#I met his mom and she made note to put me on a list of potential matches for her son | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moon-rivr · 6 months

Note

Miguel with a chubby reader(specifically hipdips and a big stomach;and if you don’t mind,a toothgap) make it as kinky as you like friend🫶

-angel anon🪽

thigh worshipper

pairing: miguel o’hara x chubby fem reader

contents: oral (f receiving), brief thigh fucking, brief titty fucking, face sitting, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, some mommy issues, overall just smut

author’s note: got kinda carried away with this one 🫣 i hope you don’t mind that i mixed your request with one from @shadofireshinobi. anyways enjoy lol <3 (i hope i did the requests justice)

word count: 5.5K+

You were laying on your bed, scrolling through Tinder after realizing that you'd watched all the shows you had on your list. Though you weren't too enticed by the options appearing on your screen, it entertained you for the time being. You stared at the messages on your screen, noticing that none of them had asked you to go on a date but rather a invitation to come over.

Though you were conscious of the fact that you didn't fit the description of the 'conventionally attractive woman', you still wanted to be seen as something more than just a sexual object. You continued to swipe left at the men popping up on your phone until your phone started ringing, the word 'MOM' flashing at you.

"Hi mommy, how's it going?" You greeted her, trying to make some sort of conversation. Your relationship had been strained before you moved to Nueva York, but now it just felt like you were hanging on by a thin rope. "I'm gonna keep this short. Your brother asked me to tell you if you could bring him some food. Said that you would listen to me for some reason," she responded, cutting off every aspect of making friendly conversation.

"He's thirty years old, I'm sure he can manage to get food on his own," you grumbled, knowing that he'd used your need for motherly approval to get his way. "Just go give him some food, you're all each other has," she responded, the line cutting off after she spoke. "Bye," you mumbled to the dead line, hoping that some part of her would call back and ask you how you were doing, to provide you with some kind of advice.

But of course, you were only met with a black screen when you pulled the phone away from your ear. You got up from your bed and walked over to the kitchen, packing up what you made for yourself in a plastic tupperware. While you didn't exactly mind doing these favors for your brother, you weren't expecting to go back to work on your day off. You worked at Alchemax under the human resources department and he had a tendency to use that to his advantage, getting you to bring him lunch and whatnot.

"Y’know, you could've called me instead of mom if you wanted lunch," you greeted your brother as you came into the office, setting down the tupperware on his desk. He opened it up, the scents of spices filling up the room and he let out a small sigh in delight. "Yeah but it's so much easier to get you to comply when I tap into your mommy issues," he responded, putting the papers on his desk to the side. You sat across from him, rolling your eyes as you two talked about what's new at Alchemax.

"Don't forget about the barbecue I’m hosting on Saturday," your brother reminded you as you were walking out the door, and you gave him a thumbs up before leaving. You heard your phone buzz in your back pocket and you saw a message from a decent looking guy asking to get to know you better. You were instantly immersed into conversation, having a slimmer of hope that his intentions would be pure.

Your attention was taken away from your phone when you bumped into a very built man, the sounds of glass shattering forcing you to put your phone away. "Can you not see properly or something?" A voice looming over you spoke, agitation evident in his tone. you looked up to see that the man was staring down at you, his eyes flaring with annoyance and anger. "I'll help you clean those test tubes, i'm sorry about that," you responded, watching the liquid dribble through the floor. "Don't bother, just get out the way and go back to whatever low-paying intern gig you're doing."

Your nose flared as he spoke to you but before you could argue back to him, he'd already walked off to the janitor's closet. While you had offered to help him clean up the mess, you didn't feel responsible towards actually doing the task given the way he spoke to you. You carefully stepped around the glass and left the building, trying not to let his words agitate you too much. If luck has it, you'll never have to see that man again.

The day of the barbecue had approached you faster than you'd expected and you looked over at your closet for options on what to wear. You didn't want to appear too overdressed, but you didn't want to wear too little. You grabbed a black tank top and a pair of low-rise shorts, putting them on quickly. A younger version of yourself would've been self conscious of how your pudge appeared on the tank top or the stretch marks that showed on your thighs, but that version of yourself was no longer there and all you felt was pure happiness at seeing yourself.

You did some light makeup you wouldn't sweat off in the sun before heading towards the kitchen, grabbing some of the potato salad you'd made for the barbecue at your brother's request. You arrived at the event half an hour late but everyone was starting to get buzzed, so none of them made any note about it. You set down the tupperware on the table outside, glancing around at who'd arrived at the event.

It was composed of most of your coworkers, given that neither you or your brother tried too hard to make friends, and their kids running around in the backyard. Though you tried not to talk to geneticists at work, you found yourself getting attached to their kids whenever you went to events. Whether it was a form of healing your inner child, of being the mother figure that you never received growing up or if it was just to be the 'cool aunt', you didn't know but you'd grown to enjoy the kids' company more than your coworkers'.

Your eyes widen comedically when you notice the man you'd bumped into a couple days before, talking with your brother like they're the best of friends as he sipped on a Modelo. You viewed him through your peripheral, trying not to be so creepy in your staring as you tried to figure him out. He seemed cold and unappealing to hang out when you had bumped into him, but he was laughing and slapping your brother on the shoulder as they talked. You walked over to the food table, browsing through the options before you settled on getting a beef empanada.

"Do tell me your thoughts on the recipe after you're finished eating," someone's voice behind you snapped you out of your thoughts and you turned around to face the same man. Now that he'd mentioned that he made the empanadas, you were predetermined to hate them just out of spite. You took a bite out of the empanada, the beef and cheese melting perfectly on your tongue. It was savory, neither too salty nor too simple, but your ego couldn't let yourself admit that to him.

"They're alright, at best. I'd say Colombian empanadas are better," you responded with a small shrug, trying to mask your expression the best you could. He rolled his eyes as he watched you take another bite from the empanada, entertained by the way you couldn't help but lick your fingers after you were finished. "I'm Miguel, it's nice to meet you when you're not breaking all my test tubes," he finally spoke up after a couple seconds, but your attention was pried away from the man when you felt some light tugging on your shorts.

"Can you come play water balloons with us, pretty please?" A little girl with pig tails asked you, her eyes eerily similar to the man standing in front of you. "Gabriella, what did I say about getting messy?" He spoke up, looking down at the girl as he folds his arms. "Please daddy? I don't wanna be the only one not playing," Gabriella asked him, giving him her best version of puppy eyes. He let out a small grumble, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, looking down at the floor. "Fine, but have this lady here take care of you."

You joined Gabriella with the other kids as they threw water balloons at each other, eager to have some time away from the other adults at the party. You could feel their judgmental stares when you were eating your empanada, from the gap in your front teeth to the way that you ate, but you didn't really say anything since they didn't acknowledge it directly. You looked up to see that Miguel was staring at the two of you though someone was speaking to him at his side, one of the more renowned geneticists at the lab.

"Hey, who's that?" Miguel asked your brother once he got the opportunity to get away from the geneticist who talked his ear off about how the economy's going downhill. He'd tried asking other people at the party but they all offered him vague responses about how you were just a HR worker at Alchemax. "That's my sister, I'm surprised I haven't introduced you to her before. Why do you ask, though?" your brother responded, looking over at where the kids were playing.

"Just curious why a grown woman's playing with a bunch of children," he responded with a small shrug, folding his arms across his chest. "The kids like her, man. I think it's helpful to her since our mom wasn't exactly present in our life, sorta like healing her inner child," your brother responded, looking back over at Miguel before he walked away. Miguel wasn't sure why he was so fascinated by you, given how much of a klutz you could be but he found himself entertained by the idea that you didn't put up with his shit.

The group had aligned for a photo like at most reunions to hang up on the front walls of Alchemax, but you were pulled to the side by the girl taking the picture. "Excuse me but you can't be in the picture. you're all wet," she told you, her nose scrunching up as she looked at you. "Literally all the children are wet, so go ahead and tell me the real reason why you don't want me to be in the picture," you responded, folding your arms as you stared her down. "Well, you're not extremely flattering in this angle. You'd just ruin the picture if you got in there."

Miguel overheard this conversation and reunited everyone that was in the group, standing off to the side in solidarity. He wasn't sure why he felt so protective of you, of having a need to make sure you didn't feel hurt, but he wasn't going to question it too much. "Can you leave? You're kinda killing the vibe here," he spoke up behind you, despite the fact that he had no authority over who came to the party. Her eyes widen as she looked over at Miguel, her cheeks flushed as she tried to sputter an apology out to him. "I believe the person you need to apologize to is right in front of me, no?"

The girl looked at you, a disgusted look on her face like she couldn't believe that she had to be subjected to this. "You know what? I don't wanna hear your apology. Just get the fuck out of my brother's house," you told her before she opened her mouth and she reluctantly left, visibly defeated. Miguel looked down at you, a surprised expression coaxing his features but chose not to say anything. The group reunited once more for the picture and you chose to smile for it, the first smile you've given for the first time in a while in photos.

The party ended up winding down soon after that and you went home after helping your brother clean up the house. You were out on your porch, reading a book on one of the lawn chairs you'd gotten on sale with a cigarette hanging from your mouth. Your attention was diverted from your book as you saw Spider-Man hanging upside down from your porch.

"Don't you know those are bad for you?" He asked you, pointing towards your mouth as he kept his balance with one hand. "And don't you know dropping on your head is also bad for you?" You retorted, watching as he crawled into your lawn, settling down on the lawn chair next to you. You continued to read your book, occasionally taking a moment to look from your peripheral that Spider-Man was staring at you, like you were the most fascinating thing he's seen.

"What?" You decided to break the silence after a while, setting your book down and taking the lit cigarette out of your mouth, putting it out. "This is usually the part where people start to freak out, y'know? start to get excited that Spider-Man recognizes their existence and whatnot," he responded, and your brows furrowed slightly as you laughed. "You're really not that important to me, bug boy. i'll see you around Spider-Man," you told him, retreating back into the house and he was left speechless.

Miguel took notice that you responded nicer to him while he was dress as Spider-Man, even if it was just by the slightest bit, so he decided to check up on you every time that he was done with patrol. He validated his decision to go over to your house by telling himself that he was purely there to collect information about you, about what type of person you were if you were going to be around Gabriella once more.

The more that you spent time with Miguel and Spider-Man, the less time that you spent on Tinder to seek out approval from random men. You decided to delete the app after coming to the realization that you felt more accomplished with Miguel talking to you like you were something more than just a fetish, and you had started to develop some type of feelings for him. The thought of liking him terrified you since you'd built up some emotional walls to keep people out, but he managed to tear through those pretty easily despite how offputting you could get.

He came to your porch one night while you were lighting up a cigarette, dangling it in between the middle of your teeth as you paced around. "What's up with you, my number one fan?" He asked you cheekily and you were visibly startled at seeing him appear from the night. "Didn't think you were showing up so soon, bug boy. Might start to think that you're actually interested in me," you remarked, trying to deflect from the subject at hand.

"What's wrong?" he inquired, sitting down on the lawn chair as he crossed his arms. "You don't have people to save? No one who's just so obsessed with you that they followed you here?" You remarked, sitting down next to him on the chair as you played with the hem of your silk pajama shorts. He stayed quiet, almost like a form of invitation for you to share what you were going through at the moment.

You started to tell him about what was going on at work, with a big audit that's taking place at Alchemax. You noticed that while you were talking, he looked up at you a couple times just to make you believe he was paying attention but his gaze kept returning towards your exposed thighs. "Are you bothered by them or something?" You decided to cut off your story and take out the cigarette from its place, putting it out before putting it in the ash tray.

"No, no. I'm sorry, I didn't make to feel you that way. It's just.. I've had a long day too and your thighs just look so nice smushed together in that chair," he admitted, his voice cracking a little bit like he wasn't expecting to say that himself. Your brows furrowed but you decided to stay shut, unsure of how to react to his remark. "Can I.. just taste you? We don't have to do anything else but I just really need you to wrap those thighs around my face."

Which is how you ended up inviting Spider-Man into your home, the two of you currently in your bedroom. He slid just the mouth part of the mask up to his nose and even though he asked you not to, you couldn't help but examine his features to see if it was somebody you knew. Your thoughts were diverted as his mouth touched yours, surprised that he was initiating some form of foreplay. You brought your hands to the back of his mask, feeling a bit of soft curls from where the mask had been exposed as you kissed him, more needy than you had expected to be.

He brought one hand down to your sleep shorts, his hand tracing small circles on your inner thigh before gently prodding at your folds. You felt your breath escape your lungs as he pushed a finger in, your growing slickness inviting him with each thrust that he took. His mouth went down to your neck, his lips sucking harsh hickeys into your skin. He knew that it was wrong at some degree, but he couldn't wait to see you as Miguel with his marks on you.

His fangs gently grazed at your skin with every kiss that he took and he was almost tempted to paralyze you, to have you be his feast for as long as he needed to, but he decided to file that away for a later time. He pulled his hand away from your cunt once he was done with the attack on your neck, slotting in between your thighs. He rolled the fat in between his hands, doing the best he could to massage them but even with his bigger than average hands, your thighs were just too big to do so.

Your plush thighs closed his head in the spot that he was in and he figured that if he died right now, he'd be a pretty lucky man. He brought his mouth to your folds, slowly starting to prod inside your hole with his tongue as he looked up at you for your every reaction. He couldn't help but get off on the fact that you hated him so much but yet, you'd complied so easily to have him in between your legs.

"Look at you using your friendly neighborhood bug boy to get off. Y'know, you look so much prettier when you're not being to mean to me," he told you, his tongue forming small circles on your inner thigh. If you hadn't built some form of connection with him, you would've worried that he would be thrown off by the stretch marks coaxing your thighs, but if anything, he just seemed to be more enticed by the mere sight of them. "Shut up and just fuck me," you mumbled, thrusting your pelvis closer to his face as you tried to feel his tongue on your cunt again.

"With pleasure," he responded, his hands squeezing your thighs as his tongue went into your hole, tasting every bit of the juices you were releasing. He had no intention of wasting any drop, not when you tasted like the sweetest nectar he'd ever have. His eyes shut to focus on the task at hand, your hand coming down to the back of his mask as your hips moved closer to his face, starting up a steady rhythm to get yourself off. He stopped and tsked, his hands coming to your thighs as he held them in place.

"Patience, sweetheart. I'll get you off, don't worry," he says before he went back to it, his tongue collecting all the slick from your folds before going back to thrusting in and out of your hole. He felt your hands grip around the back of his mask but he felt some sort of trust in you, that you wouldn't expose him for your benefit. And you didn't, you simply just pulled at the curls on the nape of his neck as he continued his attack on your pussy.

His mouth enclosed around your clit as his hand came down to your pussy, slowly moving a finger inside while you got adjusted to it. He'd done a good job of preparing you beforehand but his fingers were too long and thick for you to just take in one thrust. He started easing his way in until your walls opened to accommodate him, instantly curling to find your g-spot. His tongue flicked around your clit like he was curious to find out what exactly is what made you tick, what would have you dripping in his mouth.

Spider-Man continued with this for a couple minutes, just taking an opportunity to explore what made you writhe against him and what had you moaning out for more. Your fingers were tightly wound as he rolled his tongue around the nub, his pointer finger brushing up against the spongy spot inside of you with every thrust that he took. "Let me taste you, sweetheart. I need you to give it to me," he pleaded, sounding more desperate than you for your orgasm. Your back arched from the bed as you felt the coil inside of you snapping quickly, your orgasm approaching you quickly.

He lapped up all the juices your cunt released around his finger, his mouth coming down to lick at the juices that had leaked out around your folds. He knew he should've been a gentleman and waited until you came down from your orgasm, but he couldn't help the desire he felt towards sucking everything that you would give him.

"Sit on my face," he told you once you came down from your orgasm, laying down on the bed next to you. You knew that he could take on multiple villains at the same time and you could see that he was ripped just by the way his suit clung onto his body, but a part of you couldn't help but feel like you would suffocate the man if you did that. "If you're worried about me, I'll be fine. I just wanna have your thighs squish around my head, mami," he spoke once more, sounding so needy to have you comply with his demand.

You slowly moved up his chest all the way to his face, your thighs enclosing around his face as they held him in place. You gripped onto the headboard for some kind of support as his hands came down to your thighs, helping you in the process. He started off by thrusting his tongue into you, tasting the remnants of your orgasm with every thrust that he took. He brought his nose closer to your clit, the contact of it every time that he moved his head causing a small shudder to run down your back.

He ate you out with such vigor, like he would die if he wasn't able to acquire a taste of you. "Use my face all you want, mami. i'm just here to pleasure you," he spoke up from beneath you, and you slowly started rocking your hips against his body. You kept your rhythm in tandem with the way that his tongue moved, your hands going to your breasts as you kneaded them through your thin shirt. You moved them underneath the shirt, playing with your nipples for extra stimulation as you tugged and pinched them.

His hand started to play with your clit, his fingers working on the nub as he rubbed circles on it. Your pussy clenched around his tongue, coating his mouth with a wave of fresh arousal. He couldn't help but lap it up greedily, working to have you cum on his mouth once more. Your toes curled as you felt that orgasm building up inside of you, your rhythm starting to get sporadic the more that he used his tongue. You came once more, your juices coating his mouth as you got off from him.

He missed the way your thighs wrapped around his head as soon as you got off, but he was consoled by the taste of you overwhelming his senses. He licked his lips and looked over at you, your chest heaving as you tried to get your breathing under control. He knew he should've left at that moment but he couldn't help but hold you in his embrace, his fingertips tracing small circles on your stomach as you started to fall asleep.

Spider-Man continued to make routine visits to your house, though he didn't attempt to have sex with you right away. The day after he ate you out, he came over at around midnight and asked if he could fuck your thighs, that he couldn't stop thinking about them and how inviting they looked. Needless to say, you agreed and soon enough he was on your couch, thrusting into your thighs.

His cock wasn't small by any means, but as he did this, only the tip was visible with every thrust. You slowly grinded your thighs against his cock, emulating what penetrative sex would be like. He came after a couple minutes but he didn't stay the night this time, he simply got dressed and left your house. The next day, he showed up with some minor injuries and asked if he could fuck your tits after you finished patching him up.

He would always be a fan of the way your thighs clenched around his cock, but he couldn't deny that your tits were pretty damn enticing. The way they felt as he was thrusting in and out of them, the way you pushed them together to provide him with the friction that he needed, and the way your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. His cum coated the top of your tits as he came and he could've sworn he could've came again with the way you licked the cum off.

Coincidentally, Miguel had also taken steps to be a better person towards you. He had brought some empanadas as an apology for overreacting when you bumped into him and he started bringing Gabriella to your office when you were on break. You knew that he was doing it more for you than anything else given that Alchemax offered free daycare, and you could admit that you liked to take care of her. She was smart, in a way that wasn't annoying to talk to, but she was capable of having a conversation with you that wasn't about school.

