamy manner. He reminds her to remain neutral when she stands next to him during a meeting as he sits down with his hand hidden by her dress on her backside gently squeezing and acting completely casual about it the cheeky -

Desmond Miles - breasts & when Shaun stresses him out, he presses his head into them lol it’s stress relieving, comes up behind her and hugs her tightly, definitely into spooning he likes the physical contact, and he melts when she kisses his forehead. Before everything he screwed, but now with the woman he loves? He makes love and thoroughly enjoys every second of it with her. Having her by his side through everything means more to him than he can express.

Arno Victor Dorian - this man feels like a worshipper he would love all of her body and take his time with her, but he does tend to go for breasts more coming out of nowhere and kissing the tops of them reverently throughout the day, definitely takes her hand in his and kisses it with full eye contact to the point where it makes her blush, earning a chuckle from him. Tell me that this man doesn't pull her away to corners throughout the day or on a mission and kiss her before walking away casually like nothing happened lol. Got a feeling he's very into whisking his love away just getting her attention and pulling her away to wherever they can have a few moments alone together. Good kisser. I refuse to believe anything else. He swoops in gives a sweet kiss that leaves her flustered, and he stands there watching her with a smile on his face. For some reason I think he's into the whole secret lover rendezvous thing, aka coming in through his love's window or meeting her secretly (it's exciting and he gets her all alone...)

Ezio Auditore Da Firenze - also feels like a worshipping type of man except everywhere, everything, all the time lol, but he does have a preference for breasts often times hugging his love around the waist and burying his face in them. We've all seen how this man has thing for pinning his lady to the wall...do with it what you will. But he does it to her and OFTEN lol. A little more promiscuous in public - stopping of course if she gets uncomfortable - than others and is not afraid to show how he feels about her. Also, a good kisser. I mean COME ON.

Bayek of Siwa - he loves her breasts because beneath them lies her heart and he cherishes the fact that she has given it to him, loves to star gaze with her - they lay there together peacefully as he tells her about the constellations and their meaning. Loves bathing with her just laying back and relaxing, eyes roving her form as she cleans him and gives him a shave (he refuses to shave unless she does it for him bc he loves her touch and how great her handiwork is). Gives the kinds of kisses that melt her like a stick of butter lol, a kiss from him has a lot of emotion poured into it telling without words how much he loves her.

[corruptedcaps]

Out of Office

Dr. Morgan stood at the threshold of his lab, his pulse quickening as he stared at his phone. He had just returned from a week-long vacation in the remote mountains, completely cut off from civilization. It was supposed to be a simple break from his intense work of studying alien biological samples recovered from a meteorite impact site.

His assistant, Claire, had assured him that everything would be fine in his absence. But as he listened to her voicemails, a growing dread gripped him. Something had gone wrong.

At first, her messages were normal but they got increasingly... odd. He had listened to them in the car on the way to the lab and with each subsuquent message he sped up faster.

VOICEMAIL 1 Monday, 8:32 AM

"Hey, Doctor! It’s Claire. Just wanted to check in and let you know everything’s good here. The samples are stable, no unexpected changes. I’ll keep logging their activity and make sure nothing gets near the containment units. No need to worry. Enjoy your time off! You deserve the break."

VOICEMAIL 2 Wednesday, 10:17 AM

"Hi, Doctor. So… small update. One of the samples, Sample B, showed a bit of activity. It pulsed for a second, almost like it was… alive. Weird, right? Anyway, it’s back to normal now. Probably some environmental fluctuation. I’ll keep monitoring it, just to be safe."

VOICEMAIL 3 Thursday, 11:43 PM

"Doctor… something’s happening. Sample D started moving on its own. And B, it’s… growing. It’s not contained to its chamber anymore. I tried to secure it, but it, it touched me. I feel… strange. My skin’s warm, almost buzzing. I don’t know what it’s doing to me. I need you to call me as soon as you get this."

VOICEMAIL 4 Friday, 2:27 PM

"Hey, Doctor. You know what? I was totally overreacting. I think… I was afraid of something I didn’t understand. But now, I see it. The samples… they’re not hostile. They’re… welcoming. When Sample B made contact with me, it didn’t hurt. It felt incredible. Like it was… part of me. I feel connected to something bigger, something extraordinary. You should experience it too."

VOICEMAIL 5 Saturday, 8:19 PM

"Doctor… The samples, they’ve helped me so much. My skin is softer, my body… enhanced in ways I can’t describe. I look in the mirror and barely recognize myself… but I love it. My lips are fuller, my boobs are big and perfect. I feel… powerful, seductive, radiant. Every inch of me hums with energy. The samples made me better. That’s why I’m going to release the rest of them. I can feel their eagerness to touch me."

