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#still not back just... had this in mind and had to gif if lol
hxney-lemcn · 2 days
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Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader
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summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.
tw: none that I can think of.
a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3
wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)
Master List
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You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.
Riddle Rosehearts
Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).
Leona Kingscholar
…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well…not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his. 
Azul Ashengrotto
Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.
Kalim Al-Asim
He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).
Vil Schoenheit
Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.
Idia Shroud
Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.
Malleus Draconia
Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.
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cupcakeinat0r · 1 day
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Your loser, Middle-aged Genetics professor with a dadbod <3
pt. 6
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The semester is almost over, and finals are just around the corner. Miguel and you had been tutoring students for test prep. Your help was greatly appreciated by Miguel, cutting his work basically in half, and he sees that you were good at it, too. It seems that paying attention in his class the whole year paid off. Granted, Miguel was fine as hell, so you never wanted to miss class.
You had to be honest, though, when you volunteered yourself to be Miguel’s little TA, you didn’t think it’d be this difficult. Is this what Miguel went through? For five years? Damn. Poor baby probably hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since he started this job. You didn’t know how he did it, and it’s only been your third day of tutoring. 
Not to mention that some students were, and you hate to admit it… incompetent. There were moments where you had to refrain from making certain faces toward students who acted like they hadn’t been to a single class of Miguel’s. But because you were so kind and patient, you sat with those few and made sure they left that hour feeling prepared for their final. Now you understood why Miguel’s temper was a bit short. Yours would be too if you had to deal with students who never put in any effort. Of course, some classmates also knew as much as you did, only needing the sessions for review.
Aside from tutoring, you and Miguel’s relationship was evolving. Your heated kiss in the lecture hall has been on Miguel’s mind non-stop, replaying the scene over and over again as a bedtime story for the past week. He couldn’t believe that his dreams were coming true. You had him whipped. That one kiss was what broke the dam, and now, Miguel was unleashing kisses on you. He’d sneak one in at every opportunity he had. Every little interaction would go something like this:
Say you were on your way to a session with a classmate, it’s early in the morning, the hall is empty, and no one is around other than Miguel who you consequently pass by as he leaves his private office. The scowl on his face immediately softens when he sees you, all done up pretty like always.
“Good morning, beautiful.” He still sounds as if he’s just woken up, his velvety timbre filling the quiet hall. It felt like you were Juliet and he was Romeo, forbidden lovers meeting in secret.
“Oh! Professor O’Hara-“A small squeal leaves your lips when he pulls you into his embrace, his brawny arms enveloping you completely. You giggle into his chest, your hands snaking up his soft belly and around toward his back, where they almost touch. “Calmate, mama, no one’s around,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a sweet kiss there. You breathe in and smell a manly musk from the fabric of his turtleneck. You had to lift your head from his chest or else Miguel would not stop kissing you all over. It was like there was no ‘off’ button, there was only ‘on’ when it came to you,
“Miguel, I’m already running late, they’re waiting for me!” You loudly whisper, only half-trying to push him away since he felt so warm and soft, but you really did need to go.
“Lo siento, mamita, but how can I resist when you look like this? Can you blame a guy?” He steps back and raises your hand to twirl you like a princess. You smiled bashfully, your cheeks going red. He was so corny and he knew it, slightly cringing at his own effort to be “cool”. It made you laugh because he would NEVER act this way in front of anyone. Anyone except you. He smiled, laughed, and made cheesy remarks only for you. God, you needed this grumpy dork. 
“Migggg, stop it, I really need to go!” You softly laugh, covering your cheesy smile.
“Nunca, preciosa,” His voice is low when he pulls you back in, “But alright… how ‘bout a kiss before you go?” and with a smile, you get on your tip toes, and Miguel lifts you into a tender kiss, and when he kisses you, he breathes you in. It’s like you’re his life supply when he kisses you.
Just when you thought the kiss was over and you were about to be on your way, he didn’t let go of your hand. You look back, and you’re met with those damned puppy dog eyes, “Wait, one more? Please?” He was so pathetic, but how could you tell him no? Of course, you wouldn’t, so you come back and give him another deep kiss.
Once you two pull away, his forehead remains on yours and he whispers, “Otra mas? Porfa?” He coos. “I thought you said one more?” You teased his adorable pleading, but you took his chin with both hands and kissed him anyway. 
Two more kisses turned to three, four, five, six… and Miguel wouldn’t stop; “One more?”, “Okay, now one more.”, “Another one.”, “Otro besito…”, “no, not yet, one more, one more”, “mkay, last one.”, “wait wait wait, one more…” and the two of you broke into soft laughs as he kept asking for more kisses, you slowly trying to pull away as you were passed late now. With each step back you took, Miguel would step closer, keeping your body against his with his bulky arms. The once silent hallway was now filled with quiet, giddy laughter as Miguel attacked you with pecks. There was something so innocent about it all, the harmony between your high-pitched giggles and his low chuckles, accompanied by the continuous smacking of his lips on yours in a peaceful, early morning within the high-ceiling school walls.
“Miguel O’Hara, please!” You snap at him, still in a whisper, but you both just laugh. “Okay, okay, fine,” he finally lets go of you, watching you leave with a content smile,” I’ll see you later? Don’t leave without passing by, please,” you smile back at the buff nerd and his concern for you. “I will! I promise!” You scurry down the hall to meet with the student who’s probably wondering where you’ve been. Miguel doesn’t step back into his office until you’re out of sight, his mind still a little foggy from the interaction. 
If someone had told him at the beginning of the year that the grad student who always showed up in the cutest outfits, sat front row, and always gave him the prettiest, lip glossed smile would requite his feelings, he would laugh at their face (or simply just stare menacingly at them, more like). When he chose to settle down and take this job, he would’ve never thought he’d find you. You were that something he didn’t know he needed.
<3 
   You might’ve bitten off more than you can chew. By fault of your sweet nature, you decided to take in a few extra students, which left you in the library hours later, your forehead on your forearm, a bit of drool pooling on the table, and snoring.  Miguel had been doing some tutoring as well, though, he finished earlier than you and started doing some other collegiate duties. It was unknown to him that you did this, so he thought it was strange when you didn’t come by for that long. He knew you wouldn’t have left without saying anything, so he began to grow worried as hours went by. He made his way down to the lecture hall, but there was no sign of you there. He immediately started thinking the worst, a million different horrid explanations running through his mind as he picked up his pace through the hallway.
His heart eased when he saw your sleeping form in the library, the only light coming from the aged lamps on each of the tables, but the relief is short-lived once he realizes how long you’ve been working and how tired you must’ve been to fall asleep sitting like that. Making sure to be quiet as there were still two or three other students there, Miguel walked towards you, faintly smiling at your snoring.  
“Mama… Mamita…” he whispers, nudging your back gently, waking you up. Your eyes, blinking continuously, adjust to the dim lighting of the library and you make out the large figure beside you. It’s your sweet, darling professor.
“Mph… huh?” you stretch your arms above your head, letting out a yawn, “Oh my God, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you say with a tired chuckle, your eyes still adjusting. 
“Mama, what are you apologizing for? Ugh, I should’ve come to check on you sooner.” He sat beside you, but then one of the students quickly hushed him, giving him a dirty look for interrupting their study sesh. He raised his hand mouthing ‘sorry’.  
"Did you need something?" you softly asked him, not wanting to be hushed as well, and he just replied by intertwining his long, girthy fingers with yours under the table where no one could see. "Nothing, mamita, however, I need you to go home. You weren’t supposed to stay so late.” He tuts, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles like he always did. He already didn’t like that you were tutoring on top of your own schoolwork, the only reason why he let you help in the first place being that you wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Oh, Miguel, always worrying about everyone but yourse-” You were cut off by another hush by the same irritated student. You both looked back at them, Miguel looking back with a scowl this time. He looked like he was about to say something, but you pulled away his attention with a sheepish smile, “Maybe we should go talk somewhere else.” You whisper. Taking your advice, he stood with you and followed you to a more private section of the library.
Settling in a small nook area where the two of you are surrounded by shelves of books, you sat on the floor, Miguel following shortly after. “So, care to explain why you’re still here?” He speaks while finding a comfortable position. 
You both lay against the shelf, your head tilted upward as you respond, “I just figured I could help a couple more students, is all. I guess it was after I finished with the last student and started studying for my other classes was when I knocked out.” Miguel lifts his arm so that he can wrap it around you, offering a cushion between you and the hardwood of the shelves. 
“Do you ever not study?” he raises a brow, but you’re quick to retaliate, “Do you ever not work?” You both chuckle. “Touché.”
“How do you do it?” you ask. 
“What do you mean?” You lay your head on his shoulder. “You basically run this entire department on your own. All I’ve done was tutor for a couple of days and look where that got me.”  Miguel chuckles at this. “I know sometimes it may not seem like it, but in all honesty, I love what I do, and you’ve gotta give yourself more credit than that, mama. You’ve truly been amazing, sweetheart. Always have been.”
“Well,” you snuggle into him a little more, relishing in his natural warmth that rivals the library’s cold air, “You helped.” Miguel returns the gesture by wrapping his arm tighter around you, sensing that you are becoming cold. “We helped each other, how ‘bout that.” you look up and smile at him, your cheek against the soft fabric of his cable-knit sweater (that fits juuust right on him). 
“Speaking of which, what’s this class you’re studying for?” you sit up straight and let out a tired sigh. “It’s another lecture,” you grab a hefty textbook from your bag beside you, letting Miguel take a look at it, “On top of creating a thesis, I have to memorize all of this.” He looks through his glasses that are hanging low on his nose and skims over the material.  
“How much of this have you memorized?” he still looks at the pages. “About half maybe.”
“Let’s fix that.” he sat up straight, positioning the book to where you can’t see its contents. “What’re you doing?” you’re suspicious of Miguel, knowing very well that he should be going home and not staying to help you study for a class that he didn’t even teach.
“I’m helping,” he clears his throat, “Which years did the ‘Modernist’ era in English literature begin and end? Please provide a short explanation of what catalyzed this period-” You ignore his question, attempting to take the book. “Miguel, you’ve done enough for today, you should be going home!” but he doesn’t let you have it.
