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write-tama · 1 year ago

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"hank.. what am i feeling right now?"

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ connor anderson (4k800) x officer!reader

sypnosis ; connor is very interested in an officer who just joined the police force. after being told the news that they would be joining the team, connor just had to make an acquaintance with them. anything to hear their voice.

containing ; use of you/yours and they/them pronouns! connor struggling to process emotions. hank being a proud father.

author’s note ; hihi! havent written for connor in SO long so i thought this was a cute little way of them meeting each other. connor is a

04.12.24 | 1.9k words

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everyone knew about the infamous RK800.

The last most developed and intelligent android produced by Cyberlife.

A machine built to hunt its prey and to always accomplish his mission.

But now?

A confused man sitting at his desk, elbows on the surface as he ran the fourth diagnostic this morning.

Connor was never really taught how to feel his emotions, considering that he was forced to compress them from the moment he was made. If he were to feel any sort of emotion, it was either to the scrap factory for him or a hard lecture from Amanda.

But Amanda was gone, and androids were free to express any emotion they pleased.

It’s been weeks since Markus hit the headlines for his famous android revolution. He worked with the government extensively to pass bills in order to settle android rights for the country. Connor, on the other hand, continued to work with the DPD as a full-on detective under the supervision of Liutenant Hank Anderson. Hank was more than just a coworker, but a father figure to Connor. And that brought Connor joy, an emotion Connor was well aquainted of.

But not the feeling he was experiencing now.

Connor couldn’t get his mind off a certain someone who had joined the team a bit before the revolution. You had joined a week prior, and honestly, you were kind of regretting it. As android and human tensions rose, you were on duty 24/7. Originally, you were supposed to start easy with basic patrol around a part of a city, but because you were so impatient in doing the “big kid stuff” you found yourself frequently in the middle of the android and human discourse. Your shifts nearly lasted twelve hours, and you would be absolutely exhausted.

Things are different now. Sure, there were still some situations between the two sides, but it was definitely peace compared to literal boycotts. You sat at your desk idly scrolling through your past cases, making sure that all the information was correct and accurate. On the other side of your desk was a tablet full of notes you had taken after some cases you had to deal with. What you didn’t notice was the android detective constantly glancing at you, watching your every move to see if maybe, at some point, you would notice him.

A loud groan echoing from the desk in front of Connor made him jump, immediately turning his attention to his lieutenant taking a seat in his chair. “Fucking hell..” Hank sighed. “Fowler does nothing but my bust my balls these days, huh?” Connor stared at his partner with his hands folded in his lap and eyebrows furrowed.

“Is everything okay, Lieutenant?” Connor asked, tilting his head.

“It’s nothing too serious. Fowler just wants me to take the rookie on our next homicide case. He insisted that they would be a perfect addition to the team or whatever.” Hank groaned. “Now I’m responsible for two of you fucks.”

Connor, admittedly, felt his thirium pump racing. You? As part of the team? It was almost like he could overheat and shutdown momentarily right now. “I think they would be a great addition to the team.” Connor stated, biting back from smiling. “They have an excellent track record of solving cases in an orderly and timely manner, has caught every perpretrator with their undercover skills, and had a reputation back in their training classes as one of the top students.” He explained. Hank looked over as he was slouched in his seat with arms folded across his chest.

“Jesus, Connor, you sound like some creep searching up their name on Google.” Hank scoffed, half smiling. Though this caught Connor a little off— was he being creepy? He didn’t want to leave a bad impression on you, especially now that you're about to meet for the first time. His face scrunched up in anxiety, feeling as if he made a mistake. Hank immediately took notice and sat up. “Ah— I was just joking, Connor. I’m sure you have uh.. Good intentions.” Hank reassured, though he never said he was exactly good at it.

Hank looked over to you, seeing that you were preoccupied with work despite the fact you haven’t been on a case in a few days now. Hank looked at Connor. “Well.. Why don’t you introduce yourself to them.” Hank suggested, nodding his head over to you.

Connor immediately jolted his head up, a little wide-eyed to even suggest such. “O-Of course.” Connor stuttered out. Connor never stuttered, and though Hank was in a mood after his exchange with Fowler, he certainly didn’t leave that unnoticed.

“Did you just stutter?” Hank asked, a little amused. “Are you.. Nervous?”

“Of course not, Lieutenant,” Connor replied as steadily as possible. “I am an android.”

“Connor.”

“Yes?” Connor replied, mindlessly.

“You’re a deviant, for fucks sake.”

“Oh.”

Connor, to avoid anymore embarassment from the man he deemed his father figure, swiftly got up and started to approach you. Hank watched in pure amusement, not even wanting to stop the boy from probably embarassing himself even further, but at least Hank had some faith in him. He is Detroit’s best god damn detective.

“Hello, Officer (l/n). My name is Connor. It is nice to meet you.” Connor said, putting his hand out for a shake. You looked up from your computer screen only to be met with the most chocolate eyes you’ve ever had the privilege of being in the prescence of. He smiled politely, but behind that smile he thanked Elijah that androids could not sweat, otherwise you would’ve felt the claminess of his palm.

You took his hand and shook it firmly. “A pleasure to make your aquaintance. My name is (y/n).” You smiled generously, and wow, did Connor felt like his pump couldn’t get any faster.. He cleared his throat before darting his eyes to the unoccupied chair that sat next to your desk.

“May I?” Connor asked, gesturing towards the seat.

“Of course, I’m not doing much anyway.” You nodded. Connor took a seat, and for some reason, he struggled to even maintain his balance as he sat himself down. He nearly had to think about how to fold his hands before placing them firmly on his laps and looking at you. Thankfully, you barely realized any sort of struggle as you looked away to take a swig of your morning coffee.

“So..” you said, clasping your hands. “Am I in trouble or anything?” you joked. Connor immediately shot his head up, worried he had made the wrong impression.

“Oh, no— I—” Before Connor could sputter out an explanation, you tilted your head a little and started laughing.

“Relax! I was just kidding!” You playfully waved off. Connor’s shoulders immediately relaxed as a breath he didn’t even know he was holding back escaped his lips. You looked at him curiously, a smile still resting on your face.

“I’m sorry. Usually, I am not like this.” He said, shaking his head a little in embarassment. He was always on his A game and constantly prepared. Why were you the reason for this disruption. “I.. Uh..” He couldn’t think of anymore to say. Suddenly, he got a message through his LED.

NEW MESSAGE:

HANK: tell them u think theyre pretty.

Connor blinked a bit, registering the text message. Hank was at a perfect view watching this unfold. The back of your head was visible but he could see all of Connor’s reactions, who desperately tried to maintain a polite smile.

“I think you’re very pretty, (y/n).” Connor complimented.

“Oh— ah—” A subtle blush began to form on your cheeks as your eyes widen a little, not expecting a compliment from a handsome android such as Connor. “Why thank you, Connor. I wasn’t expecting that as our first conversation.” You chuckled a little. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

Thirium was rushing through his circuits and to his cheeks. The faintest color of blue appeared dusted on his face. “Thank you.” He maintained a calm, neutral voice. They stared at each other for a minute, sort of registering the sort of corny first conversation the two of you had.

“Ah.. I almost forgot to mention.” Connor snapped back to reality. “I came here to introduce myself sfter I heard that you were joining our team on our next investigation. It’s good to make an aquaintance with our future team member.” Connor smiled politely.

“Why thank you. I am very excited to work with you and Lieutenant Anderson.” You nodded. “Though I will miss working with Gavin and Chris’ team.”

Ah, that’s right. You used to work with Gavin. It almost left a bad taste in Connor’s mouth knowing that Gavin probably spat some awful opinions about him to you. Though from the looks of it, you were enjoying your conversation with him which eased him.

“I promise we will a provide a welcoming and safe space in our team, and of course, to make sure you don’t come into harms way.” Connor assured. Though he was mainly promising this to you personally. God forbids Connor seeing you get hurt.

“Why thank you, Connor.” You said, tilting your head. Connor was rather intriguing to you— an android acting this way around you. His LED constantly switched between yellow and blue as if he was making sure to process every word you uttered. Yet he was so human— he would scratch the back of his neck, fidget with his fingers, and shuffle a bit in his seat. You would think someone as advanced as him would at least be able to have a composure, but he was different. It was something you admired about him.

“(l/n), in my office!” Captain Fowler called from the balcony of his room. You looked over to Connor before sighing.

“Well, boss is calling me. I’ll talk to you afterwards?” You suggested as you stood from your seat.

“Of course.” Connor replied, shielding his excitement. He stood up from his chair as well. “I’d be happy to talk again, (y/n).”

“Likewise.” You winked. With that, you left your desk and headed straight to Fowler’s office. Connor stood shellshocked. Did you just.. Wink at him?! Connor’s eyes slowly drifted to Hank, who was chuckling heartily. He gave Connor an assuring thumbs up as Connor made his way back to their desks.

“You’d be a shit detective if this is how you acted all the time.” Hank snickered. Connor grinned a little before taking a seat back at his desk.

“I know.” Connor sighed, leaning a little back in his chair. He at you through the glass walls, noticing your upright posture and the way you listened intently to Captain Fowler’s words. He looked over to Hank before thinning his lips.

“Lieutenant?” Connor asked.

“What is it, son?”

“What am I.. Feeling right now?” Connor asked, a little lost on how to explain it. “I can only think about them— only envision them when I close my eyes. I get nervous and its like my programming has reduced to 0s and 1s.” He sighed, hell, even a little frustrated that you had this affect on him.

Hank with a wide smile, shook his head and looked at Connor with a knowing stare. Connor looked up, both lost while desperate for an answer and maybe even a cure. Hank sat up and made sure to look at Connor right in the yes.

“Connor,” Hank sighed, grinning. “Son, that feeling your experiencing is called love. And your plastic ass better get used to it.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

thank you so much for reading towards the end ! im sorry if its a little messy-- i quickly had to post this before hanging out w some friends but i just wanted to get this out of the way rq! reblogs, replies, and even likes are so so appreciated <3

#detroit become human #connor detroit become human #connor x reader #connor x you #connor rk800 #connor dbh x reader #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #rk800 x reader #dbh #detroit become human fanfics #hank anderson #connor anderson #4k800 #connor 4k800 x reader #dbh 4k800 #4k800 x reader

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lundenloves · 2 years ago

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dad!simon masterlist | taglist | masterlist | request info

dad!simon who will near fall asleep on the sofa, sat upright with wide legs and his arms crossed, only opening one eye to pretend he’s listening while one of his daughters rambles about school drama.

dad!simon who scoffs when another monthly subscription or amazon payment goes through his card, brows knitted together after asking just why the house has to be subscribed to four separate streaming services.

dad!simon who never remembers his kids’ friends names. it could be his daughters best friend of seven years and he still wouldn’t remember.

dad!simon who visually could not care less about the gossip his daughter waffles about, mumbling “mhm” every so often to appear engaged though shrugging when called out on his evident boredom.

dad!simon who tsks at all the parcels that come through the door day-to-day. living with three daughters and a wife, it’s constant. he detests being the only one home and having to sign for something — will actively ignore a knock on the door when there’s other people in the house.

dad!simon who (when drunk) is the height of amusement for his eldest. many snapchats exist of him being handed the phone already recording and goofily grinning into it while looking up at her “what am i supposed to be looking at?”

dad!simon who sticks post-it notes in bold handwriting to the fridge whenever anyone has an appointment due the following day. “don’t forget.” complete with a fullstop and a harsh underline of the time in military digits.

dad!simon who replies sarcastically to almost every obvious question with his natural glare, something each of his kids had genetically taken: “don’t ask stupid questions and you won’t get stupid answers.” he loves them really.

dad!simon who silenced the family groupchat as soon as he had figured out how to, only replying every other day with a thumbs up reaction or more likely a thumbs down.

dad!simon who side eyes his kids. he doesn’t mean it, yet it happens. watching throw away tv? side eye. talking too loud on the phone? side eye. wearing a questionable outfit? side eye.

dad!simon who has a firm routine. he fucking detests being interrupted, and or spoken to from the hours of five till seven in the morning. he’ll get up, have food and go to the gym all in this time frame before anyone can dent his peace.

dad!simon who sighs avidly. a long and painful sigh after any merely simple question is asked or he’s to pick up one of his kids from a night out. “fucking well told ‘er not to expect me past twelve.” while accidentally slamming the door behind him, keys jingling around his finger.

dad!simon who struggles to show affection in any other way than a short pat of the shoulder or a one armed hug, pulling his kids into his chest for mere seconds before stepping back.

dad!simon who groans whenever anything gets moved in the house. his military mind in favour of keeping things in one position, untouched and moved for preferably ever unless he was told. though, having kids didn’t quite work like that.

dad!simon who: “do i ‘av to do fucking everything in this house? eh?”

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @maki-z @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffeee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @bubbyblob

˗ˏˋ university is still kicking my arse into next week. i joined the football team too, fuck knows why i’m making myself busier than i have to be. alas here we are, and i’m feeding the pigeons! aka sprinkling dad headcannons until i get traction again. pls love me, pls follow me, pls reblog, pls validate me.

the reason i tag this as ‘x reader’ as it’s ur fuckin family with him. no one bite my head off man i can’t be bothered tonight.

#simon ghost riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mw fanfiction #simon riley #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley headcanons #dad!simon #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley headcanons

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heartmix · 5 months ago

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I Love It - MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x driver!reader

Word Count: 900+

Warning: named your pet dog, bear. Tempted to name the dog after my dog.

Twelve Fics of Christmas - Secret Santa

A/N: zhou FINALLY got a good gift this year!

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

It was time for the annual paddock Secret Santa the F1 social team did with all the drivers. Honestly, you loved it. For the past few years, you got people you know pretty well so it was always easy to get gifts. You were one of the drivers who opted for meaningful and useful gifts instead of the silly ones, Zhou has gotten one too many Valtteri Bottas calendars.

This year you pulled Max. Despite being so close, with you getting him a gift for Christmas every year anyway, you never pulled his name. You went back and forth if you should finally do a silly gift and save his real present for Christmas day. Your heart wouldn't allow you to do that and opted for both gifts to be sentimental.

Max on the other hand pulled your name and to say he was freaking out was an understatement. He was also one to get you a present every year. It was always simple with a new purse or perfume, but he knew he couldn't pull that off for this silly video. He wanted to make this one special.

As the weeks crept up you thought of the perfect gift, a neon sign with his cats' names on it so he could set it up by his streaming set-up. Sassy's name was red while Jimmy's name was blue, red bull colors of course. It was perfect and you happily handed it to the social media manager to give to him, excited to see his reaction when the video came out.

Max was still freaking out. They would be exchanging gifts next week and he was still empty-handed. He was never good at gift-giving, opting for universally agreed upon "good presents." He needed to bring in reinforcement which was in the form of Daniel.

"What am I supposed to get her?!"

"I don't know why you are so stressed about this." That was a lie. Danny knew why he was stressed, he just wanted to see if Max wouldn't admit his crush.

"I want to actually give a good gift, not just some expensive thing."

"Because you like her!" Daniel said with the goofiest smile on his face. He knew his best buddy had been crushing on you for years, but this was the first time he was freaking out about something so trivial. It was just an annual video the F1 media team did. He could get you a mug and you would love it.

"Daniel don't start." He couldn't help the sigh that came out. If he liked you or not he still wanted to get a decent gift. Maybe he was stressing too much, but he couldn't help it.

"Okay okay. What does she like?"

"Music, sports, movies, animal-" As Max went on Daniel couldn't help but roll his eyes. Maybe that wasn't the right question to ask. He should've known to be more specific or the Dutchman would talk his ears off about you for hours.

"I'm going to stop you right there. Let me ask again. What does she love most in this world."

"Her dog," Max said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Okay get her something relating to her dog."

A huge grin slowly made its way onto Max's face, "I got it! thanks, Daniel!" Before Daniel could respond the facetime call ended.

When it was Max's turn to hand in his present he couldn't help but do it with a smile. Since he was stressing so much he didn't have much time to get it ready, but nothing a little money to rush the order couldn't help. Just like you, he can't wait for the reaction to be posted.

"Okay, here you go." the media personnel said handing you the gift as the camera was rolling.

"I can't wait." You excitedly said tearing open the wrapping paper.

As you tore open the gift you couldn't help the smile that broke out on your face, as you slapped a hand over your mouth in shock. "oh my god!"

"What is it?"

"It's a painting of my dog, bear! He's sitting in my car!" You happily flipped the painting to show the camera. "Max pulled my name?" You asked which shocked the people behind the camera at how fast you guessed.

"How did you know?"

"I just know." You said with the biggest smile running your hands all over the picture. "Did you give him his gift yet?"

"Yeah, we did him before you."

"I need to go find him." You rushed out before they needed anything else from you.

"Max!" You called out his name. Before he could process who called him you tackled him in a hug almost making him trip.

"Woah, what's all of this for." He chuckled wrapping his arm around you to brace the both of you.

Slowly you pulled away from him holding the painting up with glee, "I love my gift, it's the best thing I ever got."

At this, he couldn't help but smile as he could feel heat rush right to his cheeks. You loved the gift. He swears your smile was bigger over the gift than your first win. Or maybe he was tricking himself into thinking that. Either way, you loved your gift and that's the reaction he was hoping for.

"Looks like you're not the only good gift giver on the grid." He nudged your shoulder earning a giggle.

"How did you even think to get this?"

Now it was your turn for your cheeks to heat up. "Well some of the best gifts I ever got are based around my cats so I took a page out of your book."

"Well I love it, thank you." Again you pulled him into a hug not knowing what else to say besides thank you. If Secret Santa earned him this type of hug, he hoped to pull your name every year.

"Anytime Schatje."

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1

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bosbas · 3 months ago

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Chapter 6: oh, my, love is a lie

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!daphne's best friend!reader WC: 1.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love, mentions of pregnancy, dual pov so it might be confusing sorryyyyy

Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)

A/N: sorry this is a shorter one but it made more sense to divide it up this way! already working on the next chapter so dw <3

July 8, 1812 - “I beg your pardon?”

Daphne paled. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean-“ she started, choking up immediately. “It’s not-”

“I. Beg. Your. Pardon?” asked Anthony again, his voice steely.

“It’s not like that anymore though, I swear!” cried Daphne, desperate to fix this. “She’s definitely in love with you!”

“She told you this?”

“Well… not exactly,” Daphne finished lamely, not quite sure what to do in this situation. Lying would have probably made it worse at this point, and Daphne wasn’t entirely sure that you’d come to understand your feelings yet.

Shaking his head, Anthony turned to leave the room. “I must go,” he said forcefully, the ire evident in his voice.

---

You stood up as a smile uncontrollably made its way to your lips as you heard the door to your sunroom open, but it dropped just as quickly when you saw that Anthony was furious.

He didn't even bother to greet you as was dictated by social norms. He just stood in the room, breathing heavily and glaring at you as you stood across from him.

“Is it true?” he asked finally, poison dripping from his voice.

You offered him only a perplexed look, not entirely sure what he was referring to but having an excellent idea.

“What Daphne just told me. That you were never interested in me,” he continued, his eyes two angry slits as he stared you down menacingly.