VOICEMAIL 6 Sunday, 6:00 AM

"Evan… come to the lab. They’re waiting for you. I’m waiting for you. We’ll be whole, together. I’ve missed you… so much."

-

Evan’s breath quickened as the last message ended as he stood in front of his lab door. He hesitated. Something was clearly wrong with Claire and the samples but maybe he could help her. He threw open the door and rushed toward the lab. But just as he stepped into the hall, he skidded to a stop.

Claire stood there, waiting for him.

Her once-pristine lab coat had now morphed into a tight and shiny black dress that barely clung to her body. Speaking of her body, it was now the most perfect female form Evan had ever seen. Her skin was flawless, her breasts envious and her curves made Evan feel weak. Her eyes were now black pools of liquid light, swirling with alien energy. She smiled, her lips impossibly perfect, her voice honey-sweet yet filled with something darker.

"We’ve missed you, Doctor." She said softly, stepping closer.

Before he could react, she reached out and pressed her hand against his chest. The black goo slithered off her fingertips and onto his shirt, spreading like liquid fire across his skin. Evan stumbled back, gasping as the substance soaked through his clothes, cold and burning all at once.

He tried to scream, but the goo surged upward, a wave of darkness pouring into his mouth and down his throat, silencing him. He thrashed, struggling to resist, but the alien substance had a mind of its own. It moved inside him, rewriting him. His muscles bulged, growing stronger, leaner. His skin tightened, taking on a flawless sheen. His features sharpened, transforming him into a figure of striking beauty and power.

Claire watched with a wicked smile as he convulsed, his body remade in the image of something far beyond human.

Evan fought against the alien organisms infecting his body and mind. He couldn’t give in.

“No! This is wrong. We have to fight it Claire!” He said trying to plead with her humanity but she wasn’t human anymore.

“Shh…” She whispered. “Don’t fight it. You’re becoming what we need you to be. What I need you to be. We have been chosen for a great purpose Evan, we will birth a new race to conquer this worthless planet. You and I are will be the first. I will be the queen and if you give in, you shall be the king.”

Evan tried to fight the pleasure now coursing through his body. He felt strong, powerful, alive. The alien organism showed him images of a world that he controlled, of an army that bowed before him. It was an intoxicating sight but what tipped him over the edge were the images of Claire, his wicked queen, moaning in carnal pleasure as he fucked her with a new more massive cock.

Evan’s body stopped trembling. His breath steadied, his eyes snapping open, jet black, swirling like Claire’s. His lips curled into a slow, hungry smile as he looked at her, desire and power coursing through him.

“Yessss…” He hissed, his voice thick with newfound strength. “Give in… I want to give in!”

The black goo solidified, wrapping around his body like armor, transforming his vacation wear into a sleek, obsidian suit that clung to him as tightly as Claire’s did to her. His hands flexed, marveling at the raw power that surged through him. He stepped toward Claire, his eyes burning with lust and purpose.

“My queen.” He said, his voice like velvet. “There’s much work to do.”

Claire’s eyes gleamed with delight. She traced her finger down his chest, her touch electric.

“So much glorious work, my king.” She whispered. “And we’ll make this world kneel before us.”

"This world is merely an appetiser. Once it is under our heel our destiny awaits out in the stars." He said with a dark and triumphant laugh that Claire soon joined in on. Their reign was about to begin.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Doctor's Sister 🩶 | Charlie Swan Imagine

Takes place during Twilight: Eclipse & Breaking Dawn P.1

Twilight Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Charlie Swan x female!vampire!reader (romantic), Bella Swan x Edward Cullen, Edward Cullen x reader (platonic), Bella Swan x reader (platonic)

Content warnings: fluff, flirtatious banter, slight canon divergence | female reader (she/her) | wc: 2.9k

requested 📥 yes/no

Premise: It was supposed to be a quick trip in-n-out of the house to pack for her weekend excursion at the Cullen residence, but when Bella gets sidetracked talking to her dad, it results in Charlie being introduced to a member of the Cullen family who's a sight for sore eyes and a silver tongue.

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

“Give me five minutes,” Bella climbed the steps of her home, shooting a glance to the person over her shoulder, “I need to grab a few things and let my dad know I’m not being kidnapped…or skipping town again.” Without waiting for their reply, Bella entered the house and shouted for Charlie. 

“In here!” he called from the kitchen, Bella walking in to find him seated at the table, newspaper in hand as he ate lunch. Out of uniform as it happened to be the rare occasion he got the day off. 