You came home from work after a pretty stressful day of paperwork and filing, wanting to relax and watch something new on tv. Your plans were quickly derailed when you heard a thump in your porch, the sight of Spider-Man on the floor making your heart drop. You'd had some suspicions that he'd been Miguel seeing him hurt made all the blood drain from your face. You walked over to the porch, opening the door to let him stumble inside.

He settled on your couch, holding his stomach in pain as a gash bled through the cracks of his fingers. You got up and went to the bathroom, getting a towel to wrap around the gash so the bleeding would subside. "No smart remarks about how I'm paying for your couch after this?" He joked, his voice coming out cracked from the pain he was in. You scoffed as you wrapped the towel around him to the best of your ability, tightening it up.

"You get hurt and the first thing you want to say to me is some stupid remark about my couch, Miguel?" You scold him, your eyes widening as you gave away the realization of your knowledge. He slid off the mask, his hair messy with some pieces of flesh tangled into the strands as he looked at you apologetically. "I didn't know you cared about me so much to worry this much, corazón. I would be flattered if i wasn't bleeding out," he told you, flashing a grin but it didn't carry the intended effect.

You gave him a towel so he could wash off his hair and the grime coating his body after he finished healing. You were sitting on your bed as you scrolled through your phone, reading through some stupid news article about today's events. You looked up to see Miguel coming into your room with the towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet and curled at the ends. You could admit that the sight looked inviting, especially with the way that his happy trail poked out from the towel but you didn't want to initiate anything just in case he was still in pain.

Miguel came over to the bed, bunching your night dress in his hands as he looked down at you. "Let me thank you for everything you did for me, mami. I've been thinking about your cunt clenching around me for so long," he suggested and you raised a brow as you looked at him. "You sure you want to do that after an injury?" You asked and he reassured you that he was fine, though he appreciated the concern.

Miguel took off your dress quickly after he got your consent, throwing it to the floor and bent down to kiss your neck and chest. He started to kiss every place that he had access to, treating your body like a masterpiece more than anything else. "You're so pretty, como una obra de arte," he whispered into your skin, nipping at the juncture on your neck. (like a work of art) You'd never felt so turned on with your previous partners and the man hadn't done anything but kiss you.

Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he kissed your lips, tasting your mint toothpaste as his tongue went in your mouth. His fingers were working on your cunt as he opened your cunt to fit around his cock, knowing that it would take some adjustment to get it to fit. He whispered how beautiful you were and how good you tasted in between kisses, each compliment sounding more needy than the last.

He aligned his cock with your cunt, slowly pushing it in as you engulfed his length. You felt a sting forming in between your legs as he bottomed out, the girth of his cock stretching you to your limits. He rubbed small circles on your stomach, his mouth coming down to attach on your breasts. "Don't listen to anybody who says anything about you, you're beautiful. Not just to me," he told you, looking into your eyes as he pulled his cock out. You were about to whine at the loss of contact but he quickly thrust it back in, getting into a steady rhythm.

"Gabriella’s been telling me how nice you are, how she wishes you were her mommy. How badly she wants a sibling," he moaned out in between thrusts, his head hanging low as he looked down at you. "Then make me a mommy, Miguel," you responded, your breasts moving with every thrust that he took. "I'll make you the prettiest mommy Nueva York's ever seen. Toda llena de leche y solo para mí," he responded, his thrusts growing more intense with every passing moment. (all full of milk and just for me)

He brought his mouth to your neck, kissing the skin as he left small marks for every one. "Tan rica que sabes y es tan injusto. You should be my dumb little wife, just available for me any time I want," he told you and you could feel that he was being serious, rather just saying this out of the intensity of the moment. (you taste so good and it’s so unfair) The realization made you want to kiss him, feel even more intimacy despite how close you were to him. It felt like you couldn't get enough of him, of his cock, of everything that he would give you, despite the fact that he was giving you what he could at the moment.

He rubbed your clit with his middle finger, working in tandem with every thrust that he took. Your legs began to shake with the intensity that he was thrusting inside of you, your toes curling and back arching as you felt that coil building up inside of you. Your orgasm washed over you with intensity you'd never faced before, your vision spotting as you tried to come down from the euphoria. Your walls tightened around his cock and you took the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist to convey that you were being serious about him breeding you.

He looked down at you before burying his head on your shoulder, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he approached his orgasm. Your cunt clenched around his cock tightly, milking him for every drop of cum that he could offer. He pushed the cum deep inside as he took notice of it start to leak, making sure that it would take. He slid out of you with ease, rolling on his back next to you. Just the picture of your stomach round with his child and your tits full of milk made his cock grow hard once more.

"Let me just make sure that it takes properly, mami," he told you, moving on top of you as he got started to go once more. Needless to say, after each round he convinced you to keep going with him under the pretense that he just wanted to make sure that he'd pumped enough so it'd take.

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

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can you do leo valdez x hades fem reader pleasee

⋆⭒˚.⋆ leo valdez x daughter of hades! reader hcs

content: leo valdez x daughter of hades! reader hcs warning: none! (lies tiny angst at the end my bad) authors note: yall need to ban me from listen to sad music while i write bc i ruin whole ass hcs by making em sad at the end BLAME PHOEBE BRIDGERS AND MITSKI THIS IS NOT MY FAULT YALL I WILL NOT TAKE THE BLAME did i put the music on?? yes. did i also know this would happen?? yes. BUT IM JUST A GIRL IN THE WORLD STFU-

leo would tell anyone who listened that you guys were fated to fall in love

you always roll your eyes but let him list off all his reasons why he believes this

firstly, you guys met purely by chance

you'd been walking around in the woods, having sensed some interesting bones there earlier and wanting to dig them up and hear their story

leo been running from the stoll's after a wonderful prank, which sent him hurling through the bones you'd just managed to reconstruct from the ground

"hey! i just got mr. cain here back together and then you come running through him like you own the place," you huffed before continuing to lay into leo, who looked up at you with borderline heart eyes

you were yelling at him and he was falling in love

you forced him to help you collected his phalanges and pelvis and leo did so without needing to be told twice, wanting to spend more time with death's daughter

from that moment forwards, you had two shadows, one which spewed constant pick up lines and jokes

nico was not happy, purposefully making sure to uproot bones in places that leo walked often, leading the boy to trip a lot

sadly, this backfired on nico, as you were always there to catch leo and rebury the bones

nico also tried knocking some sense into you by forcing you to admit to your father that you had a crush on some boy

but, once more, this only solidified your feelings as persephone had been in the underworld and squealed with joy at the reveal before dragging you off to a girl's night

it was a night filled with cosmo magazines and face masks and flirting techniques and the trading of lip glosses

nico gave up after that, in fear that he'd just push you two closer together

leo always bragged that it was fates work getting you together, but you always believe it to be nico's attempts to keep you apart

anyways, following you girl's night with persephone, you figured you had enough tools to get the guy

but before you even had the chance to apply your new lip gloss, leo dragged you to where you first met and was asking to be your boyfriend

you agreed but whined about not being able to ask first

and, as an olive branch for nico, leo made him some silver skull themed jewelry, which nico took with a glare and nod

that was the closest leo got to acceptance from the boy but he took it

you gift leo little trinkets that the dead gift to you, thing you think he'd like

a pocket watch from a 1950s boat conductor, a ring from a danish seamstress, a cog from the titanic that one of the passengers stole with his dying breaths

he proudly displayed it all on a shelf above his work bench, sometimes leaning back in his chair and staring up at it to get inspiration

and one night, while you were sitting on the couch in bunker nine, while leo worked and you cuddled into one of his sweaters, you reached over and traced your fingers over the photo of him and his mom

"...she's in elysium," you whispered, fingers ghosting over the photo and eyes locked onto her own

leo turned in his chair, face scrunched up as he wasn't entirely sure he heard you. and he wanted to make sure he heard you correctly.

"what?"

"your mom. she made it. she...she's waiting for you, leo. she's so, so proud, gods you can feel it, come here," you replied, heaving breaths as you felt it course through you, jumping you and rushing to him, shoving your hands against any part of his skin you could reach

he could feel it, your typically cold skin was burning up, warm and thudding and leo could swear he could smell his mother's natural smell of grease and her tamales that she always made for his birthday

"you're the best thing she ever made. she has no regrets, not a single one. the love she has for you is...it's so strong, leo. even my father can't kill something like that," you whispered, sliding your hands against his skin as to keep the contact, to allow him to grasp onto the feeling for longer

leo's hands grabbed your wrists, guiding your hands over his shoulder to his back before he tugged you into his chest, pulling you into a suffocatingly tight hug

you splayed your hands wide over his back, spreading the feeling to anywhere you could reach as he cried into the crook of your neck

he was muttering in spanish, pieces you've picked up here and there, translating into words like 'grateful' and 'love' and 'miss you' and 'mom'

and while you were growing exhausted from effort to use your powers, you refused to quit, knowing he needed and deserved this

soon after, leo pulled your hands from him, worry covering his tear streaked face

"oh, my sweet girl," he whispered as you slumped against him

without a second thought, he picked you up and laid you down on the couch, knowing you needed rest after that

he could tell you were already asleep from the soft fluttery breaths that left your mouth

he kept one of your hands held between both of his, no longer feeling his mother's love but something different

something similar though, the strength behind it nearly as strong

"thank you," he whispered against your skin before pressing a kiss to your temple

and then he said a silent thanks to whoever sent him you, whoever sent him barreling through your bones that fated day, whoever made nico want to break them apart, whoever had persephone home when you revealed your crush on the boy

he'd thank whoever would listen for the daughter of death, for he would never stop being grateful for her.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 3 months

Text

❝ Comin’ back for more? ❞

warnings: yandere!leon and yandere!reader, piquerism, carving his name into r! skin, blood kink, overstimulation, leon takes pictures and videos of r!, dumbification, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick), use of boypussy & boy cunt.

“Actually,” Leon sighs, “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen him.”

Her shock is evident but to Leon’s surprise, it turns into exasperation.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, Kennedy?” Ashley puts her hands on her hips and then points a finger at his way.

“He likes you. (Y/N) (L/N). He likes you, Leon Kennedy. So,” she comes around to him and despite the height difference, Leon feels slightly intimidated by her frown.

“Just fuck his brains out and tell him you’re not gonna let him go! That’s the only way you’re getting through to him, okay? God, I swear the both of you are so dimwitted!”

authors' note: heed the warnings, leon and y/n are high-key deranged, lmao. also i wrote this in a rush but enjoy!!

“Do you think he’s like…big?”

That alone was enough to make you rip your eyes away from your laptop. She chews on her glossy lip, twisting her phone to show you a Tinder profile of some douchebag that checks off everything on her list.

Awkwardly angled photos to show his jawline? Check.

Dimples? Check.

Two pairs of horrendous matching sweats? Check

A random photo of him holding some poor relative's baby to appeal to women? Check.

“Surprised he didn’t leap out from your brain,” your dry tone makes Ashley pout. “Honestly, be a little proud of me, (Y/N). He’s not holding a fish,” she turns the phone to herself. Pursing your lips, you return your attention to the report that’s been rotting in your laptop.

“Yeah, his sister is probably relieved her baby’s face is plastered on a hook-up app.” Ashley reaches over and smacks your hand. The yelp you let out turns a few heads; dark eyebags and caffeine-fueled veins already making them irritable. Exclamations of pain weren’t appreciated.

“You’re such a pessimist, (Y/N). I swear I have no idea how we ended up being friends.” An attempt was made at stifling your laughter but it tumbles out from between your fingers in quick intakes of breaths. The glaring turns into mumbling but none would speak up. Between Ashley’s status and your own, along with your golden reputation, no one could find themselves wishing ill upon the both of you.

Ashley was from a wealthy family. All you'd need to do is look at her to see she was dripped in luxury brands that were so exclusive you probably never heard of them. She met you through one of her mother's annual parties. It was an attempt on her end to play matchmaker with Ashley so she was quick to push Ashley and your sibling together.

Unfortunately for her, both you and your sibling were queer. Ashley was just glad to have real friends. How did the saying go? You win some, you lose some?

"You have your mother to thank for that. Remember how she was convinced you were a lesbian because we kept hanging out? Before I came out and everything." Ashley rolled her eyes, leaning on her elbow as she scrolled through the array of people with mild interest.

“Woah, what was that for?” Her lack of reply makes your brows raise. Closing your laptop, you reach a hand out to swipe her phone away. She gasps, attempting to swipe it back but you lean back on the chair, balancing precariously on its two legs. “Give it back, you ass,” she hisses, still trying to keep her voice low as she raises from her seat. Exiting from Tinder, your thumbs work deftly to open her messages and scoff as you go through her archived chats to see her mother’s messages were there. “You put your mom in archive jail? Woah, she must have really pissed you off,” she grunts as she tugs her phone back into her hands. You let her, folding your arms behind your head as she taps out from your intrusion. “What’s up? Did she bug you about university again? I swear she’s as anal about making those planners as you are.” “As opposed to how you live through life relying simply on your phone’s battery? Not to mention, you keep overcharging the hell out of your phone too. You should really change it — “ Ashley tucks her hand to her chest as you stand up, your chair banging as you ground it before you do so. At this point, a few people have plugged in their earphones anyway. “You’re stalling, Ms Graham.”

Ashley does this thing with her mouth. Sucking in her cheeks and chewing the insides as she contemplates spilling the metaphorical can of beans. It seems she relents as she settles next to you. There’s a sense of gratitude in her eyes as your knees are now facing her as you sit.

“These recent killings, it’s got her on edge,” she said. “She’s even been telling me I should have an escort everywhere I go. I don’t know, I just want to be normal. It’s hard enough that people treat me more like a concept or a walking ATM — an escort would just further that divide.”

A glance over her shoulder makes her words more concrete. Their eyes were clear in their intentions; flashes of green embedded in the very whites of their gelatinous orbs. Whether it was envy or greed was hard to decipher but it was clear Ashley wasn’t a person to them. She was a myth brought to life.

“You told her that?” she pushes her lips forward into a pout and you cock a brow. “Like she’d let that be an excuse. I understand her concerns but I’m not a damsel in distress. The Ghostface killings aren’t even aimed at this university, they’re completely random.”

“But you gotta admit, the close proximity would set anyone on edge. Your mother just happened to be someone who was born right on it,” you reach over to poke her cheek and she swats your hand away with a huff. “Can’t you ask her to hire secret agents instead? At least that way, nobody will see them.”

Ashley groans out that you’re the opposite of being helpful. Her phone buzzes in her hand and whatever she reads is clearly exciting enough for her to completely drop the conversation because she reaches forward and smacks your knees so hard it jerks up involuntarily.

“(Y/N), look!”

You’re half-expecting a new Tinder profile but instead, it’s a shittily made poster for a Frat Party. The curling of your lips has Ashley whining and she inches closer — her knees now between yours — as she wags the phone a bit.

“Dude, c’mon! We gotta go, everyone will be there!”

And if everyone was there, Ashley would have to be there too.

“Yeah, what better way to piss off your mother than to go to an overcrowded and overrated Frat Party,” you reply dryly. High schoolers made better posters. This one with the Comic Sans font, blurry PNGs of the hang-tight emoji, and Rick Sanchez lowered your confidence in the Earth's crust. Ashley scoffs.

“Shut up. Besides, the only reason you don’t want to go is because Mr Waitlist will be there,” she dodges your attempt to smack her arm. “Seriously, I have no idea why you choose to be in denial about your feelings for him. The chemistry between you two is insane. It’s almost sickening.”

“Almost? Guess we should try harder,” you mutter as you turn to face your laptop again. Ashley does not relent. “You should. I agree. It’s obvious you two like each other. I’ve already made a wedding plan for you.”

“Ashley,” you groan out. “Nothing is happening. We’re just...close friends.” "Again. Stage 1, denial," your eye-roll makes her inch closer and closer. "Not that anyone would blame you. He looks like some European model even with those weird side-part bangs." "Ashley." The finality in your tone makes her giggle. "(Y/N). You're attracted to him. The second you see him I swear your pupils just blow up bigger than when you're on molly. What's stopping you from just being exclusive-style?" Knowing she won't stop her sudden fixation on the topic, your shoulders droop just as you slip down your chair. Sinking deeper into your oversized hoodie, you sigh and attempt to entertain her as your fingers hover over your keyboard.

"We tried, but it didn't work, Ashley."

"Barely, tried. You had one foot out of the door before the relationship even started. I still remember you trying to keep it a secret, that's not trying that's giving up with extra steps!"

The violent shushing of a particularly peeved student causes Ashley to flinch. Pink dusts across her milky skin and she bows her head apologetically, her teethy grin gone in an instant. He seems satisfied with her expression. That quickly fades when he sees the stare you give him; his brows furrow and he frowns with a slow curl of his nose. Like a kitten hissing.

You recognize him from some of the classes you took. He was the kind of guy who'd continue to badger the professor with questions, acting so smug as he did so and never catching how exasperated they'd be. Obscenely polite because his parents were big spenders in the university's bank account. His greasy fingerprints on the steel frame of his glasses and pathetic excuse of a beard piss you off enough to curl your lips into a wicked grin.

"Sorry, were we too loud?"

The apricot sweater he wears reeks of cologne, the kind that pierces your nose and makes your eyes water from how strong it is. As he lifts his arms to cross it, Ashley straightens her back to put more distance between him.

"The two of you have been loud the second you got here." There's more he wants to say, the twitching of his lips and the tightening of his fingers prove that much. But you're staring up at him like you know something he doesn't — an omen is within your eyes and the chill it gives him shuts him up enough to leave with a comical stomp and huff.

Ashley cringes, glancing around to see if anyone felt the same as he did but is distracted by your question. "Everyone is invited to that party?" Excitement flashes in her eyes as she sees the same in yours.

"Fine. I'll go too."

The music is so loud you're convinced it's rattling your bones. People are spilling out from the threshold of doors, and windows, on the stairs and the porch, and possibly on the sloped roofs of the house. The lights are everchanging. Streams of neon blue, green, and red are flashing through the fog that's flowing down from the corners of the room. The scents. The sounds. The feeling of bodies bumping into you no matter where you walk. It was a goddamn watering hole.

You had come here with Ashley, but she split off with some of her girlfriends. Last time you checked, she'd been invested in some girl's sob story as they crowded around her with red cups in their hands and slurred words. Ashley had given you a grimace but gestured for you to just enjoy herself.

You'd try to but there'd be no point in doing so considering how vapid everyone was.

So you nurse your drink in the corner, back facing the stairs, and smile as people walk by or above you. The music isn't all that bad, typical party music with some early 2000s songs that earns a good 'oh fuck, this is my song!' from the crowd.