“No, that’s not exactly-”

“So she was lying, then. You didn’t start courting me just to help her find a match,” he said, his voice softening just the tiniest bit.

Your face felt hot, and in fact, the whole room felt far too hot. You looked at Anthony uncomfortably as he waited for your answer.

“No, she wasn’t lying,” you said finally, sounding defeated. “I- I’m so sorry, Anthony. But you have to know I never meant for it to go this far, I just so caught up and I- I just didn’t…” you cut yourself off, too emotional to continue speaking.

Tears rolled freely down your cheeks as you asked yourself, how had everything gotten so messed up? A mere twelve hours ago you were in his arms, having just had the most magical night of your life.

Anthony could only blink at you as he felt his heart drop. He should’ve known this was too good to be true. Of course you weren’t truly interested in him. He didn’t know why he was so surprised.

He supposed he had to hate you now. No one had ever hurt him in this manner, mostly because he hadn’t ever let anyone in as much as he had with you.

But he was still a Bridgerton. And Bridgertons acted with honor. There was a chance you were pregnant, and he was not about to leave you stranded when you were in such a precarious societal position.

Anthony swallowed roughly, trying to gather the courage to speak as though he was unbothered. “Very well, then. I suppose not much can be done about that now. I will speak to your father at once and we can get married next week.”

Your eyebrows shot up. What on earth was he on about? “You can’t marry me,” you said firmly.

He couldn’t. You couldn’t do that to him. You had already hurt him enough.

Anthony sighed in annoyance. “Yes, I can. I will marry you because I am an honorable man. Not for any singular other reason. My reputation is-”

You scoffed, “Oh, what reputation, Anthony? Everyone already thinks you’re the biggest rake in the ton. No one would be surprised by one more conquest, so why are you so insistent that we marry?”

So this is what you truly thought of him, thought Anthony. It was no wonder you didn't feel the same for him as he did for you.

“Because I have respect for you!" he shot back. “Though I can see you have none for me. But that is just fine. I never asked for it, and I don’t need it. All I need is for my family to remain in good standing and for your hand in marriage.”

“I will do no such thing,” you said, scandalized.

“But what if you are with child?” Anthony replied, growing more and more exasperated.

“I am not with child.”

“You cannot possibly know that!”

“I can hope.”

Anthony’s jaw dropped. “How can you say that? After everything we went through?”

Sure, he had never felt pain this intensely in his life. And sure, it was your fault. But he was still shocked that you could wish for such a thing. This only further confirmed his fears that what he felt for you was wildly disproportionate to what you felt for him.

You sniffed, “Look where we are now, Anthony. You hate—me and rightfully so, might I add. So no, I do not wish to have a child with a man who despises me. It’s quite simple really.”

More than that, you didn't think you deserved to marry someone so kind. Someone so loving and perfect. And because you loved Anthony so much you would have rather seen him with someone who hadn't started a courtship with him as a ploy than have him end up with you.

“But you will be ruined!” he pressed.

“Then so be it,” you said decidedly, your voice wavering slightly.

But Anthony was having none of it. It was bad enough that you had completely shattered his heart, you were extremely stubborn when he was trying to do the right thing.

“For heaven’s sake, Y/N. If you will not do it for me or yourself at least do it for my family. For yours.”

“You know my father does not care what I do,” you started, but you knew it was a lost battle. Anthony was right. The Bridgerton family would surely suffer if you had his child out of wedlock, and that was the last thing you wanted. You had harmed them enough already.

But you weren’t ready to completely give up just yet.

“Very well,” you relented. “I see your point, but my courses are due next week. We can put off the proposal by a week, surely?”

Anthony pinched his nose, feeling a headache of annoyance coming on. Why did he have to fall for the most infuriating woman in the ton? The only person who was sure to challenge him whenever possible?

“Yes, we can wait a week,” he asserted.

A week couldn’t come soon enough. Though Anthony’s heart was broken, he couldn’t help the small part of him that was holding out hope for you to miss your courses.

Surely you could learn to love him if you were with child. It would give him the opportunity to try his best to make you love him back, which would likely be easier if you were already married to him. It wasn’t ideal, of course, but it gave him hope.

This wasn’t over yet. It couldn’t be. He was still in love with you, and perhaps with time, you could come to love him too.

—

previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

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mapis-putellas · 3 months ago

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𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅/𝑽.𝑴𝒊𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒂

Just a little something for my Vivi <3

Viv hadn’t told you she was sick. You had to hear it from Jill, who casually dropped it into conversation like it wasn’t something that would make your heart clench with worry.

“Yeah, she’s been looking awful all day,” Jill had said over the phone. “Coughing, sniffling. Honestly, I don’t even know how she made it through training.”

Your grip on your phone had tightened. “She trained?”

Jill snorted. “Of course she did. You know what she’s like.”

You did. Stubborn. Independent. Unwilling to admit when she needed help. It was just your Vivi, and whilst you were used to it, it definitely didn’t mean you liked it.

“She didn’t tell me,” you muttered, feeling a little annoyed now.

“She probably didn’t want to worry you,” Jill said, voice softer. “But she looks miserable.”

That was all you needed to hear.

You booked a flight that night.

Viv was exhausted. Training had been brutal, and she felt like absolute shit. Her whole body ached, her sinuses were a mess, and her throat felt like she’d swallowed glass. Still, she’d forced herself through the day, unwilling to let something as minor as a cold slow her down. But all she wanted now was to collapse into bed and preferably sleep for the next twelve hours.

What she didn’t expect was to find you there, sitting cross-legged on her bed, arms folded across your chest looking less than happy.

She froze in the doorway, blinking in surprise. “…Liefje?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Hi, baby.”

Her brain struggled to process the sight of you. You were supposed to be in Manchester. Not in her hotel room. Not staring at her like she’d just been caught committing a crime. Which, in a way, she supposed she had.

“You’re here,” she said, dumbly.

“I am,” you agreed, tilting your head. “You, on the other hand, should not have been at training today.”

Viv swallowed. “Ah.”

“Ah?” you repeated, unimpressed. “That’s all you have to say?”

Viv shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

You sighed, standing up and making your way over to her. Up close, she looked even worse. Her face was pale, cheeks flushed with fever, and her eyes were glassy behind her glasses. You reached out, pressing the back of your hand to her forehead.

“Vivianne,” you murmured, your voice softer now. “You’re burning up.”

She leaned into your touch without thinking, her shoulders sagging.

“You should’ve told me,” you said, threading your fingers through her hair and tucking it behind her ear.

She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. “Didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

You sighed again, but you didn’t argue. This was just how Viv was. Stubborn to a fault.

“You hungry?” you asked instead, nudging her toward the bed.

She shook her head. “Just tired.”

You guided her to sit down before kneeling to untie her shoes. She protested weakly, but you ignored her, pulling them off and then stripping off her socks too.

“You don’t have to do that,” she murmured, watching you with tired eyes.

“I know.” You pulled her legs onto the bed, tucking them under the covers before crawling in beside her. “But I want to.”

Viv exhaled, shifting so she could rest her head against your chest. “I missed you.” She murmured, throwing an arm around your waist.

You pressed a kiss to the top of her head as you gently pulled off her glasses, placing them on the night stand closest to you. “I missed you too, baby.”

Her arms tightened around you, and she buried her face in your neck with a little sigh “Mijn liefje,” she mumbled.

Your softened a little, despite yourself. “Ik hou van jou, Viv.”

She hummed, already half-asleep. “Ik hou van jou, Liefje.”

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

#viv miedema x reader #viv miedema #vivianne miedema #woso community #woso x reader #woso appreciation #woso imagine #fluff #woso fanfics #woso one shot

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octuscle · 2 months ago

Text

Gym Motivation

Patrick put his iPhone in position and started the recording “Hello everyone! Today is leg day at the gym. I got this new energy drink to try from the cute guy at reception, let's see if it helps me. Darlings, let's start with one of my favorite exercises, the adduction on the adductor machine.”

Patrick took a big gulp from the water bottle and held the label up to the camera with his usual skill and randomness. He set the machine, selected his usual warm-up weight and smashed the elements together with a loud crash. “Darlings, I seem to have a little too much energy today. Let's up the weight a bit!” Patrick increased the weight. And increased it again. And again. Finally he found some resistance. At last the weight was high enough that he could only manage the eighth repetition of the set with the greatest effort. With a loud groan, he pressed the plates together one last time. “Guys, now the adductors are burning!” He took a swig from the bottle. “Fucking awesome stuff, guys, I'm telling you!” Patrick pulled up his trouser legs and tensed his thigh muscles. “So, not bad, is it? But let's not kid ourselves, this is a pussy exercise. On to my favorite, the leg press.”

Patrick went to the next machine, put the camera in position, put on 200 kg and sat down in position. “Guys, it's a warm-up weight of course, but first I'd like to give you a few tips on how to do it properly…” Patrick deliberately lifted the weight casually, lectured on the correct position of the head and back and then stood up to put on another 200 kg “No pain, no fun, right guys?” He sat back down in the leg press and moved the weight, his face contorted in pain. The weight dropped with a crash after the 12th repetition. “And now 10 repetitions with 500 kg! Let the babies burn! Fuuuuuuuck!” As Patrick finished the third set, one of the big guys from the gym came over and gave Patrick a respectful fist bump. His slim body had already visibly pumped up. Patrick showed off his impressive pumped up thighs and stroked the tattoos on his calf. “Bros, we'll do the calves next time. Now let's take care of the muscle that isn't called a gladiator bro for nothing: the gluteus maximus. On to the Romanian squats. Let's not kid ourselves: We real guys prefer working with dumbbells to machines anyway, am I right?” Patrick grabbed a barbell, put some weight on it and performed the squats in exemplary fashion. “Yo, bros, listen up! No hunching that back, got it? Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Fuuuuck!” Patrick took another sip. His forehead was covered in sweat. He took his towel, wiped off the sweat and said, “Yo, legs are crucial, my dudes! Don’t be that guy who skips leg day. But for real, we all know pumping these babies is way more fun, am I right?” He made his pecs dance. “Bro, every pump needs to be a blast and a grind, you feel me? Let’s hit that bench press, man!”

None of his live videos were supposed to last longer than an hour. None of his pumping bros followed him for longer. For TikTok, he would cut it down to a five-minute reel. He didn't need to show the adductor shit in particular, that was more to satisfy the few female followers…

“Sick pump today, bro! Hope I got you pumped to lift some weight as well!” He held the bottle up to the camera. “Yo, not sure if this rad stuff did anything, but it definitely didn't hurt, bro.” Patrick took one last swig from the bottle and reached for the camera: “Yo, dig in, bros! Catch ya tomorrow. Then we’ll get those biceps pumpin’!” And he switched off the camera.

Darren at reception smiled contentedly as Patrick, one of the gym's promotional figures, left the studio. The two said goodbye with a high five. Darren already knew what this gym needed: more pumpers and fewer wannabe fitness models.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #ai image #tank top #bro tf #broification #jockification #nerd to jock

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sleepberries · 18 days ago

Note

Hiii!!! How you doing? I hope ok!!

Hear me out on a spideyhood fic =Peter parker purrs

Cause some spiders like the wolf spider makes a sort of purring noise to attract mates waht if peter did it when hes happy or comfortable?

Let me now what you think hope you have a wonderfull day💖💖

My baby^^ (i love spiders so much☺️)

hehe yes ofc !! i've thrown some tidbits of peter purring through the series so far, but here's an actual fic for it 🙇‍♂️ i hope to explore more of peter's more spidery traits in the future !!

The Sound of Contentment

Jason was absolutely certain that he was hallucinating.

It had been a long night—the kind that left bruises blooming beneath his armor and fatigue settling deep in his bones. Patrol had run later than expected, a weapons shipment requiring more firepower than he'd anticipated. By the time he dragged himself through his apartment window at 3 AM, all he wanted was a hot shower and about twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep.

What he found instead was Peter Parker sprawled across his couch, fast asleep with one of Jason's dog-eared paperbacks open on his chest. This wasn't unusual—Peter had a habit of appearing in Jason's apartment at odd hours, usually with takeout or some crisis that needed talking through. What was unusual was the sound coming from him.

A low, gentle rumbling that rose and fell with each breath.

Jason froze halfway through removing his helmet, convinced his exhausted brain was playing tricks on him. He set the helmet down carefully on the counter and moved closer to the couch, tilting his head to listen.

There it was again. A soft, rhythmic vibration that sounded suspiciously like... purring?

"What the hell?" Jason muttered, leaning closer.

Peter shifted in his sleep, the book sliding dangerously toward the edge of his chest. Jason caught it before it could fall, marking the page out of habit before setting it on the coffee table. The movement stirred Peter, his eyelids fluttering.

The purring stopped abruptly.

"Mmm... Jason?" Peter mumbled, blinking owlishly up at him. "You're back. What time is it?"

"Late," Jason answered, still staring at him with narrowed eyes. "Or early, depending on how you look at it."

Peter yawned, stretching his arms above his head in a motion that was distinctly feline for someone supposed to have spider-based abilities. "Sorry for crashing. I was waiting for you and must've fallen asleep."

"Were you purring?" Jason asked bluntly.

Peter's sleepy expression snapped into sudden, wide-eyed alertness. "What? No. That's—why would you—that's ridiculous."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "You were making a noise."

"I was snoring," Peter said quickly. Too quickly. "I snore sometimes. May used to complain about it when I'd fall asleep on the couch during movie nights."

"That wasn't snoring," Jason insisted. "I know what snoring sounds like. Dick sounds like a chainsaw when he sleeps. That was..." He searched for the right word. "...vibrating."

Color crept up Peter's neck to his cheeks. "Must've been the heating system. Or your refrigerator. Those things make weird noises sometimes."

Jason crossed his arms, wincing slightly at the pull of a fresh bruise. "My refrigerator doesn't follow your breathing pattern, Parker."

Peter sat up, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Look, can we pretend this conversation isn't happening? I'm still mostly asleep and you look like you've been hit by a truck, so maybe we should both just... go to bed and forget about this."

"Fine," Jason said after a moment, too tired to push it. "But this isn't over."

Peter's relieved smile was worth letting it go. For now.

"You're the best," Peter said, standing and stretching again. "I'll take the couch. You look like you need a real bed more than I do."

Jason nodded, already heading for the shower. "There's leftover pizza in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Already found it," Peter called after him.

Of course he had.

Jason didn't forget.

For the next two weeks, he paid closer attention when they were together, watching for any signs of the strange sound he'd heard that night. But Peter seemed to be on his guard, carefully maintaining control even when they were relaxed together.

It wasn't until movie night at Jason's apartment—Peter's choice, some science fiction film with questionable physics but decent explosions—that Jason got his second clue.

They were on Jason's couch, Peter tucked against his side with Jason's arm draped casually around his shoulders. The film had hit a quieter moment, the protagonist having an emotional revelation about the nature of time or existence or whatever—Jason had lost track about twenty minutes in, more focused on the warm weight of Peter against him.

And there it was again—so faint he almost missed it. That gentle rumbling vibration.

Jason went very still, not wanting to alert Peter that anything was different. He concentrated on keeping his breathing even, his posture relaxed, while straining to hear the sound better.

Definitely purring. It was subtle, more felt than heard, a continuous vibration that seemed to emanate from deep in Peter's chest. It had a strangely soothing quality, like the distant rumble of summer thunder.

Fascinated, Jason experimentally tightened his arm around Peter's shoulders, pulling him a fraction closer.

The purring intensified slightly.

Interesting.

Jason waited a few more minutes, then slowly, deliberately, began running his fingers through Peter's hair—something he'd done before, knowing how Peter leaned into the touch like it was the best thing he'd ever felt.

The effect was immediate. The purring grew stronger, and Peter melted against him, eyes half-closing in apparent bliss.

"You're not watching the movie," Peter murmured, though he made no attempt to move away from Jason's touch.

"The movie's boring," Jason replied, continuing the gentle motion of his fingers through Peter's hair. "This is more interesting."

Peter made a noncommittal noise, then seemed to realize what was happening. The purring cut off abruptly, and he tensed under Jason's arm.

"You're doing it again," Jason said, keeping his voice neutral.

Peter sighed, defeated. "Damn it."

"So, purring," Jason said, fighting to keep the amusement out of his voice. "That's a new one. I thought your whole thing was spider-based."

Peter groaned, burying his face in Jason's shoulder. "It is. But apparently some spiders make vibrations to communicate. I didn't know I could do it until... well, I didn't know until someone pointed it out."

"Someone besides me?"

"Gwen noticed it first," Peter admitted. "Back when we were together. She thought it was cute."

"But you don't," Jason guessed, noting the embarrassment in Peter's voice.

Peter lifted his head to look at Jason, his expression a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. "It's weird. It's one more thing that makes me not... normal."

The way he said "normal" made something twist in Jason's chest. He knew that feeling too well—the sense of being fundamentally different, marked by experiences that separated you from everyone else.

"Normal is overrated," Jason said, meeting Peter's gaze steadily. "And for the record, I don't think it's weird."

"No?" Peter looked skeptical.

"No," Jason confirmed. Then, because he couldn't resist, "I think it's hilarious."

Peter punched his arm, but there was no real force behind it. "Jerk."

"Your jerk," Jason corrected, resuming the gentle motion of his fingers in Peter's hair. "Now purr for me, bug boy."

"Spiders aren't bugs, they're arachnids," Peter said automatically, but he was already relaxing against Jason again. "And I can't just do it on command. It just... happens when I'm really comfortable or happy or... whatever."

Jason smirked. "So I make you happy, huh?"

"Don't let it go to your head," Peter muttered, but there was no heat in his words. After a moment, he added more quietly, "But yeah. You do."

Something warm unfurled in Jason's chest at that. He pressed a kiss to Peter's temple, oddly touched.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the movie playing forgotten in the background. Eventually, as Jason continued his gentle ministrations, the purring resumed—hesitant at first, then more confident when Jason didn't comment on it.

It was... nice. Soothing in a way Jason hadn't expected. The steady vibration against his side felt intimate somehow, a wordless expression of contentment that Peter couldn't hide or fake.

"I like it," Jason said finally, his voice lower than he'd intended. "The purring. It's... I like knowing you feel safe with me."

Peter looked up at him, surprise evident in his expression. Then his features softened into something warm and genuine. "I do. Feel safe with you, I mean."

Coming from someone who had spent so much of his life in danger, who carried the weight of responsibility that came with his powers, it felt like a gift—that trust, that vulnerability.

Jason tightened his arm around Peter's shoulders. "Good."

The purring grew louder, and neither of them mentioned it again that night.

After that, the purring became a regular part of their relationship—a barometer for Peter's comfort and happiness that Jason found himself listening for without even realizing it.

He discovered that certain actions were particularly effective at triggering it: running his fingers through Peter's hair, tracing patterns on his back, holding him close after a particularly harrowing patrol. The sound became a comfort to Jason too, a tangible reminder that despite everything—their dangerous lives, their complicated histories, the odds stacked against them—they had found something good together.

One afternoon, after a rare day when neither of them had responsibilities, they were sprawled on Jason's bed, Peter half on top of him, both of them drifting in and out of a lazy doze. Peter was purring steadily, the vibration rumbling against Jason's chest where Peter's head rested.