“Mama, I just found you dead asleep while sitting up. You were gonna stay either way. I’d much rather be here so you don’t pass out again n’ make sure you get home safe. Please?” 
He’s literally the most perfect man ever. The person currently sitting in front of you just left his office doing whatever important task he usually occupies himself with to check up on you and is willing to stay here until you feel ready for your final. You’re convinced he’d do anything for you, and you’re right in thinking so. 
“Fine,” You’re beginning to realize how hard it actually is to say ‘no’ to Miguel, but you know Miguel was a bit of a pushover when it came to you as well, so you guess it’s alright, “But I feel like there should be some sort of incentive, though… some motivation.” you cheekily smile.
Miguel’s eyes shift above his lenses, intrigued by your proposition. “How ‘bout this. Every time I get something wrong… you get a kiss.” He chuckles. “Alright, and I’m guessing if you get it correct, then I should reward you with a kiss, right?” he says matter-of-factly, making you smile again. You were hoping he’d suggest something like this. 
He’d ask a question, you’d answer, and depending on if you got it right, Miguel would give you a kiss, or if you got it wrong, you “had” to give him a kiss (not much of a punishment, to be frank). You didn’t even wait for him to finish asking you a test question at times, you would just give him a tender kiss on the cheek just because. Some kisses, though, Miguel would get distracted, taking it from an innocent peck to a heated, handsy kiss, and reluctantly, you’d get him back on the task at hand. It got to the point where you ended up seated between his legs, and you'd start getting all these answers correct, so Miguel would plant kisses on your neck, sucking on the skin there. They would surely leave hickeys for the next day, but you didn’t care.
With your back against his hard chest and tummy, it was very hard to not delve into both of your fantasies. It was when Miguel began faintly bucking his hips against yours, his hardness expanding as he got blinded by lust again. "Miguel! Not here!” you'd whisper, and Miguel would groan in defeat. Trust, if you two weren’t in public, you would’ve let him do anything and everything he was thinking about doing to you.
That, having to stay quiet, and making sure no one was coming, it all made it feel like you were both teenagers again who were out later than they should be, laughing and shushing each other. 
The incentive being kisses actually worked in the sense that it kept you up, so not only was it an excuse to make out in the library, but it did technically help you memorize…
An hour or so passes by and you’ve gotten to the point where you know everything you need to for your final, but you didn’t want your time with Miguel to quite just end yet. You don’t know if it was the making out or what but you were suddenly wide awake now.
Miguel is about to test you on a topic one more time when he sees your eyes wandering the shelves, “You like to read, Mig? Just curious.” You look up at him. You were too tired to care whether or not you looked presentable enough for him, but he thought you looked absolutely adorable like this. Your hair lost its volume, your lip gloss was no longer shiny, and your mascara was a bit smudged from when you fell asleep earlier, but he found it so endearing. He wouldn’t have minded waking up to the sight every day for the rest of his life.
He closes the textbook, taking this as your way of ending the study session, “Yeah, I like it. I’ll read recreationally when I have the time.” He chuckled, looking at you like you were the only source of light on the planet. You shifted your head from where it rested against his arm and laid down on the floor, your head now resting against his soft stomach like a pillow. Your gaze focused on his hand that was now in yours. Your soft touch brushes against his more calloused, warm skin, playing with his fingers as you speak.
“What do you like to read? Fiction? Non-fiction? Give me details.” You continue to fiddle with his fingers. 
He starts to play with your hair with his free hand, moving any on your face, “Hm… I tend to gravitate toward non-fiction. You?"
"Anything romantic for sure," it doesn't take you even a second to answer, "Ever since I was a little girl, I always envisioned myself in those fairytale stories. Princesses, royal balls, a prince charming..." your eyes glanced up at him when you mentioned princes, and his smile grew.
"Oh, yeah?" He smirked, his brow raised. "Mhm. I kinda feel like I’m in one right now, actually.” His cheeks darken at this, licking his lips as he looks away to hide them. “Has anyone ever told you how handsome your smile is?” You add on, making him melt furthermore. He honestly can’t believe you’re saying all this about him. Miguel was usually the man that always knew what to say, but romance? Not his field of expertise, and much less when it came to you.
“Not really, no. Don’t show it much these days.” He looks back down at you, completely smitten by the angel currently lying in his lap.
“Well you should do it more often, it looks nice on you.” You’re not sure what came over you. It was so easy to praise him and watch him become goo from your words and touch.
“Then maybe I should spend more time with you.” Now it was your turn to be bashful. “I make you smile, huh?”
“Quite frequently in fact. It’s ruining my reputation, makin’ me go soft.” You chuckle along with him. “Just face it, you’re my big, scary teddy bear.” Miguel’s heart skips when you say ‘my’. As much as his past self would’ve hated being called that, he loved the possessiveness in it. He was truly yours, since the beginning. “Only if you’ll be the princess I protect.” You smile like an idiot. You hated him (you wanted him so bad).
“This actually reminds me of a certain story...” He ponders on a specific story, one that brings old memories. A faint smile grows on his plush lips.
“Oh, yeah? Mystery, sci-fi, romance…?” you say romance with a badly executed French accent, making him chuckle, “Eh… maybe it’s a romance…” He says with a growing smile. 
“Awe, I knew it, ya big softy. Which one?” You two began discussing your favorite romantic books. Turns out Miguel is a bit of a hopeless romantic himself, though, he’d never reveal that to anyone. You feel compelled to get up and search for your favorite book from the shelves surrounding you, which you both end up doing. Once you’ve found y’all’s respective books, you both return to the same position on the floor, but Miguel’s mood makes a shift. There’s a moment when Miguel’s spirit seems to die down, and you catch it. He looks down at the book with somber eyes. He flips through its pages, his brows furrowed and eyes narrow. “You alright, Miguel?” 
Miguel clears his throat. “I’m fine. Um...” He thinks about what he’s about to say and whether he should even share it. There’s a beat between the two of you. 
“What’re you thinking about?” You can see the gears in his head turn. 
“Nada, mamita, I’m fine.” He lies. He looks at you with a weak smile, but his eyes say differently.
“Anything you have to say is important to me.” You give his hand a small squeeze. “Please?” 
He squeezes back your hand and kisses your wrist. Miguel then worked up the courage to share something he hadn’t told anyone in what felt like years. Sure, his two closest coworkers knew about it, but that’s about it. Miguel didn’t have many, if at all, true friends outside of his work, but he felt you could be trusted. He felt that comfortable with you. Your softness tore down his tough walls. 
You learn that he had a daughter. Her name was Gabriella. He mentions how much she loved playing sports, being outside in the park, and how much she loved it when he read to her. The book currently in his hand was what she would pick almost every night. He’d read it in different voices for each character, making the story come alive for his precious little girl. No matter how many times he read it to her, she listened as if it were the first time. Seeing the little smile on her face made all the fatigue from work melt away. That’s why he chose it as his favorite book. 
He lost Gabriella to what he described as an ‘incident’, but you didn’t urge him to say anything more than what he was comfortable with, respecting his boundaries. 
“Sometimes, I’ll come back to this book and it almost feels like she’s here again.” He opens the book to the first page. Its cover and spine were intricate, the title reading ‘Beauty and The Beast’. 
He branched away from the book for a moment and began to go on and on about what Gabriella was like upon your request to know a little more about her, and instantly, his mood lifted. He speaks about her kindness, intelligence, curiosity, and her extensive imagination. He spoke about her favorite foods (sweets, of course) and even the foods she wasn’t a big fan of. He talked about their post-soccer game rituals of getting ice cream and how they would spend their mornings together eating their favorite cereal before school. With the way he spoke about her, a ball started to form in your throat. It was evident that he loved being a dad. You didn't think you could fall for Miguel harder than you already did until now.
Maybe that was why he was so hard on everyone in his class; maybe it was simply the paternal desire to see your pupils do their absolute best and succeed. It made you sad because this meant that not only has Miguel been alone for all these years, but he’s been alone on account of losing someone he loved so dearly. His precious daughter. And to you, that’s even worse.
You wanted to say how sorry you were for his loss, but you figured he’d heard that millions of times. You wanted to say something that actually meant something. 
“Gabriella sounds like a wonderful person,” You say with a small smile. Miguel looks at you, not really expecting a response like that, “And If you were the one raising her, then I know for sure she was absolutely wonderful.” 
“She was. Thank you.” Miguel looks down at you, you both sharing a quiet moment. “She would’ve really liked you.” He says softly, looking down at his lap where you were. His thumb caresses your cheek, making you smile even wider.
“Yeah?” You try to hold back any tears. This had to be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you. “Yeah.” 
The moment is so sweet and so soft and it felt so nice to be able to just relish in the small silences with him. And when you spoke, your voices were barely above whispers. “She would’ve thought you were a real-life princess for sure. I know I do.” You blush at this, Miguel’s hand on your face only adding more heat to your rosy cheeks. 
“Well, I think I would’ve really liked her, too. I wish we could’ve met.” You place your hand on top of his. Despite you also feeling saddened by this, there’s still a sense of gentle positivity in your voice.
“Me too.” Miguel’s face softens at your response, scenarios playing in his head. Moments between you and his daughter. What life could’ve been like had his daughter still been here to interrogate you as soon as she had the chance, and then just as quickly become your #1 fan. He’s quiet when he’s thinking about this, and you feel the urge to hug him. 
You sit up from his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, Miguel’s face buried into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” You whisper in his ear before kissing his head. You rub his back with your other hand, feeling his breathing deepen.
Miguel lifts his head to look straight at you as if to admire you, “Thanks for listening.” You can’t help but pepper kisses all over his face: forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, and Miguel feels like he’s in heaven. At last, he takes your face in both hands and kisses you on the lips. No other dialogue needed, the two of you sit in peaceful silence again, literally just appreciating each other’s existence. The moment is interrupted by the opening of a door in the distance. Surely a night-time guard.
 “Y’know… we can get in an awful lot of trouble if we’re seen together like this.” You break the silence with a whisper. The teenage-like ambiance returns, winning a smirk from Miguel. “I know. I guess I just can’t bring myself to care right now.” His eyes trail all over your face, landing on your lips. He kisses you again, his lips descending to your neck and his hands squeezing the flesh of your butt. Ticklish and breathless, you begin giggling, ‘Miguel!” but he doesn’t stop, “Miguel O’Hara! What if they see us!” you whisper. 