Scanning the front door, watching every face that comes in, your hunger becomes more and more endless. Like a predator digging its claws into the bark of trees, you're restless in that little shroud of camouflage; shifting your weight from one side to the other, sighs escaping liquor-flavoured lips; grin getting more and more grim.

The touch on your nape has your head tilting away from him. Those calloused fingerpads — which not many people in this slice of "heaven" had — press into the solid bone on your nape; it elicits a barely there moan and your features soften immediately.

The cup he's holding is perspiring in his hands and you've spent enough time under his hands to know it had every right to be red and sweating. Deft fingers pinch the rim of your cup and you give him no resistance as he pulls it away to trade his drink.

"Thought you said you didn't wanna be here, Trustfund," Leon said as he leaned on the wooden panels of the walls. The shoulder bump he did is deliberate, a soothing croon to ask you to stop staring people down the second they enter the house.

"What gave you that impression, Waitlist?"Leon grunts, downing what little is left in your cup down his throat. Risking a glance away from the entrance, your eyes chase after the trail of wetness that slithers down his chin. God, he was gorgeous. A face so pretty it's no wonder he pisses off other men around him. His odd, dry, humour doesn't exactly help either.

"The lack of replies to my messages, maybe, geez, who knows."

"Oh, poor Leon," your pout earns a frown from him. "Couldn't get your dick wet when I was going through exams? Oh, poor widdle baby," he leans away from your fingers as they invade his face to pinch to what little adolescent fat still stuck to his cheeks.

"Oh, suck a dick, (Y/N)." Your smirk as you bring your lips to the rim of his cup. "Down, boy. We're in public, don't start begging just yet."

Unamused — or attempting to look unamused — Leon simply follows your focused gaze and tilts his head.

"I'll ask then. What's up with the staring problem? You attracted to doors now or what?"

The drink goes down with an awfully wheaty aftertaste and you smack your lips together in bemusement. "Fuck - what beer is this?" "Don't be an ass, they're doing a beer run, alright? I grabbed what I could. Are you gonna answer my question or not?" You swallow with a grimace. "D'you know that kid in Mr Pinto's class? The one with glasses and that god-awful voice? That know-it-all?" Leon nods. "Yeah, kinda looks like the typical nerdy douchebag, right?"

You lean in and Leon lets you. The both of you pretend not to feel the way his breath shudders as your wet lips brush the side of his cheeks.

"I wanna kill that rude little freak. Cut him open and smear his brains all over the fuckin' sidewalk." Leon's eyes widen. As you peer at him through your lashes, his grey-metal eyes all but melt to reveal that bloodthirsty animal stalking between reason and lace-thin morality. He gulps thickly, casting a side-glance briefly to the entrance before he darts them back to you.

"Why?" He strains out after clearing his throat.

Oh, this is why you adored Leon Scott Kennedy.

It was the way he tried so hard to deny how twisted he actually was. That abashed flutter of his lashes, the skim of teeth over his rabbit-tongue-colored lips; everything contrasting to how violently he used his strength to thrust a knife into someone's rib; how easily he swiped and cleaned a hunting blade using his gloves.

The low, guttural, grunts he makes as he thrusts into you during that high. How he's so careful with his strength outside of the bedroom but during the heat of it? He's so shameless that he leaves hand-shaped bruises all over your hips and arms and even leaves indents of his teeth into your flesh. If he was really impatient, he'd fuck you all while wearing the Ghostface mask, holding that still-bloody knife to your throat as he fucked you so hard you walked funny for a day or two.

Despite how much he enjoys it though, he still asks ' why? '

Why him? Did he do something bad to you? Why not him?

Why? Why? Why?

It didn't exactly matter why. Leon never says no to you.

"He was a bitch to Ashley."

Someone bumps into him, and he braces his hand on the base rail of the stairs. Drunken laughter muffles the minute silence as he peers down at you. His broad shoulders look bigger this time. You faintly recalled Ashley slyly mentioning how he seems to work out more often now ("always jogging past near your accommodations, you must've seen him once in a while. Has he ever come over for a quick post-workout boost?" "Gross, Ashley...A few times, yeah -").

"That won't do." He said with furrowed brows. "No, it won't." Circling your arms around his waist, you pull him in with a Cheshire smile.

"Ashley's like family to me. Besides, her mom's been worried about all these — " you giggle, trying to push down the urge to by chewing on your lower lip but failing. "What?" he asks, the tip of his nose on yours as he savours the sound. "C'mon, what'd she say, babe?"

"She's worried about these Ghostface killings," you playfully hiss out. He isn't sure if it's the party, the drinks, the bloodlust, or just you but he starts laughing along with you.

"So we gotta make sure he isn't dangerous for her sake, hm?" He noses under your jaw and the way you turn your face away makes his mouth water. That neck is far too untainted for his own liking; how long has it been since you've fucked? Since he's driven a knife into someone's skull?

Ever since that awkward break-up in your car, after that honest-to-god perfect night of killing that annoying and creepy line cook and fucking under the stars in the woods. That was the last time the two of you fucked and that was months ago. It caught him off-guard. That haze of pleasure being fanned away by the typhoon that was your sudden request to just break up.

The handjob on the wooden floors of your dorm followed by a blowjob was more recent but Leon just wanted to sink into that tight hole again and again for hours for him to be fully satisfied. The only reason he even stopped was because your alarm rang for an early class, one that you apparently couldn't afford to skip. All lies. He knows the alarm was just the weekday alarm that always went off at 9 am — he knows it's because of the beat of silence that followed after you came around his fingers.

The gentle panting from both of you, the sweet kisses he was leaving on your thighs and then your face.

You only pulled away when it got too real.

It just makes him more determined to show you how deep his devotion for you was. Whatever the reason behind your fear of commitment was, there isn't a line Leon wouldn't cross to show you how willing he is to be yours.

"Exactly," you whisper. How he hears it despite the music and people should surprise him but it doesn't. His body is hyperaware of your very presence. The minute changes in your expressions, the octave changes or lilts in your voice, the wordless way you communicate with him from across the room; Leon just knows you.

"A little birdie told me that he actually has a crush on you, Mr Kennedy." Leon doesn't pause in his actions. His tongue laps at the rising pace of your pulse, teeth brushing over skin and you try very hard to continue your speech despite the hand that cups your crotch.

"Somethin' 'bout you helping him pick up his books when the fucker tripped over his own fuckin' feet." You gasped as he started mottling your skin, capillaries just imploding under his ministrations. "Fuck, Leon." The cup is crinkling under your tightening hold and Leon simply cages you in between his toned arms. It's hard to focus on anything past them as you eye the prominent veins that disappear under the sleeves of his black shirt.

"Leon, calm the fuck down." He bites your neck in retaliation and you're glad some popular song plays over the speakers because the cheers that follow mask your moan.

What a ridiculous statement. Here you are, in his hands; perfect and handsome and sexy and yet — not his. It’s all a bit fucked up for him. Growing up alone, life offered no reprieve for little Leon Kennedy. His parents dying while he was young, then going to an orphanage — it all cemented into him that he was fine being independent. A partner sounded nice but he didn’t give it much thought.

Until you came.

Stubborn, silver-tongued, rich, handsome, so fucking handsome.

Not at all his type.

Waitlist, he hated that nickname. So he crashed a little late and unprepared for his first class. Sue him. Not his fault the school plucked out his name late too. Among the giggles of the classroom, yours stood out. It made sense since you were closest to him. Ashley was smacking your arm, sharing glances his way and you turned and mouthed a ‘sorry’ that Leon knew you didn’t even mean.

But then he kept seeing you around. Bumping into him during parties, always sitting near him in classes, accidentally hitting him in the face with a ball while you were chilling on the grass.

Fate was too perfect for him.

Leon was snarky and stubborn and he had nothing to give you that you already didn’t have.

But then, the night he saw you covered in blood. Everything seemed to shift. Because suddenly you weren’t this unreachable, little asshat with a wicked tongue and Leon was no longer a mutt with nothing to offer.

Suddenly, he saw that you were just as twisted and hungry as he was. A lone wolf with its teeth stained and its ribs showing under all that extravagant fur and Leon couldn’t resist himself chasing you after that.

The man who was bleeding out next to you had been desperate to try to sleep with you. The bruising around your neck and the dishevelled state of your clothes pieced the puzzle together. Leon used that to justify killing him.

For you. Just for you.

He was finally using the sharp teeth he had. Those blunt claws he’d been desperately trying to file down dug themselves into the dirt and he ran with you all the way down to Hell. Kicking the earth behind him, his breath visible as his teeth bare into a wolfish grin and you were right there.

Two lone wolves finding each other in a world full of rabbits and squirrels and deers.

Because that's what the both of you were. Not spiders with silk-weaved webs or snakes with venomous fangs. You were a wolf stalking its prey with your tongue lolled out and eyes so wide they shine like the moon.

Unapologetic killer.

If only you’d get the fact that you’re not a solitary animal into your thick skull.

Leon grunts when you pinch his sides, forcing himself to pull away with a disgruntled glare that you return.

“Did you hear what I said about the plan?” He tilts his head. “Was I supposed to?”

You click your teeth, placing your hands firmly on his chest to push him away. Leon resists but he lets you go after a split second.

“Christ, Waitlist.”

Leon reaches his hand out but you take a turn into the living area and suddenly he’s bumping into bodies. They’re bouncing and shaking and he feels like a sailor in rough waters.

“(Y/N)!” his voice doesn’t reach past his own nose. The music is so loud he doubts you’re even deliberately ignoring him. “God fucking dammit!” Leon ignores the hand that clumsily tried to seduce him and the glossy lips that follow it, just shouldering through the sea of people.

The kitchen hails no signs of you. He’s glad to see the beer run was successful enough and grabs a bottle of your favourite to soothe whatever it is he did.

“Leon! You’re here!” Ashley pops up from across the island and Leon smiles at her way. “Hey, Ashley. What’s up?” she eyes him skeptically and places her hands on the island. She quickly regrets this because of how suspiciously sticky it is but doesn’t miss a beat as she asks him; “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen (Y/N) but I guess those beers are for him.”

Ashley wraps her hand around a can and uses the condensation to somehow alleviate the stickiness. She would use the sink but with the state of a poor boy vomitting inside it and the amount of couples fucking in the bathrooms, this was the best she could do.

“Actually,” Leon sighs, “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen him.”

Her shock is evident but to Leon’s surprise, it turns into exasperation.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, Kennedy?” Ashley puts her hands on her hips and then points a finger at his way.

“He likes you. (Y/N) (L/N). He likes you, Leon Kennedy. So,” she comes around to him and despite the height difference, Leon feels slightly intimidated by her frown.

“Just fuck his brains out and tell him you’re not gonna let him go! That’s the only way you’re getting through to him, okay? God, I swear the both of you are so dimwitted!”

Ashley walks away and Leon stands there for a second to process what he’d just been told. The beginnings of a smile threaten to crawl onto his face so Leon purses his lips and just walks on towards the hallways to see if you’ve snuck into any of the rooms there.

He instead finds another person. Quite literally, they were shoved straight into his chest (thank god the beer was in a bottle). It takes a minute for Leon to notice him, really notice him, but after their half-assed apologies are shares Leon sees who it is.

From over his shoulder, he spots your half-hidden face just as you slink out of view.

“Hey, you’re...Michael, right?” the brunette perks up considerably and nods. “You’re in Mr Pinto’s class?”

Michael jumps into the conversation. “I am!” he exclaims though considering the state of the party, it is not out of place. Leon smiles charmingly and leans on the wall, offering Michael one of the bottles he’s holding.

His hands practically tremble to take it.

“You’re pretty smart, huh?” Michael scoffs at his words, his cheeks flushed despite not one sip taken. “I guess you can say that, I mean, 4.0 GPA but yeah. I guess I am pretty smart.”

This was going to be a long night, Leon thinks as he takes a swig.

Dancing with Michael proved to be easier than talking to him. He’s much more pleasant when you can’t hear him bragging about being the smartest guy in the room or how his sister is as dumb as bricks (”It’s no wonder she resorted to bulimia as a last resort to get hitched” “Oh, wow.”).

Leon thought rich kids were already unbearable but the smart rich kids were worse. The only thing that kept him sane was the fact that he’d see glimpses of you. A sliver of (H/C) coloured through the flashes of light. At times, he swears he even hears your laughter through the crowd and music.

Michael grabs at his arms and pretends to be coy as he squeezes and asks how much Leon works out. “I see you runnin’ sometimes!” And Leon suppresses the urge to cringe at how close his face is.

Did this make him an asshole? All this pretending to be nice, if God was real, was he shaking his head at Leon?

‘ If God was real he’d open the gates of hell to swallow you up the second you were born, ‘ he thought derisively.

But then, the Devil answers his question in the form of you. He sees you dancing, hands up in the air with your teeth bared in a giant grin. Leon's entranced; your arms slither down to your neck and Leon's not sure how he sees it with the flashing lights but he can see the hickeys he left on you. Michael is speaking, his ears relay to him. But he can’t pull his eyes from you. Leon doesn’t understand how you do it.

When you’re in the room it’s as if you’re the sun; the very center of his universe and he wants to implode into you. Be devoured and destroyed within your maw. A hand on his face and Leon is now staring at Michael. God, he’s staring at Michael.

Before he can speak, Leon asks; “Do you wanna go somewhere more quiet?”

They’re in the back of the house now. Music is more muffled despite the way the walls reverberate. The wood panelling must be screaming from the LED strip lights pasted on it. All the lamps had a red cloth over them, the room would look terrifying if it weren’t for the clouds of smoke and slurred giggling from the bodies on the bean bags.

Michael’s palms get clammy and Leon pretends he doesn’t feel it. Deeper in the room, at the back, where the cove of a past reading nook was built. The heavy velvet curtains stink of weed and cigarettes. He doubts the stains at the end are anything but alcohol or vomit. Aptly named make-out nook, the windows are covered by old sports magazines so no one from the outside can gawk.

Leon pressed Michael to the window panes and he gasps, hands coming to rest on Leon’s waist. He does that annoying squeezing thing that makes Leon’s skin crawl. His lips are on him and Leon narrows his eyes, staring at the smiling bodybuilder with his bulging muscles and tanned skin. Superman underwear and all. Leon wonders what he’d think of the sight before him; if any of these frozen-in-time athletes coo and gasp at the scandalous activities this nook has seen.

The curtains rustle as Michael chews on Leon’s lower lip. He’s biting down harder than he should — Leon jerks back, hissing softly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry — Are you okay?” Michael pauses as the curtains part and your giggles flood through, tendrils of smoke slipping through your teeth. An act. You’re closing in for the kill, and Michael has nowhere to run.

Still, he looks oh-so-smug as he tightens his grip on Leon.

“Leon?” you gasped while Michael sneered at you as he took a handful of Leon’s crotch. Both pretend not to feel how soft he is. He squeezed and purred. Leon’s eyes remained on you, brows raised in a challenge. “He’s busy with me, (L/N). So move along,” Leon slid his toned arms around his waist. The sight was like a match being struck, and your eyes burned with fury.

‘ Now? ‘ his eyes ask. You nod, reaching for the pocket knife you tucked away in your (Leon’s) leather jacket.

‘ Now. ‘

Leon wanted to kiss you so badly that he felt his fingers shake as he reached for his own hidden knife.

“Dude, not cool. You can’t make out with me like 10 minutes ago then just make out with someone else!” You exclaim, clambering into the nook and letting the curtains naturally slip close. “Leon — c’mon,” you beg so sweetly when you’re pretending. Michael sighs, getting his filthy hands off Leon, and faces you.

One finger jabs at your chest and you tilt your head at it.

“Fuck off, alright? Not everyone is dying to fuck your used hole —“

He inhales sharply, lashes fluttering as metal sheathes itself into his flesh. Leon pulls out his knife and then plunges it inside his back.

Again and again and again and again and again.

Michael braces his arms on your shoulders, and your breath shudders. He looks up at you in panic. He doesn't pay attention to the knife you’re holding too, he inhales and the way his mouth opens tells you he’ll try to scream.

The blade sinks through his neck, and when he tries to swallow the blood that floods his airway you can feel his muscles and Adam’s apple squish and move it. So you twist and dig in deeper. Leon’s blade pulls out again, blood is quickly spreading beneath Michael’s legs but the room is already cast in red — as if anyone would see.

“You enjoyed the little shit, Kennedy?” Michael claws at your jacket as you tilt the knife up, slicing through more of him until he starts spasming. His choking and gasping makes you groan in relief, breathing in his death with a smile.

"He was". You don't dare pull out the knife. Not now. A little puddle of blood is fine but more than people will really notice. The thrill of it all is too much for Leon; the crowd of people being hidden only by curtains, a warm body sputtering and choking on you as you held the knife; your eyes staring up at him with nothing but adoration in them.

Try to deny him as much as you want, (Y/N). You can't hide from Leon's hunger.

Ashley's voice echoes through his head.

"Kept groping you like some sort of pervert, what a fucking loser. Heard he got caught stalking the swim team captain. Pathetic, right? Think we can drag this pile of shit to the pool?"

Why are you talking about this waste of space?

Leon grabs him and with no more than a grunt, tosses Michael's body to the window pane where he thuds and slides down onto the floor. Splatters of blood spray onto the magazine covers, forever staining them just like the vomit stains on the curtains, and Leon pushes you against the window.

You replace the knife you held with Leon's jaw, smiling into the kiss as he sticks his tongue into your mouth. Fuck, he tastes good. Like your favorite beer. He's relentless as his hands grab the mounds of your ass.

From the outside, people snicker at the thumps they can hear.

"Fuuuck, Leon — Mfph, you're so fuckin' hasty," you groan. "Sorry for rushing when — fuck — when there's a dead body next to you."

You laugh and when Leon dives in again to suck the soul of your body he tastes the heavy smoke of marijuana lingering in your mouth. Michael is grunting, attempting to pull out the knife in his neck and you're especially cruel as you dig the heel of your shoes into his crotch. When he groans spurts of blood come out of him like a deflated waterbed.

"You're acting like this is something new," you retort. Leon just focuses on your neck again. Sucking over his marks and the slight pain that follows causes you to moan, gripping onto a fistful of his hair as your legs part.

What did Ashley say exactly? Fuck your brains out and tell you he's never letting you go?

He kneels abruptly, you're still catching your breath when he licks up your stomach, his bloodied knife now in his hand. You help him by lifting up your top, watching him lap at your happy trail with a dark blush across your face.

"Gonna suck my dick? You miss it that much?" Leon does not reply. Instead, he unbuttons your pants and you're chewing on your lip in excitement, gulping thickly as he pulls it down under the swell of your ass.