"Does anyone else know?" Jason asked suddenly, the question occurring to him for the first time. "About the purring, I mean."

Peter was quiet for a moment, the purring faltering slightly before resuming. "Gwen did. Aunt May figured it out eventually—kind of hard to hide when you fall asleep on your guardian's lap. And I think Matt noticed it during patrol once, but he was polite enough not to mention it."

"So just the people closest to you," Jason observed.

Peter nodded against his chest. "It's not something I advertise. Can you imagine if the Avengers found out? Fantastic Four? I'd never hear the end of it."

Jason smirked, imagining the reactions. "Their loss. It's cute."

"You think everything I do is cute," Peter said, the smugness in his voice unmistakable.

"Not everything," Jason countered. "Your cooking is a crime against humanity. And that dance you did when you thought you won at Mario Kart before realizing you were looking at the wrong screen? That was just sad."

Peter lifted his head to glare at him, but the effect was ruined by the lingering softness in his eyes and the fact that he was still purring. "You're the worst, you know that?"

"So you keep telling me." Jason ran a hand down Peter's back, smiling as the purring intensified in response. "And yet, here you are."

"Here I am," Peter agreed, settling back against Jason's chest. After a comfortable silence, he added, "Does it bother you? Really?"

Jason considered the question seriously. "No," he said finally. "It's just part of you. Like everything else."

He felt rather than saw Peter's smile. "Red Hood, secret softie. Who would've thought?"

"Tell anyone and I'll deny it," Jason warned, but he was smiling too. "Gotta maintain my reputation."

"Your secret's safe with me," Peter promised, the purring growing louder as he relaxed further. "Just like mine is with you."

Jason tightened his arms around Peter, feeling strangely protective of this unusual trait that Peter had trusted him with. It was one more piece of the puzzle that was Peter Parker, one more thing that made him who he was—brilliant, strange, endearing, and entirely unique.

And maybe a little bit cat-like, though Jason would never say that to his face.

"Go to sleep, Parker," Jason murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter's head. "You're keeping me awake with your engine running."

Peter's laugh vibrated against his chest, mingling with the purring in a way that Jason felt in his bones. "Your fault," Peter mumbled, already drifting off. "You started it."

As Peter's breathing evened out into sleep, the purring continuing softly, Jason found himself thinking that of all the unexpected turns his life had taken, this might be one of the strangest—and definitely one of the best. Sharing his space, his life, with someone who literally purred with contentment in his presence.

It was ridiculous. It was perfect. It was them.

And really, what more could he ask for?

#asks #my fanfic #spideyhood #jason todd x peter parker #peter parker x jason todd #dc x marvel #marvel x dc

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writingreadinglurkingandsmirking · 2 years ago

Text

Hold Me Down (Is This A New Start?) - Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: After a long, hard day of work you just want to go home and go to bed. But, when you get a persistent knock on your door from Rafe fucking Cameron. you know you’re gonna have a long night ahead. Letting him in, after two months of not seeing him, you fully anticipated a screaming match. But, you got something much different than you bargained for—much better too.

CW/TWs: brief angst, brief mentions of Rafe being on house arrest lol, feminine pronouns used, gorgeous/sweet girl/baby/darlin' as nicknames, toxic behavior, canon-adjacent Rafe, mean-ish Rafe, smut, piv sex, oral sex (male receiving), impact play, (not really) lowkey daddy kink, brat reader, dumbification, degradation kink, praise kink, overstimulation, breath play, unprotected sex (be safe I am nawt your mom gn), allusions to a pain kink for sure, mushy gushy sweet ending, not highly edited or reviewed

Words: 8.1k+

Note: 18+ MDNI, really just fucking don’t. I wrote this one in first person because writing in second person irritates my very soul. Uhhhh so this kinda came out of left field and I did nawt plan on writing this but here we are! But such is life! Anyways…back to regularly scheduled programming.

It had been a long day - too long. There was something exceedingly exhausting about living paycheck to paycheck that the average person didn’t understand. There was nothing quite as specific as the exhaustion that you encountered by overworking yourself day after day, week after week, month after month, all for nothing. Because that’s what this all amounted to. Nothing. Nothing extra at the end of the week to take home, nothing to do anything nice with. Just nothing. And nothing sucked the joy out of your day like knowing you’d have to get up the next day and do it all over again.

When I’d finally gotten home from a shift that didn’t end until almost the crack of fucking dawn - a good twelve hours after I was supposed to have gotten off shift - there was not a thing I wanted more than to sleep. Still, even as I sat on my fucking couch, my woes could not end. There was a loud, demanding knock on the door.

The first time I ignored it.

The second time I ignored it.

The third time, an annoyed voice accompanied the knock.

“Baby, open the fucking door,” came the snarl from the other side. I groaned and ran my hands down my face. I really didn’t want to deal with Rafe today. Not like that had ever deterred him before. “Baby, come on. Listen. Please. The cops are fucking trolling around outside. Baby, please open the door.”

I groaned and pulled myself to my feet, opening the apartment door. Standing there, looking at pitiful as ever was Rafe fucking Cameron. The bane of my existence. My more-or-less on-again-off-again boyfriend—though I’d sooner bash my head against the door than admit that. I glared at the ass who had done nothing but make my life harder since he’d entered it. Then, I stepped to the side and let him in. He stepped in and closed the door quickly, locking it behind him. He turned to me and pressed an absent-minded kiss to my forehead before going to sit down on the couch.

“You look like shit, darlin’,” he said. When he even had the decency to look up and notice I was there.

“Thanks,” I said dryly. I looked down at his leg. His ankle monitor looked fucked. “What the fuck did you do this time?”

“Just a little mod,” he said casually. “I needed to get out for a minute.”

“Why did you come here?” I demanded. “Did you stash more fucking coke in my house I swear to fucking God I will kill you. I am not catching a fucking charge for you, asshole.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I leave my coke with you knowing that you’d throw it out, baby? That’s just bad business. Besides, darlin’ the cops aren’t outside for me some loser is probably getting caught selling a few doors down again. And hey? It’s a crime to want to see you now, darlin’?” he asked, winking.

“No. But it is a crime to skip out on house arrest, Rafe,” I said blandly. “And I know damn well that you’re not here because you want to see me. I’m just convenient to you like fucking always.”

He rolled his eyes as if I were being the dramatic one. “What’s wrong now, gorgeous?” he drawled. “Always seems like there’s something these days, hmm?”

I clenched my jaw. “Fuck you, Rafe. Get the hell out,” I snapped.

Rafe frowned. Stood again and walked over to me. He placed his hands on my hips, refusing to leave. I, in turn, refused to look at him. “Look at me, darlin’,” he demanded. Reluctantly I did. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t answer. He brushed my hair back from my face and just kept looking at me. “Come on, sweet girl. Tell me…what’s wrong.” He smiled to himself when I still didn’t answer. “You know better than anyone I’m not going to leave until you tell me, baby…so come on…what’s wrong with my sweet girl?”

“Fuck you,” I repeated weakly, pulling out of his arms. I plopped down on my couch, curling into myself and closing my eyes. “Just fucking leave when you see the cops are gone. I can’t be bothered today.” The asshole had the audacity to laugh at my words. “Shut the fuck up, Rafe.”

Dramatically, Rafe sighed and knelt down on the ground in front of me. I felt him grab my knees and pull me to face him. I had no choice but to unfurl, otherwise, I would’ve fallen into him, which I had no interest in doing. So, I leaned back into the couch, trying to ignore the heat of his hand sinking into my cold legs through worn jeans. It was hard to ignore that. Hard to ignore any of him, really. And he knew that. That’s why he only waited through my stubborn silence for a few minutes.

“Come on, baby,” he hummed. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’m sorry I’m a dick, darlin’…you know I care.”

I laughed weakly, eyes still closed. “No. No, you don’t,” I said flatly.

He ignored my words and kept rubbing my legs. “It’s so fucking cold in here, baby,” he commented. “And your legs are freezing. Your heat not working?”

“No, it's working. It’s just too fucking expensive to heat this shitty goddamn apartment and I’m not forking over more money to the cunt landlord,” I said sharply, glaring at him. “Did you suddenly forget what life is like if—” I cut myself off, shaking my head.

He had the audacity to glare back if you could believe it. Then, he slapped my inner thigh. “I told you to call me if you needed help,” he hissed. He slapped my other thigh. “The fuck are you doing? What game are you playing at, baby?”

I pushed him away from me with my foot. “A game where I don’t need to rely on a man who is a fucking wannabe felon,” I snapped.

He rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Newsflash, baby, you do need me,” he said, sounding way too smug about it.

“Fuck you, Rafe. I need a bullet to the brain more than I need you,” I sneered.

“That’s cute.” He continued on like I didn’t even speak in the first place. “I could give you that, if you want. But that doesn’t change anything about it, darlin’. You need my money, you need my cock, you need my love. You’ve said it yourself that no one gives it to you as good as I do. And I know you haven’t been looking which means you’re still as invested in this as I am. So.” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “When I tell you if you need my fucking money to heat your stupid apartment because your ass is too stubborn to move in with me…then you fucking call me.”

“You are not my fucking father,” I snapped, pulling out of his tough.. “Like I said. Bullet to the fucking brain before this shit anymore. I’m sick of it.”

“I don’t know. You do call me daddy a lot,” he mocked. He smiled down at me, but there was hardly any warmth to it. “But, oh? You’re so sick of it, hmm? You want to be brainless?” He laughed. “Well, I can make you brainless without having to put a hole in your pretty little head.” He wound his hand tightly in my hair, pulling my face towards his while I sharply inhaled. “And you’ll remember exactly why you’re not done with me, gorgeous.”

I glared at him. “I haven’t seen you in two months. The last time I did see you, you called me a stupid, worthless cunt and told me that you never wanted to see me again. And you think you can just show up here and get me to listen to you?” I demanded. I felt my face heating with my frustration. “Just like that? You think you’re…you think you’re worth me listening to?” I laughed. “Like I said. Fuck you, Rafe. I deserve…I deserve so much better than this. Than you.”

There was a mocking pout on his face. He reached out and grabbed my face again, squeezing my chin. “You think you’re going to find someone better than me?” he asked incredulously. He let out a laugh. “And where do you think you’ll find someone like that?” I didn’t answer. I refused to give him the satisfaction. He chuckled, but then his face went serious. “I’m sorry that I haven’t seen you in months, darlin’. I’m sorry that I said I never wanted to see you again. I was pissed, sweet girl. I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh you never mean it,” I said, the sarcasm’s impact dampened by the tearful sound of my voice.

He moved his hand from my chin to cup my face. I hated myself for it, but I did lean into the touch. “Come on, sweet girl…don’t be like that, baby,” he said. He leaned forward and dropped a kiss to the side of my neck. “You know that I love you.” Another kiss, followed by a short nip. “I’ve been busy, darlin’. That’s all. I’m sorry. I should’ve called, sweet girl. I know that. I’m not mad.”

“You were mad,” I accused, glaring at him.

“I was mad, baby,” he said, deceptively calm. “I was…frustrated that you wouldn’t let me take care of you. I just want what’s best for you. But I’m not mad anymore.”

“Well maybe I’m mad at you,” I retorted, harshness still lessened by the teary voice and the way I leaned into him.

“That’s okay,” he practically cooed. He pressed another kiss to my neck then moved so we were face to face, just a breath between us. He smirked, eyes drifting down to my lips and then back up. “You can be mad at me as long as you want, sweet girl. Just as long as you tell me that you love me.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “No,” I said stubbornly.

“Come on, sweet girl, please,” Rafe purred, stroking my neck with his hand lazily. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you,” I said, voice breaking. My eyes popped open and I felt the tears in them.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes did soften. He let out a hum and wiped a tear that slipped. “There’s my sweet girl,” he cooed. He leaned forward and pressed a long, languid kiss to my lips. “Let me make it up to you, baby.” Another long kiss—lazier this time. “Let me apologize for calling you names, baby.” Another kiss. “Remind you that you’re my special, sweet girl.”

I huffed. “Oh so you wanna fuck me and suddenly I’m not a stupid, worthless cunt then?” I spat, voice dripping insecurity.

Rafe rolled his eyes so hard I was shocked that his eyes didn’t stick in the back of his head. “You’re not a stupid, worthless cunt. You’re my sweet girl and you know it,” he drawled. “I was a little fucking high when I said that. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

I gave him a withering glare. “Oh and you’re not high now?” I asked even though I could already tell he wasn’t. He gave me a flat look and I deflated, leaning back, covering my face as I leaned against the arm of the couch. I sniffled. “Okay, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean it.”

He chuckled dryly and rubbed my leg gently. “It’d be fair if you did,” he drawled. He squeezed my leg. “And it’s fine that it’s not fair, sweet girl. I wasn’t fair. So.” He grabbed my legs and lowered them both to the floor. He gently pried my legs open leaning further into my space, hands dancing up both my thighs now. “How about I be real nice and make it up to you?”

“No,” I said stubbornly, glaring half-heartedly down at him. I felt his hand toy with the waist of my jeans, dancing just over the button. “I don’t want you to.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, unconvinced considering I’d begun to lean into his space more, opening my legs to give him more space to occupy, more space to get closer. “Oh?” he posed, tone almost mocking. “You don’t want to?”

“No,” I corrected, grabbing his hand, putting it back on my hair to silently prompt him to grab it just as he did before. “I don’t want you to be nice.” I glowered at him .”It’s been two months, Rafe. I need…”

He let out a low chuckle, eyes dark with quickly emerging lust. “Fuck, darlin’, tell me…what do you need?” he asked.

I blinked slowly, still looking right into his eyes, intoxicated by him already from such a short time together. “I need you to take care of me like you always do,” I said quietly.

Immediately, his hand wound tightly through my hair and he rose to his feet, forcing me to tilt my head up. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I looked up at him, my eyes wide and wanting. I bit my lip, eyes trailing slowly down his body, to his belt at my eye level, and then back up. He chuckled again, grinning down at me. He wound his hand a bit tighter in my hair making me let out a squeak as he dragged me just a bit closer to his body.

“You need me to take care of you?” he posed, tone just shy of mocking. “Need me to help turn off that gorgeous fucking brain of yours, baby?” He used his free hand to trail down my cheek, fingers briefly touching my neck and stopping there. “Need me to fuck you stupid, sweet girl?”

Taking a shaky breath, I reached out, hand loosely holding his belt buckle. “Yes,” I said breathlessly.

I reveled in the sudden, sharp sting in my cheek. “Try again,” he warned, voice raspy.

“Yes…please fuck me stupid, daddy,” I said, batting my eyes up at him. “I don’t wanna think anymore.”

“Fuck,” Rafe muttered, his voice raspier still, thick with lust. He chuckled and loosened his hand in my hair before dropping it. He took his shirt off and then knotted a hand back in my hair. “Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of my sweet girl.” He stroked my cheek gently with his free hand before moving it to his belt buckle and undoing it with ease. He then smirked down at me, inclining his head. “Well? Take me out, darlin’.” I glanced down at his open belt but he tutted, tilting my chin back up. “No, baby. Keep your eyes on me.” His request was one that was most easy for me to accommodate considering I felt like I’d die if I looked away from him.

My hands trembled as I reached forward, taking the belt off of him. I was ready to throw it to the side but Rafe held out a hand. Without even questioning it, I placed it in his hand. He then set it to the side and gestured with his head at me to continue. Which, I happily did. I heard him let out a quiet chuckle as I undid the button on his pants and brought down the zipper without breaking eye contact. I almost hastily pulled down the fabric until it sagged the rest of the way down. I raised my eyebrows at Rafe in a silent plea.

“What, baby?” he asked, amused, tightening his grip on my hair. I let out a weak whine and pouted. “What? You gotta tell me what you want, sweet girl. Use your words.”

“I wanna see your cock,” I responded, hooking my hand on the hem of the waistband of his boxers. I tilted my head to the side, jutting my bottom lip out further. “Please, daddy.”

He let out a dark chuckle. “Okay, baby,” he drawled. I hummed, pleased with myself, and looked down, prepared to take his boxers off. But, he tutted, turning my head up with his grip on my hair so I’d meet his eyes again. “Nuh, uh, darlin’. Keep those gorgeous eyes on me still. Don’t you dare even think about looking at my cock yet, baby. Just get it out.”

“But—” I began to complain before being silenced with another warning slap on the cheek making me whine and pull back slightly; not that Rafe let me get very far.

“No but, baby. You listen to me. Be a good girl,” Rafe warned, tone darkening. “You know I want what’s best for you, right, sweet girl?” I nodded through teary eyes, looking back up at him. He cursed under his breath at the sight, tightening and then loosening his hand in my hair once more. “Good girl, baby. Such a good fucking girl. Now, get my cock out. And don’t even look at it.”

I shivered at the order but complied. I reached and used two fingers to gently drag the fabric of the boxers down until they too gave way, falling down past his knees. Using every bit of restraint I had, I kept my eyes locked on his, refusing to look at his dick even as it hung directly in front of my face. Rafe hummed, his free hand moving from his side to wrap around himself, pumping lazily. I swallowed, biting my tongue as a reminder to keep my eyes up. A mocking laugh fell from Rafe’s mouth at the sight and I felt my stomach tighten.

“Oh there’s my good girl,” he cooed. “She can finally fucking listen, huh? So proud of you baby. Little slut that you are, I didn't think you’d be able to do it.” I let out a tiny whimper at his words, feeling a growing, heated pit of arousal low in my stomach. I shifted slightly, just barely able to keep my eyes from falling down. He chuckled again and pursed his lips. “How about you take your clothes off for me baby? Then I’ll let you look all you want at your favorite part of me.”

“All my clothes, daddy?” I checked. He nodded. I all but raced myself to do so. I whipped off the shirt I had on with ease and shimmied out of my jeans easily enough. Sitting there in my bra and panties, Rafe told me to stop and so I paused, looking up at him. “Yes, daddy?”

“Nothing, darlin’…just wanna look at you a minute,” he said, eyes dark with lust. “So fucking pretty, baby. God on fucking high, can’t imagine what I did to deserve such a blessing.”

“Stop,” I dismissed, blushing.

“Nah, baby. You’re a fucking twelve-course meal and I plan to have all of ‘em,” he dismissed, stepping closer and grabbing my chin. “And you aren’t gonna say some dumb shit like that again. We clear, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” I murmured, feeling his thumb ghost up to trace my bottom lip. My breath hitched in my throat and he seemed to remember himself.

He pulled away and smirked down at me. “Bra and panties off. Let me see that pretty pussy, darlin’. Been missing it so much while I was gone,” he purred. I shivered at his words but peeled them off, shivering at the cold feeling of the air against my nipples and the cool fabric of the couch against my exposed core, quickly growing wet. “Fuck you’re so pretty. Look at you…all this…just for me.” He came closer again—even more this time—and his hand loosely went around my jaw, jerking my head up. “You are just for me, aren’t you baby?” I nodded immediately. He glared, his voice gruffer. “Words, darlin’. Or I might not be inclined to be too nice to you.”

“Yes, daddy,” I said breathlessly, wide-eyed. “All yours. Just for you.” I felt my heart beating rapidly in anticipation of seeing Rafe smile down at me. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?” he asked, hand still hooked around my jaw.