“Mm, like it when you say my full name.” he muffles into your neck. “Miguel!” you laugh again, trying to push him off. “Take me home! We have class tomorrow!” is what finally stops him. He may or may not have let the heat of the moment get the best of him. “Yeah,” He runs his hand through his hair and fixes his glasses, “You’re right, you’re right.” He stands up, offering you a hand. Without making it look suspicious, you both walk past the guard as well as a few students (who were either passed out or too deep in their downward spiral of an all-nighter). 
Miguel drives you home in something you didn’t expect a college professor would be able to afford. He had his hand on your thigh the whole way, but not before he asked if that was okay, to which you happily granted. The entire car ride, Miguel had you smiling, blushing, laughing at his dated jokes. You were so sad when he pulled up to your place, still not wanting the night to end even though you were tired out of your mind. 
“Thank you for taking me home, my knight in shining armor.” You lean over, puckering your lips as you wait for a kiss. “Of course, Princesa, anything for you.” You both share probably the billionth kiss of the day before he speaks again. “See you tomorrow bright n’ early?” you nod, letting out a soft ‘yeah’. “Alright, get some rest, beautiful. And don’t be late.” he playfully enters professor mode for the last sentence, and you play along. “Of course, Professor O’Hara. Wouldn’t dream of it.” 
Miguel kisses you again and bites your lip, the tension rising once again. “Mm, that’s one you haven’t called me in a while.” You giggle from how easy it is for you to excite Miguel, your absolute loser of a professor, but he’s your loser, and that’s all that matters. You feel his hand snake to your inner thigh, his tongue making its way down your throat, “Mm—Don’t get any ideas, mister, you should head home and get your sleep as well.” He lets out a defeated huff, “ay, Mamita, can’t keep doing that t’me…”
As much as you also wanted to be there with him, having him bounce you on his lap or taking it in the backseat, you also didn’t want for Miguel or yourself to miss class the next morning. Miguel agrees, sharing the very last, tender kiss of the night before finally saying goodnight to each other. You close the car door behind you and say one last thing through the window, “We should do this again. It was nice.” Miguel smiles at you, promising you he’ll take you to the public library one of these days. 
In exchange for more kisses, that is. Or perhaps more.
a/n: Haiiiiii, I hope you enjoyed <3 He's so cute n needy ur honor!! He simply just wants to be held!! I have 5k ish words to prove it!!! (So sorry omfg)
Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my masterlist, bae! <3
<3 Tags <3
@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi i @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu @mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @love4saturn @sukunash0e
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grandline-fics · 14 hours
Note
Hi there! I hope u are doing well, can I request a strawhats crew reaction to a reader who can see ghosts or souls? It can be like their devil fruit power or just something that they're born with. It can be a short fic with all the strawhats or if it's too much it can just be the monster trio, i don't mind either way, do what you prefer! Thanks for letting me request!
DESCRIPTION:  You can see ghosts and spirits
WARNINGS: don’t think it’s too angsty but does mention dead characters. Luffy's is set just before a canon event.
CHARACTERS: Sanji, Zoro, Luffy
WORDS: 1,672
A/N:  Thank you for this request. For some reason I struggled a lot with how I wanted this to go and I hope you're happy with this outcome.
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
———————
You didn’t really know the rhyme or reason for your gift. It was just always something you had and having grown up being able to see and speak with spirits you’d never felt the need to investigate it. Besides even if you were to learn the reason for your unique talent, it wasn’t like you were ever going to seek out a way to get rid of it. As far as you were concerned it was a part of you and it brought comfort to a lot of people once they got over their shock and in some cases heavy skepticism that you were playing a cruel prank on them. 
When you first set foot on the Thousand Sunny you had to suppress the shiver that ran up your spine as you were hit with an intense feeling that those on the crew were connected to a lost one and the weight of their grief was still heavy on their shoulders even if they didn’t realise it themselves. So you decided to keep your ability to yourself for now and help when the occasion to do so arose. As you set yourself up in your quarters you smiled softly, seeing that you truly were brought onto the crew for a reason. Idly you wondered who in the crew would be the first you would help.
SANJI
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Sanji turned out to be the first. You entered the kitchen and smiled in greeting to the ship’s cook only your gaze to drift behind his shoulder. Your smile fell slightly and you stepped further into the room, peering at Sanji with intent concern. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking the chef by surprise as his own smile faltered. 
“Nothing, now that you’re here.” He insisted, adopting his charming smile once more  but you firmly shook your head, refusing to be convinced by his outward demeanour. Sanji became nervous and let his gaze fall away from you stare, finding it easier to maintain his pretence. Quickly he turned back to his chopping board and continued to prepare food for the evening meal. “What on earth would make you think something was wrong?” He asked, trying to keep his voice level. 
“Your mother only ever shows this clearly when you’re deeply upset about something.” Your voice was soft but it was enough to make Sanji drop his knife against the block with a dull thud. He felt like laughing at the ludicrous statement at the same time he felt like shouting at you for the weird joke. Yet he couldn’t do either. You didn’t know anything about him or his family and he knew it wasn’t in you to say something so heartless. Thankfully he didn’t need to demand you explain yourself because you proved your honesty immediately. “You have her eyes and smile, kind and comforting. She worries when you get like this, hiding how you truly feel.”
Sanji looked over his shoulder to see you smiling fondly at something or rather someone beside him. Desperately he wished he could see what you saw, to see her again but if this was as close as he could get then he would take it a hundred times over. “I don’t want anyone to worry, least of all her.” 
“Sanji we all have bad days and hiding that from the people we care about isn’t the way to do it.” You told him, finally looking at his face again, reaching out to lightly push some of the hair from his eyes. “We have emotions for a reason and no-one expects you to suppress them. I’m always here to listen, okay?” You weren’t surprised to be brought into a tight hug by Sanji and returned the embrace, letting him hold you for as long as he needed.
ZORO
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It took some time for you to finally see the spirit attached to Zoro’s heart with enough clarity to take in her appearance and hear her. It didn’t surprise you that this one took longer, Zoro’s personality never came across as being someone who clung to the past and let it cloud his vision but on a day like this it was clear even Zoro wasn’t invulnerable to the deepest of connections that you could now see had been cut far too soon. 
You’d wandered up to the Crow’s Nest to both take a break from the chaotic noise of Luffy, Franky, Chopper and Usopp and also settle in for your evening watch. This wasn’t anything new so Zoro only gave you a brief glance in greeting before going back to training against one of the reinforced training dummies Franky had made to withstand his attacks enough for a worthwhile practice. However he wasn’t moving the way he wanted, something was wrong with his movements. “You’re forgetting the fundamentals.” 
Your voice came from the seating and Zoro looked over his shoulder to see you were casually leaning against the edge, looking out at the ocean. He cocked his head to the side and arched an eyebrow at you. You weren’t even watching him, how would you know what he was apparently doing wrong? As if feeling his stare, you turned your head to look at him. “You’re getting too stuck in your head, just take a breath and keep it simple.” 
Zoro had to scoff at the advice. Yes, you were a fighter but not a swordsman so to be told what was wrong stung his ego slightly. It’d be like if he tried to tell Franky how to fix the ship. You seemed to read the offence on his face and it surprised him to see you laugh and hold up your hands lightly in defence. “That’s not coming from me, it’s coming from Kuina.”
Kuina? Now Zoro found himself glaring and tensing out of a fear of his private life being pried into. Where had you heard that name? Who told you about her? Not that he confided in many about his childhood friend. You sighed sadly and got to your feet. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen this kind of reaction and it wasn’t surprising that Zoro fell back onto the defensive and become distrustful. You stopped in front of the swordsman and glanced briefly at the spirit at his side.
“She’s happy to see you’ve come so far but your name hasn’t quite reached the heavens yet. You still have a long way to go and she believes in you.” You smiled and lightly punched Zoro’s arm when you saw the belief and shock appear in his no longer skeptical gaze. “Keep getting stronger but don’t forget her father’s teachings okay?”
“I won’t let her down. I made a promise.” Zoro affirmed strongly and you grinned, turning to go back to your seat when he quickly caught your arm, surprising you. You turned and looked at him questioningly. “If she’s still here do you…do you think you can help me speak to her?” 
LUFFY
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It wasn’t much of a surprise to you that Luffy was the one to seek you out. He’d caught some talk from the crew about the things you just seemed to know things about their past or about someone they knew that had passed away. His suspicions were confirmed when you’d all stopped on an island for supplies and you’d helped a grieving family in a way no-one else could. You’d managed to ease their pain and reassure them that their loved one was still with them and had no regrets. When you were back on the Sunny he appeared beside you on the railings, grinning widely and already bouncing with excitement. “You see ghosts right?”
“Yeah, I see them. Not at will though.” You clarified, with Luffy being well Luffy you didn’t want to disappoint him by making him think that what you could was as easily controlled as a Devil Fruit ability which this was not. Still though your statement didn’t deflate him, if anything he only got more excited and he leaned in closer and set his hands on your shoulders. 
“What about me? Is someone with me?” Despite how excited he was you could sense a faint desperation coming from Luffy and you wanted to be able to help but as you’d already told him this wasn’t something that you could manipulate and command freely whenever you wanted. You looked at Luffy carefully and then around him in search of a presence connected to him. Suddenly you felt a warmth and made out the outline of a man standing behind your Captain and you couldn’t help but smile.
“Ace.” You felt like you were saying it in greeting. You’d known about Luffy’s brother but never had the pleasure of actually getting to meet him. It was almost eerie how both Luffy and Ace grinned so happily and in sync but it was also so infectious. Luffy seemed pleased but then seemed to be eager for more. 
“Is it just Ace? Is anyone else with him? Maybe younger?” He asked and you slowly shook your head with a small frown. 
“Sorry Luffy, just Ace.” You said, disappointed that you couldn’t give Luffy what he wanted and seeing him sigh slightly and lower his gaze briefly made you feel guilty even though you knew it wasn’t your fault. Still though you couldn’t help but look to Ace, silently pleading for assistance on his part. However the brother only smirked knowingly and you began to suspect that Ace knew something you and Luffy didn’t. Thankfully that was all you needed to cheer Luffy up. “Just because I don’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not with you though Luffy. Maybe next time whoever it is you’re thinking about will be there instead?” 