There's a wet patch on your underwear and Leon moans, pulling your pants down even further until it pools at your ankles. His knife is cold on your outer thigh, you hiss softly as the edges press and nick you but his tongue lapping at your dick through the cloth derails any complaints.

"Shiiit, Leon — " he slips the knife under your underwear, the serrated edges licking at your hips before a riiiiiiip! is heard. Ashley would be pissed knowing one of the designer underwear she gave you as a gift was purposefully torn apart but perhaps she'll be forgiving knowing it was to fulfill horny, filthy, purposes.

He must be really fucking excited. Leon's tongue is making a wet spot appear on your underwear and as if flimsily slips away from your hips, you swear you can feel the growl he releases as he sucks your exposed dick.

It twitches on his tongue, flushed from his attention as his tongue laps underneath it and his lips wrap around it.

"You miss me, baby?" You let out a sound of confusion at the question. "Yeah, you fuckin' do. You're so fucking hard."

Was he...was he talking to your cock?

"Bet you're dripping for me too, hm?" "Leon, what the fuck are you — "

The knife is now between your thighs, Michael's blood smearing itself there as he presses a kiss to your cock.

"If you're gonna cut me, wipe that pig's blood off." Your sneer is the last thing Michael sees as his eyes finally cloud over. In all honesty, you'd forgotten about him until now. The thought of his blood on you just disgusted you.

Leon wipes off his blood in his signature move; simply using your ripped undergarments in replacement of his gloves. Despite your annoyance, you won't deny how hot it was seeing him do it.

"Want me to cut you?" he hitches the blade to your inner thighs, the still-warm blade makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand. "Can I?"

"...Not there. Somewhere else."

Leon stands, the tip of the blade on your stomach. He towers over you, his broad shoulders making your cunt ache for more. "Here?" You shake your head so he flicks his gaze to inspect your torso.

Taking the edge of your shirt from your hands, he instead slips it between your teeth and you narrow your eyes at him. With your hands free, you lean back onto the windows, chest rising and falling in anticipation as Leon traces the knife all the way up to your chest.

He pauses at your collarbone but you shake your head once again and so he lowers it to your pec. You shake your head but Leon is gazing at it intently. He strokes tenderly over the surgery scar then pulls the skin of your chest taut and before you can protest he digs the tip of the blade in.

You bite down on your shirt, hissing as he drags down the tip. Crimson seeps through, beading up like delicate pearls before it gushes out in small streams. Leon's knee digs up your cunt and the spark of pleasure makes you lurch forward to grip Leon's shoulders. He pushes you back, the thump once again earning giggles from the group on the outside.

"You know I love you, (Y/N). I'm sick and tired of pretending you don't love me back."

Bewildered, you stare at him with furrowed brows.

He twists the blade and you inhale sharply as he slices it, lifting the knife at the end which cuts you shallowly at the end of his...symbol?

What the fuck was he cutting into you?

"Since you're too fucking stubborn to accept it, I'll make sure you know it. I don't know what rich boarding school trauma you have or if mommy and daddy never showed you how love is supposed to work — you're fucking mine."

He drags the blade down, three quicks slices follow and your eyes well with tears while your hips gyrate down on the delicious friction he has provided.

"You think I won't understand you? Think I'll hurt you? I'm the only one in this fucked up world that'll love you unconditionally, Trustfund. I love you, (Y/N)."

The next letter — you belatedly realize — hurts more as he carves a jagged O.

"I love you. I love you, I fucking love you, I'll love you till the day we die, and even in Hell, I'll find you and I'll love you."

N hurts less, Leon's gotten the hang of the angles and how quick and deep he should do it.

"I'll burn the whole fucking world down if it meant I could stay by your side."

Your chest is bleeding, rivers of red escaping and it stings in the cool air so Leon presses himself closer. The warm of his body on yours numb out the pain of the pressure he had applied. Blood is staining your torso, dripping and mixing with your slick and his jeans and you're so turned on you can't find the words.

Leon just kisses your cheek, licking up the tears that escaped and you moan as he kisses you.

Leon thinks his ears are fucking with him. He pulls back, not far enough to let your lips leave his but far enough that he can look at you. There's a dopey grin on your face, and he can feel the shape of your lips as you speak.

"Luh — Love you too, Leon...Love you s'fuckin' much."

It's a miracle no one has pulled the curtains back.

Maybe the noises were keeping them away. Everyone's a voyeur until the chance is actually presented in front of them, right? Hearing the both of you is enough. Seeing is too embarrassing.

You're completely wrong, by the way. Ashley had chased everyone out, locked the goddamn door of this red room with a giggle. Not knowing the true horrors that were hidden.

It was for the best.

Leon has you lifted in his arm, lapping up at the blood on your sternum as his cock bullies in and out of your cunt. The gymnast staring at him from over your shoulder makes him grin and he pulls you firmly down onto his cock, groaning as you squeal.

"Fuh — Fuck! Fuck! Leon!"

You're gripping onto whatever leverage you can find purchase off without ripping off the pictures. But he's balls deep and you keen, hands finding itself tangling with the curtain rod. Leon is so rough, so intent on destroying your cunt as his hot breath protects his name from the air, every jostle and thrust makes you clench around his cock like a vice.

"Fuck, this boypussy's made just for me, huh? Sucks me in every time I pull out, greedy little cunt." His words are making your vision blur with tears, he latches onto your nipple and your arm jerks.

The curtain rod falls with a crash and Leon immediately pulls you in. He shield your naked body with his own, completely ignoring the dead body inches away. He expects horrified screams. The both of you are greeted with silence instead.

The room is empty.

More space to fuck you in, he thinks as he smirks.

Limply, you lay out like a starfish on the couch. Cunt gaping and slick with your juices and blood and his spit. His dick is streaked with blood and your cum coating it, he spits a glob off spit onto your dick and you whine, reaching for a throw pillow to hold onto as he uses his thumb to jerk it.

"Fuck, you look so fucking handsome right now."

"How...how have you not cummed yet...?" You pant out, hips lifting and twisting in an attempt to escape Leon's thumb. He presses your hips down with his other hand and you groan, eyes rolling back.

"Needa' make up for lost time," he says as he licks his lips. "Missed this hole so badly. Shit, look at the way he's winking at me."

"Stop talkin' to my cunt!" He grunts as you kick his shoulder, turning to bite into your calf with a gleeful chuckle.

"Fuck, I wanna make a movie with you." Your pretty little prince-y parts are more forthcoming than you are. Your cock jumps and he sees the way you squeeze down.

"Say less, baby." You try to kick him again but he leans back faster than you. He meanders towards his discarded pants, pulling out his phone. You try to catch your breath, one arm tossed over your eyes as your legs go lax, thighs twitching as you try to calm your heart rate.

The light from his phone feels warm, but maybe that's just you being sensitive. He makes sure it takes in all the details of his carved name, then pans down to your sopping hole and a throaty moan escapes you as his fingers slip inside with ease.

"Jesus, I can feel your heartbeat." The casual way he says it makes you whine, he pumps his three fingers in and out before curling it up, and your back arches. The cutest "ah!" coming from you.

He hopes the phone picks it up. He admires the way you as he lines up his cock to your cunt. Slides it through your lips, hissing in pleasure as he bumps his cock with yours, and you squirm, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Leon, cum in me. Please, fucking Christ, just cum in me already."

His cock is so thick. The stretch of it never fails to make your mouth open in a silent scream, choked-out moans of his name or God escaping. When his balls smack against you, you see white behind your eyelids, and Leon chuckles as he feels your walls spasm around him.

He pulls back. The streaks of liquid on his cock just make him all the more eager. Leon lets the camera take in your body as it takes him. Plowing into you with abandon, bracing himself on his fist as his hips rattle yours.

"Fuck, yes. Tighten up around me, that's it, baby. Yeah, that's it."

He angles the phone away, wanting to see your face without it blocking him. It falls onto the floor and Leon steals your breath away as he kisses yo. His mouth tastes like blood and beer and you.

His brows pinched as his back rippled with pleasure. "I'm close," he warns and you whimper, locking your ankles behind him just as you wrap your arms behind him.

"C'mon, baby. Fill me up, yeah —Nghah! Yeah! There, right there! Fill me up, Leon, please — Ah!"

Pressing his forehead with yours, he claims your lips once again and his thrusts get sloppy, uncoordinated. He comes with a moan of your name, sheathed in as deep as he could get and the warmth that fills you makes your cunt clench around him tightly, milking him as your orgasm washes over you for one last time that night.

"Fuck, (Y/N)..." Leon presses gentle kisses to your cheek, stroking your neck as he pants.

"I...I promised Ashley I was gonna jog with her tomorrow," you mumble out, whining as Leon's hips stutter into you. He chuckles, trailing kisses down your neck.

"I'll take responsibility." "You better."

"Poor Michael," Ashley's brows slope as she watches the TV replay the news.

You're honestly impressed Leon managed to sneak out with the goddamn body, he wrapped it up in the curtain if you recalled, and placed it on his backseat. Leon didn't wanna leave you in the car but you were passed out, sleeping peacefully. So he spent a good hour or two just tossing the guy's body in the school's pool.

When you came to, you were at home with him wiping you down and your chest wrapped up.

It's been a week since the two of you were official, Michael's case seemed more and more hopeless — Leon had done a good job erasing traces of evidence. Like a proper killer.

His fingers squeeze your calves, and you groan softly, curling your toes as he massages it. Ashley turns back to peek at the both of you. You with your legs splayed over Leon's lap and him casually working out the kinks in them, all while you were wrapped with a blanket around your shoulders.

"You two aren't the slightest bit scared? He was at the party y'know. Michael and that Ghostface dude," she shudders and looks ahead at the screen. "Fuck, what if I made out with him!?"

Leon snorts, shaking his head. "I'm sure you didn't, Ash." You nod in agreement, adjusting the pillows under you, ignoring the sting of the wound under the bandages.

"Bet if you did, you'd know. He'd be so fucked up you'd probably taste blood in his mouth or somethin' freaky like that." Leon glances your way, and you give him a grin.

Ashley pouts, sinking back. You reach a hand out to play with her golden locks. It makes her shoulders droop and she leans back to you.

"You didn't even know the guy, Ashley. Ya' know what they say about killers, right? They only kill the people they know, you know any killers?"

She thinks about it.

"...You scream at the sight of a cockroach and Leon can barely parallel park without getting teary-eyed..."

"Hey," Leon's ears turn red. "That was one time and everyone was staring, okay?"

Ashley laughs, shaking her head as she switches the channels. Yeah, you were right! She didn't know any killers. She was safe hiding out here in your apartment with Leon until the police wrapped up their investigations.

As long as she had the both of you, she'd be safe. Which she wasn't wrong about — Ashley meant too much to you to be hurt. Her mother didn't have to worry about the Ghostface killers attacking her, the two of them were right behind her. Braiding her hair, asking if she wants popcorn for their movie night.

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #gay reader #male reader insert #male!reader #ftm reader #transmale reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x male reader

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 6 months

Text

Addiction

Part One: A Chance Encounter

Warnings: Language, mentions of alcohol and being drunk

A/N: Ok, so not smut, but its coming, we have to set the scene first 😉

You felt your phone buzz in your hand, the screen illuminating your face in the dark dining room as you looked through your text messages. You rested your back against the bar located in the corner of the room.

Darien: Wish you were here. London is boring without you

You: That’s impossible. You’re literally in my favorite city right now

Darien: I’ve been in my hotel ever since work ended. My team went out to the pubs without me

You: You should really be going out with them

Darien: Always thought my first time in London would be with you. Love you

You: I-

You were stopped from responding by a glass of liquor being shoved in your face. You looked up to see Sierra in front of you, double fisting two glasses of what you suspected to be a rum and coke, your choice of drink for these industry events. You were among the Hollywood elite tonight in a New York City restaurant, celebrating some actor, whose name you couldn’t bother to remembers, fifth trendy and over-priced alcohol launch. You were far from a celebrity, but often made the guest list of these events on behalf of your boss. Working as the assistant for the VP of publicity at Atlantic Records admittedly had very few perks, one of them being able to rub elbows at parties with the latest TV heartthrob or whoever managed to be at the top of the Billboard 100 chart that week.

Did you sound a little jaded? Sure, but you were also borderline tipsy.

“Was that Darien?”, she asked, looking around the room as she took a small sip from her glass. “Ooh, Bad Bunny. That’s five.” Sierra bounced on her tippy toes as you narrowed your eyes to get a better look across the dark room. The two of you had spent the last hour trying to identify as many celebrities as you could. You were losing, having accidentally mistaken Kevin Jonas for Joe Jonas. You tried to argue that it was an easy mistake, given that they were brothers, but Sierra was unwilling to give you a pass.

“I don’t think that’s Bad Bunny, and yes. He just got done with his meetings for the day. He decided to stay in the hotel for the rest of the night I guess.” You took a big swig of your drink. You way past the part of the night where you were still feeling the effects of alcohol. “All of his colleagues went out to some bars.” You slipped your phone back into your clutch, tucking the bag underneath your arm again. You’d respond to him when you got home later.

“Dull Darien”, Sierra slurred her words as she giggled out the nickname she had given your boyfriend when you started dating over three years ago. You caught her just as she stumbled over her heels, making a mental note to watch how many drinks she had.

Sierra had been your best friend since essentially birth. Your moms were best friends, and you grew up two houses down from one another. When you were kids you were attached at the hip, and not much had changed over the years, as she became your plus one to all of these events. She knew you better than you knew yourself, and she was never shy about how she felt about your boyfriends. There had been Jerky Jacob, your high school boyfriend, Bossy Brian, a guy you had dated right out of college who Sierra was convinced was a narcissist, and finally Two-Timing Trey, who had earned the name for obvious reasons.

“Enough with the nickname, S.” You warned with a dramatic roll of your eyes, knowing she had no intention on stopping. “He’s not dull, he’s just-“ you were having a difficult time finding a word that wouldn’t edge her on. “He’s boring. Just say it. Not an exciting bone in his body.” You opened your mouth to object, but quickly closed it. Truthfully you had no defense. Darien was boring, and that was putting it nicely. The first time you met him, you definitely didn’t feel the usual butterflies of excitement, but you were just getting out of your relationship with Trey, and you weren’t looking for thrill or adventure, you were looking for safety, and if Darien was anything, he was safe.

“I’m just saying, you’re hot as fuck, you could probably have any guy you wanted. Hell, you could probably walk up to any of these celebs and go home with them.” You scoffed, tipping your glass up to get the last drop of top shelf rum. The dress you were wearing was borrowed from one of your stylists friends, a sequin cocktail dress from 16Arlington with a rather large peekaboo cutout at the front that showed off your cleavage. “Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want some random celeb. Maybe I like my dull boyfriend.” Your words sent Sierra into a fit of giggles, partially from her inebriation and partially because she knew you were lying through your teeth. “Please don’t pretend like if Drake came up to you right now, you wouldn’t jump at the chance to leave with him.”

“Damn, my money was gonna be on Brad Pitt. He seems like more your type.” You turned on your heels to see a tall figure, his chestnut curls hitting right at his eyebrows, a frame to his gorgeous blue eyes, the rest of his hair cut into a mullet. You immediately noticed his handsome smile as you studied his face. You had learned early on in your career how to identify which guys were someone and which ones were wannabes in this industry. He was tall enough to be an athlete, but too lanky. He still had life in his eyes, something that a lot of actors lost when they realized they were selling their soul for a recurring role on a CW drama. That left someone in the music industry. You recognized him, his face was hung up in the halls of Atlantic Records, but the name escaped you.

“He’s a little bit out of my age range. I prefer my actors to still have a will to live.” Your joke earned you a chuckle from the-, the mullet suggested alternative band, but the cocky stance and southern drawl to his accent made you think rapper- the rapper. “Well, tell me-“, he paused to allow you to fill the silence with your name. “Y/N, and this is Sierra.” You gestured at your friend who was having trouble standing up straight, her hand gripping the bar to steady herself.

“Well, Y/N, Brad Pits loss is my gain.” His words were suggestive, no doubt, but he spoke with such a confidence, you weren’t sure if he was actually flirting with you, or if that’s just how he talked with everyone. “I’m Jack.” He extended his hand out to you, and you cautiously accepted, quickly breaking apart.

“I know where I know you from. You’re Jack Harlow! I love your song”, she snapped her fingers carelessly, hoping it would jog her memory, “Business Class.” She punctuated her words with a hiccup.

“Close enough.” He chuckled, his gaze never leaving your face. He was trying his hardest not to look down at your body, even though he thought you looked fucking gorgeous. “I thought I recognized you from somewhere.” Jack’s eyebrows perked up when you spoke. “I see your face every day on my way to work.” You could tell you lost him when his face fell. “Sorry, I should probably explain. I work for Jason.” You could see the dots quickly connecting in his mind. “Oh, fuck yeah, I love Jason. He’s keeps me out of trouble.”

You felt your phone vibrate against your side. You were inclined to ignore it until you felt it pulse a few more times. “Sorry, I have to get this.” You just missed Jack’s look of disappointment as you looked down at your phone.

Darien: Couple of pictures of the view from my hotel. Wish you were here.

You scrolled through the photos, all different, slightly out of focus angles of the Thames. Leave it to Darien to also take the most boring pictures.

“Must be really important.” Your head shot back up at Jack, who was now resting his elbows atop the bar. “Oh, it’s nothing.” You shook your head as your phone slipped back into your bag. “Just a family member.” You weren’t sure why you lied in the moment. Jack didn’t know you, and besides the initial flirting, he wasn’t trying to make a pass at you. At least as far as you could tell; you were just starting to sober up.

“Let’s ask Jack.” Sierra was now standing in the middle of the two of you, leaning a little too close to Jack for comfort. He backed up as he smelled the vodka on her breath. “Jack, Y/N is dating this guy right now, and I think he’s just the most boring person on the planet.” Jack looked at you with a smirk on his face as you tried to hide your embarrassment, feeling the heat creep up your neck. Jack was hotter than any guy you had previously dated and was already more exciting than your current boyfriend just in five minutes of conversation.

“I mean, the only thing he likes talking about is Game of Thrones and his Lego collection.” Sierra continued, ignoring your pokes to her side to get her to shut up.

“He sounds like a fucking nerd.” Jack uttered under his breath, but you heard him loud and clear. Sierra did as well, frantically nodding her head. “He totally is.” She lowered her head, most likely thinking that was going to help her whisper, but her next words were loud above the blaring music. “Plus, she told me the sex is terrible. Like he barely lasts for more than a couple minutes.” You caught the look of smugness on Jack’s face as he listened to how unsatisfying your current sex life was.