“Can I look please?” I asked sweetly, pouting up at him.

His lips quirked into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes looking at me, appraising. “I don’t know, baby. You think I should let you?” he asked.

“Please,” I said, pouting. “I just wan’ you. Want to see you. Wanna have you.”

“Awe with my sweet girl saying all that, well how could I say no?” he drawled, removing his hand from my neck to trail back and join the other in my hair. “Go ahead and look, darlin’. Take as long as you’d like.”

Ever so slowly, I broke my eye contact with Rafe, trailing my gaze down to his dick. Rafe’s confidence even as he stood bare as the day he was born was one of the things that had initially attracted me to him. But, looking at him now, lazily pumping his hand over his cock while he smirked down at me? I don’t think that I’d ever been quite so down bad for him. Which was…concerning, maybe? Pathetic, perhaps? But I didn’t care. At that moment, with his long, thick dick just hovering right in front of me, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him. Of how long I’d wanted him…of how long I’d waited.

“What? I don’t even gotta fuck you to turn that pretty brain off anymore?” he said, voice an alluring growl as he let out a dark sort of chuckle. “Got you so trained to take my dick you don’t even try to fight it, do you sweet girl?”

I shifted at his words, suddenly feeling my core flutter at his words, clenching regrettably—miserably—around nothing. His smirk increased tenfold at that and he stepped closer so that there was practically no space between us, not that there had been much before. Now, his cock stood proudly just next to my face. Again, ever so slowly I raised my eyes to meet his again. And the desperation must’ve been clear in my gaze if the smug, self-satisfied look in his were anything to go by.

“And this was supposed to be for you,” he hummed. “My dumb little baby won’t be able to think for herself and tell me what she wants when I get started, will she?” I let out a pathetic little whimper. “You just need something in that sweet little pussy and your perfect mouth, huh?” His eyes trailed down to my lips, briefly displaying the heated desire he was feeling before moving to meet mine again. “Tell me one thing, darlin’, okay? Think your cute lil’ brain can take that?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said, voice coming out breathy. I squirmed slightly, squeezing my thighs together to avoid doing something like grinding on the couch and making him stop this before it even started.

“I don’t have too much patience before I gotta get in that tight fucking cunt, gorgeous,” he drawled. “So…tell me. You want me to eat that pretty pussy? Or do you want to choke on my cock?” He grinned, sharp-edged and shark-like. “It’s up to you.” An aborted moan came out of me at his words. The answer for me, right now, at least, was obvious. I glanced down at his dick and then back up. “Nuh uh, darlin’. You tell me which one you want.”

“I want you to fuck my throat,” I whined, looking up at him wide-eyed.

Rafe chuckled, hands tightening in my hair. “I’ll give you a pass on not addressing me properly this once because you said something so sweet, darlin’. But don’t do it again,” he said, half-mocking, half-warning. I nodded eagerly. One hand released my hair. He pat my cheek and then held my jaw tightly between two fingers. “That’s my girl.” The possessiveness dripped off his tone. “Now be good for daddy and open that fucking mouth.”

My mouth fell open without much thought after that. He grinned as I left it open, tongue sticking out just the way he liked it. His thumb pressed down on my tongue, head tilting slightly to the side as he looked at me. I moaned at even that simple feeling, my body practically trembling with want for him. But, for a good few long moments, that’s all he did, slowly pressing his thumb more against my tongue. But, after a few moments, he drew it away, using his free hand to lazily pump his cock—still only half-hard—in his hand. I inhaled shakily, eyes looking at his heavy cock, knowing the weight and feel of it without even touching it.

“Mmm,” Rafe said, letting out a leisurely sigh as he jerked himself off in front of me. “You want my dick, sweet girl?” I nodded eagerly, tongue still shamelessly hanging out of my mouth. “You want me to make you choke on my fucking cock, baby?” Again, I nodded and he groaned. “You’re so fucking sexy, darlin’, fuck.” I watched with rapt attention as a bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip of his dick. I heard Rafe chuckle not a moment later. “Holy shit are you drooling, baby? Fuck, you really want this dick, huh? Well, I don’t wanna leave you wanting.”

Rafe used the hand in my hair to bring my head closer and anchor it in place. His other hand still held his dick that he was bringing towards my awaiting mouth. The second I felt the tip of his dick touch my tongue I groaned in appreciation at finally having something, feeling myself growing wetter and wanting. Already, with him not even having touched me yet, I was a mess. Rafe knew it damn well too. He chuckled, slapping his dick against my tongue making me inhale sharply then let out a tiny little whimper.

“Should I stop teasing you baby?” he said, voice measured, even, and entirely unaffected—as if he were in a business meeting and not getting ready to ruin my throat. “Should I make sure you lose your voice tomorrow now?” I nodded as best I could while ensuring that his dick did not fall from my tongue which just made him let out another low groan. “Alright, then, baby. You asked for it. Time for you to put that fucking mouth to work.”

I barely had the time to inhale before I felt Rafe’s heavy member settling against my tongue. I let out a breathy moan, reflexively hollowing out my cheeks and bobbing my head to take him further into my mouth. I moved my hands to touch him and he slapped them away.

“No fucking hands,” he grunted, pulling my hair so I’d look up at him before pushing me down to the hilt of him, nose settling against his pelvis. He cursed and I felt his dick pulse in my mouth as he looked down at me, eyes dark and wanting. “So fucking pretty when I’m stretching your fucking mouth open, baby. Look at you. So fucking good.” My core fluttered again at his words, clenching and unclenching while I felt myself starting to dampen the couch slightly the wetter I got. “Gonna fuck your throat now, darlin’.”

With the minimal warning issued, he thrust heavily, pulling out of my mouth almost entirely before thrusting entirely back in. I forced myself to breathe through my nose, relaxing before something unfortunate could happen like my gag reflex being triggered. I moaned around him, using my tongue as little as I could find myself able to when he started to consistently, aggressively thrust himself to the back of my throat. I whimpered at the feeling, grinding absent-mindedly against the rough fabric of the couch, letting my tongue trace along the vein on the underside of his dick.

Rafe caught sight of my desperate rutting against the couch and he let out a dark, slightly breathless chuckle without interrupting the pace of his thrusting. “God, look at my desperate fucking baby. What, is daddy not taking care of you fast enough? Fuck,” he grunted. “You wanna grind like a desperate, needy, brainless little toy? I should make you fucking get off of my thigh without me touching you?” My choked whine of displeasure at the threat made him let out another mean sort of laugh. “Don’t worry, darlin’. That’s gonna be for later.” I let out another whine at the promise then. “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you get yourself off on my leg and then I’m gonna eat your pussy so good. Gonna make you cum for me at least five times before I stop. I’ll fucking tie you up if I gotta, gorgeous. Gonna make my sweet girl so overstimulated she’s not gonna think ‘bout anything but my fucking cock…my fucking mouth…my fucking hands.” Each word was punctuated by a pointed thrust down my throat. “As if you think about anything else, my dumb little fuckin’ baby, yeah?”

When he pulled out of my mouth entirely, releasing my hair, I reflexively gasped in a breath of air, eyes wide and watering. I looked up at him. But, Rafe was still non-plussed by how fucked out I already was. He wasn’t even pausing, barely breaking even a bead of sweat across his gorgeous, obscenely perfect body. No, instead, he knelt down in front of me, one hand making its way immediately to my pussy and finding my clit like two ends of a magnet attracting to each other. He let out a low tutting sound, shaking his head at me as I bucked my hips against his hand before I could stop myself.

“So fucking sloppy, pretty girl. Is this all for me?” he asked, his voice both teasing and harsh. “Barely even done anything to you, baby. You’re just that much of a needy little fuckin’ slut for me, huh?” I let out a high-pitched keening noise and he hummed, wrapping his hand around my throat to make me focus on him even as he slipped two thick digits inside of me. “You want me, baby?” His voice was husky, rasping and his alluring eyes were locked intently on me.

“Yes, daddy,” I whined, voice weak around the whining and moans that I couldn’t help but release as he finger fucked me into oblivion. Even with so little direct stimulation, I felt my legs starting to tremble and my stomach starting to tighten, coiling and ready to barrel quickly towards release. Rafe could tell too based on the way my pussy was practically trying to swallow his fingers whole. “Please.”

“Please what, sweet girl?” he cooed, pretending like he didn’t already know damn well what I wanted.

“Fuck me,” I begged.

“Oh but you sound so pretty when you’re whining, gorgeous,” he groaned. “And I need you to be nice and fuckin’ ready for me. So I need you to cum for me before I fuck you.” My stomach tightened further just on the edge of sweet, sweet release that I’d been missing the past two months while he was missing on fucking house arrest. “Okay, baby?”

“Okay,” I sobbed, hips trying to buck even as he used his massive hand to direct my hips to keep the rhythm he wanted, the other tightening around the outside of my throat, making my eyes roll.

“Good girl,” he huffed. He paused his speech a moment, his fingers moving even faster, making me choke out a sobbing moan, head falling back until he squeezed my throat again in warning, making me lift my head. He then issued a command. A single word. “Cum.”

And who was I to disobey?

The coil in my stomach exploded into a mirage of light behind my eyes as they rolled back. I felt a slightly shrill shriek erupt from my mouth more than I actually heard myself. And all that I could think of beyond the veil and haze of pleasure was the feeling of Rafe’s hands, his skin so close to me. He supported my body as I slumped against him, both of his hands moving to rest low on my hips.

“Good job, gorgeous. You look so fucking pretty falling apart for me,” he encouraged, his voice an appreciative, warm grumble of affection. His hands ghosted up and down my sides. “You ready for me to fuck you, pretty little thing?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said, letting out a long, shaky sigh. I reached out, hands trailing up the planes of his solid chest, leaning my head on him to listen to his steady, calm heartbeat. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Of course, baby,” he said. I could hear the smugness in his voice but I didn’t care. He leaned me back on the couch and moved to get up. I let out a whine of dissatisfaction and grabbed his hand tightly, pulling him back towards me. He looked amused as he raised a brow. “I have to go get a condom, sweet girl.”

“No,” I said stubbornly.

“No?” he asked.

“Have you been fucking bitches on house arrest?” I asked, bottom lip jutting out.

He reached out, pulling my lip down and looking at it in undisguised intrigue. “No,” he admitted.

“Well, then you haven’t worn a condom with me before. So fuck’s sake, Rafe just fuck me,” I demanded.

Rafe’s eyes had a hardened sort of glee to them. His hand moved before I registered it and my head turned as his palm made contact with my cheek. Again, my core clenched around nothing. This time, I bit back the moan that threatened to escape.

“Who?” he warned, sounding all too happy to remind me of my place.

“Fuck me, daddy,” I reiterated, still with an extreme attitude. “Fuck me, don’t pull out cum in me, I don’t care. Just fuck me, daddy.”

“Drop the attitude,” Rafe said, a final warning.

“No,” I spat, knowing exactly where it would get me. You know, right where I wanted.

Instead of slapping me again as I’d first expected, Rafe tilted my head up with just his pointer finger under my chin, his shark-like smile back again. “Do you want to be punished, baby?” he asked, sounding all too eager. I offered no answer. He used his free hand and slapped me, harder this time. I couldn’t bite back the moan this time, or the way that my hand tried to drift between my legs. He caught my wrist easily to stop me. “Answer me or I’m gonna stop. I’ll walk out the fucking door, darlin’.” My bottom lip quivered at the thought, chest heaving. “Do you want a punishment, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” I admitted after another stubborn moment.

“Well why didn’t you say so, darlin’,” he cooed sarcastically.

In a flurry of movement, Rafe sat on the couch and had me over his knee. My bare, soaked cunt made contact with his hard knee and I choked on a moan at that feeling. I barely had time to register the change in position before he landed his first hit on my ass. I yelped at the feeling, reflexively trying to squirm away from the pain, even as I felt a jolt of pleasure at the feeling. Rafe held my hips in place easily with one hand, keeping me firmly on his lap, and used the other to lay a hard slap against my ass, making me yelp again.

“That feel fucking good baby?” he grunted, slapping me again. I didn’t answer, a sharp, hissing inhale coming from my mouth. Another slap. Another whimper. “You should be fucking thanking me for this, darlin’. Disciplining your unruly fucking ass. Making you my good girl.”

“Thank you, daddy. Thank you, thank you. Please,” I whimpered, reflexively trying to squirm once more when his hand made contact with my ass yet again.

“Please, what, sweet girl? Remind you that you’re fucking mine? Oh, I am gonna, darlin’. This is just part of it,” he ground out. I could feel his rock-hard cock pressed against my side and I was torn between wanting it stuffed in my mouth and my pussy. Both thoughts escaped from my mind entirely as he landed another slap against my ass.

“More,” I ground out through clenched teeth, barely able to resist the urge to grind against his thigh and knee with the desperation that I was feeling.

“Needy little slut, you are, huh?” he asked, amused. His hands stopped their cyclical pattern of slapping my ass to rub the abused flesh for a moment. I felt his hand move between my legs more, teasing my entrance with his fingers. Naturally, I opened my legs for him. He chuckled at that. “Can’t wait to be stuffed with me, can you? Already brain dead to everything but me, aren’t you, sweet girl? You’re just my little plaything right now, aren’t you?” I buried my face in the couch and let out a groan, feeling his hand circling my clit again, lazily, not creating enough friction to do anything.

“Daddy, please,” I whined.

“Don’t worry, pretty little thing. I know just what you need to cum again. I decided I need two from you before I fuck this sweet little fucking pussy,” he grunted. With sudden and almost startling accuracy, Rafe slapped me again. This time, his hand made contact not with my ass but with my pussy, the sharp slap making me gasp and jerk from the pain. I let out a half-aborted scream and rocked back into his palm, panting from surprise. He openly laughed. “You didn’t think I forgot how much you liked that, did you, darlin’? Remember that real fucking well? So I’m gonna take care of this pussy just the way I know you need it.” I let out a breathy moan mixed with a cry as he spanked my clit once more. Again and again and again he did it until I felt like I was dripping sweat on my whole body and my pussy was soaked with my juices—the couch too for that matter. “Fuck me, baby, your pussy is so pretty all puffy like this. She’s just crying for me. You want me so bad your poor fucking brain can’t handle it, can it?” I let out a pathetic little whimper, unable to muster much more. “I tell you what, darlin’. You cum from me slapping this pussy and I’ll fuck you til you pass out if that’s what you want. You wanna do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I gasped immediately, hardly even grasping the words just knowing that I wanted the pleasure that had been slowly building to finally reach its fucking crescendo.

“Good girl,” he said before unleashing a series of slaps to my pussy in a pattern that I couldn’t have anticipated if I were in his damn brain myself.

This time, as I tumbled over the edge of pleasure, I wailed, jerking against his hand. I collapsed against Rafe’s leg as the aftershock of the second orgasm washed over me. I gasped for air like I’d been drowning and I felt Rafe’s hand tracing up and down my back lazily. As I caught my breath, he placed a final sharp slap to my pussy making me let out a weak yelp of complaint. Without being too gentle, Rafe maneuvered me off of his lap and over the arm of the couch. He let out an appreciative groan and I lifted my head to look back at him. I was startled to see him lifting the belt. My eyes widened as I felt him wrap it around my wrists, quickly binding me.

“You’re not getting away from me, gorgeous. Not when I finally get to fuck my pussy again. You’re nice and ready for me,” he said, sounding almost absent-minded as he spoke to me. He grunted as he slid into me with a single thrust. When he bottomed out we both let out moans—his low and mine high and keening—and I felt my body shake. “Fuck. When you can feel your legs I’m gonna fuck you so hard in doggy you’re gonna not walk the day after. But right now I just gotta finish the job, baby. Gotta turn your fuckin’ brain off forever.”

With that, he started to purposefully piston his hips, holding my bound wrists behind my back for better leverage. I was nearly boneless, shrieking in pleasure as his hot, throbbing cock stretched me open and brushed against each and every nerve ending just right—at least that was how it felt. How he felt. His thrusts were deep and slow and pointed. I sobbed against the feeling, wanting to rut back into him to make him speed up. But, I couldn’t muster the strength. So I just let him fuck into me at his own pace and I felt myself starting to build towards another bout of pleasure—this bound to be even stronger than before if the stars already behind my eyes were anything to go by.

“Daddy, please,” I sobbed, not knowing if I wanted more or less stimulation, more or less pleasure, from him.

Regardless of what I wanted, Rafe didn’t say anything. He grunted out a noise of acknowledgment that I’d spoken then doubled down in his efforts to make me cum again. And when he wrapped his arm around my throat again, tightening quickly and entirely, it was over. This time, as he forced me to a third orgasm, I was actually sobbing, tears running down my face from the fucked up amount of pain and pleasure entwined in being so overstimulated in such a short period of time—especially after so long away from him.

“There’s my good fucking girl,” Rafe said, voice slightly hoarse as he slowed his thrusts to a stop.

He still hadn’t cum himself, his dick fully pulsing inside of me with how hard he was. I dreaded what that meant, even though I also fully anticipated what I knew would come. He gently undid the belt from around my wrists, releasing me, and then eased himself out of me. He flipped me around on the couch and I looked at him with big watery eyes.

“Please no more,” I said, tears slipping down my cheeks. “It’s too much, please.”

“Come on, darlin’,” he cooed, pressing kisses to my cheeks. “Come on, sweet girl. You can give me one more. Been missing my pussy so much. You know I need one more from her.” Another series of kisses, the last one a long and lingering, filthy one to my lips where his tongue entwined with mine and we both pulled back needing air. “Please, baby. One more for me.”

His hand moved down, gently tracing my clit, making me jolt. Already I was so sensitive, so overstimulated. But, the impossibly sweet and imploring look on his face? The hunger he had for me? It was impossible to deny.

“Okay, daddy,” I agreed, sniffling.

He leaned his forehead against mine, grinning. “That’s my girl,” he said softly.

He hitched my leg up over his hip, settling between my legs on the couch. He used his free hand to grip his cock, looking down at us. He gently slapped the head of his dick against my clit once, twice, a third time until I whined and he chuckled, reaching over to press a short kiss to my lips to shut me up. He ran himself up and down my slit over and over until I was shivering and he saw a tiny dribble of new arousal dripping from me. He let out a low moan of his own and then sank into me in one, hitching my leg up again so he could thrust as deep as humanly possible.

“There you are, gorgeous. There’s my beautiful fucking girl,” Rafe praised, pressing a kiss to each cheek, to my lips, and to my forehead as he steadily thrust into me. “So fucking perfect for me. So fucking good for me, baby.”

“You feel so good, daddy,” I said, eyes rolling back and then curling as he pressed down on the slight bulge in my stomach only present because of him. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Anything for you, baby. Fucking anything,” he grunted. He ground slower against me instead of thrusting for a few moments. “You don’t get to keep me from my pussy anymore, baby. I gotta fucking be with you.”

“Wanna be with you, daddy,” I babbled in agreement.

“Good fucking girl,” he huffed, pressing down on the bulge again making me whimper. I felt his dick pulsate again and I tightened around him habitually making his breath hitch. “You gonna cum for me one more time, baby? I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” I whined. “Please can I cum? Please, please, please?” I begged.