“Yeah you’re right!” Luffy grinned while leaping up onto the railing, his previous excited energy returning instantly. Before you could speak any more, Law’s voice called for Luffy wanting to go over the plan for when you all would be reaching Dressrosa in just a couple days time. 
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cho-aaacho · 3 days
Text
I love you, truly. There's no doubt in my mind.
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Masterlist
Characters : Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi, and Choso.
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Gojo Satoru (Childhood Friend)
"Ah, isn't it cute?" 
"Yeah."
You simply nodded as Gojo Satoru, your childhood friend, invited you on an aquarium date. It had been a while since you had spent time with him, cherishing these small moments together.
You couldn't recall exactly how long you had known Satoru. As far back as you could remember, you had been his best friend a long time ago, sharing the same blue sky, laughing, lovingly touching each other's hands, playfully giggling, and embracing both his joys, sadness, and happiness.
Some describe him as nonchalant, others as arrogant and annoying, yet to you, he is just like a petite star in the veil of the night sky. So bright yet teasingly distant, just beyond your grasp.
You're acutely aware that being his priority or even dancing in his thoughts is beyond reach. It's clear to you that his actions toward you are merely as friends. 
Since high school, your heart has been sealed within him, keeping it concealed within the recesses of your mind.
...why does God plant the seeds of love in your heart only for them to remain unwatered and untouched by Gojo Satoru?
He chuckled upon noticing your prolonged gaze, a soft smile forming on his lips, causing warmth to spread to your cheeks.
"Do you remember when we were kids and you told me you wanted to be a teacher? Well, now I've stolen that dream, and I'm the one who became a teacher," he remarked. "And remember when you said you wanted to become a skilled baker? Well, I stole that dream too!"
You rolled your eyes, feeling a tingle of irritation. "Yeah, you've stolen every dream I have, and I ended up as a pathetic office worker. But... what exactly are you trying to say?"
His attention shifted to the aquarium, snapping a few photos before continuing. "Hmm... what if I were to say I stole your start? How does that sound?"
"What do you mean, Satoru-kun?"
"Yuuji... he mentioned something about this before we set off on our little date. He mentioned that you had planned on something. I don't think he meant to spill the tea because it was supposed to be a secret. But you know how bad Yuuji is at keeping secrets, so, well, he let it slip."
He paused, then added, "The thing you want to say this day is... Satoru-kun, as unbelievable as it may sound, I'm absolutely head over heels for you. I love you."
He giggled. "And since I stole your start, it means, like, you know what I mean, right?" 
Now your mind is full of cherry blossoms...
A smile curled on his lips. As he gets closer, your shoulder touches his, making your heart beat so fast. How could he know this so fast? Did he know that you loved him for a very long time?
He shook his head and removed his sunglasses, perching them atop his silver hair. He stared at you with a soft smile. "I love you. Will you be mine?"
Geto Suguru (Boss/Employee Relationship)
"I wish I could see you not only today but every day. Please stay by my side," Geto expressed lovingly.
The memory of Geto's heartwarming words lingered in your mind. It's so endearing, isn't it? How could he leave you with this feeling? Did he even try to find out or ask you after this? 
You still remember that time. It was a nice morning during spring, and you both indulged in green tea and sakuramochi on the terrace. Talking about sakura and kakigori. You found yourself just nodding and smiling, unable to find the words to respond.
Perhaps... you're too shy to face him, or it was the shock of his unexpected confession, considering your interaction with him is always in a formal atmosphere.
His words were consistently warm, polite, and kind towards everyone, but sometimes they left you confused about whether they were sincere or merely of his inherent kindness. 
But you knew too well; it's just a part of Geto's natural charm. Despite occasional rudeness towards non-jujutsu-shi, everyone adored him for his personality, a trait you've always loved in your deepest heart.
This time, Geto invited you to the planetarium. He expressed being in a good mood to take you out, releasing his desire to spend quality time together, and affirming that you're the only one who fits with him on this date.
Despite the comments from everyone that the date was so childish and corny, you eagerly accepted the invitation. You loved this idea.
He said he has always loved stars and planets since he was a little kid, and this kind of date would refresh his sweet childhood memory. 
That morning, when he came out of his room, it was the first time you saw Geto dressed casually instead of in his priestly attire. You couldn't help but notice how effortlessly appealing he looked, hinting at his charm, his pretty face, and his warm eyes. Everything about him is indeed beautiful.
"Shall we?" he said, extending his hand. You felt the warmth and gentleness of his palm as you squeezed it, eliciting a chuckle from him.
His large palm brought a sense of protection and security as it touched your skin, making you happy. It was the first time you felt such intensity from touching Geto Suguru, sparking curiosity about whether he had done this with anyone else.
"Are you happy?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
"Of course, Geto-san. How could I say no to an invitation from someone like you? I'm grateful for your company."
He nodded and smiled, then paused. "So... would you mind if we did this again in the future? Perhaps... for something more romantic and intimate?"
You blushed. "Um..."
"Oh, sorry if I confused you. What I meant is," he leaned in closer, gently touching your hair, then traced your jawline with a smile. 
"I understand if you don't see it as romantic, but, well, I'd like to ask if you want to meet my friend next week. She's a talented designer and has crafted some beautiful wedding dresses."
"What do you mean?"
He chuckled. "I was thinking of having you try on her wedding dress. I know she has one that would look stunning on you. I envision you wearing it, sitting by my side, like a good couple, because... I want to marry you."
Nanami Kento (Secret Admirer)
"Oh, flowers?" 
Haibara teased, peeking over from his desk with a mischievous grin. It's been a month now since you started receiving these surprises. Adorned at your desk whenever you come to the office in the morning.
At first, it was just a card, but then the next week came flowers, followed by your favorite cake, coffee, and even a keychain featuring your beloved mascot. Yet, each gift arrives without a sender's name, leaving you intrigued.
You attempt to inquire with your coworkers, hoping to find alternatives and answers from them. Unfortunately, they seem unaware of the sender's identity, giving a hint that they can't help you with this. 
"Aren't you happy that you have a secret admirer? I can see it in your eyes," Nanami says, his gaze fixed on the computer screen as his fingers dance across the keyboard.
"I'm just wondering why they're hiding all these gifts and remaining anonymous. I'm not a teenager anymore; this kind of thing only makes me anxious, you know."
He pauses briefly, shifting his attention from the computer to you, who is engrossed in checking documents at your desk. 
"I wouldn't consider the sender creepy or anything, because whoever it is seems to have a deep understanding of me. Like, when I mentioned to Haibara-kun that I had a migraine, the next day I received migraine medicine."
Paused, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Or when I mentioned I wanted to eat chocolate truffles, the next day they appeared on my desk. None of this feels coincidental, I must admit."
You stroke your chin thoughtfully. "I suppose... I appreciate it when someone shows they care about me, but it'd mean even more if I knew who they were. You see, I've always been alone since I was a child, so when someone shows me their kindness, I'll love them sincerely."
"So, what are you going to do with this?" Nanami's voice was tinged with anxiety.
"Maybe I'll bake a cake or something for them as my gratitude. My grandma gave me a recipe for baking a cake, and she called it Cake For Someone Special." 
You force a smile and gaze at him. "But, I'll probably say goodbye to them if I have met them, and... thank you?
Nanami's voice changed, sounding anxious. "Eh... why?"
You chuckled. "The manager transferred me to another office. It's a new office for what I know, and they needed a new staff."
After hearing this, a burning sensation stirred within Nanami. He attempted to quell it by conjuring thoughts in his mind. But a question flooded his thoughts: How could this happen to me? Should I reveal the truth? That I—
"Nanami-san..." You began taking on a mysterious tone. "You know... everyone has unique handwriting. Do you believe that each person's handwriting is unique?"
He frowned but remained silent.
"I've been observing all my coworkers and noticed that each of them has a different handwriting. Well, some share similarities, but there are still noticeable differences."
You glanced at him. "And your handwriting, Nanami-san, is truly remarkable. It seems to reflect your personality—kind, caring, and observant."
You continued, "Some believe that handwriting can reveal a person's personality. I don't claim to be an expert, but I've noticed similarities between your handwriting and our little anonymous. So, are you—"
"I'm sorry," he murmured, his words trailing into the air.
"Yes, I know it sounds ridiculous and weird. I was the one who sent you gifts, cards, and everything. I know I may sound creepy or cheesy, but... I just want to share my feelings with you. Sorry if I'm not gentle enough with all of this, but please... don't leave me. I'll send the gifts once again, with my name on them, as long as you remain by my side."
It felt a bit odd hearing Nanami speak those words in front of you at the office. Yet, deep down, there was a sense of joy upon hearing them. Something inside you is blooming like a flower. Beautiful.
You chuckled softly and whispered, "Who said I'm going to leave you? I simply mentioned that our manager might transfer me, but I'm not necessarily agreeing with it. So how about we grab lunch after this? And we can talk about this later, right, Nanami-san?"
Oh... Lord, how smoothly Haibara's plan was working on Nanami. It was quite satisfying... 
"And, again, Nanami-san. I'll never leave you." 
Fushiguro Megumi (cuteness)
He adores flowers. Everything about them always makes his heart float like a delicate feather. He can't recall exactly when his love for flowers began, but it's likely influenced by his sister.
As one of the florists in town, Megumi loves to visit you to admire the flowers and buy some for his sister.
It's quite uncommon to find a man with such a sweet appreciation for flowers. He explained that it stemmed from his sister's passion, and he loves cherishing and feeling happiness from them.
For you, it's delightful to connect with someone who shares similar interests, and you hold this bond with Megumi.
Megumi has also taken the time to learn Hanakotoba, and he happily shares his knowledge with anyone, including you.
Whenever he talks about flowers, you can see the kindness in his eyes and the warmth of his compassionate smile, sometimes leaving you feeling a bit bashful.
One day, when he visits you, there's an air of gloom and sadness surrounding him. 
Though you're unsure of what has transpired, you detect a hint of sorrow in his demeanor. 
He may be reluctant to divulge the details, or perhaps he's attempting to shield his sadness, but it's clear that he needs someone to confide in or share his sorrow.