“Okay, I think that’s enough. Time for you to go home.” You yanked at Sierra’s arm, causing her to fall into Jack. He caught her just in time, helping to hold her up. You roughly grabbed her phone out of her hand, pulling up the Uber app. “Fuck”, you cursed under your breath, seeing that the closest Uber was about 30 minutes away and surge pricing had gone into effect.

“Hey, I’ve got a car waiting that you guys are more than welcome to use to get back to your place.” Jack could tell you were more than done with the night, and he hoped his gesture would smooth out your less than successful meet cute. “Are you sure, we really can wait for an Uber.” As if she had timed it, Sierra’s knees buckled, Jack catching her under her arms. “I’m sure.

****

You rubbed your hands up and down your arms, crossing them over your chest as you left the venue. It was colder now than when you arrived, and you were wishing you had that coat that was laying on your bed back at your apartment. Jack followed behind you, Sierra’s arm draped over his shoulders for support. You quickly located the black SUV waiting at the curb, and opened the door, watching as Jack helped Sierra into the back of the vehicle, immediately slumping over to lay across the seats.

“Thanks, Jack, I really appreciate you letting us borrow your car. How are you gonna get back?” You looked at your feet as you asked the question, resisting the urge to look up at his face; his eyes were even brighter underneath the streetlights.

“I’m actually staying right there.” He pointed across the street to a tall metropolitan style building, the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. He stuck his hands into the front pocket of his trouser pants, his shoulders pinned to his ears as he tried to stay warm as well. “The car was just in case I wanted to head to another party, but the hotel bed sounds a lot more appealing right now.” There was that tone again, so suggestive, as if he was inviting you to his hotel room as well. “Have a good night, Y/N. Hope I see you again.” He extended his hand out, his nails perfectly manicured, and you found yourself wondering what his hands would feel like exploring your body. You let that thought ruminate in your head for a second before coming back to reality. You grabbed his hand, returning the gesture, the two of you lingering on the sidewalk. “Goodnight.”

Jack watched as you climbed into the vehicle next to Sierra, before jogging across the street to his hotel.

“He seemed like a nice guy”, Sierra remarked as she rested her head against your shoulder, closing her eyes, “and he was hot as fuck.” She let out a hum of amusement as she started to drift off to sleep.

“Yeah, such a nice guy.” You flipped the room key around in your hand that Jack had planted there. You grazed your thumb over the engraved letters, “The Waldorf Astoria Hotel, Room 1423”, emblazoned in gold lettering on the plastic card.

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#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

148 notes · View notes

httpknjoon · 8 months

Text

can't take my eyes off you | jjk

plot | Sweet September surprises their fans with their own rendition of the classic song.

words | 844

genres | fluff, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au

pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader

note | -

main masterlist | drabble series

“Honey, attending such an event is not part of your itinerary…”

Your mom’s worried tone from your phone echoed in your hotel bathroom as you got ready for Sweet September’s concert tonight. After tying your hair in a half ponytail with your white silk ribbon, you tried to curl the ends of your hair with your fingers.

“I know, I know, mom. But the band personally invited me,” you replied before looking at the camera to see your mom sipping from her morning tea. “They are great performers. I and Astrid enjoyed their concert when they went there in Zafiro.”

Even though you are already a grown adult, with you owning a title and a long list of responsibilities, you still have to talk with your parents before doing something. And that’s what you are doing right now. You would usually go straight to your dad. He is strict but your mom’s stricter. You tried talking to him initially but he’s busy with meetings. So you reached out to The Queen to let her know about the concert.

She squinted her eyes, “A personal invite from the band? How so?”

You paused, “Oh… Uhm… I had a chat with their vocalist last night at the Gala. We already met before that.”

“And can I know the name of this vocalist we’re talking about?”

The image of Jungkook kissing your hand last night suddenly played in your head, unknowingly putting a slight smile on your face.

“Jungkook.”

Then, a noise from your mother’s background snapped you back into reality. A thin line formed on your lips as you waited for a reaction from your mother. But she just looked at you for a minute. Like she was examining you, you can feel her gaze on you even though she’s on the other side of the world.

“YN…” she called for you in a specific tone that made your shoulders tense up.

“Mom.” you sighed. “I’m not dating him. I’m sure I’m not the only one who gets personal invites from him.”

“That’s great to know, honey. I know you’re smart enough with your decisions, including who to date. You know how we would always want the best partner for you as you will be leading Zafiro in the future.”

Your jaw tightened as you tried to focus on running the mascara through your lashes. Your shoulders suddenly bore this hefty weight. The same weight you feel every time you put a crown on your head. You tried to ignore it, clearing your throat before you spoke,

“Anyway, Mom, I’ll keep my attendance lowkey. Okay?” You plumped your lips before smiling at her. “I promise, no one would even notice I was there.”

@/T4KEM3H0M3: OMGOMGOMG THERE’S A SPECIAL SONG

@/ot4sweetsept: y’all are so lucky!!! wdym they added a song to the setlist???!?

@/sweetseptfan bro stop flirting with ur gf ur literally on stage

@/woosungpiercing: lol jungkook keeps on eyeing the upper level during their concert tonight in new york

@/CARTERSBASS: louise chu should give her stylist a fucking raise! her dress looks so good!! #DenimJungleNY

@/swingingguitars: oomf said a princess attended tonight Replying to @/swingingguitars @/friskywhiskey: pics or it didn’t happen @/denimjunglesz: omg is it princess astrid??? I heard she’s a big fan

@/woosunginaday: im betting twenty dollars jungkook’s gf is in tonight’s concert Replying to @/woosunginaday @/woosunginaday: i mean he can’t stop smiling and walking to the right side of the stage tonight

@/PopCrave: Sweet September performs their own cover of Frankie Valli’s Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.

@/coldjeon: @.PrincessYNOfZafiro what r u doing here 🤔🤔🤔🤔 [insert video]

@/calliessong: omg louise is here again!! she’s at the vip standing

@/jkslouise: now we know why there’s a special song 👀

“Is everyone having a great time?”

Jungkook asked with his wired microphone and the whole audience roared with screams and cheers. The bright lights pointed at him made it hard for him to see you in the crowd. He offered you a VIP Standing ticket earlier but you declined, opting for a seat more secluded.

“Now, is there anyone here up for a surprise?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Every member smiled with the excitement from the crowd. They don’t really do surprise songs at every stop of their tour. So it thrills them too when Jungkook brings up a surprise song idea last night for them to play tonight. They only rehearsed the said song this morning.

“Seems like everyone is up for it.” Jungkook turned his head to his bandmates, silently signaling them to get ready. He looked back to the audience. His eyes stopped at a specific spot, “By the way, I would like to greet the beautiful lady in–”

Cutting him off, Woosung began playing the drums for the song’s intro and so did Carter and Mingyu with their guitars. They all smiled when they heard a small “aww” of disappointment from their fans. Jungkook combed through his damp hair with his fingers before singing the first line.

“You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you.”

taglist rules

THE PRINCESS AND THE ROCKSTAR TAGLIST

@heartjiminie @rbrm094 @rjsmochii @jjkreblog @sugaslittlekookies @saintsugar @alpha-mommy69 @natalia-rmnva @stupendouscookiehumanmug @yoonjinhusbands @lilliankoo @gxtwllsn @snkyuv @canyon-lwt @hiii-priestess @jksgirlhere @bbtsficrecs @jnk-pop @jjeonjjk7 @tokkiggukie @kooliv @oopscoop @hani0407 @taebae19 @yunki-yunki-yunki

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21

#bts humor #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts series #bts established relationship au #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook series #rockstar jungkook #the princess and the rockstar jjk

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leaentries · 5 months

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17 and 🎄 on the list with drysdale:)

i’m so soft for jamie bro

lea’s christmas special!

You’ve always loved Christmas, even if you wake up 2 days before to a text from your family saying they couldn’t make it to you this year.

Jamie had noticed that you seemed down, compared to your usual jolly demeanor so close to your favorite day of the year. You were currently hanging out in his apartment, since this would be the last time you’d see him before he left for the holidays.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t sad about him leaving. Of course you understood and wanted him to go see his family, but with your family no longer serving as a distraction, his absence will definitely be felt.

You and Jamie had a strange relationship. The two of you said you were “best friends,” but the flirty remarks and touches proved differently. Everyone always assumed you were dating, but these claims were ultimately met with denial.

It was no secret that you had feelings for Jamie and you assumed it was reciprocated, but the fear of rejection was enough to keep you from saying anything.

“and I think Mom had plans to go shopping pretty much as soon as I get there,” Jamie chuckled. You knew how much he cared for his mother and how much she loved to spoil him.

“That’s super cool, J.” You tried your best to put on a fake smile, but it just came out awkward. See, you haven’t exactly mentioned the fact that you would be alone for Christmas to Jamie yet, you didn’t want him to feel bad.

“Hey, what’s up with you lately? You haven’t really been yourself the last couple days,” His eyes were wide with concern, “Which is surprising considering you’ve texted me every morning since June with a Christmas countdown.”

You let out a slight breath of amusement, “Nothings up, I’ve just been super tired recently. All of the holiday shopping must be getting to me,” You trailed off, trying your best to make your excuse believable.

“Mhm, I’m sure that’s all. You know you can talk to m-” He was cut off by the loud ringing of his phone. Looking down at the screen, you saw the familiar picture of his mom’s contact appear.

Taking that as your escape, you got off the stool you had been sitting on.

“On that note, I’m gonna leave you to finish packing since your flight leaves in a few hours.”

Jamie shook his head in protest, attempting to say something, but was cut off by your hurried words.

“I’ll see you when you get back from your trip. Merry Christmas, Jamie.” With that you quickly left his apartment, the sound of the door echoing in your wake.

The next day slowly rolled by. Apparently, your Christmas Eve now consisted of watching lame reruns of old movies and eating the food you had cooked for your family.

You heard the timer on the oven go off, signaling that your last batch of cookies were done. Walking over to the kitchen, you slipped on some oven mitts and removed the pan from the scolding environment.

After placing them onto the cooling rack, a knock sounded from your front door.

Confused, you removed the mitts and slowly made your way to the door. You peeked through the peep hole, only to be met with a familiar face. Swiftly, you swung the door open.

“Jamie?”

Jamie’s bright smile warmed your aching heart. He made his way inside your apartment, making a point to sniff the delicious aroma coming off the cookies.

“Mmmmm, something smells yummy” Jamie walked over, grabbing a cookie, only to immediately drop it, “Shit! That’s hot!”

You laughed slightly, “I just took them out, idiot.”

“What with the attitude, missy? It’s Christmas Eve.” He gave you an exasperated look.

“Exactly! Why are you here? I thought you were going home for Christmas?”

Jamie walked up to you, placing his hands on your elbows, “Well I couldn’t leave you here alone.”

You were dumbfounded. How could he have known you were gonna be alone? You never told him that your family bailed.

“I-I’m confused. How did you-” Jamie cut you off.

“I called your family. When I noticed how sad you were, I called them to see if they knew why.” He suddenly appeared shy, as a light blush covered his cheeks, “I’m sorry if that was wrong, it’s just you weren’t talking to me and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Jamie was taken back as you wrapped your arms around his torso. He didn’t hesitate to return the favor, placing a kiss on your head.

You were thankful he couldn’t see your face, or the burning sensation would definitely give your feelings away.

Jamie slightly pulled back, looking down at you, “Now can we eat the cookies?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, J. We can eat the cookies.” He beamed, running over to the cooling rack.

Your lonely christmas turned out to be not-so-lonely, after all.

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale fluff #jamie drysdale x reader #anaheim ducks #leawrites💋#lea’s christmas 🎄

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justmystyles · 9 months

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Hey, you are literally one of my favorite writers out here. I honestly love every piece you've written, it's just all really really really good. (guess I am not as good with words as you, oops)

Anyway, I am so glad your requests are open. I was wondering if you could write something where the reader comes from a difficult family. emotionally abusive mother, distant father, eldest daughter syndrome, all that jazz.

So she's sort of moved away but still keeps in touch with her family cuz she does sorta love them but it's hard. So it's like she's got some body image issues and she's closed off, pretty funny but likes to use humor to hide her feelings, has a lot of acquaintances but doesn't like sharing herself with people much (why do I feel like I am describing someone specific lol)

And one day it all just becomes too much ig. I don't know exactly how the story goes, guess I am just looking for some comfort. had a weird few days.

Honestly, love you work. You're great. Thank you for reading that bs. Doesn't matter much if you decide to write it or not. You're already perfect. <3

Let's talk about this ask I got a few weeks ago, shall we?

First of all, I am honored to be considered one of your favorite writers on here, your words are so sweet and I love you.

Now, getting down to business, this ask genuinely made me cry because I know this reader. I am this reader and it was truly terrifying that a stranger on the internet described me so well to me. As soon as I read this, I knew it was going to be my next series, and after weeks of taking down notes and ideas, I finally started actually writing it today.

It'll still be a bit before I start putting it out there, this premise means so much to me that I want to really take my time and do it the justice it deserves, but I have included a little teaser for you below the read more so that you can get a taste of what I'm working on. I've also tagged my tag list peeps so that you all can see what I've been up to.

I'll still be working on NYIML and the other asks I have (if you sent me one, I love you and I'm working on it, please be patient, life has kind of blown up over the last week or so).

You would watch on in awe, watching the music come to life, watching Harry work. From time to time, you would meet his gaze, noticing a softness in his eyes that warmed your insides. You brushed your feelings off, reminding yourself that Harry was just a kind person. He probably looked at everyone like that. He would often invite you to join the group for lunch, or drinks after a successful session. You always declined politely, certain he was just asking to be polite.

But Harry wasn’t just asking to be polite, and those looks that he threw in your direction were different than the way he would look at anyone else. He was fascinated by you, he felt like he needed to know more. When he met you, he thought you were beautiful, and the refreshments that you had laid out showed how kind and thoughtful you were. But he knew there was more to you, and he couldn’t wait to find out all of it.

You truly were the studio mom, always making sure everyone had what they needed. You would bring coffee and breakfast in the morning, make everyone’s lunch orders, or reservations if they decided to go out. But you would never join them. He found that curious, but also disappointing. He understood if you wanted to focus on work while you were all locked away in the studio, hoping to take those lunches and extra curricular times to get to know you, but those moments never came.

He had asked your coworkers about you, hoping to gain some kind of intel that could help him break the ice. Everyone told him how sweet you were, always asking about them and their goings on, but often changing the subject when the conversation would turn to you. He also learned about how funny you were. He would have never guessed, based on how quiet you’d been around him. He figured some of that was because of his celebrity status, he was used to people being shy around him, but they would typically warm up over time. You hadn’t.

There was a bit of worry in his mind that maybe you had an issue with him. You weren’t cold with him, you had always been incredibly kind in your interactions with him and that threw him for a loop. He racked his brain, trying to think of anything he might have said or done to upset you, but nothing came to mind. Perhaps you just weren’t a fan of his? Whatever it was, he was determined to figure it out.

One afternoon, he was coming back from lunch and he overheard you talking to someone in one of the studios. He lingered by the doorway, he knew eavesdropping was wrong, but he was desperate.

The conversation wasn’t much, you were just talking about a television show, but he heard the excitement in your voice and couldn’t help but smile. You sounded so cute. And then you laughed, and he could have died right there on the spot. You had an incredible laugh. He wanted to do anything to be the reason that beautiful sound came out of your mouth.

Harry was so distracted that he didn’t notice that you were coming out of the studio. You weren’t expecting anyone to be standing there, so you bumped right into him.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry Harry.” Your eyes were wide with panic.

He put his hands on your shoulders to steady you. “Don’t be. That was on me. It’s what I get for zoning off in front of doors.” He chuckled.

You smiled politely and nodded at him. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“I was actually hoping to talk–”

He was interrupted by the ring of your phone. You pulled it out of your pocket and saw your mother’s name flash across the screen. “Crap, I’m so sorry it’s my mom. Do you mind if I take this?”

“No, not at all. You should always take calls from your mum.”

“Right,” you scoff. “You’ve never talked to my mother.” You answer the phone, walking away quickly.

He noticed your posture stiffen when you answered, and he hoped everything was okay. Once you were out of sight, he left, returning to the studio. “Y/N is taking a phone call, she’ll be right back.”

When you finally returned, you apologized with a smile on your face, but Harry could see the sadness in your eyes. You took a seat at the computer, and he came up behind you, placing his hand softly on your back. You subconsciously relaxed into his touch.

“Is everything alright?” He asked.

You put on your best fake smile, which he immediately saw though. “Yeah, thanks.”

He wanted to press, but he knew it wasn’t the right time or place. He also wasn’t totally sure you even liked him.

@allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry concept #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n

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kaldurcalm · 3 months

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List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers ♡

I'm gonna be real with you, these always seem to come at a time when I feel least equipped to answer the question.

On the bright side, I guess that means I get to recommend comics I like.

This is so cute and sweet that I'm bouncing just thinking about it. Just. Look at them.

Adorable. I love them. I love them so much. Thanks @moosopp-art!

We're gonna take a hard left. For some reason, watching this teenager take on an improbable amount of attackers is so so satisfying. He's the opest of op characters. I love it.

He's also clueless about how to live a normal life and all he wants is for his grandpa and sister to be happy. He goes to deliver a lunch his sister made to a friend, finds out the friend is in trouble, drops the kawaii lunchbox on a nearby table and takes out an entire gang like it's nothing.

This is a light day for him.

The friend is also a gangster. They met because he was hired to attack a teenager and as soon as he engaged he was like, nope, this kid is out of my league, pull back. Now he goes and helps the kid's grandpa on a regular basis.

He's still a gangster he's just more of a found family business now.

*chef's kiss* everyone is messy and the color palette changes often. The depictions of mental illness are extremely vibrant. Mal is doing her best and also a mess. The commenters affectionately refer to her main love interest as rat man. I love them.

*vibrating excitedly* how do I describe this one

Neoma starts as like, perky magical girl protagonist. Surprise! We get to explore toxic family dynamics.

She meets a guy who figures out he also has spiritual abilities. He likes her and is down for exploring but is Very Concerned by her grandfather. As he should be.

It's one of those I can see spirits stories and it looks like we're going to be exploring why being perky all the time is bad for you actually. I love the art style and the character dynamics. Can't wait to see where this one goes.

5. @painted-bees and their Hi-Note universe. They also have a webtoon called Woven and I really wanna see that through to the end, but Hi-Note is a bit more relevant to my current age and life experiences. Adhd 🤝 autism bros. (Not platonic but also sort of platonic.)

It's just a good depiction of (mostly) two people going holy shit, no one has ever understood me in this way before. I love it. I love that. Cortez scares me a little but they seem interesting too. (Eldritch being. They don't show up as much because it's still in development.)