“Fu-fuck yeah,” Rafe stuttered. “Cum with me baby.”

And this time, as I fell across pleasure’s razor edge once more, Rafe fell with me. I felt as he came inside me, hot and deep. My eyes rolled at the feeling, almost addicted to the mere feeling of him being so close and intensely part of me at that moment. I held him without realizing it, nails digging into the skin of his back as I held him against me, ignoring the fact that I was trembling like a leaf.

“So proud of you, my sweet girl. So good for me, gorgeous. Love you so much. So good for me.” Those were the first things I was coherent of hearing again when the whooshing in my ears had faded. They were the sweet praise that Rafe was offering. He went to move—to pull out—but I held him to me still, almost wrapping myself around him like a koala to stop it.

“No,” I denied. “Don’t move yet.”

“Okay, baby,” he agreed. “I won’t pull out. Do you want me to hold you?” I nodded. He carefully moved us. I winced as he adjusted us so that I was sitting up and in his lap because it made him deeper for a moment still but as we settled that faded and I just melted into his chest. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You did so good.” He stroked my skin and hair for a moment. “I gotta get you cleaned up, sweet girl. Get you some water.”

“Not yet,” I denied again, eyes closed as I leaned against him, as much of my skin touching him as possible. “Take care of me in a minute.”

He chuckled. “Oh? You’re gonna let me take care of you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered absent-mindedly. “Fine. You can take care of me, Rafe. I’ll stop being stubborn.” I needed his help. He’d been right about that when he showed up, I was adult enough to admit that. And I knew that he loved me. That he meant it from the best place.

“Really?” he asked, disbelieving. “You’re gonna move in with me? Let me take care of you? Just like that? All I had to do was fuck you like that?”

“Yeah. That’s all you had to do,” I agreed, far too exhausted to explain the complex detail of it in truth. I let out a breathless laugh though, a thought occurring to me when I felt a cool bite of metal and plastic on my leg. “Well, as long as you don’t get arrested for busting out of house arrest.” I cracked open my eyes to give him a smile.

“Shut up, I'll be fine,” he muttered. His hands held me closely, tightly, possessively to him. “You don’t get to take it back. I get to take care of you now. To make sure you’re safe. You’re gonna live with me, sweet girl.”

“Okay, Rafe,” I agreed softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek gently. He leaned into the touch and I smiled. “I will.” I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, laying my forehead against his.

“I love you, baby,” he murmured, so quiet I could barely hear it.

“I love you too,” I replied, just as quiet, just as simple.

He smiled at that, the sight making his eyes go warm and sweet. “Alright, then, gorgeous. Let’s get you cleaned up and get the fuck out of here,” he said. His smile morphed into a cheesy sort of grin—the kind I rarely got to see. “Let’s go home.”

For once, I couldn’t disagree. And I couldn’t help but echo the cheesy smile. “Okay, then, Romeo,” I teased. “Let’s go home.”

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potatomountain · 1 year ago

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"Case: It's You" - 1

Chapter One

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective reader

📍Rating:

📍word count: 3.4k

📍network: @pirateeznet

📍Warnings: language and sexual innuendos

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 and @daesukiii

masterlist | Next

It was entirely too early, and too gloomy of a day, for your phone to be ringing for the near dozenth time in the last five minutes. After the hour trek, in the rain and a packed subway as well, you finally relented and picked up the call. “What is so important you have to call me twelve times, Ji?”

“Jeez it wasn’t that much-”

“No, that’s just the last five minutes. Heaven forbid I count the calls on the subway in the last thirty minutes. Spit it out.” Hissing, you held the phone closer, dodging one of the many men in suits rushing to their own places of work.

Jisung huffed on the other side, grumbling under his breath before speaking up. “I’m worried about how your first day is going to go.”

Rolling your eyes, you sidestepped a puddle, barely managing to miss the splash of a child rushing through it. “How are you more nervous for my first day than I am?”

“Because I’m sure you’re pretty angry right-”

“Of course I’m angry! Half the unit agreed to transfer me out! After three years Ji!”

“I know, I’m sorry. You’ll do great though! You’re really driven and have a strong moral compass, the organized crime unit is lucky to have you. Just… play nice? It’s not their fault you got transferred.”

You knew he had a point but you were loathed to admit it. With a sigh you approached the small detective precinct, the heavy rain finally slowing to a light drizzle. “No, but I doubt they’ll be too happy about the higher ups forcing a random transfer on them. Look Ji, I appreciate you worrying about me but don’t. I’m not supposed to have any contact with the S.K unit for a month after that last day, that includes outside of work. They already transferred me, I don’t want to give them a reason to fire me so soon.”

“Okay okay, hint taken. I’ll check up on you soon.” He hung up first, wishing you luck once more by name before doing so.

He really was right, you shouldn’t be so angry at this predicament. Sure it wasn’t your decision to get transferred out to a new Precinct, but it was your decision to go to this one. Which, in hindsight, was stupid. You had just named the first Precinct that you knew was furthest from the S.K and the homes of your former colleagues, hurt by their betrayal. Good intentions or not, you didn’t want to leave the team.

You didn’t want them to be right though either but being a detective was your dream, and the higher-ups didn’t want to give you a second chance after this.

Pocketing your phone and stepping under the small black awning, you closed the umbrella and placed it in the holder next to the door. If it wasn’t for the plague on the door reading A.Z offices, you might mistake the inconspicuous building for one of the many other office buildings in this district. There were several detective units in the city that operated outside of the police stations, but none so secretive.

It actually piqued your curiosity and excitement as you pulled the gray door open, greeted by a typical, but cluttered, receptionist desk and foyer. There was no one in sight, the pale blue gray of the walls the only color of otherwise bland decor. “Huh.”

There was a hall past the desk, some muffled voices carrying from an ajar door at the end. You were a few minutes early, but the door was open and they were expecting you- still you found yourself carefully moving down the hall, maybe to get an idea of who you were working with before introducing yourself.

As soon as you reached the door though, things went quiet. With nothing to eavesdrop on, you opted for knocking on the door, nudging it open before calling out. “Hello?”

Footsteps were heard before the entirety of your view was blocked by a vested chest, the door halting from opening further. “Who the fuck are you?”

Tilting your head back you blinked up at the towering figure, frown pulling at your lips. Out of all the welcome scenarios you had imagined, this hadn’t been one of them. Readjusting your bag your hands went to your hips and you jutted your chin out. “The new addition to your unit, detective.” You spat out with venom.

He seemed around your age, thick lips pulled into a scowl as he glared down the brim of his nose. “We don’t have a new addition.” He moved to slam the door in your face, but a new hand stopped it, slipping under the brute’s arm to stand between you. “Hwa?”

The ash-blonde detective had a professional smile on his face as he blocked the other one from staring you down. Before you could retort he spoke your name. “We’ve been expecting you. Detective Song here just forgot.”

“Forgot? I didn’t forget- hey!” The taller man was pulled away out of your sight, protesting the whole way.

“What do you mean new addition?” Another voice spoke up from behind him somewhere, which irked your already growing discontent for these men even more.

“Pardon me but, I don’t think the rest of your unit is aware there was a transfer to your unit- and that I start today.” Lips pursed, you held eye contact.

He shrugged, taking a step back and holding the door open for you. “I might have forgotten to mention to some of them, the point is the Captain and I are very aware. I’m Detective Park, the vice-captain of the unit.”

“I see…” You trailed off, turning your attention from the vice-captain to the rest of the room. There were three more men around the room with five desks in the center. It was a typical detective office, one wall full of pins and strings connecting faces and names you didn’t recognize, papers strewn about, computers and cords connecting the five desks that were all facing each other. Some filing cabinets, a second hall, and a door. Nothing about the room itself told you anything about these men- but they were all clearly handsome.

All men.

You didn’t like where this was going.

Aside from the vice captain to your left, the tall brute was being held in a headlock by an equally tall, slightly more beefed-out man with black hair and softer features. The other two were standing near the desk closest to the second hall, the stockier one with chestnut hair glaring over at you while sipping his coffee, the prettier one next to him watching you with more curiosity.

Internally you wanted to groan, turn around and walk back out because nothing about this felt like it was going to go well. “Is there another female here or just me?”

“Well…” Detective Park next to you shrugged, motioning for the others. “There are eight of us, all men. Captain and Detective San, and Detective Jung are in the field right now, but allow me to introduce you.” He motioned to the two tall ones. “Detective Song Mingi and Jeong Yunho. And those two are detective Choi Jongho and our technical analyst Kang Yeosang. Team, this is our newest addition.”

You bowed at your introduction, forcing a relaxed smile despite feeling so out of place already. “I’m in your care.” Standing back up, you turned to the Vice again. “Where can I set my things and get to work?”

He blinked in surprise, shifting uncomfortably. “Well, the receptionist desk will be yours.”

“Pardon?”

“Right up front there-”

“No no, I heard you, I’m just confused. I’m a detective, not a receptionist.” Again, your discontent was growing as you stared him down.

But it was a new voice that spoke, turning your attention. “Well um, we have all our bases covered and really don’t have a need for another detective. This is sort of sudden.” Yunho was his name if you recall correctly, although now he was making himself busy at his desk.

Pinching the bridge of your nose you let out a heavy sigh. “The transfer was approved two weeks ago after nearly a week of consolidation. I don’t think the board would approve a transfer for a unit I’m not needed for.”

“A new detective on the books isn’t something we need.” Mingi snapped out again, once more showing his distaste for you.

You wanted to lash back, to curse them out for the blatant disrespect and unprofessionalism. They had two weeks to prepare, only some of them knew you were coming and yet none of them bothered to put any weight into that?

“We’ll talk to the Captain and put you to work then.”

“Captain isn’t due back until the end of the week Hwa, maybe later if he and San don’t get what they need.” One of the others with a familiar voice spoke up. He must have been the one who spoke up earlier- Detective Jongho.

“That’s fine-”

“Fine?” Like a twig snapping, so did your patience. “I’ve been sitting on my ass for the last three weeks just to wait another? This is ridiculous!”

“Shouldn’t have transferred then, newbie.”

“You can take your attitude and shove it up your ass with your head, Detective Song, because the likelihood of me leaving any time soon is slim. Not unless you personally want to kiss and shine the Commissioners shoes!” You stepped forward, the man stepping up towards you in response.

“So this is why you got forcefully transferred? Can’t play nice?” The fifth voice startled you, just as deep and condescending as the man before you.

You swiveled on your heel to glare at the final man, sneering. “I play nice just fine- when I’m welcomed.”

“We never said you weren’t Detective-”

“You don’t have to!” You turned your glare on the Vice Captain. “Eight of you, with three offices and five desks- an empty receptionist, lack of communication on the arrival of a new Detective in your care- You have no means or intention of including me in this unit.”

As soon as the words were out there was a drastic change of tension in the atmosphere; the professional expression the Vice Captain wore was gone, replaced with a cold stare. One glance at the others and they all had similar expressions. “Truthfully, we do not, but until we can convince the Commissioner and board that you are not needed here, we have to put up with each other.”

“So buckle up buttercup, or get the hell out.” The smug smirk on Mingi’s face had you stiffening, but not from intimidation.

No, you always rose to a challenge even if it clearly wasn’t in your favor.

Taking the time to stare each one of the men down with a similar cold stare, you bid your time before finally locking gazes with Detective Park. “You should be aware, Vice, that I bite when threatened.” Straightening your back, as if you could any more, and holding your head high you turned towards the door. “That receptionist desk will have to do then; plenty of space for me to do my work. I’m sure you won’t mind at all if I make myself at home.”

“If you have the time.”

You didn’t care which one of them said it, slamming the door behind you because you expected them to do the same. Marching down the hall, past the small bathroom you failed to notice before, you took in the receptionist desk with a huff. It was empty, probably never used and just full of trash and miscellaneous decor that never got pulled out of the box.

“These fucking dicks think they’re just going to get their way? Over my dead body. Play nice Ji said, well he can go fuck himself too because ain’t no nice here.” Mumbling under your breath you immediately began organizing the desk, making use of the trash can under the desk. There was no stool, no electronics, not even a phone- but you could fix that.

There were other boxes in the foyer you hadn’t noticed, tucked away and out of sight. This room was probably a front for any bystanders that walked in, something to discourage anyone who wasn’t supposed to be here from snooping around.

At least it gave you plenty to do over the next week, knowing that until the Captain did show up, some things you would just have to deal without.

—

Your spiteful rage motivated you for several hours, suit jacket tossed aside and sleeves rolled up to your elbows as you cleaned up the now clutter-free desk. You had found some decent decor in the junk, using it to spice up the desk. It was waist high, with a ledge to hide the desk from the other side. A fake little plant and metal bowls of varying sizes now sat on that ledge, the desk devoid of anything but your work bag.

You hadn’t heard the door open or any sounds from the back, further indicating the distance they were trying to put between you and them. It just fueled your determination to stay.

Despite what happened with your last unit, you were a damned good detective, you knew that even without Chan reminding you often. While the S.K unit revolved around cases about runaways and crimes committed by minors, it was still a police force. This was no different, even if the unit operated differently, you could handle it.

Glancing around the space, you did feel a bit proud with how it was coming along. There was a pile of boxes and garbage by the hall, which you felt ready to take care of now. Picking it up, you headed down the hall, heels clicking on the wooden floor. The door was indeed shut, but not locked, and you swung it open with a loud thud. You heard something clatter on the other side of the room, but you ignored it as you dropped the boxes of garbage on the floor.

“What the he-”

“Take care of this will you.” Dusting off your hands you looked towards the nearest one, which happened to be Mingi and Yunho at their desks, but Mingi was half out of his chair. “Since this is your unit, you can handle the trash.” Turning on your heel you made your way down the hall.

“She didn’t leave?”

“Apparently not Min.”

You could hear them as you shut the door harshly, a smirk on your lips as you made your way back to your new work area. They really had no idea just how hard you were going to make this for them, and it brought a sense of pride.

You could easily be the biggest pain in their ass, all too happy to oblige. One week? You could make them regret it by then. Maybe you could make them regret it by the end of the day, it was only lunch time.

—

Having set out to get your lunch from a deli down the street, you were a bit annoyed to come back to your newly cleaned office once more full of the trash that you had tossed back at them. Setting your sandwich down, and with all the calm you could muster, you cleaned up the trash once more. Plastering a fake grin on your features you carried it to the back, only to find the door locked this time.

Frowning, you set the garbage down, took a deep breath, and then pounded on the wooden door. “Hello detective’s? I think you forgot something!”

No answer.

You just pounded harder and called out louder. “Hellooo?”

No answer again.

Grumbling, you gave the door a kick with your heel, leaving the garbage there and instead going back to your desk. Grabbing your phone you brought it back to the door, recording once more as you banged and called out, then sighed. “See what I mean Sir? I really think there was a mix up- I can’t even access the office. How am I a part of this unit?”

Just as you had been hoping for, the door swung open and the pile of garbage you had set against it went tumbling against the unsuspecting Vice Captain. You smiled up at him innocently, pointing to the recording camera and then saving it. “Your poker face is impeccable Vice, but do you really think it’s wise to lock me out?”

“We’re in a meeting.” He deadpanned, kicking some of the garbage to the side into the office. “You were being disruptive.”

“Me? Disruptive? I have no idea what you mean, I just needed to throw away this garbage for a second time, since apparently it can walk on two legs right back to my beautiful desk you so graciously assigned me.” Thick with sarcasm you added a bit of a pout to your tone, pointing to the boxes between you two. “I had asked Detective Song and Jeong to handle it since no one bothered to show me where it goes. You do have a proper place for garbage, right? This isn’t the only place is it?”

His features darkened as he leaned forward. “You should really watch your insults Detective- You don’t want to disrespect this unit any more than you have.”

“Oh so I’m disrespecting the unit? Hardly anything to respect when you haven’t earned it.” You sneered out.

“Okay okay- calm down you two.” Yunho came barreling forward, putting space between the Vice and you while looking a bit panicked. “We can’t get anything done if we are tearing each other’s heads off.”

You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest. “I have nothing better to do for a week, so I don’t see why not.”

“For fuck’s sake woman- you really are so mouthy.”

You glared past the two in front of you to Jongho who had a fresh coffee in his hands, sitting at the desk from before. “Give me a reason to shut up then.”

“I can give you several off the clock.” Mingi countered from his desk, leaning his palms against the surface.

You rolled your eyes. “I like dick, but not the personality type.”

“Enough!” The room froze with that one raised word, Yunho staring each of you down with a tick in his jaw. “We can all agree that none of us are happy with this situation… but for fucks sake we do have a job to do. Can you sit pretty until the Captain gets back and just hash it out with him? And can we all at least agree to try to be civil until then?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from retorting without thinking. This had been what you wanted right? But you weren’t about to be the first to agree.

Yunho glanced at each of you once more, lingering on the Vice Captain last. “Seonghwa? We can’t afford to have an ongoing battle with another detective right now, can we make some arrangements?”

He relented with a sigh, shoulders relaxing. “Fine. You three handle this garbage… and you and I will talk.” He breezed past you down to your desk which you hesitated to follow at first. You could hear Mingi’s grumbles towards Yunho but you didn’t care.

“We’ll supply you with wifi, a seat, and a phone. As for work for the week it will be menial or trivial things. When Captain Kim returns, you can discuss with him your role.” He said as soon as you stepped up to the desk.

“And the offhand comments? The intentional sabotage?”

“Will stop.” Seonghwa relented once more with a sigh, seemingly tired of this whole ordeal. “Will this work?”

Now it was your turn to relinquish a sigh. “Yes, I came here to work not to fight over petty bullshit. As long as you follow those terms I’ll behave until your Captain returns.”

“Good. Write down anything you need for this space and I’ll have it picked up by tomorrow-”

“No need I can do so. I still have my things from my last unit, it’ll be fine.” Leaning against the wall you glanced up at him, holding out your hand. “So truce?”

He stared at your outstretched palm, reluctantly accepting. “Truce. Finish up here and come find me when you’re done. I’ll give you the wifi and a key to the front door.”

Just like that he left you alone, the click of the back office door heard a second later. Something still didn’t sit right with you, something still so inherently wrong about this whole situation, but there was nothing you could do.

Not yet at least. This was one battle won, you had a week to prepare for the boss fight.

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voxsmistress · 1 year ago

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Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo - Part 12

Well my gorgeous little lemon-chops we are finally getting there! My brain was absolutely scrambled trying to think how to write this chapter! I hope you like it? please lemme know <3

Our little Y/n is about to make a deal that will change her entire undead life!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen

Stepping outside the hotel you spy a black car pull up. Hurrying down the steps you are surprised when a sinner gets out the driver’s seat and opens the back door for you with a small bow in your direction. Okay. That’s new. Thanking them you slide in and relax in the lush leather seating. Perhaps having them a little bit wrapped round your finger is a good thing?

Being directed to Vox’s office you admire all the decoration on the way, distracting yourself from the fact you were going to have a meeting with two very powerful Overlords who may – or may not – try and hook you into another deal. Knocking on the oak door you let yourself in when you hear his voice. Okay Y/n you’ve gotta stick to your guns! No offering anything unless you get a better offer. And do NOT get distracted by their flirting! You got this!