"Are you alright? You seem rather down," you remark, your gaze drifting to the orchids nearby.
"I... I'm not sure if I am. It's just... you know, a little problem."
You couldn't help but chuckle at the fleeting glimpse of upset in his eyes. Still wondering how to cheer him up? Perhaps you could try a bouquet for free or a comforting cup of hot chocolate for your dear friend.
It's so rare to see him this gloomy; usually, he's always seen with a warm smile around you, signaling his comfort in your presence. 
But this time... feels different.
"I can help you, Megumi-kun."
He is gazing at you, falling into stillness while brushing back his hair. "I want to give my friend a gift, but I don't know her favorite."
Oh... her?
So... it's because of a woman? What kind of woman is changing Megumi's mood all of a sudden?
There's nothing wrong with that, but why does it feel uneasy to you?
You halt your thoughts and shake your head, knowing it's best not to jump to conclusions. 
You tease him and giggle to lighten the mood. "Oh, who is she? Your new girlfriend?"
A hint of blush renders his cheeks, and despite Megumi trying to hide his shyness, you can still see it. Oh... so cute. Cute.
"N-no, it's not quite like that. She's a good friend, someone truly special. She's always there for me, supporting me, showing me love, and I want to express my gratitude somehow."
Deep down... you're aware that his feelings for this woman go beyond friendship. It's evident in Megumi's eyes and the way he proudly talks about her. 
"I see..."
Well, he may be in love.
"How about you give her gerberas?"
He frowned. "Why?"
"Well, red gerberas represent unconscious love or being fully immersed in love. It looks like your feelings for her are more than just friendship. But I'm sorry, Megumi-kun. I don't have gerberas."
He smiled softly and nodded. You felt content seeing Megumi's mood shift to warmth, gentleness, and softness, especially when you noticed the sparkle in his eyes when you mentioned gerberas.
"Why do I forget about that one? Thank you for reminding me."
The last thing you remember is that Megumi ran through the entrance, leaving you standing alone in the shop. A sigh escaped from your lips, and a strange emptiness enveloped you, wrapping you alone in the corner.
As you returned home from work, the moments of the day almost faded from your mind until you spotted Megumi standing in front of your apartment. 
You have no idea how long he's been there. But it was a beautiful afternoon when the sun went down and was replaced by hues of twilight. All you can see is him grabbing something that looks like a bouquet from afar, but you aren't sure.
"Megumi-kun, what are you doing here?"
Now, as you gazed at him, he stood there, tenderly holding a bouquet in his hand.
"There's something I need to discuss about our relationship, something I need to confirm with you. It might seem trivial, but... I feel it's important to say," he began, his smile warm and genuine.
As he handed you the bouquet, you noticed a bouquet of gerberas nestled within, elegantly wrapped alongside a beautiful envelope. It's simply beautiful, just like him, Fushiguro Megumi. It was perhaps the most exquisite bouquet you'd ever laid eyes on.
Caught between reality and a daydream, you found yourself stuck by Megumi's smile. How could all of this be happening to you? Was it truly meant for you—the flower, the letter, his confession, everything?
"You're simply beautiful, and I love you," he whispered softly. "I want you to be with me."
Choso (First Kiss)
"The rain doesn't seem to be letting up. How are we going to get home?"
"I'm not sure, but stuck in the classroom isn't a good idea. I should hurry home, or my brothers will worry about me."
"Heh, you're such a good big brother."
Rain falling to the ground creates a calming atmosphere. The aroma of moist soil is in your nose. It always leaves a pleasant, romantic impression.
A peculiar feeling began to invade your mind, pleading for assistance in escaping these situations. It was dark and cold, and you hate them. All you could sense were raindrops, Choso's humming, and the ticking of the clock. It leaves a blue atmosphere for you, to be honest.
His eyes gazed at you with a smile on his lips. "Yeah, maybe we could use an umbrella, but I think you'd hate it if we used that ugly one."
You joking. "An umbrella? Well, maybe it would be nice if we used it. You know, it sounds... romantic."
A warm feeling began to invade your system as you said that. You weren't sure if he could notice or sense the tease, but your rosy cheeks gave it away.
"Oh, you want to try it?"
A smile waltzed across Choso's lips. He studied your face before nodding. His gaze, as warm as the sun, locked onto yours, desperately vying for your attention.
He sidled closer. "You know, just trying... it won't hurt you."
He shared his laughter with you, a symphony of joy that danced through the air. 
He reached for his umbrella in his bag. "I'm not lying," he said. "I always brought an umbrella from home; so shall we?"
Your gaze swept over him, scanning what the umbrella looked like. Well, it doesn't seem bad, like he said earlier, despite how tiny it was. It could fit both of you. Choso is a tall man, but you're sure that the umbrella will fit both of you. And you think it will be good if you're close to him.
"What do you think?" His words hung in the air like a playful challenge. "Would you like to try it?"
You nodded in agreement and, without thinking. Now that your attention is drawn to the outside, the raindrop is still falling but not as heavy as before.
You can't seem to remember everything clearly; it all happened so fast. From what you recall, you're both already outside with Choso under the same umbrella. The atmosphere is cold and freezing. It's been a long time since you've shared an umbrella with someone, let alone been this close.
You try to calm yourself by closing your eyes, but in reality, you are unable to move an inch of your very fingers. It's so weird, to be honest.
"Are you okay?" Choso's voice brought you back to reality. You gazed at him and noticed that your face and his were close, almost touching his nose.
...at this rate, he'll be...
"N-no, I'm okay..."
"Come closer," he whispered. "I don't want you to get wet by the rain, or you'll be sick." He continued. "You don't want me to be closer?"
"No, it's not, Choso-kun. I just..."
He leaned in, closing the gap between you and him. Making your face even blushier than before. "You know Nobara says when you're this close with someone, you should kiss them. Do you want to try it too? Well, this is my first time kissing someone; I just want to try."
"Oh... Choso—"
But before you could respond to him, his lips had already met yours, sealing you with a warm and gentle kiss, leaving you breathless, vulnerable, and willing to surrender.
For someone who claims it was his first time, his kiss was actually good—not rushed or forced, just a tender and soft kiss from someone you love dearly.
He whispered between the kisses. "Promise me you'll stay like this..."
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Time After Time | Chapter Eighteen
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character
Summary: Tommy has an important question for Grace, Ada and Freddie get married, and someone else comes back from the dead
Warning: language
ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here
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Chapter 18: Trouble
Will it come to pass, or will I pass the test? You know what they say, yeah the wicked get no rest. You can have my heart, any place, any time.  Got so much to lose. Got so much to prove. God, don’t make me lose my mind.  — Trouble, Cage The Elephant
“Do you like races?” 
The way Tommy asked the question made your heart clench. 
You sat in the back room of the pub, peeking through a small crack in the doorway as you tried to remind yourself, It’s not real. You were trying to unsuccessfully distract yourself with the inventory as you stayed out of the way. 
But your eye caught the way Grace’s head tilted as she offered him her shy smile.
“Is it Cheltenham?” she asked sweetly. He hummed out a yes. “And you want to take me?” 
The way she emphasized the last word made you want to roll your eyes. 
You heard him clear his throat. “You’ll fit in. Prim, posh, like the rest of the rich girls who come in for these races.” 
You couldn’t help but look down at your own outfit, so dingy next to her deep red sweater and bright blonde hair, not a soft curl out of place. Get it together, you chastised yourself, completely over the self-loathing streak you’d been in lately. 
But the way Grace’s cheeks pinkened slightly at the compliment felt like twist of the knife already plunged into your psyche. 
This had been Tommy’s plan, you tried to remind yourself. The night before, after he’d come over from his altercation with Billy Kimber in the pub, he’d explained how he’d persuade the new barmaid to accompany them. 
You’d almost laughed at the way you had to remind him that he couldn’t just force someone to prostitute themselves out just because he said so. You had to remind yourself that in this period, with Tommy’s influence, he probably could. But you’d been successful in steering him away from that method. 
And while his proposal still felt very daunting, he’d decided to go the more flattering route. Still, you didn’t like the idea of leading her on. Not just because of your own feelings, but because you didn’t like putting someone in potential danger. Even if Kimber had good intentions (which you severely doubted, even though you’d never met the man), it wasn’t fun being blindsided that way. 
But Tommy had convinced you to ease her into it. Not to tell her something until there was something to tell. Again, you weren’t happy with it — but you’d come to learn how far Tommy was willing to bend on matters like these. 
You heard coins dropping on the counter, Tommy’s voice pulling back to their exchange. 
“Here, for the dress. Make it red.” 
“I’ll need more than that.”
Tommy huffed out an amused breath before you heard another coin be placed on the table. “That’s three pounds.”
“And how much did you pay for the suit you’ll be wearing?” 
“Oh, I don’t pay for suits.” You heard the clinking of glass as he collected the bottle of whiskey and glasses he’d asked for when he originally entered. Then he continued, “My suits are on the house, or the house burns down.”
“So you want me to go lookin’ like a flower girl?”
“What I want makes no difference. It’s not me you’re dressing up for.”
The sound of the snug window doors closed, and you felt yourself exhale, knowing the conversation between the pair had come to an end for now. A few seconds later, you heard the pub doors open and close, then the distinct sound of the snug doors close. 
Tommy had a meeting — some men who’d reached out wanting to discuss some potential business. 
After a few minutes, now back on the inventory, you got up and opened the door to the main room to check on something. You stopped when you noticed Grace leaning against the wall of the snug, her ear pressed against the window. She didn’t notice you, her concentration focused on overhearing whatever conversation was going on in the other room. 
You were deciding whether you should stop her, or continue to observe to see what she was up to, when the sound of singing began to grow louder from inside the snug. The singing caused her to push away from the wall, but not before her eyes finally met yours. Her mouth dropped in surprise before snapping shut as she tried to busy herself, but you didn’t miss the slight panic behind her eyes of being caught. She grabbed a crate of bottles and hustled into the side room behind the bar.
“All right, boys,” Tommy boomed as he opened the doors and gestured for them to exit, “when I know who knows what about what, I’ll let you know.” 
One of the men pushed the second man still singing out the pub door, and you caught the last bit of his song. 
“—I long to see the boys of the old IRA!”