~::~

OK. Thank you. Smiling now. This was good.

#i have like five different layers of exhaustion clouding my perception but i don't wanna sleep yet #asking games

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gnpwdrnwhiskey · 9 months

Text

Over When It's Over

Pairing- Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word Count- 650-ish

Warnings- it's just so much angst. and mentions of alcoholism.

Author's Note- so according to this poll, at least some of you wanted to read this....my usual headcanon for Frankie is that he has a woman who stands by his side no matter what, this isn't that. this is a Frankie who came home from Colombia and fell into a bottle and hasn't found his way out yet. there's no happy ending, but I'd kinda like to think if I ever visited these two again, there could be.....

"Babe? You home?"

Shit.

You weren't expecting him back so soon and you start packing a little faster.

But you don't bother answering him, the apartment's about the size of a shoebox, he'll find you sooner rather than later. Add that to the list of things that you're sick of- losing the house and having to live in this shitbox because it's all you can afford on one income.

"Babe?" He stops in the doorway, fresh beer in hand, of course. "What's going on?"

"What does it look like, Francisco?" You sigh. "I'm done. We're done. This is over. Drea and I will be at my mom's. We'll work something out with the lawyers."

"What the fuck? Are you serious with me right now? You weren't even gonna let me have a say in this? You're just gonna leave? You're just gonna take my baby from me?"

"There's nothing to say. I can't do it anymore, Frank. I can't live like this and I won't raise my daughter like this. You need help."

"I'm fine," he scoffs. "I just need to get my license back and everything will be fine, you'll see."

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" You laugh bitterly. "You're not fine. And no one is reinstating your license. If it had just been the suspension, we probably could've made it through this but then you went off with Pope and you lost Tom and you won't talk to me...."

"There's nothing to talk about," he insists with a shake of his head. Has been insisting for the last year and a half. "Bad mission, that's all. It's over, it's done."

"Oh, is it? Is it over? When's the last time you slept through the night? When's the last time you were really truly sober, hmm?? Or, or....contributed anything to this family? I can't even leave Drea alone with you because I don't know what the fuck I'll come home to! So not only am I the only one working, I'm also having to pay for fucking childcare!!"

"What do you want me to do? Flip fucking burgers? Or go hang out at the Home Depot or some shit and hope I get picked up for a crew?"

"Why not? Do you think you're too good for that? I go out and wait fucking tables five days a week because some one has to keep a roof over our heads! Do you think you're better than me? Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm not saying-- damnit, I'm not a fucking day laborer, I'm a goddamn pilot! A fucking good one!"

"No, what you are now is a fucking drunk!" You yell, slamming the suitcase closed.

The silence is deafening, Frankie standing with his arms crossed staring daggers at you from the other side of the bed and you wonder for the millionth time what happened to the man you met years ago- the one with the quiet confidence and warm smile, the quick laugh and laid-back manner.

"This is horseshit," Frankie mumbles. "Ten years and you're just gonna throw it all away? Over what? A couple beers?"

You drag your suitcase off the bed and put it by the door with the others before crossing to him, pulling him into a hug that he only halfheartedly returns.

"It's more than that and you know it. You need help, with the drinking and with whatever demons you're fighting with in your head. Doesn't have to be me, but talk to someone. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for Drea. She deserves the best version of you."

You give him a kiss on the check and step out of his loose embrace before grabbing your bags and walking out. And you don't look back.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales fanfic #francisco catfish morales #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #francisco morales

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 10 months

Text

The Benjamin Effect (Part 2) - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / Fem!OC (Kate Benjamin-Mitchell)

Length: 2.5k

Warnings: (Childhood) Enemies to Lovers; Angst; Tension; Strained Relationships; Referenced Past Infidelity (Not Mains); Referenced Past Breakups; Age-Gap (about 8 years), but Everyone is Very Much Adult; Female OC with Physical Description

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: Rooster and Kate are forced to work together for some wedding errands to chaotic results.

Note: Amelia is Maverick's biological daughter in this too. Kate is in her late 20s and Rooster is in his mid/late 30s.

Part 1

Master List

Wedding planning was, in fact, not fun. At least not when Kate Benjamin was involved.

Rooster tried. He really tried to get along with Kate, to play nice with Kate, to get Kate to like him. He took the sharp comebacks with a forced smile and a concealed glare, but he was quickly reaching his limit with Kate Benjamin. Even if he was just a little attracted to her.

“She is the most aggravating woman on the face of the planet!” Rooster complained to Phoenix over the phone as he paced around his living room.

It was Saturday and Kate and Rooster were supposed to run errands together for the wedding. Rooster was not looking forward to it. And he doubted that Kate was either. But they were the only ones available with Amelia’s volleyball tournament and Maverick in Nevada for some meeting.

So, they had to suck it up.

“She hates me for no reason! She hates Maverick! She probably hates every living and breathing creature besides her mom, her sister, and her grandparents! I don’t think that she’s physically capable of not throwing some comment in my direction when I say something even slightly stupid! And she always throws me the most aggravating smirk afterwards!”

“Have you considered not saying anything stupid?” Phoenix joked, sounding amused.

“This isn’t funny, Nat! She is absolutely infuriating every time that I’m forced to interact with her!”

“Is she hot?” came Hangman’s grating question.

“Does it matter!?”

“Yes, it matters,” Hangman scoffed, as if it were obvious.

“Are you attracted to her?” Phoenix asked, being less aggravating with her phrasing.

“She’s Maverick’s daughter! I can’t be attracted to her!”

“So, you’re attracted to her,” Phoenix filled in the blank, probably sharing a look with Hangman.

“No, I’m not because she is the most annoying individual that I’ve ever met in my life! So, even if I was attracted to her—which I’m not—that wouldn’t matter, because—”

“—You’re attracted to her,” Hangman and Phoenix voiced at the same time.

“No, I’m not!” Rooster insisted harshly. But he paused when he spotted Kate’s car pulling up into his driveway. “She’s here. I have to go.”

“Play nice.”

“And use protection,” Hangman added, earning a scowl from Rooster.

He hung up the phone and headed outside. Kate shot him a tired glare as she rolled down the window.

“Are you ready to go?” Kate asked him bluntly.

“Don’t sound so excited. We only get to spend the whole day together,” Rooster replied sarcastically, walking around her car.

"Lucky me,” Kate returned, shooting him a look.

Rooster tugged on the handle of the passenger side door only to find that it was locked. He passive aggressively tugged on the handle until Kate finally unlocked the door for him.

“And we’re off to a great start,” Rooster scoffed, sliding inside.

“Put your seatbelt on and let’s go,” Kate sighed, already backing out of the driveway.

The first stop on the list was to pick up the wedding bands. They were going to store the rings at Kate’s apartment until the wedding, since both Maverick and Penny added a secret inscription to the inside of the other’s ring. And so, Kate and Rooster had to pick up the rings.

“Let’s get this over with,” Rooster huffed, getting out of the car. They walked up to the store and Rooster opened the door for Kate.

“Such a gentleman,” Kate mocked him, walking inside the store.

They made their way over to a salesperson behind the many glass cases. The salesperson, a man probably around Maverick’s age, greeted them both with a kind smile.

“Hi, how can I help the two of you?”

“We’re here to pick up a set of wedding bands. The Benjamin-Mitchell wedding,” Kate stated, handing over the receipt to the salesperson.

“Yes, of course. Just a moment.”

The salesperson walked off, leaving Kate and Rooster by themselves. Rooster studied some of the engagement rings while Kate kept her gaze level, not even slightly interested.

“Looking at your options?” Kate asked dryly.

“Just curious,” Rooster defended himself. He looked over at Kate before turning back to the glass case. “Let me guess, you’d want something like that.”

Rooster pointed at a ring and Kate immediately frowned when she spotted it. The diamond was probably three carats or maybe even more. It was huge, gaudy, and all too much like the one that she received in the past for Kate to have the stomach to even look at it.

“Actually,” she stressed, turning away, “I think that if you need a ring that big to want to marry someone, you’re compensating for something in your relationship or . . . elsewhere.” Kate shot Rooster a sarcastic smile before leaning over. “In which case, you should go with that one.” Kate pointed at the largest diamond in the case, earning an annoyed glare from Rooster. “Just to be safe.”

“Benjamin-Mitchell,” the salesperson called, walking back towards them. Rooster and Kate straightened up, their squabble was forgotten with the salesperson present. “Here you are.”

“Thank you,” Kate replied, holding out her hand for the rings.

“Did you want to try them on? To make sure that they fit?” the salesperson asked, smiling as he looked between them. Rooster and Kate shared a horrified look.

“We’re not together,” Rooster blurted out first, a little louder than he needed to speak.

“We’re just picking up the rings. My parents are the ones getting married,” Kate explained, with more composure. “I’m the maid of honor and he’s the best man.”

“Oh, my mistake,” the salesperson laughed off. “You two just reminded me so much of me and my wife when we were your age.”

“We’re not together,” Rooster repeated, just as loudly as before.

“I think that he heard you the first time,” Kate told Rooster, her forced smile fading quickly. A little frazzled and more embarrassed, Kate picked up the bag. “But I am the same ring size as my mom, so I can try hers on.”

With slightly shaking hands, Kate pulled the smaller ring out of the bag. But it slipped straight through her butter fingers and clattered to the ground.

“I’ll grab it,” Rooster offered, bending down to pick it up.

Looking around, Rooster got onto his knees to grab the ring out from below the display case. He turned back to Kate and offered her the ring. While he was down on one knee. Holding out a wedding ring. To a woman that he just said he wasn’t with.

“Get up!” Kate urged, trying to yank Rooster up to his feet.

“What?” Rooster asked, clearly confused.

Up until he saw the look on the salesperson’s face and put the pieces together himself. Kate snatched the ring from Rooster’s hand and Rooster went pink at the realization. He fumbled for an explanation.

“We’re not together,” he added lamely again.

“Do you take checks?” Kate asked, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, we do,” the salesperson agreed, leading Kate towards the register.

Rooster stayed put where he was, worried that if he moved from his spot then he would implicate the two of them even more. He looked around the store and paused when he saw another salesperson, an older woman, watching him curiously.

“We’re not together,” Rooster replied awkwardly once again.

“Of course,” the woman returned, offering Rooster a small smile. “But her ring size is a six. Just in case you need it later.”