“I’m staying over at the Cullens this weekend,” she announced, then quickly added at his taken aback expression, “if that’s alright with you. Alice wants to have a sleepover while the rest of her family is camping.” 

Shrugging, not really putting up a fight, Charlie replies, “That’s fine. Is it just you two?” Bella nods, making him hum and visibly pleased. “Cool. Just check in once a day for your old man’s sake.” 

“Of course,” with a tight smile, Bella turns on her heel and rushes up the stairs. Packing her Jansport and a duffle bag with clothes, her homework, and toiletries to last till Sunday. Lastly grabbing her journal and copy of Wuthering Heights on her way out. 

Setting her bags by the door, she goes back to the kitchen, seeing Charlie’s back to her as he washes the dishes in the sink. “You gonna be okay while I’m gone?”

“Bella, I'm a grown man and know how to take care of myself. Go, have fun with your friend.”

She bites her lip, shuffling on her feet, “Are you sure you’re fine with me staying over there?”

“You said it’s just you and Alice, I see no reason to think otherwise,” drying his hands with a towel, he turns to face her, slightly shrugging, “she’s a nice girl and--.”

“You like her more than Edward,” She finishes his sentence with a defeated sigh. She’ll never change his mind. And nothing Edward could do will win him Charlie’s favor. It was a losing battle they were fighting.

  Walking up to the counter, Bella leaned her back against the surface while keeping her attention on her dad. “I know, I just thought…after what happened last fall…”

“Please, don’t remind me, Bella.” 

She flushed again, “I’m sorry. And I know it doesn’t make up for what I did or what part the Cullens’ played in it…but they’re my friends. And Edward is a part of my life, Dad. I’d like for you to find some forgiveness if you can.”

Charlie simply shakes his head, not really believing his next words but saying them for her sake, “You forgave them. I’ll try to. I may not know the whole story but I trust you--well I trust your judgment,” he corrects, narrowing his brows resulting in heat to reach Bella’s cheeks. Reminded of her impulsive trip to Italy. 

Which he doesn’t even know the whole story about. Best he didn’t. Some secrets were worth keeping

Speaking of secrets. Bella completely forgot about the person waiting for her outside. Who took it upon herself to interrupt the conversation between father and daughter once her patience began to run thin. 

“Bella,” The human swore her heart stopped, snapping her head to the entrance of the kitchen to find the source of the voice leaning against the doorframe with a mischievous smirk. Obvious delight in her eyes which were obscured by the tinted round sunglasses she wore. Charlie, also surprised by the sudden interruption--of a stranger no less in his house, spun around with wide eyes, immediately becoming flustered. “You didn’t say your father was so handsome.” 

The sound Charlie choked on caused the woman’s smirk to widen. Bella shooting a, ‘what the hell?’ look, before saying, “I told you I’d be right out.”

“You said five minutes,” barely glancing at her watch, her tone shifted to mock annoyance. “It’s been six. Now, aren’t you going to introduce me? It’s been so long since this town has had anyone that’s a sight for sore eyes.” 

Rolling her eyes, Bella waved a hand and turned to Charlie with apologetic eyes, who was perplexed, flushed by her flirtation, and awaiting an explanation. “Dad, this is Y/n Cullen. Carlisle’s sister.” 

“Sister?” he finally found his voice, shocked by the revelation, yet somehow gathered himself to shake her gloved hand when she presented it. Having not realized she’d pushed off the doorframe and approached the two. “I didn’t know the doctor had a sister.” 

“Oh,” she removed her sunglasses, revealing golden eyes. The same stunning color of her family. “Forgive my little brother.” Little was really pushing it. Carlisle had over 200 years on Y/n, but she was physically older having been transformed in her early to mid 30s. “We haven’t seen each other in years. Plus he’s too busy saving lives and raising children. I wouldn’t put it past the small detail being omitted, not to mention I’m rarely in the country to check in.”

Charlie, a little unsettled by her nonchalant way of saying the two were estranged, says, “What brings you back to town? Bella mentioned the Cullens were going camping.”

‘Oh you know, just preparing to fight against an army of newborn vampires to repay a debt owed to my dear brother and nephew after they killed my former lover who tried to kill me.’

“Yes, we leave this afternoon for the mountains,” Y/n smiles, still thinking about what awaits them in the days to come. “I’m not one for camping, but it’ll be nice to spend some time with my brother and the family after so many years abroad. And to answer your question, I came back home for Edward, Alice and Jasper’s graduation.” 