Tommy shook his head as he set the bottle on the counter. 
“Pretty bold of them to sing that with the new Inspector running around,” you commented as you moved behind the counter, grabbing the paperwork you’d originally come out for. 
He huffed out a chuckle, bringing the cigarette to his mouth. “They’re only rebels because they like the songs.” 
You rose your brow, “Will they be back?” 
“Nah,” he shook his head, blowing out smoke. “They’ll go back to the Black Swan in Sparkbrook. I have to go, but tonight,” he pointed at you as he walked backwards toward the door. 
You nodded, a slight flush across your cheek at the bluntness of his comment. Only a few men sat in the far corners of the booth, but still, it wasn’t like Tommy was trying to be discreet. 
It’d been two nights in a row now that Tommy had closed out the day in your apartment. Nothing scandalous had happened either time— he hadn’t even kissed you since you’d gone to the races. Not that you were necessarily opposed to things moving a bit further — but knowing your luck the minute the two of you did, the world would swallow up into itself to stop you. 
The sound of Grace clearing her throat as she reemerged from the side room caused you to turn around. 
“That wasn’t what it looked like,” she began, and you were surprised at her gumption to address her obvious snooping. 
Your brow creased, “Really? You’re going to pretend like you weren't eavesdropping?” 
“I was just— they were my countrymen,” she stumbled, her eyes looking down to her hands. “I got curious. I know I shouldn’t—”
“No,” you emphasized. 
You could see her throat bobble. “I’ve never seen them before. I haven’t seen many Irishmen in this pub, really. It was a Republic song they were singing, wasn’t it?” 
“I think so,” you answered, still skeptic but curious. “Tommy said they don’t normally drink here.” 
“Oh,” she said, chancing a look back at you. “Did Mr. Shelby say where they do?” 
“Tommy wasn’t exactly whispering just now, I assume you heard him say where,” you answered. Her eyes dropped quickly, her cheeks pink as she met your eyes again. Unsure what her angle here was, your curiosity piqued. “Are you interested?” 
“I have no sympathies for them,” she said sharply, almost out of instinct. Her facial expressions shifted from disgusted to shameful, and then back to a forced neutral, as she must have realized her own tone too late. 
But in the quick moment, there was pain behind her eyes that you couldn’t help but notice. You didn’t completely understand, but you knew enough to know that what was going on with the division of Ireland at the moment was delicate. Especially with the reputation the Inspector had brought with him. And based on the history you knew, it was only going to get worse.
“I didn’t mean to imply—“
“The keg is empty, I’m going to refill it,” she said instead, avoiding your gaze as she went into the inventory room. 
“Grace.”
She stepped back into the doorway, her eyes still downcast. You waited for them to meet your eyes again before you continued. 
“Just… be careful.”
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Ada had disappeared. You nor Polly had heard from her since Freddie came back and proposed to her at the train station, ignoring Tommy’s request for them to flee the city. 
So when a knock on your door startled you early in the morning, you were surprised to see the girl, who flew into your flat with a handful of white fabric. 
“YN, you’ve got to help me.” 
She threw everything in her hands to the bed as you asked if everything was okay. 
Turning around, her grin answered that question for you. “I’m getting married this morning. You have to help me get ready. Please.” 
Without another thought, you jump to start helping her. Her dress was beautiful white and ivory layered fabric that resembled very much what you imagined the women’s fashion was going to become. It was loose around her stomach, her baby bump finally prominent. 
“Where are you gonna go after the ceremony?” you asked, helping her tie the back of her dress. 
She sighed, “Nowhere.” 
“But I thought Tommy—”
“Freddie won’t have it. He’s insistent we stay here for now at least,” she said, her previous bubbly mood falling.
“Well since you’re staying, are you sure you don’t Polly to be here now? I mean, it’s not every day you get married.” 
She shook her head. “She’ll just try to stop me.” 
“And you didn’t think I would?” you asked, half joking. 
“I did.” Her answer surprised you. “I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I know that you and Tommy have been seein’ more of each other.” 
“It’s all still pretty platonic,” you countered, fiddling with a piece of her jewelry. When she creased her brow at your use of phrase. You offered her a shrug. “We’ve kissed, but I just can’t tell what he wants. I don’t even know if it’s a good idea, I just… I can’t help myself.” 
She gave you an empathetic smile, sitting with you on the bed as she took the jewelry out of your hand and replaced it with her own. “I may hate my brother right now, but I do love him. And I know him. I see glimpses of the boy he was before the war when he’s with you. Polly sees it too — we have a bet going on how long it’ll take before the two of you will make it official.” 
Your mouth gaped at that, shaking your head. “I’m choosing to ignore that comment.”
She chuckled. “Don’t worry, we wouldn’t dare say anything to Tommy. He’s nearly as stubborn as I am.” 
“Fine. But why then did you come here if you thought I was going to try and stop you?” 
She paused, biting her lip before fastening her shoes. “Because you didn’t tell Tommy about Freddie. He was genuinely surprised when I told him. Honestly, I’d assumed you’d told him already—”
“I wouldn’t.”
“I know.” She offered you a smile before tilting her head. “And, I know you don’t normally like to talk about the deep things — at least, not with me — but… can I ask you, why?”
Ada hadn’t pried much into your life. It’d been one of the things you’d been more grateful for in your friendship. 
Honestly, previously you had assumed she hadn’t pried because of her immaturity. She was very much a carefree, live-in-the-moment kind of girl, keeping most emotions and conversations at the surface level. 
But the look on her face made you wonder if you hadn’t been giving the girl credit. Maybe she was all those things sometimes, but she really did surprise you on how sympathetic and slightly intuitive she could be when she wanted to. And maybe she’d always been aware of your aversions to personal prying this whole time. 
You took her hand and offered her a sincere smile. “I moved around a lot growing up. I found it difficult to make friends, even through adulthood. When I first got here, you welcomed me in when I had no one. You helped me make the most of this life I found myself in and helped me miss my old life a little less. You welcomed me into your family and you were always there to remind me of a cheerier world. I’ll always be grateful to you.” 
Ada pulled you into a hug. “I knew I made the right decision.”
You wiped away the small tear that’d rolled down your cheek as she pulled away, busing yourself with the final piece of the ensemble.
You stood up and began tying on her veil. It was so delicate and ornate, adorned with flowers around edge that matched the free spirit you’d always seen in your friend. 
You stood her up and smoothed out her veil, then turned her to face you, your eyes scanning for any final touches. When you were done, you took a step back and covered your mouth, your smile bursting. Her own smile widened at your reaction, turning to appraise herself in your mirror. 
“Oh Ada,” your heart was bursting, “you’re beautiful.” 
She blushed, her grin wide and excitement infectious. Despite the circumstances of her fiance, you really were happy for Ada. As the first person who’d accepted you in this new world, you felt very protective and loyal to Ada. 
It’d been why you kept her secret about Freddie from the rest of her family, and why you’d promised to wait and tell Polly until that afternoon, after you knew the ceremony was official. 
While anxious, the matriarch had taken the news better than you expected. Though you guessed she was anticipating them getting married, what she hadn’t was Tommy’s deal with the Inspector to get Freddie out of the city. 
Apparently, Polly’s attempt at ‘dealing with it peacefully’ hadn’t worked out the way she expected. Ada turned up at the Garrison flushed and out of breath, looking for either her brother or husband. 
“They’re gonna kill each other,” she’d nearly cried when you grabbed her arm, stabilizing her as she bent forward. 
“Ada, you need to calm down,” you tried to push the cup of water back into her hands. She breathed sharply as she rubbed her stomach. “This isn’t good for the baby.” 
“I don’t care,” she said through a haggard breath. “I have to find them. I have to try—“ 
You followed her outside and kept up with her until Freddie emerged from the stairway of a canal bridge. She threw herself into him, and you urged him to take her home and make her rest. You watched from the side of the road as they crossed it. 
“He’s going to ruin her life,” you heard Tommy’s deep voice behind you. 
“You can’t keep doing that to her,” you said without turning around. You felt him move beside you, both of you still looking in the couple’s direction until they turned down an alleyway. “The stress isn’t good for the baby. She nearly passed out in the pub just now worried you two were going to kill each other—“ 
“I should have.” 
“But you didn’t.”
He took a deep breath, “He loves her.” 
Your eyes shifted over to finally look at him, his eyes still staring at the empty alleyway. 
That was the first time he’d ever acknowledged their feelings for each other. You were convinced he thought Freddie was using Ada — hell, since they got back, you were tempted to start thinking that way too. It wasn’t a secret how dedicated he was to the communist party, and you knew most of the strikes around here were either spearheaded by Freddie himself, or encouraged by him. There were times you began to question what he loved more: Ada or his cause. 
But time and time again, Ada assured you that their love was real and strong enough to combat even Tommy’s fire. 
And now, it seemed, something had finally assured Tommy that Freddie wasn’t just in it for her last name. 
“What convinced you?” 
“When we were kids, Ada used to chase us around, shouting at us to slow down, to wait for her, to include her in our little games.” Tommy’s throat bobbled as you watched the reel move behind his eyes, lost in his childhood memories. “Freddie would always slow down. I never realized… or maybe I did.” 
He blinked, breaking the trance he’d been in as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a cigarette. He ran it between his lips and lit it. 
Blowing the smoke away, his eyes hardened. 
”He asked about the guns,” he said, his voice low despite the relatively secluded spot. “You haven’t told Ada—“ 
“No,” you said firmly, not letting him finish his question. 
He hummed approvingly. Another moment passed before he spoke again. “You never asked me why.” 
Your brow creased as you tried to decipher what he meant. 
“Freddie and me.” He blew out a puff of smoke. “I’ve seen you watch us, when we’ve been in the same rooms. You heard what he said in the pub the day Danny blew in. And I know Ada has told you how close we used to be. But you’ve never asked me why Freddie and I fell out.”
“You never offered,” you countered, meeting his eyes again. You crossed your arms, not sure what he was playing at with bringing this up now. When he brought the cigarette to his lips again, it was obvious he wanted you to continue. “I guess I just assumed you both returned from the war with different outlooks on the world. He doesn’t accept the powers-that-be and wants to change them.” 
He hummed, blowing out his smoke. “And me?” 