“Thank you,” Rooster grunted out with a wince.

~~~~~

“Alright, we’re getting in and then we’re getting out,” Kate sighed, leading the way up to the flower shop. “No more of whatever that was back there.”

“I agree,” Rooster replied, shaking his head.

“Good. I need you to find these flowers,” Kate stated, handing Rooster a list. “Just write down the prices marked on the boxes and make sure that it’s available in some kind of pastel blue. There are paint swatches on the back for reference. Take pictures if you’re not sure and I’ll figure it out later with my mom.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re too organized?” Rooster asked, turning the list over. “Or really into planning weddings?”

“Come find me when you’re done,” Kate replied instead.

They split off and started searching for the different flowers on the list. Kate took up the bulk of the work with the flowers for the bouquets and the reception centerpieces. Quickly moving down her list, Kate turned the corner and froze when she spotted a couple.

A very unwelcome, familiar couple.

Her ex-fiancé and his new fiancée to be more specific.

Kate hoped to stay out of their sight until she was sure that they left the store, but luck was not on her side. Not today. And certainly not when her ex was involved.

“Kate?” Kyle called, causing Kate to freeze. She turned to see Kyle and Eliza staring at her. Pursing her lips together, Kate straightened up. “Kate, is that you?”

“Unfortunately,” Kate replied stiffly with a false sense of calm.

“It’s good to see you,” Kyle spoke as he and Eliza walked over to Kate.

“I wish that I could say the same,” Kate returned, her tone strained and clipped.

Kyle sighed dramatically, causing Kate’s glare to sharpen and her cheeks to flame red with anger. Clenching her hands into fists, Kate looked between Kyle and Eliza.

“Let’s not do this here, Kate,” Kyle stated softly. “Don’t make another scene, please.”

“Another scene?” she repeated back, scoffing at the end.

“Like you did when you two broke up,” Eliza explained, like she was talking to a child.

“Right,” Kate held out, narrowing her eyes further. “Are you referring to the time when I caught the two of you in bed? Or some other time? Just to be sure that we’re all on the same page here.”

Eliza let out an indignant noise and Kyle had the audacity to look away from Kate’s glare like he was surprised that she was bringing that incident up. But before either Eliza or Kyle could respond to Kate’s reminder of the past, Rooster walked around the corner.

“I found everything on the list and took pictures,” Rooster replied, holding out the list to Kate. She took it without a glance.

“Who’s this?” Kyle asked, glancing at Rooster, who had a good five inches on him.

“I feel like I should be saying that to you,” Rooster stated, not liking Kyle’s tone.

“Let me make some introductions,” Kate cut in with teetering emotional stability. Rooster raised an eyebrow, hearing the surprising amount of emotion in Kate’s voice. “Rooster, this is Kyle, my ex-fiancé, and his new fiancée Eliza. She was already married to someone else, but that didn’t stop her or Kyle from starting an affair. Oh, and then she got pregnant with Kyle’s baby and then I found them in bed together.”

Kate forced a smile, holding back the tears at those horrible memories. Straightening up and brushing her hands down her shirt to steady herself, Kate turned back to Kyle and Eliza.

“Did I forget anything?” Kate questioned, with a mockingly kind smile.

Rooster’s gaze instantly hardened as he turned to glare at Kyle and Eliza, who seemed sheepish now that they couldn’t gaslight Kate without outside witnesses. Eliza looked away, fiddling with her engagement ring—which Rooster noticed was exceedingly large. But Kyle seemed to straighten up at the accusations, eyeing Rooster suspiciously.

“Rooster? What kind of name is Rooster?”

“It’s a callsign,” Kate snapped back at Kyle. “He’s a naval aviator.”

“I thought that you hated naval aviators.”

“No, just cheaters,” Kate replied simply without missing a beat.

“So, what? He’s like your boyfriend or something?” Kyle asked, glancing between Kate and Rooster.

Kate scoffed and rolled her eyes, which gave Rooster the opportunity to put his foot in his mouth. And least, probably in Kate’s opinion. But Rooster had met a thousand Kyle’s before, though perhaps not ones with quite this much audacity, but he certainly knew the type. And he certainly knew what would piss off douche bags like Kyle the most.

“Yeah, for a couple months now. Why? Were you hoping that she’d give you another chance?” Rooster asked, earning a surprised look from Kate. “Because I have to tell you, Caleb, I don’t think your chances are good.”

“It’s Kyle.”

“It’s irrelevant,” Rooster replied calmly with a condescending smirk. “Just like you.”

“This is my replacement?” Kyle scoffed, turning back to Kate, who slowly turned back to him.

“No, he’s not your replacement,” Kate stated, causing Rooster to briefly wonder if she was going to kick his ass for lying about their relationship. Or lack thereof. “He’s an upgrade. A big upgrade.”

Kyle scoffed and shook his head, sharing a look of disbelief with Eliza. But Kate didn’t miss the way that Eliza looked Rooster up and down. Threading her arm through Rooster’s, Kate leaned against him with a wide, fake smile thrown in Kyle’s direction.

“Well, we don’t want to take up your time bragging about our relationship. I’m sure that the two of you are super busy picking out some gaudy and overly expensive flowers to distract your guests from the fact that you’re both cheaters and that your relationship started as an affair.”

“Yes, congratulations,” Rooster added, sharing a smile with Kate. “It sounds like you two really deserve each other.” He turned to shoot Kyle a look in particular. “And thanks.”

“For what?”

“Well, if you didn’t fuck up with Kate, then I probably wouldn’t be in the best relationship of my life right now. But I also really hope that your karma bites you in the ass one day,” Rooster replied calmly. “How you ever thought that cheating on a woman, especially one as loyal, smart, and beautiful as Kate was okay, I’ll never understand. But I know that you’ll live to regret it one day.”

Rooster was too focused on watching Kyle’s indignant expression crumble that he missed Kate’s look of surprise at his words. Even Eliza and Kyle, for their part, looked shocked.

“You ready to go?” Rooster asked Kate, turning back to her.

“Yeah,” Kate replied quietly, a bit breathlessly, “I’m ready.”

She kept her arm looped through Rooster’s, and he didn’t move to remove it. But she shot one last look back at Kyle and Eliza and gave them a sarcastic wave in goodbye.

“Hope to never see you again,” Kate called, before turning towards the exit with Rooster.

A.N. This story is inspired in part by the Wedding Planner with Jennifer Lopez and Matthew McConaughey, which is where the ending scene here was directly inspired by.

Tags: @xoxabs88xox @indiestrashfire @avengersfan25

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #rooster top gun #rooster #rooster x oc #rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster bradshaw x oc

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crimson-calligraphyx · 7 months

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Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, tossing my phone down, and stood from my place on the couch. I returned to the kitchen where my mom and Victoria were having a lively conversation. Not wanting to impede, I simply went back to my task of making eggnog for the holiday, having only the eggs and sugar whipped together. Mom insisted she would start heating the milk in the saucepan while I took Noah's call, but I told her to let it be, knowing our conversation would be short-lived.

"Everything okay?" Vic asks after I slip by them to grab the milk and heavy cream from the refrigerator. "Just peachy," I mumbled, measuring the dairy and pouring it into the pot. I set the burner on medium before turning to the cabinet to grab the nutmeg, "Noah's flight was delayed. Supposedly needed to land elsewhere due to the snow here."

I hear my mom hum sympathetically, placing her hand on my upper back to rub. I shouldered her hand away, not wanting to be touched as I started to stew in aggravation and disappointment. "You know he'll be here, honey," she says calmly. "He's a man of his word." I laughed dryly, sprinkling the spice into the milk. "Sure, he is."

The room became thick with tension, and I felt their eyes on me while I worked away at the eggnog. I kept mine and Noah's dirty laundry packed away with a smile on my face whenever they'd ask how we were doing, but I felt that the facade I displayed was soon going to be torn down. Vic knew me too well for this to go by without some sort of discussion.

Still, I tried my best to keep my walls up and finished putting together the eggnog, placing it in the fridge after covering it properly. I took a deep breath and tacked on a grin before turning to them. "Why don't we open presents?" I asked, hoping to ease the discomfort in the room. I watched my mom's face light up, and she nodded before making her way into the living room where the tree was.

"Liv..." Vic calls my name softly, and I can see the worry strewn across her face when I bring my attention to her. Eyebrows pulled together and lifted, hazel eyes soft as they searched mine for a snippet of what was in my head. I pressed my lips into a saddened smile and averted my gaze from hers, trailing behind my mom before she had a chance to say anything.

We all sat in front of the tree in our matching pajamas, something we always did no matter our age, and handed each other our appropriate gifts. As we tore off the gift wrap, balling it up and tossing it at one another like children, I was able to keep my worries at bay with the laughter that bubbled out of me. The doubts I had were buried deep in the crevices of my mind, forgotten about as I took in the moment for what it was.

I held one of Vic's now-opened gifts in my hands. It was a Homesick candle, the state it represented of course being Virginia. It smelled heavenly; notes of pine needle, fir, and sandalwood. Immediately I'm blanketed in the comforting warmth of childhood memories—my mom's soothing voice, my dad's embrace that I missed dearly, late-night adventures with Vic and Ricky. With a smile, I closed my eyes and inhaled the aroma one more time before putting the lid back on and thanking her. I already couldn't wait to go home and burn it.

Her second gift was less sentimental, but it made me laugh—it was so her. Inside the box sat a silver chain, laid across a card that read 'I'd Help You Bury The Body'. Looking at it closely, there were beads so small that they were nearly flush against the chain in what appeared to be no pattern in particular. However, according to the card, they were strung in a way that displayed the message in Morse code.

I smiled over at her after slipping it onto my wrist, being met with a shit-eating grin. She winked, and I immediately pulled her into a tight embrace. "I knew there was a reason that you're my best friend," I giggled, resting my chin on her shoulder. She squeezes me and slowly rocks us side to side, "Don't fucking forget it, Liv. Miles and time zones away, I'll still find a way to stab a bitch."

At that moment, I realized just how much I missed her. She had been there for me through the thick of it, always encouraging me to stand up for myself. And if I didn't? She had no problem biting someone's head off for me—or anyone, really. I could only imagine what she would have to say if she knew how rocky things have been with Noah lately.

She would, without a doubt, call him up and tell him to pull his head out of his ass amongst other not-so-nice things...but she would also yell at me for drinking because of it. I felt the tears well up just thinking about it. I blinked them away before pulling away from her and thanking her again, promptly handing over the presents I had for her so that the tears wouldn't find their way back.

I had a similar gift, though less vulgar, consisting of best friend necklaces; one adorned with the state of Virginia, the other California. She loved them, but the other gift really won her over, having her throw her head back with laughter. It was a basic T-shirt that read 'ADULT DAYCARE DIRECTOR A.K.A. The Bartender'.

"I took some time putting this together, and I think you'll really like it," Mom tells me as she hands me her gift, a bright smile on her face. I was taken back by the weight of the present, but I returned the smile as I began to tear off the wrapping paper. I soon realized the reason behind the weight—it was a photo album, and jam packed by the looks of it.

My heart swelled as I flipped through the years; there were photos of me as a baby all the way up to present day. My first steps, birthday parties, holidays—my favorite being the year I took the tree down while my dad hoisted me up to top it with the star. There were two pictures of that moment: one as I was stepping into Dad's hands, the other a blurry picture as the tree came crashing down.

I laughed and continued flipping through the album, only for my smile to falter as I reached photos of my wedding.

It truly was a beautiful day; it was everything that I dreamed of, and more. The venue was immaculate, brandished with maroon and notes of silver, the bridesmaids' dresses perfectly matched. The room was filled with bliss, everyone's smiles genuine and bright. I was marrying the man of my dreams, nothing but love and adoration in mine and Noah's eyes as we said 'I do'.

That was the best day of my life, and I felt like I was on top of the world, on Cloud 9. But now? I was falling through that cloud at light speed, and I didn't know how to stop it or slow it down. Things were not the same as they were that day, and I hated it. He no longer looked at me like that, he no longer made a conscious effort in our marriage—it took me breaking down and relapsing for him to notice I wasn't happy.

And even then, things would get better for such a short amount of time that it all felt fabricated, temporary. I was beginning to think that maybe this marriage was temporary, and that broke my fucking heart.

"Olivia, what's wrong?" My mom asks, moving the book and taking hold of my hands, giving them a firm squeeze. "Talk to me baby, why are you crying?" I hadn't realized I was crying until she asked. All I could do was shake my head, not knowing where to begin as the sobs rolled out of my mouth.

"I'm gonna have to beat his ass when he gets here, aren't I?" Vic says, trying to make light of the moment. I wanted to laugh and tell her that it wasn't that serious, but I was too distraught to even crack a smile. I shook my head 'no' and sucked in a choppy breath, trying my best to gather myself as she rubbed circles in my back.

After a few minutes of breathing deeply, I ran my sleeve under my eyes and my nose with a sniffle. "Things just haven't been the best lately," I croaked, my throat raw from how hard I was crying. "What do you mean?" Mom asks gently, taking hold of one of my hands again with a squeeze. "I just feel so alone, so insignificant," I whispered, closing my eyes as tears started to burn them again. "It's all about the music." "Oh, honey," she coos, rubbing my shoulder. "I know it seems that way, but you know that's not true. That man loves you with all his heart."

My lips trembled, once again shaking my head. It sure as Hell didn't feel that way from all the excuses he spewed whenever I voiced my concerns.

"Then why did he take his wedding ring off, mom?" I whimpered, tears rolling down my cheeks. "I found it tucked in my shit when I got back from being on tour with him for a week. And have you noticed the glove on his left hand?" I laughed incredulously when she said she hadn't. "I sure did."

There was a weight in my chest that only got heavier and heavier as they remained silent. Soon enough, that weight pulled my heart straight to the pit of my stomach, churning as the uncertainty of this marriage sank in. The thought of leaving him to never return home, the home that we made our own, made me so sick to my stomach...but maybe it would be easier than hoping things would go back to the way they were.

I woke up to the feeling of the comforter being lifted from my body, the chill in the air caressing my shoulder. I kept my eyes shut while the mattress dipped as someone joined me and placed the blanket back where it belonged. I knew it was Noah as he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against him, kissing my forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispers, followed by a huff as he settles into the mattress. "Me too," I whispered back, still waking up. He rubbed my back, and I relished the warmth that spread from it. "For what, love?"

For doubting that you'd be here, for being an emotional wreck, for drinking.

I sniffled, the remorse heavy and bringing tears to my eyes. "Everything," I struggled to say, trying to hold back a sob. "I told you I'd be here, Liv," he reassures me gently. Another pang of regret hits my chest, "I know, I'm sorry." He moves his hand to my head, running it down the length of my hair, and a comforting tingle runs down my spine. “Shh, enough of that. I’m here now, and we’re still going to celebrate Christmas, even if I’m a day late. Okay?” I nodded against his chest. “Would you like to open your present now? I have it here with me.”

I don't say anything, mulling over his question. He'd have to turn on the light, and he'd know right away that I had not only been crying, but drinking, too.

He huffs and kisses me on my forehead again before getting out of bed and turning the bedside light on. I immediately grimaced from the brightness, a dull ache forming behind my eyes. I rubbed one of my eyes to ease the pain as he turned with my gift in hand, and I watched his face fall when he took a good look at me. I know he knows I've been drinking.

Still, his lips curled up at the corners in a saddened smile as he took a seat, and he held out what appeared to be a wrapped picture frame. I take his gift, giggling at how shitty his wrapping skills still were after three years of trying to teach him how to properly do it.

I sat up before tearing off the paper, my eyes landing on two navy blue hearts, speckled with stars. I gasped, the title reading 'The Night Sky', followed by the dates of our engagement and wedding underneath their corresponding heart. It displayed how the stars aligned at those very moments, and it was beautiful—it filled me with happiness, with validation.

Yet I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my face from this rush of guilt I felt due to the doubt I still had. Sure, this was a genuine, sentimental gift, but did it make up for all the forgotten dates and lonely nights?

My chin hits my chest as I crumple forward, sobbing, and Noah takes the gift from my hands before scooping me into his arms. I shoved my head against his chest, clinging onto his shirt, and held him against me while he let me cry.

"Olivia, please," he tries, rubbing my back. "What's going on?" He sways us back and forth gently, but I don't say anything. I can't, I didn't know how. "I-I'm sorry if my gift wasn't what you wanted—" "No," I cut him off when I hear the worry in his voice, and look at him through tear filled eyes. "I-it's everything that I wanted." It wasn't a lie; it was what I wanted, but I couldn't help the uncertainty that I still felt.

"I'm not understanding, Olivia," he says, shaking his head in confusion and holds my face between his hands. "What's got you so upset, then?" He brushes away the tears that fell from my eyes. "I'm scared," I say, my voice quivering. He scrunches his brows, still confused. "Scared of what?"

That this marriage is failing, that things won't go back to the way they were. That I'm losing you.

His eyes darkened with sorrow, bouncing back and forth between mine as he searches for an answer. I couldn't stand the anguish strewn across his face and closed my eyes, letting out a cry from how much it hurt me to admit these things.

Noah whispers my name, and I'm met with the same agonizing stare from him when I open my eyes. "What are you scared of, love?" I open my mouth to speak, but the words don't come out. My throat is dry, my heart is pounding in my chest, and all I can do is continue to look at the distraught expression on my husband's face when I finally say 'Us'.

His eyes gloss over, and it was like I punched him in the chest from the gasp he took. For the second time, I broke his heart. And I hated myself for it, but it needed to be said.

"W-what do you mean, 'us', Liv?" His voice shakes, and I know he's trying to keep his composure. "Look at us, Noah," I choked out. "Have things been okay between us? And don't say yes, because you know that that's not true." His lips parted, but he doesn't say anything. "You were barely home before tour, you constantly forgot about our dates, our anniversary dinner. It was like I didn't even matter to you! And then the ring?" I croaked on the last sentence, my throat burning from trying not to cry. "I-I didn't mean for those things to happen, Liv. And I swear to you, I only wanted the ring to be safe," he tries to reason with me. "I wasn't thinking when I put it in your bag." I shook my head in his hands, "I'm sorry, Noah, but I... I don't believe you." I squeezed my eyes shut; I couldn't bear seeing the despair on his face.

He presses his lips on my forehead, and he lets out a sob as he kisses me, feeling the warmth of his breath ghost over my skin. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Olivia," he whimpers, his mouth still against my forehead. “Please let me fix this. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes. I-I can’t lose you.” His voice cracks, and he rests his forehead against mine. I wrapped my hands around his wrists, holding myself up as I wailed in front of him. I could feel his pulse against my thumbs, pounding with anxiety induced adrenaline, and it made me cry even harder. I knew I was tearing him apart, which in turn was tearing me apart, too.

“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, Noah. I can’t handle another broken promise.”

|Chapter 13|

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #fanfic writing #romance #fantasy #hanahaki disease #noah sebastian fanfic #quandary #sequel

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kaitlynpcallmebeepme · 2 years

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Two hearts beat as one

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Idea: Spencer x reader friends to lovers based the idea off of a blurb from @rintsuru where Reid shows the reader a magic trick where he writes something on a card and shows it to the rest of the team (they know he likes you) and shuffles the deck and pulls out not their cards and then says something like its behind your ear and then that's when the reader pulls the card out and reads will you go on a date with me. Reid frames that card in glass later.

Add a part where spencer just loves how she thinks of random things, after she gets shown the card and answers she says, you know the doctor had 2 hearts, how do you think cpr would work on him

Requested: Nope. @halloween-is-my-nationality This was the Spencer idea I had that I said I would write.

Author’s Note: Ok, 12 hour night shifts aren’t terrible, for me at least. It’s just bad when I either have not gotten sleep the night before or I have to do something the morning I get off. I’m currently 7 hrs after getting off my night shift and I’m not tired enough to go to sleep, so I finished this (which I also started on my bored night shift last night). I’m going to try to sleep after this. I made the perspective Spencer’s in the first person for the most part. I couldn’t resize the card picture. Requests are still open. Feedback is always appreciated. Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new.

Warning: Just some cuteness, card magic, Doctor Who references, and Morgan being the big brother that Spencer needs.

Word Count: 1,351

“You can’t just keep staring at her forever pretty boy.” There goes Morgan again teasing me about my very obvious, but still trying to hide it, crush on my co-worker and team member.

“I’m not staring. I’m silently observing and you were staring at her first, I just followed your line of sight.”

“But I haven’t kept staring at her for 3 minutes.”

“2 minutes 47 seconds. You’ve been staring at her for 23 seconds.”

“Just ask her out pretty boy. You got some game to you.”

“The last time you tried this with me it was really awkward, we were on a case, and in a loud bar. My brain was distracted with too many things that time.”

“It’s definitely distracted now.” I hate to admit when he’s right. She’s the only person who can make me lose my train of thought if she’s speaking or just listening to me.

“Ok well if this is so interesting to you instead of all of the other women throwing themselves on you, then at least try to be helpful.” I couldn’t stand Morgan’s teasing much more. Yes, we hung out every weekend and watched some nerdy show or movie. So what. Garcia has seen most of them already and Y/n’s the only other person in this building who will watch any of that genre in general, much less with me. She’s just perfect, from the way she’ll read Harry Potter at her desk or has Supernatural and Sherlock stickers on her laptop and will trace them with her fingers every so often.

“Hey, I'm trying to help my brother ask out his future wife.”

“And you’re jumping from step negative 10 to 8 of relationships. I start on the scale at a negative 20. Work with me.”

“If you are not going to ask her out, there has to be reasoning behind the hesitation. You only ever do things when the odds are in your favor.” That was one thing Morgan was right on. There was a lot of hesitation. No one’s ever liked me that way, liked or put up with my rambles, and wanted to stick around for the stressful and dangerous career I chose.

“I just don’t want her to not like me then leave like those who left before.”

“I guarantee you that won’t happen. You guys hang out every break we get, she’s met your mom, always sits next to you on plane rides, plays with your hair when you don’t notice, knows to grab you lunch and take care of you when you won’t take care of yourself, and if we could, you two would be sleeping in the same room on cases.” What a list Morgan. You’ve been keeping tabs on us.

“Hotch would probably make us have ground rules to keep professionalism so the department doesn’t separate us off the team.”

“So you do want there to be an ‘us’?” Morgan’s teasing tone is so annoying. But I have to admit he’s right. I want to wake her up to breakfast in bed and read to her until she falls asleep next to me.

“I just don’t want to lose her either way.”

“I get that. It’s the fear that’s holding you back. Fear of if it’s worth it to not have that happiness but still have her in your life. But, from what I can see, the way she look at you, always asks about how you’re doing when I get a call from her on a case, the way she's the first person you ask anything to case related or not. You two were made for eachother. You aren’t going to find that magic in just anyone.”