“Y/n arrived last month and will be staying for a few weeks.” Bella interjected, trying to hide the stress in her voice. “But we met last summer.” The woman smirked, bringing a finger to her lips as the memory of their first meeting flashed in her mind. Where Y/n mistaken Bella for a stray human and Edward had to tackle her away, leaving poor Bella partially traumatized. Ever since then the two have developed a sisterly/aunt-niece relationship.

“Total misunderstanding,” Y/n waved a hand, winking at the man and ignoring the warning look she was receiving from Bella. “I had one too many that night and may have said or done some things I’m not proud of. Especially for a first meeting. But Bella here is an angel, and luckily there were no hard feelings. Am I right?” Bella just sent a thumbs up, willing the conversation to end and save her father from Y/n’s antics. 

“Well we’re gonna go,” Bella leans to give Charlie a kiss on the cheek, gesturing for Y/n to start walking to the door. “Don’t want to keep Alice waiting before she decides to hunt us down.”

Y/n, humored by the girl and loving the way she and her father get easily flustered, goes, “Oh alright. Charlie, it was a pleasure to meet you,” while not hiding the way her eyes flicker up and down his body. Lips curling, liking what she saw.

Shaking her hand once more, this time longer and the touch lingering as they let go, Charlie smiles, “You as well, Y/n.”

“While I’m in town I could use a tour guide. It’s been ages as I’ve said since I’ve been in Forks and would love to know what all the hot spots are. As the chief of police,” her white teeth flash, nearly blinding the humans by their brightness, “care to show a lady around town?”

Desperately trying to not become red as a tomato, Charlie holds himself together and accepts the offer, “I’d be honored to.”

It’d been years since he caught the attention of a woman. The last date he went on was probably before Bella moved in. Or longer than that with how busy work had been. Now here he was with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, in his kitchen, chatting him up and not afraid to show her attraction. 

“Wonderful,” Y/n mentally laughs at the exasperated reaction by Bella. Focusing on the handsome man in front of her. “I’ll be in touch.” Sending one last wink, Y/n turns on her heel and exits the kitchen. Bella follows her out, but not before giving one last apologetic glance to her father and grabs her bags as the two leave the house. 

“Did you really have to do that?”

“What?” Y/n laughs/scoffs, moving to the driver’s side of her classic Ford Mustang. Bella putting her bags in the front seat while tsking. “Can’t a lady flirt and have some fun without being judged for once in her life.”

“I don’t care who you flirt with, Y/n. I’m not like Carlisle or Edward,” Bella buckles in, hearing the roar of the engine fill her ears. Letting her hands fall to her lap, she turns to the vampire with pleading eyes. “But he’s my dad. And he doesn’t know about anything. So please don’t mess with him--especially when you’re leaving once this is all over.”

“Relax,” Y/n places her sunglasses back on the bridge of her nose, leaning against the smooth leather of the seat. “I’m not going to get tangled with your father. He seems like a good guy. But I’m not kidding when I say he’s a sight for sore eyes.” Bella groans, igniting a laugh from the vampire. “Listen I’ve been around the world and this town takes the cake for the blandest looking men I’ve ever seen. The women are gorgeous and can do way better than what they’re given. But damn,” a low whistle leaves her lips.

Bella groans again, rubbing her temple, “Okay I get it. You think my dad is attractive. Now can we please go?” 

With one last obnoxious laugh, Y/n steps on the gas and drives them away from the house. Blasting Price’s ‘Let’s Go Crazy,’ for all ears to hear. To which Y/n casually drops that she partied with Prince back in the 80s. And while Bella tried to assure herself Y/n would adhere to her promise not to mess with Charlie, she couldn’t help but think of the way her father lit up during that short encounter. Like he was mesmerized.

Something she hadn’t seen from him in years.

August 13th

The reception was in full swing. Bella held tight to Edward’s hand as he led them around to greet the guests. Alice had really gone all out on the perfect ceremony followed by the perfect party. Of course she had help from Rosalie and Y/n, who ended up staying after the newborn army ordeal once Edward and Bella announced their engagement. A decision which surprised everyone, but Carlisle the most. 

And Bella had a tiny inkling the reason involved the person she was approaching the couple with. 

“Well I gotta say,” Charlie began, beer in one hand and the other holding Y/n’s. Both wearing matching smiles. “Alice sure knows how to throw a party.” Edward chuckled, pulling Bella closer to him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. 

“I agree.”

“That’s the last time I’ll ever put my two cents in when it comes to planning an event,” Y/n comments, leaning into Charlie’s side. Her purple satin dress complimenting his dapper tuxedo. “Felt like I was going to lose my mind.” 