“Did you ever feel that way?” you found yourself asking, head tilted as you considered him. You hadn’t thought about it before, but it would have made sense. Freddie’s passions weren’t new, they were deep and rooted, and it would make sense for him to have been a member of the communist party either during the war or before. You were realizing now that there was a chance Tommy could have been entertaining the idea as well before he left. 
The way Tommy’s lips tightened into a hard line and he lifted his chin told you enough. But surprisingly, he offered you a short answer. “Once. Before.” 
“And now?” He didn’t answer that one. You took a deep breath as you continued. “Maybe you still don’t agree with the powers-that-be, but I don’t think it matters to you anymore. Freddie wants to change the world; you want to use it.” 
“I won’t let ‘em put us back in the mud,” he said, his voice calloused as he stared forward. He swallowed, “I need a drink.” 
Instead of walking toward the Garrison, where you knew Grace was closing up for the night, Tommy turned right, toward your apartment. 
You felt your breath let out, not realizing you’d been tensed up since Ada had blown into the Garrison. 
Catching up with Tommy, you decided to lighten the mood a little. “I’m gonna need to restock if you keep drinking all my whiskey,” you teased.  
He let out a humored breath. “Well, next time you’re at the Garrison, just grab a bottle on me.” 
You rolled your eyes, “Yeah Harry would love that.” 
“Not up to Harry anymore what happens to the inventory.” 
Tommy let out a puff of smoke as you turned back to face him before letting him into your flat. 
“What do you mean?” 
“I bought it.” 
“What?—“ your brow creased as his words sunk in. “You bought the Garrison? Can you even do that?”
“I made Harry a very fair offer,” Tommy said plainly as he made himself comfortable in your flat. It was beginning to feel less strange to have company. “He’ll stay on for as long as he wants and still manage the place.”
You felt a pang of sadness for the former owner. Harry loved that place, and always had such pride for it and its patrons. 
“But why?” You asked, starting to take your shoes off. Despite you traveling in time, there were still some little rituals that you just couldn’t shake. And taking your shoes off when you got home was one of them. 
Tommy began to pour two glasses. “Arthur needs some direction.”
“A distraction, you mean.”
He rose his brow, but nodded. “Regardless. He needs to keep his head out of the bloody bottle and on the business. Besides, weren’t you the one who said we needed to find a way to pass the influx of money coming in from the shop?”
It’s true, you had raised that question to Tommy recently after the Monaghan Boy win. Not that you knew much more about money laundering than you’d learned from watching Breaking Bad. But it’d apparently been enough to pique Tommy’s interest and take you seriously. 
Tommy was right though. What you’d been anticipating was finally coming to a head — Tommy was, for all intents and purposes, the head of the Shelby family and the Peaky Blinders. Arthur, who had been feeling the effects of his slow descent for the past couple months, was drowning his sorrows almost daily and picking a fight whenever he got the chance. You’d even begun watering down his drinks by the time he’d get to through half a bottle on nights when you were working in the pub and he was working his way to being sloshed. 
“You’ll have to help him,” Tommy spoke up after you didn’t comment. 
You breathed out a disbelieving laugh, “Like Arthur would ever listen to me.”
“You’ll have to make him,” he took a step toward you and offered you your drink. When you met his eyes, he smirked, “Like you did me.” 
You rose your brow. “You want me to nearly push him in the Cut and play a get-to-know-you drinking game with him?”
His smirk turned into a small smile, “Maybe not exactly like you did with me. But you’ll talk to him. You’ll reason with him. He’ll come to accept it.” 
“You’ve been promising he’d come to accept me for months now,” you countered. 
“And he has, you just haven’t noticed.” 
You shook your head, still not convinced and beginning to worry about how you’d get along with Arthur now that you’d be essentially working for him. 
“You two and can discuss the Garrison’s future at the next family meetin’.”
You rolled your eyes, half laughing at the comment. “The only reason Arthur invited me to the last one was to accuse me of influencing you. There’s no way he’d be cool with me coming to more—“
“He won’t have a choice.”
Your brow furrowed, “What does that mean?”
Tommy pulled your hand into his, causing you to stop pacing and stepped into you. The act surprised you, meeting his eyes again. They were soft, a small crease in the corners as he looked between your own, then to your lips. 
“You’re mine, ‘member?” his deep voice vibrated against you as he reached up and ran his thumb across your cheek, then down to your chin. You got deja vu from that first night outside of your apartment building as he reminded you of the words you’d said to him Christmas Eve in his bed. “Well I’m yours. We’re in this together, ya?”
Your heart pounded at his words. Whatever hesitations or insecurities you’d been feeling were gone as Tommy held you against him, his eyes waiting for your response. 
“Yeah,” you said easily, welcoming his lips to meet yours. 
His kiss was soft, a gentle tug that showed no signs of being rushed, but savored. You hummed contently into it as you felt his lips smile against yours. 
What was it about this man that made your brain go fuzzy and speech cease? Every time he brought his lips to yours, you felt like everything made sense. Like you weren’t standing in a room surrounded by puzzle pieces — but that the final piece was falling into place, even just for a moment. You laced your fingers through his hair, desperate to hold on to this feeling for as long as you could. Even if it was just a taste. 
He pulled away slightly, his forehead rest against yours as you caught your breath. “Whatever we face, whether it’s Arthur or Ada—“
“Or Kimber or Campbell,” you added with a slight mocking mirth. 
He breathed out a soft laugh and rolled his eyes. “Or whatever else might come our way — I know we can face it. Together.”
You lifted on your toes slightly to meet his lips again when a hard knock at your door caused you to jump. 
You and Tommy looked to each other confused — no one aside from Tommy or Ada ever came to your apartment. A second knock prompted Tommy to take the lead in opening the door as you grabbed for your bag with Polly’s gun inside. 
“Danny?” Tommy greeted opening the door wider for the formally dead man to come into your apartment. 
Danny Owens gave you a shy smile and wave before offering Tommy a salute. “Danny Whizz-Bang reporting, sir.”
You dropped your bag, pointing at the man and looking between him and Tommy. “You’re supposed to be dead.” 
Tommy nodded, “at ease. What are you doing here, Danny?”
“Charlie said to try here if you weren’t at your place,” he said before taking a seat. Tommy offered him the bottle of whiskey and he poured himself a drink. 
“So no one is gonna explain the very alive friend of yours sitting at my kitchen table?” you asked, still unsure what was going on. 
Tommy took a deep breath before running his hand through his hair. “It was a trick to fool the Italians. Danny’s been living in London, keeping an ear out. Apparently, there’s news he couldn’t wait on.”
“I was in a pub,” Danny began, gripping the edge of his hat in his hands. “It’s called the Mother Redcap, an Irish pub. I was talking to some old bloke about Birmingham. He said there’s been trouble. An IRA man shot. He said a lot, but the only bit I heard was that their high command think it’s the Peaky Blinders who shot him. I came up on the next boat to warn you.”
“I heard about that guy,” you said softly. “It was outside of the Black Swan. Was it one of the men you met with the other day?”
Tommy nodded.
You thought about the way Grace had eavesdropped on the men, and how she’d been so interested on where they were from. Your brain ticked that there was a connection there, but you brushed it aside on the grounds that you were just searching for something to be horribly wrong with her. While you believed she still had some kind of secret, you didn’t think she’d go as far as shooting someone. 
You looked down at your own hands, a vision of blood covering them from your own dirty deeds, and knowing that anything was possible. 
“Is it true?” Danny asked, pulling your attention back to the men in front of you. 
“No,” Tommy answered, taking a deep breath. “But lies travel faster than the truth.” He thought for a moment before gesturing toward Danny. “Get a message to them. Tell them to send someone to parley. Tell them there’s been a misunderstanding and we don’t want any trouble.”
Danny swallowed the rest of his drink before rising. He saluted Tommy again, then gave you a slight bow. “I will do my duty, sir. Ma’am.”
He left before you could ask anything more. “Tommy, what the hell—“
“Just another thing to add to the list,” he said, shaking his head as he grabbed his own glass and threw it back. “Right now, our focus is on Kimber. And tomorrow is Cheltenham. We’ve gotta be ready.”
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>> next chapter: coming soon << chapter masterlist
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xoxoluka · 2 days
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ᴄʟᴀᴅᴅᴀɢʜ
jschlatt x streamer!reader
summary: you wear the same ring every day, every stream, in the same direction. your fans notice one day that the direction of it changed.
warnings: swearing, not a very descriptive fic
a/n: for those not familiar with claddagh rings, they are rings from Irish culture that are most commonly used to show your status. right ring finger upside down means single, right ring finger right side up means taken. look into them if you are still confused or would consider buying one <3
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gummygone: what's the ring say today???
CelestialCat: SHOW US THE RING
alwaysstar: what are we today
"chat," you giggle, holding up the upside down ring on your finger for the camera to see. "it's the same thing today, i promise. nothing's changing anytime soon."
the chat was flooded with 'aww's and 'why not's and crying emojis, making you laugh again. your audience had a nightly routine before the end of stream where they would bug you about your relationship status, especially since you wore it so freely on your hand.
you got used to giving them disappointing news, although you were hoping that you'd be able to tell them something else very soon.
you end stream soon after your nightly conversation with the chat, and stand up from your desk to close down your office and get ready for bed. once fully showered, washed, and clothed, you got a text as you were plugging in your phone.
'you looked good tonight, toots.'
you smile, biting your lip subconsciously.
'you saw?' you respond, laying back on your bed as you held your phone up.
'of course i did. i could never pass up seeing your face.'
you turn red at his flirtatious words. 'you can see it in person tomorrow, if you're up for it.'
'absolutely.'
you stay up for nearly another hour talking to Jay, making plans to meet up for lunch tomorrow.
you enter the small coffee shop, the warm atmosphere surrounding you and comforting you immediately. you spot your date and give him a wave, rushing over to meet him.
"i missed you," you say as you smile, sitting in the chair across from him.
"'missed you too," Jay smiles back, pushing a plate and a cup towards you. "i ordered your favorite, i hope you don't mind." he spoke in a tone that told you he knew you weren't going to mind either way.
"how could i?" you respond playfully. "thank you."
you banter lightly back and forth for a while, until you notice Jay pause, an unfamiliar glint of hesitation in his eyes. it goes away quickly, allowing him to speak confidently.