Peeking your head round the door you smile at Vox who was sat behind his desk, looking up when you entered, a lazy smile spreads across his face. “Ah my lovely little songbird, finally you made it” he motions to the seat opposite him. You close the door behind you. As you walk over to the chair trying your best not to roll your eyes you huff.

“Vox it was barely half an hour since you texted me to meet you, you’re lucky I didn’t have any better plans” teasing him as you take your seat, he chuckles.

“Better plans than seeing me?” Biting your bottom lip, you let your gaze flicker down his usual suit, admiring how even sat down he commanded power. Catching his darkening expression, you smirk at him.

“Perhaps”.

“Princessa, you wouldn’t be teasing our Voxxie now, would you?” Your undead heart nearly leapt out of your chest, twisting quickly you give an amused Valentino the stink eye. Not funny.

“Bloody Hell Val, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Having them both snigger at you made the scowl on your face deepen. Where was Velvette when you needed her? She kept them both in line. Most of the time.

“My apologies Y/n, I didn’t mean to scare you so…” one of his hands tilted your chin up so you were looking at him, he himself was leaning down so your faces weren’t so far from each other. The sweet smell of the cigarette smoke that clung to him tickled your nose. “Forgive me?”

Hmm. Flirt. “I suppose so”, laughing when he taps your nose with a smile of his own. Standing back up he walks around the table to perch on the end next to Vox, purposefully shoving documents out of the way annoying the other Demon. Now, having two powerful Demon’s staring at you was just a bit nerve-wracking. Having two powerful Demons staring at you when you know they want something from you was just … a bit scary.

As no one was breaking the silence you decided to: “any who, how did you know where I was?”

“Darling, I always know where you are”, Vox rests his head on his linked hands, studying you. Those clever eyes taking in every detail. If you had less control of yourself, you’d fidget and blush under that gaze. Instead, you squirmed internally while externally smiling.

“Uh huh … you’ve been tracking my phone to show you where my location is, right?” It had been the main question you’d been asking yourself the entire car journey over. Of course he had tagged your phone. Those cameras of his only show so much of Pentagram City and from what Alastor told you, there weren’t any (or any that he knew about) in the Hazbin Hotel. At his lack of answer, you smirk at them. “You do know there is an easier way to find out where I am?”

“How is that?” They ask, Valentino sparking up another cigarette filling the room with that sweet, red smoke. Holding your finger up in a wait motion, you reach into your jacket pocket and pull out your phone. Typing in a number, you hold it up to your ear while crossing your legs as you stare at them both. After a moment a shrill ringing started from the top of the table, Vox looked at it confused for a moment before answering it. “Hello?”

“Hey handsome, so just in case you’re wondering where I am. I am currently sat in your office with two very hot Overlords discussing how they can just ring my mobile and find me like a normal person instead of tracking me like a piece of game. Okay gorgeous – gotta go important things to discuss. Mwah. Kisses”, you tease before hanging up the phone and slipping it back into your pocket. An amused snort distracted you from your stare down with Vox. Valentino was quietly laughing to himself as Vox shoved the phone back on the table with a scowl.

“Oh Vox, our Princessa certainly has a funny bone”, he joked while pinching the bottom of Vox’s screen affectionately. If that had been anyone else, they’d have lost their hand. Sometimes when the Vee’s showed you these different sides to them you could almost believe the sweet gestures that they would give to you – but then you remember who they are and that thought disappears. A little bit. Sometimes.

Vox shook Valentino’s hand off his screen, rolling his eyes he huffed a little. You and Val share an amused look. For a powerful Overlord, he really did pout like a baby. Actually, come to think about it, they all did. What does that make you? The babysitter?

“So … boys, you demanded my presence about an offer you had for me? I’m here and all ears. What is it that you would like to talk about?”

“Yes. Me and Valentino have discussed about offering you a deal to sing at Valentino’s clubs. After seeing the …uh … opposition the other night well - someone who is associated with us needs to be working in the more upper-class joints than you are now.” Surprised by their offer you tilt your head in confusion, this is not what you were expecting.

“You want me to work at Val’s clubs?” You confirm with them.

“Yes.”

“As well as the other clubs I’m currently working for?”

“No”. Vox flicked through his phone. Blinking in shock you look up at the smoking Valentino, a wink was the only answer you got off him.

“Instead of?”

“Yes Songbird. We are willing to offer you more money than the rest of the clubs are offering you combined. Of course, you will get certain benefits and you are welcome to an apartment here in the Tower for security reasons and ease of getting to work, etc”. Ah there it is. The ol’ ball and chain.

“And what are you wanting in return for this rather generous offer?” You lean your elbows on your knees as you focus on the two Overlords.

“Your happiness…?” BUZZZZ Please try again. How stupid do they think you are?

“Uh huh. Wanna give that another go big boy?” Narrowing your eyes at them, you receive amused looks in return.

“Okay. We get your exclusivity to just us. It’s a brand deal; demons and sinners that work for us only work for us,” Val explains through a haze of smoke.

“A brand deal? I hope you aren’t planning on branding my ass with that” you jokingly ask - semi-serious.

“Don’t be so silly, we wouldn’t brand you”, Vox rolls his eyes as Val chuckles.

“Course if you wanted that Princessa, I’m sure we can come to some arrangement”, shaking your head at Valentino you focus back on Vox.

“But it you work for me, Val and Velvette – it’s a complete deal. You help showcase and sell the clothing line and Socials with Velvette, you work in the clubs for Val, and I need a little bit of you here and there for the VoxTek products to promote them. In return you get publicity, a place to live, more money than you’ll know what to do with and power”. Was this sounding a little bit too good to be true to anyone else?

Biting your lip nervously, you lean back in your chair as you eyeball them both: “All in return for?”

Sighing, Vox gets up from his chair and makes his way in front of you. He leans against the table and looks down at you, Valentino was smirking over his shoulder.

“You.” He wafts his hand at you.

Me? What on Hell? You uncross your arms and glare at him while stating: “Me? Thought we went through this; you aren’t having my soul”. Standing from your chair you go to walk away, this was a complete waste of time if that’s all they were after. Sharp fingers gripped your wrist yanking you back the few steps you had made towards the door. With one hand on your wrist, Vox’s other grips your chin gently and lifted it up so you were looking him dead in the eyes. Two other hands grip your waist, the sweet smell of smoke wafted around you as Valentino loomed over your back.

Tutting, Vox smirked, “It’s not your soul we are after sweetheart. We want you”. Confused you try to shake his grip off but he tightened it.

“Me for what?” What on earth could you give them that they didn’t already have?

“To be ours”. Well that stopped you in your tracks.

Possession. Is that what they wanted? “This is new…? Is this like you want me like a new shiny toy that has just come out at the store sorta thing? What when you grow bored of me? I’m just to be tossed aside like the rest of your toys” you bare your fangs in annoyance at them.

“No, we cannot see that happening Princessa, you have three of us to share – trust us, we and you will not be bored. And new? Hardly. We’ve been interested in your ever since we saw you sing one night. You didn’t see us at that club, but we sure saw you, mi amore. Since then we’ve been watching you, waiting and wanting”, breath caught in your throat as Valentino’s fingers stroked up and down your waist. Vox’s caressed your cheek with his thumb while keeping your eyes on his. What was happening?

“So? My little Songbird, what do you say?” He rumbles out, eyes lidded as his gaze flits between your eyes and lips. This has gotta be a dream? Right?

“Can I have a moment to think about this please?” you ask. After they both agree you remove yourself from their arms. Pacing the room, you begin to think through everything without their influence. Contract terms were coming to an end, but not all of them. You needed to complete those deals on your end, or you would end up with less power than you began with. You would not be saddled with a leash because of the Vee’s, you had a way to gain power and you would use it.

Turning to them both, you take a deep breath. Here you go.

“I agree to certain terms. However, I have my own stipulations. I finish out my old contracts while starting the new ones with you. I have deals of my own that I need to complete before starting new ones, you understand that? Also, I can work at other clubs, however they will be vetted by all of us before I take the job. I have a name that I have built up, I do not want to see it go to ruin. With the apartment – I can come and go when and as I please. More so than anything, I am my own person and will always be my own person.” You hold a hand up as they both go to crowd you again. You had to finish this before they managed to influence you again by their presence. Because as much as you could lie to yourself and to others, you were attracted to the Vee’s. If this was a chance to run with a bit of happiness and danger (because undead life was so boring without it) then you were going to sprint with it to the finish line.

“If I am to be yours – then you are just as much mine, and I don’t sleep around. I expect the same. I understand you three have an agreement and I’m happy to be included in that – but that is it”. Lowering your hand, you stand ready to hear what they have to say. The cowardly part of you doesn’t want to look at their faces. But the stubborn bitch in you wanted to make sure they knew you meant every single word you said.

The gigantic smirks on both their faces made your cheeks redden, even more so when they both moved forwards so quickly that you were surrounded by them again. Hand under your chin once more, you raise your eyebrows at the smug Vox as he leans down so that you could feel his breath on your cheeks. Valentino was bending down from behind you, his hands wrapped around your waist pulling you close to his chest as his breath tickled your hair around your ear.

“Deal”, they both whispered. Well fuck!

Tags List:

@tasha-1994 @azullynxx @reath-solia @leathesimp @klorinda @twinklethewarrior @martinys-world @rosiethevoxobesser

@the-maladaptivedaydreamer @songbrita @midge7838 @joumi13 @wonderlandangelsposts @th3rizzl3r

@ace-spades-1 @iamferalfordilfs

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thevoidstaredback · 4 months ago

Text

Danny: Dick! There's a monster under my bed and it's really ugly

Tim: Honestly, fuck you

Oracle: Time for Plan G

Batman: Don't you mean Plan B?

Oracle: No, we tried Plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over Plan C due to technical difficulties

Nightwing: What about Plan D?

Oracle: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago

Agent A: What about Plan E?

Oracle: I'm hoping we don't have to use it; Phantom dies in Plan E

Robin: I like Plan E

Danny, texting Tim: Tim! HELP! I'm being kidnapped!

Dick: Where are you?

Danny: I'm with some strange person. In a car. Help!

Tim: I'll call Dick

Dick, answering his phone: Y'ello?

Tim: Where's Danny? He texted me that he was getting kidnapped

Dick: Danny? What do you mean? He's right here next to-

Dick:

Dick: I'll call you back *hangs up*

Dick: MY NEW HAIRCUT ISN'T THAT BAD!

Danny: WHO ARE YOU?!?!

Robin: How do Batman and Nightwing usually get out of these messes?

Oracle: They don't. They just make a bigger mess that cancels the first one out

Babs: You can trust me! Let's not forget who pull you out of the river when you were twelve!

Dick: Let's not forget who pushed me in!

Robin: How are we supposed to defeat Captain Boomerang?

Tutelary: I'm not supposed to have ideas; I'm the hot one

Robin: I'm pretty sure I'm the hot one

Dick: Without you, Danny, we're just three idiots who live together

Tim: You make us a family, Danny

Danny: Well, I'm like the cool rebel sibling, of course

Babs: No, you're the mom

Dick & Tim: Yeah, definitely the mom

Babs: Look, Danny, if you come back to us, I'll let you clean my room

Danny: Deal

Dick: Look! Here's my award for most rules broken!

Danny: That's not an award; That's just a really angry letter from Bruce

Dick, hanging it up on the wall: Well, it has the word 'most' in it so I'm calling it an award

Babs: I have seven empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them

Danny: Put spaghetti in 'em

Babs: I am currently taking suggestions from anyone but you

Tim: Put spaghetti in 'em

Babs: I am currently taking suggestions from anyone but you two

Dick: Put spaghetti in 'em

Babs: I am no longer taking suggestions

Tutelary: You need to drink water

Nightwing: No

Tutelary: The last guy who didn't drink water when I suggested died

Nightwing: Oh, my god!

Tutelary: In a plane crash

Nightwing: That sounds unrelated

Tutelary: I'm the one who crashed it. Don't disobey me

Danny, aggressively throwing water bottles: HYDRATE OR DIE-DRATE!

Tim: Uh...what's up with him?

Babs: He's trying to yell mental health and well-being into us

Danny: I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU

Dick, sniffling: It's working

Robin: How come when I have fun it's considered wrong?

Batman: People die when you have fun

Wally: I like your dress

Dick: Thanks; it was 50% off

Wally: I'd like it 100% off

Dick: The store can't just give out free stuff

Wally: That's not what I-

Dick: That's a horrible what to run a business, Wally

Dick: I have decided that I am, in fact, a snack. People are just not hungry

Wally, under his breath: I'm starving

Tim: Why are you smiling?

Dick: What? Can't I just be happy?

Danny: Bruce tripped and fell in the parking lot

Dick: I can't find it... I can't find it!

Babs: What did you loose?

Dick: I can't find it! I can't find my happiness!

Babs: What do you-

Tim: He means he can't find Danny

Danny: So... I see you've been spending a lot of time with Kon recently

Tim: No, Danny, it's not what it looks like, I swear!

Danny: Oh, really? No reason for me to be jealous?

Tim: No! You're the only one for me

Danny: Is that so?

Tim: I promise! Kon and I are just dating, okay? He's my partner

Danny: So there are no best-friend-feelings involved?

Tim: You are still my one and only best friend! He's just the love of my life, nothing more!

Danny: But I'm still the platonic love of your life, right?

Tim: Of course, bro!

Danny: Bro...

Kon: What the-

#How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have #shenanigans #i've run out of colours! i don't have one for wally or kon!#i don't actually know if kon's gonna be in here or not #that's a later decision

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hungermakesmonsters · 9 months ago

Text

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Eighteen

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Violence. A lot more violence than usual. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 4.3k

A/N : if you haven't already voted for what you want to see me write next, you've got a day and a half left

MASTER LIST

Chapter Eighteen

It felt like the world was unravelling around him, like he was coming apart at the seams. While he’d said the words hours ago, it wasn’t until that moment that he started to feel the weight of them. He loved you. He loved you in a way that he’d never allowed himself to love anyone else. He loved you in a way that was so deep, so visceral that if he lost you, he knew he’d never recovered.

You were inexorably linked, two halves of one soul. You were everything to him and Billy knew he couldn’t go back to the empty, bleak life he’d been living, no matter how many times he’d tried to convince himself overwise over the last couple of months.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, running a red light to get to Krista’s building. Frank and Madani were talking but, to Billy, it all just sounded like static in his ears.

He couldn’t lose you.

He wouldn’t.

Pulling up, he killed the engine and before anyone could think to speak or question, he was out of the car, clearing the steps to the building two at a time. Frank and Madani had to rush to keep up with him, each still talking, calling after him. But Billy didn’t care about waiting, about figuring out ‘what to do’. No, Billy knew what he was going to do; he was going to make Krista talk, he was going to make her understand why fucking with you had been the worst decision of her life

It was a blur and, for a few minutes he lost himself; he kicked the door open and the next thing he knew, he had his hands around her throat, with Frank yelling at him to calm down.

“Where is she?” The voice that left his lips wasn’t quite his own.

“Gone. I don’t know where,” Krista answered, grinning despite the grip he had on her. “You’ll never find her. Just like you never found Mary.”

Somehow Frank managed to wrench Billy away but Krista didn’t even try to escape. She was enjoying the scene playing out before her, she was taking pleasure in his pain, glad that she’d had some small part in causing it.

“Mary?” It was Madani who spoke, gun drawn, stepping forwards. “Mary Poots?”

“Poor little Mary,” Krista said in a sing-song tone, barely holding back a laugh. “You thought you could replace me with someone so... fragile...”

“You killed Mary Poots?” Madani tried to continue her line of questioning despite the fact that Krista’s attention was fully on Billy.

“Now you’re going to lose the new one,” Krista carried on, all eyes on her. “I’ll take the next one, too. And the one after that. All of them. Every last one, until I’m all you have left.”

“You’re fucking insane,” Billy spat and that drew a laugh from Krista.

“If I am, it’s because of you, because you infected me...” she laughed again. “Or, no, I suppose it was Layla... not that it matters. You fuck up everything you touch, don’t you, Billy?”

“Just tell me where she is!” Billy demanded.

He lunged towards her, but Frank was too quick, too strong, wrapping an arm around him and holding Billy back.

“I don’t know,” she answered, still smiling, seemingly unbothered. “I never asked and he never told. You shouldn’t worry, I’m sure she’ll make a beautiful bride. Her fiance was so happy to finally have her back.”

Billy snapped and snarled, struggling against Frank and against himself, his last shred of control quickly starting to split and fray. He wanted to kill her, wanted to do what he knew he should have done months ago.

“She’s not worth it, Bill,” Frank told him, trying to pull him away.

“You’ve just confessed to murder in front of a Federal Agent,” Madani finally piped up, earning a laugh from Krista, before her attention shifted to Frank and Billy. “If Justin Drake has her and they’re still in the city, we’ll be able to track her down.”

“And what if she’s not still in the city?” Billy snapped. “There’s only a few hours until dawn...”

“We’re going to find her,” Madani answered, her tone sharpening to match his.

“And what about her?” Frank dared to ask, drawing all eyes back to Krista.

“I can send someone to pick her up.”

Krista finally moved, attempting to bolt for the door but, somehow, Billy managed to wrench free of Frank’s grip and lunged for her, knocking into her so hard that they both fell to the ground.

She ripped and tore at him with her nails, sinking her fangs into his shoulder and not letting go until his elbow connected with her face. They rolled, Billy ending up on top before she caught him across the face, clawing at him. She rolled him, straddling him as she landed another hit across his face while Billy’s hands gripped her throat.

By the time Frank pulled her away, they were both bloody and bruised, each bearing the marks of each other’s hatred. She kicked and screamed against Frank’s grip as he pushed her face first into the wall, pinning her there while Madani cuffed her to a radiator.

“You think that’s gonna hold her?” Frank asked, eying Krista as she dropped to the ground.

“It’s all we can do for now,” Madani answered. “We need to move.”

“She needs to die,” Billy snarled.

It felt like his body was vibrating with rage, like the thing inside of him had finally won. But, before he could move, Frank was on him, forcing him backwards, hands shoving him so hard that he knocked the breath from Billy’s lungs.

“You wanna waste time on her while your girl’s out there? You wanna throw her life away and yours just so you can settle a score with this crazy bitch?” He barked in Billy’s face, shoving him again. Billy didn’t have an answer. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now fucking move, this guy isn’t gonna find himself.”

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

It felt like the world had tilted on its axis and gripping the edge of the table was all you could do to keep yourself from falling. It had never made sense why he wanted you, why he’d been so adamant; you weren’t anything special, you weren’t worth anything (certainly not when compared to the amount of money your parents owed him). But, now you finally had answers, it made even less sense.

He was doing this because you looked like a distant relative who you shared only a fraction of your DNA with.

He was doing this because she had denied him, just like you were trying to deny him.

He wanted you to be a vampire, to spend an eternity at his side.

“No.” The word fell from your mouth with a certainty that you didn’t feel.

“You don’t have a choice,” he retorted, already sounding like he was done with your denials and insolence.

“Yes, I do,” you answered back, remembering all the times Billy had told you as much.