“Thank you, Y/n, for everything. I know going head-to-head with Alice is a tough battle,” Bella teases, causing the woman to playfully gasp and the two men grinning. The sight of her father looking happy brought a smile to Bella’s lips, beaming at the way he looked ten years younger. All the usual stress and tiredness in his features disappearing. 

After the battle in June, Charlie held his promise to show Y/n around town. Then the meetings continued. And when Y/n planned to leave Forks, her debt to the family paid, she suddenly announced she was renting a small home on the outskirts of town, leaving the number to a landline phone she installed. 

“Carlisle, I love you. And I love this family like they are my blood one,” she said to him on her way out of the Cullen home, the older vampire following her with a million questions. “But I'd rather get my head ripped off by Aro than live under the same roof as you and your heathens you call teenagers. Trouble seems to follow you lot, and I do not wish the same for me. So,” patting his cheek like a sister would a brother, Y/n blows a kiss and scurries off, “call me if you need or drop by…but I can’t assure I’ll be of service.”

Yeah, it wasn’t long before they found out from Alice’s visions Y/n was seeing Charlie Swan. Not to mention Bella came home to Y/n’s Mustang in their driveway. Where she walked in to find Y/n pretending to enjoy a cup of coffee while she and Charlie discussed Italian history. 

Two months later, the two have officially entered a relationship. Bella was initially reluctant to accept it, but upon seeing their interactions, and the obvious affection they shared, she knew it would be wrong to come in between their happiness.

And it would also make her a hypocrite if we’re being real. 

“Is it like us?” she asked Edward one night, cuddling him in her bed while Charlie sleeps down the hall. “In Italy, Aro said my blood sings to you. Does his sing to her?” She felt him shake his head.

“What we have is rare. Most vampires never meet their blood singer--and in some cases become so overwhelmed by the scent they end up killing them.” Bella shivers, recalling the time Edward told the story of Emmett killing his blood singer. “But the feelings my aunt shares toward your dad is like the rest of my family. What Carlisle felt when he met Esme. Why Rosalie begged him to change Emmett when she found him. Why Alice waited decades at the restaurant for Jasper.”

She understood where he was going. Realizing the extent of Y/n’s fondness for Charlie. The sparks that collided in their first meeting and continued with each encounter. 

But Bella made Y/n swear to her she’d come clean to Charlie before the year was over. Figuring out the next step though….that was a conversation for another day. 

“Well we wanted to offer our congratulations,” Charlie’s voice pulled Bella out of her thoughts, bringing her back to the present. “We know a lot of people wish to do the same, so we won’t hold you up.”

“Thank you, dad,” Bella let go of her husband to embrace her father, moving to Y/n to do the same while Edward shook Charlie’s hand. “And thank you, Y/n.” 

“Of course. It’s not every day your favorite nephew gets married.”

“Don’t let Emmett hear that,” Edward jokes, smirking when he hears his brother’s thought from across the dance floor, ‘I heard that!!’

At that moment the beat of TLC’s ‘Baby-Baby-Baby’ starts to play, prompting Y/n to tug on Charlie’s hand. “Now this is my song. C’mon doll face, let’s show them how it’s done.” Flushing red, Charlie downs the rest of his beer, handing the empty glass to Edward--who winks at him while Bella holds back a giggle, and follows his girlfriend to the dance floor. Joining Carlisle and Esme, and Billy and Sue. 

“You know,” Edward leans down to whisper, grinning as he takes in the scene of his aunt and Bella’s father dancing. “I would’ve never guessed your dad would be the one to ground the infamous Y/n Cullen.” 

“Baby, baby, baby

I got so much love in me

Oh baby, baby

Baby, baby, baby

'Cause if you gonna get me off

You got to love me deep”

Tilting her head back with laughter, Bella nuzzles into his touch, admiring the scene as well when she brings her gaze down again. “I never thought I’d see the day Charlie Swan gets sweeped off his feet. By the Doctor’s sister nonetheless.”

“Baby, baby, baby

I got so much love in me

Oh baby, baby

Baby, baby, baby

'Cause if you gonna get me off

You got to love me deep”

Chuckling, Edward leans his head on hers, “They make a good pair. Don’t they?”

She agrees with a hum, “They do.” Bella adjusts their position, so they are now facing each other on the dance floor, swaying to TLC like everyone else. Mouthing along to the words and at one point meeting Y/n’s eyes. The two share a wholesome look, igniting a loving wink from the vampire to the human girl's nod of respect. 

“I can have any man that I want to

Time and place that I choose to

But I think you know that I would rather be here with you, yeah.”