That phrase hit me. I know now how to ask her out without saying anything and, if I’m honest with myself, it was one of the better ideas I’ve come up with.

"You know what I'm going to ask her right now." I opened my office desk drawer, grabbed two things, and marched off to her, avoiding the unnecessary stress from Morgan’s smirk. Having already finished her paperwork, she was reading Goblet of Fire at her desk, but her attention turned to me as I went up to her desk.

"What's with the cards Spence? You have another magic trick to show me?"

Ok Spencer, now or never.

"Yes, and so you don't have to memorize the card number I'm going to write on this one and this will be your card." I took out the marker I had brought with me and wrote on one of the cards.

"Are you sure Spence? Wouldn't that be ruining a good deck of cards?"

"It's fine. Now." I flipped the card with the note on it over so only the back showed and she didn’t see the message. I could start to see the team at least gazing in our direction wondering what was going on. I turned back to her because I wouldn’t be able to finish this if I was focusing on the team. I placed the card in the middle of the deck. "These are going to get shuffled by you." She grabbed the deck, split it in two, shuffled it three times, and handed it back. Counting strategically I moved a couple more cards out of the deck that I knew weren't hers. I placed one card in front of her. "Flip that card over and see if that's it." She picked it up and, not surprisingly, it wasn't her card. I flicked through the backs of a couple more cards deleting some from the counting. I handed her another card. "Is that your card?"

She flips that card over. "No. Spencer are you sure you're doing this right?"

"Yes I am. Ok, one more try." I pay close attention to cards as their stiff corners flip through my fingers. I pull out the last card, my nerves rising as I pushed it across the table to her. "That's your card." I said with the most amount of confidence I could mustard up at the moment.

She picks it up, and her eyes widen.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes. I would love to go out with you Spencer Reid."

She smiled as she held the card. I was just cherishing that this moment went so well for how little time I planned it.

"Did you pick the two of hearts because of our two hearts or because the Doctor has two hearts and we both love Doctor Who?"

"Mainly for the two of us and that couple saying 'two hearts beat as one'."

"How do you think CPR would work on the Doctor since he has two hearts?" That was a question I wasn’t expecting after this. Back to our nerdy-selves.

"Well they showed that in the 2005 version Season 3 episode 1 where Martha performed CPR on the Doctor. Although it was inaccurate CPR as she did 5 compressions per breath where as it's supposed to be 30 compressions then two breaths, and the doctor was suffering from blood loss as well as hypoxia, so compressions and breaths alone would have done little to help without a transfusion or a fluid bolus, but I think it would still work as long as the compressions are helping to pump both of his hearts. However, I sus- *kiss*."

I did not expect her to kiss me that quickly. It was only a quick kiss as she also knows I’m not someone who shows big signs of PDA, especially in the work place, but I’d let her kiss me any time.

"And that's why I love you Spencer Reid."

I could care less about the fact that the rest of the BAU could see us, or that Morgan was probably about to clap me on the back, or Penelope filming this whole interaction right now. I found my other half. She kissed me again, longer and deeper this time, and then took the playing card. "This is getting framed, so you'll be down one card babe."

"That's ok. I don't think Jack and Henry will mind."

#criminal minds imagine #criminal minds masterlist #Criminal Minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds family #bau #BAU Family #spencer reid imagine

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deathsconsort · 3 months

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so i finished...

i'm even more convinced than i was before about my theory with nesta and the dusk court

' “poor nesta’s been in the doghouse since you took their weapons and dumped us here,” ember explained. ' yeah i'm still not a fan of rhys no surprise there

nesta and ember bonding and having a moment. ember putting her hand on her cheek and telling her she'll find her way??

ember on the verge of crying when she's saying goodbye to nesta and telling her this time was a gift and she's so glad to have met her???

"she pulled nesta to her in a tight embrace, and bryce could have sworn something like pain and longing crossed nesta’s expression. like she hadn’t experienced a mom-hug for a long, long time. so Bryce gave the female some privacy to enjoy every second of that motherly embrace" WHEN I TELL YOU I WAS A MESS

randall clapping nesta on the shoulder with fatherly affection?!?!?! GOD

cassian and randall must've bonded enough to call each other friends and wanting to see each other again

and bryce giving nesta the starsword/gwydion and wanting her to find out how the eight pointed star relates to her?!?! AHHHH

' and cassian, like any good mate, sensed when he wasn’t wanted, and walked over to the fireplace to pretend to read some sort of old-looking manuscript. bryce knew that, also like any good mate, if she made one wrong move, he’d rip her to shreds. which was precisely why hunt had come back into the room, and was watching nesta carefully. “alphaholes,” nesta echoed, eyes gleaming with amusement. ' !!!!! i need more cassian without rhys bc i don't like how he is when he is around that man tbh rjgnrj but that's another rant for a different time

also she's definitely going to start calling these fae alphaholes thanks to bryce. ugh i love her and bryce together and i wish they couldn't gotten even more time together.

i'm just so happy for her and happy that nesta had people in her corner who came to love and appreciate her when that's normally not the case. these are the type of ppl nesta needs around her. and i'm really glad that it was cassian there with her and not the other ic members bc she deserved that happy moment without them ruining the moment.

and these are just some more moments about nesta that i really enjoyed but i didn't want to flood the dash while they were happening so i'm going to list them here...

nesta seems to more control over her powers now and isn't afraid of using them

still is described as more than just a fae. and is also described as a feline a lot i noticed.

the carvings were feeding my small theory about nesta becoming high queen but like i may be delulu but w/e it's a fun thought. and i do actually have a verse for this that i added after silver flames came out!!

nesta and the mask….az listing off all the ppl she cares about; cass, gwyn, emerie, feyre, elain, and nyx. azriel catching her and bringing her to his chest and stroking her hair, thanking the mother. azriel staying close to nesta not wanting to be farther than he could grab.

we already knew nesta could wield the dread trove to her whereever it's stored. but she was also making the mask vanish back to that place so she has powers besides the death powers??

nesta trying to comfort bryce

bryce noting nesta is the apex predator between the three of them ( az and bryce and nesta )

“nesta had distracted her enough that her focus had slipped and azriel had vanished. they’d worked in silent perfect tandem.” az and nesta work well together and makes me wonder if they've partnered up for missions previously and if these two are the go-to duo when s/t needs to get done. there were also moments of them being back to back when fighting so they seem to have a partner thing going on

nesta fucking killing an asteri/daglan like hell yes THAT'S MY GIRL!!!

bryce telling the autumn king “i know a female who could wipe your sorry ass from existence and not break a sweat” referring to nesta!!!

bryce notes that it was possible nesta pulled her punches

‘even with a portal between them, the ground seemed to shudder at the female’s power’ nesta is still powerful af

#ooc #cc3 spoilers #i love being a nesta girlie i'm thriving rn

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luckyshotwrites · 1 year

Text

Ch. 61 // Gust Front // Day 48

Contents (Warnings): The wedding day approaches (Angsty, vore mentions, and character/monster info). Read full chapter on - A03

Wordcount: 3,345

Side note: This will contain experimental writing; first person (Lynette's view) will be implemented alongside third person for the two other essential characters, (mostly) Alexander and (occasionally) Drake. All their text will be italicized for those third-person moments, with the characters' names in Bold at the start and their thoughts in Bold. There may be other characters I write for using this.

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(Nov. 10th, Thursday)

There are a lot of girls I've never met here. They were of different sizes and shapes, Charletta had seven other bridesmaids, excluding Wenna. And I was the maid of honor.

I was given the rundown at dinner yesterday, what I should be doing, and how I should direct all of the other bridesmaids, but it was a scary feeling being in charge with prying eyes on me. I didn't know who was safe, what they were, and whether I did everything right. It also reminded me of the lie I'd have to pull off with the others.

"Mom and Dad both agreed, we are telling everyone you're a magus tomorrow if they ask, so play along," Charletta said. She had her checklist in hand. She looked over it one more time before handing it to me.

"Is that a good idea?" I asked, not looking at the list yet. I know next to nothing about magic.

Charletta smiled, "I think it's much safer for everyone to assume you're a magus as they do now." She stretched her arms up, "moreover, most magus's can hide their energy and magic from monsters or other magus's. So they'll assume you're powerful."

"When I'm not."

"You may not be powerful in magic, but I admire plenty of other qualities about you." Charletta glanced back and put her hands on her hips.

What could you admire about me? The question didn't leave my head, "I get it. Wicks and you are much cooler though." I pushed a smile.

Charletta giggled with the excitable brightness in her eyes, "shush up, Lyn." She pressed playfully at my shoulder, and I took it.

"Lynette!" Wenna chirped, her eyes lit up as she entered the dressing room. I finished my Rapunzel braid.

She quickly jogged up to me. She circled me like an excited dog. I tried to keep up with her. Wenna swiftly got behind me and put her delicate hands on my shoulders. I lightly squeaked. She made me face the mirror, "THIS," she picked up my braid, "braid is so cute!"

I could see the worry on my face, more evident than her smile in the mirror. I exhaled, "t-thanks."

She let go and chuckled, "don't worry, I won't bite." She flashed her fangs, "I know when a magus has me beat."

Her giggle was far too on the nose. I felt comfortable around Wenna, because she didn't eye me like the others did.

I noticed another approaching us from the array of mirrors. I glanced back.

"Hello, Wenna, Lynette." The proper vocals shook hands with my ears. I scanned over the well-dressed female. Even though it was a casual rehearsal, she wore a gray business suit with a unique collar that showed off her white button-up. "Should we start heading to the main wed hall?"

"Hi, Koianada-"

"Koi is fine,"

"Koi," I nodded, then patted over my jeans pockets. I pulled out my phone and checked over the family group chat. "They are doing their final run with the coordinator. Charletta will meet with us when we can go." I replied, looking up from my phone.

Koi gave a bob of her head, "right." She glanced up at a few of her bangs that escaped the bobby pins. She turned to the mirrors.

"I don't think I witnessed you during the marked game yesterday," the white-haired girl said.

What do I say to that? If I mentioned anything magic related, I'd sound like an idiot.

"Lynette would have beat us all if she played," Wenna covered me.

Play along. I thought to myself. "Wenna, you're embarrassing me." Even a simple comment like that hurt. I disliked lying. It only helped remind me that I wasn't candid with Wicks that night. I saw the frustration and anger festering in him when I talked at length about a few events. So, I refused to go into detail about all of them.

I don't want anyone to fight. I'm not worth the effort. From what I understand...you all have a lot more on your plate and you shouldn't worry about me.

I could feel the deep ache. I pinched at my arm. Stop it. It's okay. This is a break. Please. There was so much I didn't understand, wanted to ask questions about, and...overall, I felt apart from it all.

"HEY, EVERYONE, LET'S GET GOING!!" Charletta popped her head into the dressing room, where the small groups were chit-chatting. I turned to head out and heard a voice beside me.

"You've got this, Lynette." Wenna patted my head. I held up a thumbs up.

...

We finished rehearsal. I couldn't believe so many new faces came to talk to me. I'd never remember them all.

I needed a breather. I stepped back and leaned on the wall. Wicks squinted at me and gestured back to the group he was part of.

I shook my head. I put my two palms together, then pressed the back of my left hand to my face and made a 'sleep' gesture.

"Hey, Lynette."

I shifted my body to the cyan-haired male, "hi, Ace." I matched his friendly smile.

"Are you taking a break? I saw you rushing around earlier." He said with a slight chuckle.

"Yeah..." We went over everything quicker than they expected, so we had to wait a little longer before we headed out to the dinner. I know there were plenty of other things I should have done, but my family handled a lot of this. I'm trying to make up for it now, though. "I wasn't really doing much."

"Nonsense," Ace said, "I can tell you are dedicated to the part for your sister. It's honorable." He looked above at the marble statues, beautiful fake trees with white leaves, and the chairs along the white-carpeted aisle. "I think this is a nice place for a wedding. The upstairs has such a pretty view of the garden too."

I nodded, "it is." I looked at Charletta as she joked with a few girls and guys next to Ulysses. "I'm glad I get to see her at her happiest." I could feel my eyes watering. No, not in front of a stranger!

He ran his hand through his slicked-back hair and attempted to study my turned-away face. "I bet you'd look amazing at your happiest too."

ME?! I couldn't even fathom anything like that. I had no one in my life romantically. I couldn't even go on dates. I chickened out whenever I was invited. I will never get over throwing up on Kyle. His name was ingrained in my head after my first and only date.

"You too," I replied. I didn't know what to say in response. My gaze brushed Ace's cool, ice one, then drifted to the blush at his cheeks.

Wait, did he say amazing? Me...oh... I felt the queasiness.

He changed the subject after our eyes intertwined. "So, Lynette, what do you do for fun outside of magic?"

"Uh, I read and play video games occasionally too." I feel like I haven't had much time for either of those. "I do rock climbing with Wicks sometimes on my weekends too."

His thin lips uplifted with a curl, enthralled by the mention. "Rock climbing? We should go some time. I know a place nearby. We could ask Wicks, Charletta, and Ulysses to tag along."

My raised chest deflated with relief. His tender reassurance calmed me. I was glad he included them in his invitation. I agreed, and our conversation continued.

A tick in the back of my mind reminded me that Ace still had to be some sort of monster, but his niceness and interest reminded me of June. He was less bubbly. However, nonetheless, he was the ease I needed right now. I hated to think that Ace, a total stranger, was someone I felt more relief from now than my family.

...

Drake

He was the barrier between Wicks and Alexander. He sat in the seat between them and could feel the burning gaze from the magus on his right.

I am willing to bet Lynette told him EVERYTHING. The thought then occurred to him, and his eyes slipped to his new sister-in-law, at least starting tomorrow.

That means I'm on the hit list next. Drake slumped in his chair. He hadn't worn a hoodie today. His mom and dad would tear into him if he dressed too informally. He at least put his hair back comfortably over his face. His right hand under the table fidgeted with the white table cover, and he looked over the fancy, shimmering silverware. Each looked freshly cleaned and sharpened, or new. This place is nice.

His ears started to pick up the conversation between Ace and Lynette. He was complimenting her quite a bit. Maybe Lynette reminds him of Charletta? Or perhaps she said something that really enraptured him? He questioned the thought. Is Lynette really the romantic type? She acts far too timid most of the time, compared to Charletta... Drake exhaled aloud. In that competition, she was a menace.

"You looked nice with your hair back earlier, Drake."

He perked up at the sudden compliment. He figured it was because his head was turned in her direction even though he was really looking past her out the window to the street. I did not.

"It wasn't my choice." He brushed over the bangs over his eyes.

"You do clean up nicely, Drake. You should work on being presentable more often." Koi then gestured to Alexander, who sat on her left in between her and Drake. "Just as Alexander should stop wearing that scowl, he'd look more attractive without it."

"Bite me," Alexander grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

"I already regret it the first time, do not remind me of the horrendous flavor you hybrids possess," She uttered.

He squinted at her, finally taking his eyes from Wicks. Drake shivered, "why do you have to remind me of that, Koi."

"I thought you only bit humans...?" Lynette questioned Drake.

He could tell by the sudden quickness of her heart's change. She didn't mean to say that allowed.

Alexander rubbed at his arm, "he used cheap tricks to try and beat my ass in a fight."

WHAT? Drake cocked his head in his Best friend's direction. "You're just mad. I almost beat you without magic."

"ALMOST beat me? I was going easy on you."

His shoulders rose, "you're lying."

"You think I wanted to hurt you. If I did-"

Ace butt in before they could get too wild. "Hey, since you guys are a little magic enthusiastic. I was thinking we can have a training session tomorrow, to test our skills? Maybe give each other pointers?"

Wicks chuckled, "oh? That sounds like a great idea." His hazel hue locked onto Alexander, "I think I'd love to give you guys some pointers."

"Hell no."

Wicks inched forward over the table, over the empty plate. "Are you saying your scared?"

The blonde stared directly at him, "scared of your ass? No."

You're lying. You're definitely worried.

"I can already tell we don't have the same specializations. It'd be stupid to "train" together." Alexander knew what Wicks wanted. The other two at the table were confused about the whole situation as to why Wicks looked excited to destroy him.

This whole Lynette's a magus lie... His hue fell on the prim female. If Koi pays too close attention to how Alexander looks at her, she'll know we're lying.

"What about you, Lynette? Maybe you can help Alexander?" Ace suggested.

Lynette, who was mid-drinking water, lurched forward. She almost spit it up. She quickly swallowed and put her cup down.

Drake saw Alexander's mouth open, and he pressed his claws to extend on his fingertips. "If only she-" He quickly jabbed his two fingers into Alexander's side. It stopped him mid-sentence. He didn't break his skin or anything. It felt like he ran into a metal wall with them.

Alexander's vision darted to Drake. The person to Drake's side caught it first. The vampire beast knew not only was Wicks P.O.ed but that Alexander might have said something to spill the secret. He was also riled up by the fact that Alexander would have most likely commented about Lynette's unwillingness to let herself get eaten by him.

Alexander sat back and crossed his arms. The two awaited his response. "If only she wasn't as annoying as her brother." He shot a gaze back to Wicks.

The male with the ponytail laughed, "you didn't just call my sister annoying."

They looked ready to both throwdown here. "And what if I did, fucker?"

"Maybe a training session is not a good idea," Ace muttered.

"Not at all," Koi said.

Lynette tapped the table in front of her, "please!" They both turned their gaze to her. "I don't think Ulysses or Charletta want a fight a day before their wedding."

Drake glanced at the two, and they both stopped their heavy gazes. Lynette hit them both with the people they respected and cared for. Or at least Drake knew Alexander respected Ulysses and would protect him the same as everyone else. He figured Wicks was the same, especially with how protective he was over Lynette.

It was not long after the toast from the event host, Drake's dad.

Edgar stood up from the bride, groom, and parents table after getting everyone's attention with the classic glass TING TING TING.

He cleared his throat before speaking, "as I look around this room, it warms my heart to see all of the love in here that people have for dear Charletta and Ulysses." Edgar surveyed everyone, a charming smile on his face.

"If you have been to a wedding before, you know it takes a lot of hard work and planning. It truly is a group effort, and this rehearsal is the last thing on the to-do list before the big day." There was a slight cord fluctuation in his voice. He kept himself together.

"I know Charletta and Ulysses are so happy and grateful to have you all here, and I am so lucky to meet and eat with all of you." The parents had been table hopping. They sprang around this disaster table earlier.

Drake hadn't gotten to engage a lot with Lynette's side of the family, not that he felt like he should. Mainly since he stuck around the problem. His eyes went to Alexander.

After the small speech with his brother, thanking everyone received their food and started to eat.

That was when he heard his mom's voice beside him. "Drake, Alexander." She warmly rubbed at their shoulders, "how are my favorite boys doing!" She gave Alexander a kiss first on his forehead.

Then she leaned over to Drake, brushed his hair away, and did the same to him.

"Are you drinking enough," she asked him, studying his drink.

"Yeah, mom," Drake replied. He saw her inspecting more at his face.

"You look so much paler. Are you sure?"

Drake pulled away lightly. "I'm fine." He grew embarrassed as the others looked at him.

His mom popped up and bowed to the others, "hey, Ace and...oh! Yes, this is where Edgar said where you were. Ulysses and Charletta wanted to talk to you both."

Ace raised a brow, "me?"

Koi got up without much hesitation, "we should see them."

They both got up, leaving the table. Drake's mom made her way over to Wicks and Lynette.

She happily spoke, "I am so glad you both look like you're having a wonderful time. Hopefully, my boy are making it fun for the two of you."

Wicks half smiled, "fun is the word I'd use."

Lynette agreed, "fun is a word."

You can tell Wicks hates us, right? Drake thought to himself.

"He doesn't hate you," his mom replied aloud.

Wicks raised a brow, "whose thoughts did you read."

His mom held her mouth, "oh, apologies. Sorry, Drake happens to think a lot in his head, and I've gotten used to reading them" She looked back at him and went to hug him. He sat there and took it. His body trembled. And her thoughts went back to him. "Don't worry, I'm sure Wicks doesn't hate you for your mess up during the festival. It's a good thing Lynette understands-."

She released him once he stood up in her grasp. He put his cup down on the table gently. He turned to her, "I'm going to the bathroom."

"Drakie," she said, but he refused to turn back and face her. He heard the other chair push out too. Alexander told Danee bye and went after Drake. He tried to calm his temperament and hold his thoughts as he left. He ignored Alexander, who came beside him.

"You're not walking back," Alexander said to him.

Drake continued to walk around the corner and into the main dining hall instead of their closed-off sections. He didn't respond. For some reason, the lights irritated him, even though the place itself was darker than most restaurants.

"Drake," Alexander tried to grab his arm before they made it outside. Drake avoided it and pushed out. The air felt chiller than the previous nights. And the slight breeze pushed away the repetitive calls of his name.

Alexander, this time didn't give up. "HEY, ASSHOLE."

Drake stopped and whipped around, "YOU DON'T HAVE TO FOLLOW ME. I DON'T NEED YOUR PROTECTION." His lip raised and his fangs became more apparent. "I'M TAKING A BREAK."

"You think that's why-" Alexander groaned and pressed up his glasses, "I don't want you doing something stupid like walking back to the house because she loves you."

ME? Drake laughed aloud and threw away the last part, "are you serious? You think I'd do something stupid?" He shook his head and nodded up at him "You're the one that doesn't think before you open your damn mouth!"

Alexander narrowed his gaze, but Drake didn't hear it. Why doesn't his heart sound angry... What Drake heard instead was pained.

It momentarily distracted him. Alexander grabbed his hips seeing the time to strike. Drake instinctually went to loop his arm over and twist Alexander's head away.

"Stop it fucker; we're going back now." Alexander fought to keep his head in place. He lifted Drake from the concrete and the few people that walked the streets didn't seem to care.

"YOU AREN'T CARRYING ME BACK!" He snapped back.

"THEN HEAD INSIDE ONCE I DROP YOUR ASS." They let go simultaneously. Drake caught himself, and Alexander's eyes glued themselves to him.

I basically called you stupid. Drake thought. He looked back at the restaurant and then at Alexander, who waited for him to move. He took a breath and walked toward the doors again. "Sorry."

"You better be. You're literal instinct was to try and snap my fucking neck." Alexander said. He rubbed it.

It's not like I could from that position nor do I have enough strength when you link you and your wendigo form.

He looked at his hand for a moment before putting it back in his pocket. He weakly picked up a smile, "Like I could snap your fat neck."

Alexander grinned. "Say that shit again, and I'll pick you up by your fucking legs and drag you back in there." There was the annoyed jokiness.

Alexander held the door open for him.

Drake scoffed, "like I'd let you grab me again. I'll knock you to the floor."

A hearty chuckle left Alexander's lips, " that happened once."

"seven times," Drake corrected, only to hear the playful groan behind him.

Shame fell upon Drake after. He had been so caught up, he didn't realize why it bothered Alexander so much until now. You're wrong, Alexander. Everyone loves those that are strong like you. Not someone like me.

...

Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. It means a lot that I put out a story that people can enjoy! So, I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable).

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