You hadn’t believed it at the time, you’d thought that it was just a line, something he was telling you to make you feel better but, now, faced with someone who wanted to remove your choice, your agency, you realised that Billy had been right all along. Lifting your head and sitting a little straighter, you silently promised yourself that you weren’t going to cower before him, you weren’t going to let this sorry excuse for a man decide your future.

“You can do what you want to me. I’ll never be yours,” you told him. “Even if it takes my whole life, I’ll do everything I can to escape you.”

“I don’t know what you think you can -”

“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” you interrupted, not letting him get the upper hand, not letting him treat you like the naive child you had been when you last sat across from him. “You will never get what you want from me.”

Anger flickered across his face and it took him more than a few seconds to tamp it down again. Obviously he hadn’t been expecting such resistance from you.

But then came the laugh, a sound that caused dread to coil in your stomach.

“Like I told you; I’m a patient man and I have an eternity to bend you to my will,” he sai, his voice softer than his expression. “There might be nothing I can do to you anymore, but I already told you that your sister, her children...”

“You won’t hurt them.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because you’ll lose your leverage over me if you do,” you answered, trying to hide the discomfort in your voice, hating that you were gambling with your sister’s safety. “And if you think I’m being difficult now, you’ve got no idea how much worse I can be.”

Drake let out another callous huff of laughter, a twisted smile pulling at his lips.

“You’re right, but there are other ways to hurt you, aren’t there? Other people close to your heart...” he trailed off for a moment, letting his words sink in. “What about William Russo or his little human friend? Karen is it?”

As much as you wanted to remain defiant, the thought of anything happening to Billy made you feel sick to your stomach. You couldn’t let anything happen to him. You wouldn’t.

Before you realised you were doing it, your hand was gripping the knife in front of you.

It took him by surprise when you lunged across the table, aiming the blunt knife towards his chest despite knowing that it wouldn’t be enough to kill him. You didn’t care. The outcome of this didn’t matter; either he would die or you would. Either way, Billy would be safe.

Plates and glasses smashed as you half-fell over the table, tipping his chair back and knocking him to the floor, you on top of him.

His fingers gripped your wrist, stopping you as you tried to bring the knife down, holding the tip only a few inches from his chest.

There was noise all around you and it wasn’t until some time later that you realised it was you, that you were screaming, telling him you were going to kill him, that you wouldn’t stop until he was dead.

The struggle felt like it lasted a lifetime when, in reality, a few seconds after you’d cleared the table, one of his goons had arrived and pulled you off him. Kicking and screaming, you were carried back to your room and thrown inside.

You landed with an awkward thud, pain radiating up your bad arm despite the cast. But, seconds later, you were back on your feet, banging against the door, trying to get out, only to find that you were locked in. But that didn’t stop you from continuing to kick and scream at the door, telling him that you were going to kill him, that the only way he’d stop you was by killing you.

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

After they’d left Josie’s, Frank had text Karen to let her know what was going on and where they were headed. She decided to stick around and keep asking questions around the bar, making sure that nothing had been missed but, after half an hour or so, she decided to call it a night and head home.

She left with your suitcase, having stuffed Bill the Beagle back inside, rolling it along the sidewalk behind her. Her apartment was only a couple of blocks away and, despite the late hour, she’d never felt particularly unsafe walking home from Josie’s.

“Hey, uh, excuse me Miss?” A voice rang out.

Not thinking, Karen stopped and turned, seeing a large man dressed in a dark suit heading towards her.

“Can I help you with something?” She asked, finally noticing the limo parked in front of Josie’s.

It couldn’t be a coincidence; Josie’s wasn’t the sort of place anyone would want to leave a limousine, especially not twice in one night. Karen took a step back, realisation causing her blood to turn ice cold in her veins.

“Yeah, I think that suitcase belongs to a friend of mine,” he answered, slowly stepping towards her.

The moment he started to move, Karen reached into her purse, trying to find her gun but not taking her eyes off of him for even a second.

“Funny,” she answered, “because this case happens to belong to a friend of mine.”

Gun in hand, she lifted it, pointing it straight at him, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. She couldn’t be sure if he was a vampire or not, but she wasn’t going to take any chances, and aimed the gun at his chest. It might not kill him, but it would definitely slow him down.

“Where is she?” Karen demanded.

“It’s none of your concern,” he answered back, daring to take the slightest step but hesitating again when Karen lifted the gun a little higher, aiming for his heart.

“I said, where is she?” She repeated, taking a step of her own.

“She’s with her fiance and if I were you, I’d just hand over the case.”

Karen opened her mouth about to refuse again when he moved, clearing the distance between them with a supernatural speed, knocking the gun from her grasp and into the road. As she moved to grab the suitcase, he struck her with the back of his hand, knocking her off balance and sending her to the pavement.

Karen scrambled for the gun but, by the time she had it, he was almost back at the limo, throwing the case into the passenger side before moving around to the driver's door.

As he started up the engine, Karen noticed a taxi and quickly tried to flag it down. When it didn’t stop, she stepped out into the street in front of it, making it stop for her.

“Follow that limo,” she told the driver as she climbed into the back.

“Listen, lady, I -” the driver started to refuse.

“No, you listen, the piece of shit that owns that limo has kidnapped a friend of mine and I have a gun, so you can either follow that limo and get paid at the end of this, or I’m going to have to take your taxi.”

The threat hung in the air for a few seconds. She could see the driver wearily eyeing her in the rearview, no doubt taking note of the gun in her lap and her split lip.

“Alright, fine, just don’t go doin’ anything crazy,” he muttered before starting after the limo.

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

They were barely outside of Krista’s building when Frank got the call. Billy watched as his friend's expression dropped from one of calm control to absolute rage in less than five seconds. He’d been busy listening to Madani, to all the measures she was putting in place to try and track you down; tracking the limo, credit cards, checking hotel guest lists. It only vaguely occurred to him that it wasn’t until then that he heard your so-called fiance’s name for the first time tonight.

Justin Drake.

Not that it mattered what his name was; he’d be a dead man the moment Billy got his hands on him.

But, for a few seconds, all of that stopped mattering and his attention was fixed on Frank.

“Are you okay?” he demanded of the person on the other end of the call. “Did he hurt you?” There was a pause for an answer that Billy couldn’t quite make out over the sound of traffic. “Where are you? No - no, stay outside and wait for us. We’ll be there in five minutes.”

“What’s going on?” Billy asked the moment Frank ended the call.

“He sent one of his goons after the suitcase. Karen followed him back to the Park View hotel, she thinks that’s where he’s got her.” Frank explained.

A second later Madani was relaying that information on her call, but Billy was already moving for the car, and Frank was quick to follow.

“Wait, I can get back up and -” Madani started, falling into step behind the men.

“We ain’t waiting,” Frank answered.This time it was his turn to be angry. They’d gone near Karen and, now, it was personal for him.

The conversation continued as they got in the car and carried on until they arrived at the hotel; Madani wanted to wait for back-up. Billy and Frank didn’t. It was that simple. They weren’t going to wait.

“You can help us, or you can stay here,” Frank told her, though his attention was immediately focused on Karen the moment he saw her, his blood starting to boil at the sight of her split lip. “We’re killin’ this fucker.”

“Yeah we are,” Billy responded.

Frank gave Karen some quick instructions, telling her to go wait in the car and to stay out of the way. He tried to tell Madani to wait with her but the Homeland Agent refused, trying one last time to convince them to just wait a few more minutes for back-up to arrive. Before she could even finish, Billy was moving past her and heading for the hotel’s entrance.

He moved through the lobby, drawing stares from everyone that looked his way; blood from the wounds that Krista had inflicted was still fresh on his clothes and he looked as if he’d just torn someone apart with his bare hands.

By the time he reached the front desk, there were already two members of the hotel security team standing there.

“I’m Agent Madani with Homeland Security,” she spoke before anyone else had the chance, and before Billy had the opportunity to do anything stupid. “You have a Justin Drake staying here, I need access to his rooms, now.”

“I can’t just -” the receptionist started to answer.

“He has a woman with him up there, doesn’t he?” Madani asked, stepping up to the desk. “A woman that turned up earlier tonight?”

Billy took a step forward, getting ready to take matters into his own hands.

“I can’t reveal -” the receptionist tried again.

“He kidnapped her,” Billy snapped, “and he’s planning on hurting her. So you can either let us in peacefully, or we can make you.”

The security guards moved closer but then, at the sight of Frank stepping forwards, they seemed to shy away.

“We can wait for a warrant, or you can let us in now. Either way, if anything happens, it’ll be on you,” Madani explained. “Call Homeland - hell, call the cops, the FBI, whoever you want. Have us arrested when we’re done. But if anything happens, her blood will be on your hands.”

“And we’ve got Karen Page from The Bulletin sittin’ outside waitin’ for her friend to come out, so I suggest if you don’t wanna be named as complicit in this...” Frank let the threat go unfinished.

The receptionist had turned snow white, her hands trembling as she handed over a keycard and directed them to the elevator. The two hotel security members followed after.

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

You heard the commotion before everything went to hell.

There was a phone call; from what you could gather they had a friend in the FBI who’d gotten wind of a Homeland investigation, and there was about to be a raid on the hotel. They needed to get out of there, as quickly as they could.

“Come on,” he demanded, holding out his hand to you.

“No.”

“I’ve had enough of your games,” he muttered, his voice changing, turning softer. “Now, come with me.”

When he held out his hand again, you took a step towards him, wanting to do exactly as he said.

“N-no,” you said, shaking your head, trying to block him out, trying not to let him sway you.

“Come on, come with me. Right now,” he tried again.

Again you took a step, then another. Something inside of you told you to stop, to fight him, but you couldn’t. All you wanted to do was go with him.

“That’s it, come along and -”

“Boss, they’re in the elevator!”

The sudden disruption was enough to snap you out of it. You stepped back, reestablishing the space between you. You weren’t going to make this easy for him.

“Told you I’d never be yours,” you muttered defiantly, triumphantly.

You both knew that there was no way that Drake was going to get out of this, at least not with you at his side. He’d have to let you go if he wanted to escape.

But you realised all too late what letting go looked like to Justin Drake.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” He asked, starting towards you. “I would have given you everything if only you’d chosen not to act like a tempermental whore. But it’s really no bother. I’m sure when your niece is old enough she’ll be far more amenable, far more grateful for what I have to offer.”

You stepped back as he closed the distance, until you found yourself against the window.

“At least I get to have one last taste,” he muttered darkly.

“No!”

Your arms shot out, trying to push him away, trying to keep him from biting you. But he was bigger than you and infinitely stronger. He pushed you back, held you in place despite your thrashing and screaming. You tried everything you could to stop him from pressing closer and closer, trying to turn away as he bowed his head towards your neck.

“Not so defiant now, are you?”

“Please, no - no!” You screamed and begged, tears streaming down your face.

He bit down. Hard.

Fangs tore through flesh, but rather than lingering to feed, he pulled back, his lips and chin dripping dark with your blood.

It took a moment for you to realise that blood was slowly filling your throat, that he’d left you with more than just a puncture wound.

Your hand lifted as he pulled back and started to walk away, feeling the wound he’d left and the way blood was spurting from it. Lightheadedness quickly over took and you found yourself sliding down the glass and onto the floor. Desperately you reached for the hoodie you’d discarded on the floor when you’d changed for dinner, pressing it against the wound, hoping you’d survive long enough to see Billy one last time.

You weren’t sure what was happening, but you heard gunshots and shouting. Then someone was at your side, her hand holding the hoodie tighter against your wounds and shouting for Billy.

Madani.

(What was Madani doing there?)

“Hold on, help’s on the way,” she told you, but the words barely registered.

You had so many questions but it seemed too late to try and ask them.

But finally - finally - Billy was at your side. Dropping to his knees, his eyes filling with tears at the sight of you.

“B-Billy,” you managed to choke out despite the blood filling your mouth and lungs, “you’re h-here...”

You felt him squeezing your hand, holding you so tight, like he never wanted to let you go. There were tears in his eyes as he looked down at you and you knew exactly what they meant; you were dying. In your efforts to save him the pain of watching you die, you’d brought it about decades early.

“I told you,” he muttered softly, “I’ll never let you go.”

Madani continued to press the cloth against your wound but you could tell from Billy’s face that it wasn’t helping.

“S-sorry,” you tried to mutter, wishing that you had more time, wishing that you could apologise properly.

“Don’t,” he told you, “don’t try to talk. Just - just stay still, stay with me, it’s going to be alright.”

“I l-love -” you couldn’t finish, there was too much blood and you were starting to feel so cold, so tired.

“Hey - hey, hummingbird, keep your eyes on me. It’s going to be okay,” Billy told you, but his voice sounded so far away.

You struggled to hold his gaze, some part of you glad that you’d gotten to see him one last time, but the rest of you hated the agony on his face and the tears streaking down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he told you, squeezing your hand tighter, like he was trying to hold you in this life and not let you slip away. “I love you and - and I’m sorry, I know you’ll hate me but...”

The rest faded into the sound of your own panic, some part of you knowing what he was trying to tell you, knowing what he wanted to do. You tried to shake your head, tried to pull at his hand but you were so weak you could barely move.

You were so far gone that you didn’t hear him screaming and pleading with Frank, nor did you hear Frank’s initial refusal and Billy’s threat to do it himself.

Your eyes went wide when Frank loomed over you, looking at you for a moment, an unspoken apology colouring his features. You tried to speak, trying to say something - though, confronted with your own death, even you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. But you felt Billy’s hand squeezing yours and some piece of you wanted to hold on, wanted to have his hand in yours for longer than this moment, longer than the six months that you’d had together.

You wanted him.

You wanted the man you loved.

(It wasn’t fair. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to leave him.)

But it was too late. Your eyes fell shut and you let out a gurgled breath, and the last thing you heard was Billy’s shouts.

End Note : So, yeah... I have a lot of feelings about this chapter. I know it jumps around and I'm not the greatest at action sequences (I'm working on it). And I know people won't like the ending and so on, but I'm having fun. I'm not sure if next week will be the last part now or if I'll have an epilogue the week after to tie up loose ends. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and it wasn't a let down! Also I'm sorry if any typos slipped through, I lost a night of writing to go see Deadpool last night..

As ever, thank you so much for your support/reading/liking/reblogging/screaming at me in the comments! Have a great weekend!!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock

@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad

@vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17

@sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim

@countryday @weepingwitchofthewest @broadwaybabe18 @bunnygirlwriter876 @oliviaewl

@rosey1981 @benbarnesprettygurl @rachlovesactors @robertthehoover @ladyblacky

@goldenbeskar @mydarlingnana @strwbrrynd @cheshirecat484 @jvanilly

@ashy-kit @jazzclubprincess @arwensloanebarnes

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #(ob)ts ff #billy russo imagine

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sunshineangel0 · 26 days ago

Text

chapter twelve

pairing- bang chan x OC (Chi Nakamura) genre- angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn romance word count- ~1.4k warnings- media harassment, emotional distress, invasive paparazzi, brief mention of internet hate, self-doubt a/n- sorry that this chapter is such a punch to the gut 😔💔

Chi woke to buzzing.

Not the lazy, harmless kind that blended into dreams and passed unnoticed. This was urgent. Violent. Her phone skittered across the nightstand like it was trying to throw itself off the edge.

She groaned, eyes still heavy, and reached for it with a clumsy hand. Her fingers grazed the screen before she managed to trap it beneath her palm, pressing it to her face.

The glare made her squint. She blinked blearily at the screen.

47 unread texts 19 missed calls Instagram: +3,841 followers Twitter: You’re trending.

She sat up too fast. Her stomach lurched. For a second, her vision swam.

Her thumb hovered over the Twitter notification, hesitant. Her pulse thrummed, each beat louder than the last.

A string of texts loaded in next, lighting up the screen. All from Mina.

MINA: CHI WAKE UP MINA: DO NOT OPEN TWITTER MINA: I REPEAT. MINA: DO. NOT. OPEN. TWITTER. MINA: (you opened it didn’t you)

Chi’s breath caught.

She hesitated.

Then she opened Twitter anyway.

Big mistake.

The first tweet in her feed had nearly 200k retweets. A low-res screenshot. The café’s soft lighting. Her and Chris behind the counter. He was leaning in. Her head tilted. The moment mid-kiss. Her eyes closed. His hoodie pushed just far enough back to expose the curve of his jaw—the one fans would recognize anywhere.

The caption was brutal in its simplicity: “Bang Chan and mystery girl caught in full PDA at café in Seoul. Is this his secret girlfriend?”

There was a video, too. It autoplayed.

Her laugh. His hand on her hip. The kiss, from a slightly different angle.

It spread through the screen like a slow burn. Something deeply personal turned into public fodder.

The hashtags were worse: #BangChan #CoffeeGirl #BangChanGirlfriend

It wasn’t just trending. It was viral.

Chi didn’t move. Her limbs felt like they belonged to someone else.

Her gaze drifted from tweet to tweet, unable to look away. Her heart kept hammering. Faster. Louder. Like a countdown.

She sank back against the headboard, her fingers wrapped tight around the phone.

The blood rushed from her ears. Everything sounded far away.

A notification lit up again.

8:52 AM – Messages Chris ☕: Hey. Chris ☕: I’m so sorry. Chris ☕: Are you okay? Chris ☕: Please text me back.

She stared at it for a long time. The words looked real, but they didn’t feel it.

She started to type. Something sharp, something honest. Paused. Backspaced. Typed again. Deleted it all.

Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

What was she even supposed to say? Hey, thanks for ruining my life overnight? She wanted to scream. Or disappear. Or both. But instead, she was going back to work. To the place where it all happened. Where everything used to feel safe. Her café. Her corner of the world.

When she got to Mochi & Bean, she knew something was wrong before she even reached the door.

There were people. Too many. Standing in clusters outside the café like it was a pop-up concert. But they weren’t customers.

Tripods. DSLRs. Phones held high on gimbals.

Teenagers with laminated signs that said “Bang Chan’s Mystery Girl 💕” in glitter pen. Middle-aged bloggers speaking directly to their livestreams. A girl crying. A man shouting questions into the crowd.

Someone had brought merch.

Chi’s breath hitched.

This wasn’t her café anymore.

She took the long way around, slipping through the alley. Her steps were light, cautious, like she was doing something illegal. She ducked behind the trash bins, heart thudding as she unlocked the back door with shaking hands.

Inside, the light was too bright. The walls too quiet.

Mina was already there, pacing behind the counter like she’d been waiting for hours. Her hair was pulled into a rushed bun. She looked like she hadn’t blinked in a while.

“Chi,” she said the moment their eyes met. “Don’t panic.”

Too late.

Chi let the door close behind her and leaned against it for support. Her legs felt hollow.

“Why are they here?” she asked, voice paper-thin.

Mina’s face softened. “They want a picture. Of you. They want to know if it’s real.”

Chi swallowed, throat tight. “Oh. Okay."

Mina’s jaw clenched. “He better be sorry”

The silence stretched.

"I hope hes writing a full apology on parchment paper,” Mina muttered. “With calligraphy. In his blood.”

11:17 AM – Messages Chris ☕: I didn’t think it would blow up this fast. Chris ☕: I’m so sorry. Chris ☕: I’m trying to fix it. Chris ☕: I’m meeting with management later. Chris ☕: I’ll protect you. I promise. Chris ☕: Please talk to me. Chris ☕: Are you at the café? Chris ☕: Don’t go out front. There are people there. Chris ☕: I didn’t know someone was recording. Chris ☕: I should’ve been smarter. I’m so fucking sorry. Chris ☕: I never wanted this for you. Chris ☕: If I could take it back, I would. Chris ☕: Say something. Anything. Please. Chris ☕: I don’t care what happens to me. Just say you’re okay.

Read 12:06 PM

Chris ☕: Chi? Chris ☕: Are you mad? Chris ☕: Actually… no, don’t answer that. You have every right. Chris ☕: I just want to fix it. Chris ☕: I don’t even know how to yet. But I will. Chris ☕: Just… please don’t disappear on me.

Chi typed: You should’ve protected me before the kiss.

She stared at it. Her thumb hovered over Send.

Then she hit backspace. One press at a time.

She sent nothing.

The café was chaos.

People came in—but not for coffee. Not for the usual croissants or oat milk lattes. They came with wide eyes and zoom lenses. Some just hovered. Others treated her like a tourist attraction.

A woman leaned across the counter and tried to take a picture of Chi’s name tag.

A man asked, “So, what’s it like dating a celebrity? Is he good in bed?”

Someone livestreamed her from the corner booth. Another whispered, not so quietly, “She doesn’t even look like a celeb. I don’t get it.”

By noon, Chi flipped the sign to Closed, locked the door, and sank behind the register. She sat on the cold tile floor, legs tucked in, arms around her knees.

She didn’t cry. Not yet. She just felt—gone.

Later that night, long after the café had gone still, Chi heard voices from the back hallway.

Two staff members. Whispering. They didn’t know she was nearby.

“She’s not built for this.”

“I mean, she’s sweet, but come on. This won’t last. He’ll get over it.”

Chi didn’t move. She didn’t say anything.

Because the thing was—they weren’t being cruel.

They were being honest.

And somehow, that hurt worse.

Maybe they were right. Maybe she really wasn’t built for this. She made lattes. She liked quiet. She wasn’t supposed to be famous for someone else’s kiss.

9:43 PM – Messages Chi: I don’t think I can do this. [Delivered.]

The typing bubble appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then nothing.

skz general: @velvetmoonlght @scarlet789 @estella-novella @nightmarenyxx @pixie-felix

Mochi and Bean: @offl-ine @missvanjii @watchingover-hypegirl @namchanhyung @d0nnie---dark0 @queenofdumbfuckery

(if you wanna be added to the taglist comment below!)

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abarbaricyalp · 4 months ago

Text

All That and a Partridge in a Pear Tree Too

Merry Christmas! Don't look at the date.

It had started on December 13th. It was easy enough to remember because Bucky had texted him: Happy Twelve Days of Christmas. Your countdown starts now. and a gif of a very fat orange cat wearing a Santa hat.

The twelve days of Christmas happen AFTER Christmas, Sam had answered.

Bucky had texted him back a shrugging emoji.

They hadn't seen each other in a week or so, but Sam knew Bucky was in Louisiana because he hadn't turned off the cat camera, so Sam got a notification every time he passed in front of one of them. Luckily, Bucky had the motivation of the cats as far as daily activities went, so he mostly moved from the couch to the bed and then back to the couch every four hours and stayed out of range of the cameras when he was getting himself into trouble.

Sam was stuck in New York. He'd been stuck in New York for four days and before that Bucky had been in DC, so the holiday season was not exactly going to plan.

Countdown for what? he asked a few minutes later.

Bucky didn't respond, which wasn't unusual. He was a terrible texter.

It was late that evening when another text from his partner came in. Sam had all but forgotten about the impending countdown, chalking it up to a series of gifts or letters or something romantic like that. Bucky was good at those things, even though he pretended not to be. Sam was actually kind of surprised when flowers hadn't shown up at his door after the earlier conversation.

He'd only just gotten back to his hotel room when the text came in. He opened it while kicking his shoes off and yanking his tie loose enough to wrangle over his head.

The text loaded first, Come sit on Santa's lap ;) and the picture loaded right after it, before Sam even had time to make sure he was alone.

Mostly it was Bucky's abdomen, flexed and kind of wet for some reason. He was sprawled across the reading chair in their bedroom, long legs stretched in front of him, spread and lazy and inviting. Leather suspenders stretched along his body, connecting to lush red velvet pants that looked hardier and hotter than they had any reason to, especially since there was white fuzz along the waistband and cuffs. He was wearing the black combat boots that he knew did some sort of thing to Sam.

The picture cut off at his shoulders, rounded and tense and perfect. The line of his arm followed to the waistband of his pants, where he was lazily shoving it down, revealing the long, hard line of his cock, half exposed, half hidden beneath his pants.

Sam's hand went to his own crotch without him meaning to. It was a tantalizing tease and he could feel it working its way through him.

I don't know if I've been very good this year, he texted back with a pouting emoji.

He finished kicking off his pants and shrugged out of his shirt, all without turning off the screen of his phone. Bucky had read receipts and typing notifications off, because he was a cagey asshole, so the return text was fully a surprise.

That's my favorite kind of year.

Sam dropped himself on the bed and palmed over himself again. He still wasn't done staying at the photo when a second message came in.

You can still have your present.

It was accompanied by another photo. This time, Bucky had shoved his pants down and was fisting the top half of his cock, exposed flank tense. Sam wanted to put his teeth on it.

He switched from his messages app to the cat camera so he could watch Bucky in real time, but Bucky had been smart enough-- enough of an asshole-- to move the chair out of view of the camera. Sam exchanged a few cursed words at that, but went back to the pictures without much reticence.

What am I supposed to do with that? he asked, as if he wasn't already jerking off to a multitude of thoughts about exactly what he'd like to do with that. I already have one of those.

The next picture caught some of Bucky's face. He'd turned to hide it against the wingback, but Sam could still see half of his wide grin and the crinkling around his eye.

Sometimes two is better than one.

Sam couldn't argue with that. He slipped his hand beneath his boxers, starting to jerk himself off in the hopes that Bucky would send another picture where he wasn't hiding his dick. One didn't come. Sam could still appreciate those boots and the leather suspenders though.

He came across his stomach before he even really got to enjoy the jerking off. Lazily, he put two fingers in his mouth (Bucky could extrapolate what he wanted from that) and took a picture of his messy abdomen and mouth.

Whoops, still being bad, he texted, then got up to take a shower.

But you make it look so good, Bucky answered. Wish your fingers were in MY mouth though.

Sam laughed as he shucked his boxers into the corner and turned on the water. Bucky was so damn easy sometimes.

Naughty, Mr. Barnes.

And once again, he was unsurprised that Bucky didn't answer. Hell, he'd probably fallen asleep. Sam got into the shower and ran up the water bill thinking about those pictures again.

Continue on AO3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier #sambucky fanfic #thunderbolts #captain america brave new world #cabnw #writing

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 8 months ago

Text

Faithfully

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauders Era]

Pairing: James Potter x Female Reader

Characters: James Potter, Female Reader, Harry Potter, Sirius Black

Word Count: 2250

Rating: Teen

Summary: And lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be.

Tags/ Warnings: Hogwarts, Summer Challenge, Writing Challenge, Song Fic, Band AU, Can be lily if you want, Kissing, Tour, Band Life, Baby Harry potter,

Notes: This is my summer writing challenge 2024. Seven fics over seven days - all will be hp based and song fics.

Summer Challenge 2024 // Song Inspo

‘Do you know when you’ll be home?’ you asked quietly, careful not to wake the baby sleeping soundly on your chest.

‘Dunno,’ James said with a sigh, ‘a day or two? I’m sure we’ve got a gap before our Paris show. Could probably squeeze in a visit.’

‘You don’t have to if it’ll be too much hassle,’ you said, trying to keep your tone light and unbothered. You didn’t want him to have to rush only for him to be home for less than twelve hours but you were missing him.

‘Seeing you two is never too much hassle,’ he said, the smile present in his voice though as you listened down the line you heard the noise of someone coming into the room, a muffled voice, which sounded like Sirius, asking if he was ready or not. You heard him ask for a minute before he put his attention back on you and said, ‘love I have to go.’

‘I know I heard,’ you said, a sigh escaping you before you could stop it.

‘I’ll call after the show I promise,’ he vowed.

‘I know you will,’ you said, ‘you better go. Love you.’

‘Love you more,’ he replied before he hung up leaving you with nothing more than a dial tone. As you placed the receiver down you heard a whimper and looked down to find you baby boy, Harry, looking disgruntled from being jostled about. He’d not opened his eyes though and after a moment of watching him you realised he hadn't woken and so as quietly as you could you climbed out of the chair so you could carry him upstairs to bed.

You put him in his cot as gently as you could, hoping he’d not be able to tell the difference between your touch and the feel of the mattress. Fortunately he continued to sleep leaving you free to leave though you still stood there for a good five minutes so as not to tempt fate. It'd been a nightmare to get him off to sleep tonight though that had been the trend for the last few weeks as the more he missed James the worse his behaviour got. You didn’t blame him. You missed him too. But you knew it was for the best.

You’d been with James since school and you loved him just as much now as you did then. You’d moved in together, gotten married and even had a baby despite being so young. People had told you it was foolish, that you should wait a while, but you didn’t see the point. But now you were starting to wonder if they were right.

Because James was a musician, he and his three friends had formed a band called the marauders at school and had continued to try their hand at it after they’d left in lieu of what your dad would call a ‘proper job’. But they weren’t some kids playing at rockstars. They were good. Phenomenal showman and they'd been signed not long after leaving school. You’d been living the high life. The wife of a rockstar.

Until two little pink lines on a stick had knocked that all of kilter. You loved Harry, more than anything in the world, but he had definitely changed your life. Instead of shows and parties you were now at home with nappies and bottles. You saw James infrequently though he always called whenever he had a chance. It wasn’t even as though you missed staying out till three am or drinking to oblivion. You missed being there, watching your husband give the performance of a lifetime and basking in the high with him. You missed waking up in the same bed, wrapped around one another until you had to drag yourselves to the next venue or tour bus. You missed James being at home with you and Harry, watching how your baby grew into the fabulous little boy he was becoming. You’d only had a few solid months together after he was born before he’d had to leave and though you’d met him for a show here and there or he’d raced home to see you it wasn’t the same.

Quite simply you missed your husband.

You missed him so much that as you climbed into bed, exhausted and sad, you found tears running down your face as you pressed it into his pillow for comfort.

✵✵✵

‘What’s that? Is it a fishy?’ you cooed, moving the toy fish through the water as Harry splashed at it, ‘is it gonna get ya? It’s gonna get ya!’

You moved the fish until it was nestled in his neck making him wobble and giggle as it tickled along his skin.

‘It’s gotcha!’ you laughed as he fumbled to take it off you, his chubby fingers locking around it as he waved it towards your face, ‘is it gonna get mummy?’

You were face to face with him, pressing kisses on his plump cheeks as he clunked your face with the plastic fish, when you heard someone say, ‘well I’d say do you want me to take over but you look as though you’re having far too much fun for me to intervene.’

You whipped around immediately at the voice, finding James stood in the doorway, leaning against it looking bemused. Having not expected him home for another day or so you were stunned but not enough that you couldn’t hurl yourself up off the floor and into his arms which wrapped around you on instinct, the pair of you absorbing every inch of love you could from one another.

‘Hiya,’ he said as you pulled back, his hand on your cheek.

‘Hi,’ you beamed, ‘what you doing home?’

‘Oh charmin,’ he said, rolling his eyes which earned him a swat on the chest. James ignored it, moving to it on the edge of the bath to watch Harry who upon seeing him immediately decided he was done with bath time and offered his arms up to be picked up. You nodded as he looked to you for permission, not knowing where in the process you’d gotten up to, and then he grabbed a towel from the side of the bath and scooped Harry up into his arms.

‘Hiya mate,’ he said, pressing a kiss to his cheek which earned him a sloppy one of his own. You smiled just watching the pair of them, your heart swelling with pride and love which grew as he looked at you with a grin, ‘you two happy to see me then?’

‘Ecstatic, but it’s nearly bedtime,’ you said, sadness tinging your voice. As James stood up from the bath, Harry now on his hip you ran a hand through Harry’s wet hair. It was flat against his head, though you doubted that would last long once it was dry. Back to the unruly mess it was like James. James watched you, an encouraging smile on his face as he said, ‘well then let's get ready for bed.’

You nodded and headed out the bathroom. He followed you, babbling to Harry as you led them through to his nursery where you’d laid everything out. Despite being prepared for bedtime it was a struggle to get him dry and dressed as he refused to be more than three inches from James but eventually you got him bundled into his pyjamas and ready for a bedtime story.

Whilst James took a seat in the chair in Harry’s nursery you nipped downstairs to make up his evening bottle and as you boiled the kettle you tried to will yourself to be happy, to not look at the clock and think about how he’d be gone in however many hours and you two would be on your own again. And in that vein you rushed to get Harry’s bottle ready so that you could make the most of the time together though by the time you got back upstairs James was near the end of his bedtime story.

You perched on the arm of the chair, swapping his book for the bottle which Harry took to immediately, content on watching the pair of you whilst you watched him. James placed a hand on your thigh as you leant down to nestle into him, placing a kiss on the top of his head. Harry was content with staring at you both but the more he drank the heavier his eyes got until he was asleep, the bottle dropping from his grasp before James caught it. When he didn't disturb you realised it was probably safe to transfer him and so moved out of his way so that James could put him in his cot. To your surprise he went down well, so well you wondered if James would even believe you when you told him of the anarchy of bedtimes you’d been living with. But still you waited for a moment, watching him to ensure he was fully settled. James was watching him too, adoration plastered on his face.

‘Cmon,’ you said, pulling his attention away from the sleeping tot, ‘if we stare at him any longer he might wake up.’

‘Good point,’ he chuckled quietly following you back out to the bathroom. Whilst you drained the bath and sorted Harry’s toys out he washed the used bottle in the sink.

‘So how long have we got?’ you asked, draining water out of a plastic sea creature before tossing it into the small box for bath toys.

‘Before I have to leave for Paris?’ he asked, leaning against the sink as he watched you.

‘Yeah,’ you said, trying not to sound too disheartened.

‘Have to meet the boys at Dover for eleven,’ he said, checking his watch, ‘so about twelve hours.’

‘Great twelve hours and we’ll be sleeping for most of it,’ you said as you threw the last of the toys in the box and pulled the plug. You didn’t look at him, instead watching the swirling water so that he couldn’t see your face but he could sense your disappointment and moved to hug you from behind pulling you into his chest.

‘You sound disappointed,’ he said as he placed his chin on your shoulder, watching you in the mirror.

‘Not with you,’ you said, moving your hand to his cheek and stroking it gently, ‘I just miss you that’s all. We both do.’

‘I miss you both too,’ he said, turning you around to hold you close. He looked tired, the skin beneath his eyes tinged purple which didn’t surprise you. He’d probably gotten to bed well into the morning before a full day in the car to get home.

‘Well we’ve got twelve hours I suppose,’ you reasoned, ‘if you can stay awake that is. You look shattered.’

‘Actually that’s something I wanted to speak to you about,’ he said.

‘What?’ you asked, confused.

‘Well I was thinking we could spend the night packing for you to come with me tomorrow,’ he said simply.

‘What me and Harry come to Paris?’ you scoffed.

‘Paris, Brussels, Berlin, Cologne-’

‘Babe that’s your entire tour,’ you said, the piece of paper pinned to your fridge with the dates you’d committed to memory flashing to your mind.

‘Yeah,’ he shrugged.

‘You want me to come on tour with you?’ you asked in disbelief.

‘You’ve done it before,’ he shrugged.

‘And Harry?’ you reasoned.

‘Well I don’t think he’s old enough to stay home alone,’ he teased, earning a smack on the chest which made him laugh.

‘We can't come on tour with you!’ you chastised.

‘Why not?’ he asked.

‘He’s a baby!’ you reasoned, ‘he needs routine and home comforts and-‘

‘Two parents who aren’t miserable,’ James said, looking at you pointedly. You shifted under the weight of his gaze but he moved so that you were looking at him by taking a seat on the bath, pulling you in between his legs as his arms locked around you.

‘Babe I know what we said when Harry was born. I know we wanted a normal life for him but our life isn’t exactly normal. It’s never gonna be normal so long as we’re doing this thing,’ he reasoned, ‘and I’m not saying there's not going to have to be adjustments, we're not gonna be able to act like we did before but we’ll still be together. That’s what I want.’

‘Me too,’ you said, ‘but all the travelling and the shows-’

‘He’ll get used to it,’ he vowed, ‘I promise it’s better to have a life that’s a little chaotic but happy rather than one that’s normal and miserable.’

You deliberated that point for a moment. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Everyone you’d spoken to when pregnant had told you that the road would be no place for a family but maybe they were wrong. Because they'd been wrong about everything else.

They’d assumed you’d gotten married because you’d gotten knocked up, not that James had been walking around with a ring in his pocket for six months before he’d gotten up the courage to ask. They assumed that you came on tour to keep an eye on him, not because he’d managed to talk you round into attending so many dates it had become easier to just join them for the entire thing rather than think of another excuse to give to your old boss on why you’d not turned in for yet another shift. When people saw you in town, shopping or in the park with Harry they assumed you’d been left behind to raise him whilst James did whatever he wanted. They pictured him bedding fans or hookers instead of running back to his hotel to call you like he did every night, the two of you talking until one of you fell asleep. They assumed that you staying behind had been his choice and not yours.

But maybe James was right.

After all, what use was routine when it was different for half the year. Harry got used to having two parents and then was forced back to having one, his dad a stranger popping in every so often and leaving him more confused than ever. And it wasn’t just James he missed. He missed his uncles, James’ bandmates, all of whom adored him and showered him with love. He also missed you, the person you were around James.

The road wasn’t a place to raise a baby but who said? Maybe you could make it work, at least now whilst he was small.

‘You’re right,’ you agreed, moving to perch on his knee, ‘I am miserable. Harry too.’

‘And me,’ he said, ‘and the boys truth be told.’

‘Yeah?’ you giggled, ‘miss me that much do they?’

‘Of course. You’re mum to more than just Harry, remember,’ he chuckled, ‘and apparently I’m no fun to be around when you’re not about.’

‘That makes two of us,’ you mused.

‘So you’ll come with?’ he asked hopefully, his thumb moving gently along your denim clad thigh.

‘How could we refuse?’ you smiled. James beamed a smile and then leaned into kiss you, his lips capturing yours gently for a moment before he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours, still smiling.

‘I will say one thing though,’ you said.

‘What's that darling?’ he asked.

‘The sex isn’t going to be half as good when we’re seeing each other all the time,’ you said, your mind on those incidents when he’d managed to see you over past few months, the short time span and neediness in the both of you serving as conduit for passion you’d ever experienced before.

‘Hmm you might be right,’ he said, ‘but we’ll just have to keep trying to recreate it then won't we.’

‘Definitely,’ you giggled.

#my writing #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fic #marauders #marauders fic #summer challenge #faithfully

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