"you know," he starts. "we've been doing this for a few months now, right?"
"like.. going on dates and stuff? yeah, i'd say so," you nod, taking a sip of your drink.
"so then.. how'd you like to make it official? about time, right?" he asks, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.
you sit up in surprise, but a smile breaks onto your face anyway. "yeah! yeah, i'd like that."
"jesus christ, dude," you exclaim, jerking the plastic steering wheel to the side, evading the car that you had drifted too closely too in-game. you were playing truck driving simulator tonight, which was one of your (and your audience's) favorites. it was late, so your real-life self and in-game self were both entirely too tired to be driving a truck.
as you took a moment to yawn, you glanced at chat, noticing a few standalone comments about your ring. you quickly readjusted yourself, pretending like you hadn't just read the comments, and continued to drive. 'as long as they don't all see it...'
you hadn't realized that the way you drive had your ring fully on display, you right hand on top of the steering wheel as your left supported the bottom. a keen eye would've noticed the difference, but hopefully not all of the eyes. you quickly finished up the level, parking the truck and gaining the money and XP. you paused the music and closed the game window, bringing your facecam back to fullscreen. you noticed the usual ring comments, and the few people who had noticed the difference.
"oh, man, chat. i totally forgot to put my ring on this morning," you lie, slipping the ring off with just one hand strategically. "but i'm telling you it's the same. no changes." you'd never been a good liar, the tips of your ears going slightly red, your face flushing, and your small laughs as you spoke.
TheyCallMeDawg: yeah okay buddy
"woah, woah, chat, what's with the attitude tonight?" you jokingly ask after reading that comment. "y'all are crazy, go to bed." you say your final goodbyes to the stream for the night and do your nightly routine. although, tonight, you were going to text Jay first.
'they totally know.'
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not rlly a fan, but it was for fun
lmk what you think! <3
© property of xoxoluka. do not repost.
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itsmealaiah · 2 days
Text
"not exactly"
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TW: making out, drunk kissing, profanity, mentions of homophobia, assigned male at birth reader, tongue-kissing, he/him pronouns, alcohol use
Request: Hear me out. Bill and an m!reader who are at an after party with the rest of the band, and are secretly just waiting to get drunk enough to where they can make out and blame it on the alcohol. And I mean like PASSIONATE making out, like bill is on reader’s lap and they’re just shoving their tongues down eachothers throats… BUT pictured get leaked and at a band interview the interviewer asks and they’re just like “uhm- uh- we were drunk.” LIKE NO SHIT Anyway, love the work💕
Rating: 18+, mature themes ahead.
WC: 0.7k
Pairing: bill kaulitz x m! reader
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"Can I get a whiskey sour?"
You asked the bartender, three drinks lying by your arm on the bar as you felt a little buzzed, but other than that you were doing fine. You smiled as he made the drink and placed it in front of you, downing the alcohol within seconds, slamming it back down onto the counter.
You were at an after-party with the band, celebrating the end of another successful concert and another successful night. The place chosen, by tom of course, was a club with plenty of female entertainment. It didn't quite intrigue you though, your interests set...somewhere else.
A tall man with black hair and a sexy voice, to be more detailed.
You had loved him since day one, he was so kind and sweet to everyone, always treating the person he was with carefully with the utmost respect.
It made you head over heels for him, but you weren't sure if he reciprocated the feelings you had. He was so nice to you, but he tended to seem more interested in women than he was with yourself.
You didn't mind, until tonight, where he sat all alone, sipping on a drink while his brother was getting grinded on by some hooker, smiling drunkenly in pleasure.
You turned your barstool around and hopped off, making your way through the sweaty, dancing crowd over to him, and plopping down on the seat next to him, his eyes darting to you as you caressed his thigh. "hey billy"
you purred in his ear, nibbling on his earlobe as he blushed profusely. 'h-hi y/n" he stuttered nervously.
your hand drifted away from his thigh, going up to his semi-hard crotch and you began to rub it through his black jeans, grinning wickedly as you saw his body jerk and his eyes role backwards.
"how are you?" you asked, his lips wide open sluttily as his eyes closed from the pleasure. "g-good" he murmured, his cock now fully hard. "mm, that's nice to hear" you whispered sensually, palming his cock faster as he moaned.
you brought your lips to his, the softness meeting yours as you made out with him, still rubbing on his poor dick :(
he moaned into your mouth, allowing your tongue to slip in and roam around his mouth, pressing your lips further into his, wrapping your hand around his waist, holding him close
"haah" he struggled to keep up with the kisses, being too close to bliss to be bothered.
His release was fast approaching, his moans more desperate and throaty as your mouth left his, leaving a gentle kiss on his shoulder as you bit gently, causing him to cum in his pants as he shook.
"y-y/n" "yes billy?" "c-can we go back to your house?"
then yall fucked nastily 😝
The next day the five of you were seated at an interview, smiling as the fans cheered for tom and bill the most.
The interviewer greeted you all with a joyful face, and pulled the cards from the table, and asked you a few, concerning the band's next concert, where the next tour was going to be, and about tom's sex life.
After those questions, his gaze drifted to you, and you met his eyes with confusion. you weren't usually asked questions being the vocalist.
"so y/n, i heard you had a little fun last night" he winked to you and bill, and you flushed, immediately denying the statement as the rest of the band looked intrigued.
you laughed, trying to play it off. "i'm not sure what you're talking about" you attempted to lighten the air.
"are you sure?" the interviewer pressed. "can we pull up the pictures?" he asked and soon, the scenes of your escapade at the club were displayed for everyone.
you glanced over at them, and then at bill, who was hiding his face, his cheeks flushed dark red.
"do you know what i'm talking about now?"
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Taglist: @madzandmore @20doozers @tomscumdump @tomssexdoll @billslittlewhore @charliesgoodboy
Comment to be tagged!
Requests are open! keep sending them in!
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sleepypanda27 · 13 hours
Text
Bucky's Crush
Bucky x reader
Summary: Sam is tired of Bucky not doing anything to get the girl he likes. So he helps out a bit.
Words: 710
Warnings: Cute and nervous Bucky
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It was an early morning in the compound. Sam was telling Bucky some story of his adventures, but that turned into white noise when he saw you walking into the kitchen. Still in your pajama and unbrushed, messy hair. You walked to the mug cupboard and stretched, yawning.
"Want some coffee?" Bucky asked with a smile in his voice.
"Yes, please." You leaned against the kitchen island, watching Bucky intently as he made you coffee. Who knew that making coffee could be so sexy?
"Good morning, by the way." He said in a little raspy voice from sleep.
"Hi, good morning." You blushed, tucking hair behind your ear, and smiled awkwardly, hoping he didn't notice you staring at him.
"There you go." His eyes were locked with yours as he gave you a cup with steam coming from it.
"Thank you, Bucky." Inhaling the delicious scent, you thanked him.
"You're welcome, doll." He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. Subtly, his eyes traveled up and down your body, making you blush again. You went back to your room, thinking you should try to blush less in Bucky's presence.
Bucky shook his head with a smile and looked at Sam, who was staring at him. "What?"
"Seriously?"
"What?" Bucky didn't understand what was his problem.
"I was talking to you, dude."
"I heard you."
"Okay then. What was the last thing you heard?"
"Ummm...that you like seeds and breadcrumbs." Bucky shrugged.
"Ugh, just ask her out already." Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed.
"I will..." Bucky looked into the hallway you went to just seconds ago. "Someday."
Sam had arranged a movie night, making you and Bucky sit together. It was all highly suspicious because you three were the only people there.
Bucky's musky cologne mixed with the faded scent of the leather jacket he had worn earlier, lingered on his hoodie. You had to fight against the urge to just melt into your seat.
He pretended to yawn, stretching his arms in the air, and placing his arm around your shoulders, gauging your reaction. Naturally, you moved closer to his side. He had to bite his cheeks to stop the smile from turning too big.
Sam bailed pretty early, knowing that if you two were left alone, you would feel more free and open up.
After a while, you stood up, and Bucky thought 'Well, this is it, he went too far too soon.' But you only took a blanket and then returned to your seat by his side. This time, snuggling even closer to him.
His mind reeled with all kinds of different thoughts. All of them included you. He wondered did he remembered how to kiss. Can you even forget something like that? Now, he went too far and was overthinking.
You could feel and hear his relentless heartbeat, or maybe it was yours you couldn't quite tell.
You couldn't take the tension anymore. You spun around so fast that you startled both of you. Placing your hand softly on his nape, you slowly leaned closer, giving him a chance to stop this, but instead, he closed the distance. As soon as your lips met, it was like he forgot all of his previous worries.
Bucky couldn't hide the smile anymore and he didn't want to. Feeling the dog tags around his neck, you wrapped the silver chain around your fingers, tugging him to you while lying back on the couch. Which he gladly followed.
After a while, Bucky pulled away from you, looking to the side, where Sam was slowly and carefully creeping to the place where he was sitting earlier.
Noticing that he's caught, Sam stopped. "Don't mind me, I just forgot my phone. He quickly run after the phone. "Carry on." He shot you both a smile and left.
Laughing, you hid your face in your palms from embarrassment. Bucky chuckled, gently taking your hands off your face. "You are so damn cute, doll."
Now you were blushing even harder.
Bucky turned off the TV and, easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your squeal turned into giggles. "Where are we going?"
"To my room." He smiled, "So we can watch the movie and make out without interruption."
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ghoulishneeds · 11 hours
Text
✦Double Feature ✦
Cooper Howard x F! Reader
Cw: dubcon, violence ig, uh blood, piv, skullfucking, restraints, knife (briefly), choking, hair pulling
Summary: You’ve been picked up by Cooper and he intends to sell you for a bounty. (Plot if you squint)
WC: 2.6k+ (I went a little over board)
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Ask: can you do something for cooper being rough
((Oh boy can I.))
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You squint against the sun, raising a hand to shield your eyes from it. Pain thrumming in your right shoulder. Your eyes adjust in time to catch the brown leather of his boot before it collides with your jaw.
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You’d been running your mouth all day.
Every time he’d fuckin moved, you’d had something to say about it. You weren’t sure if it was the constant, close proximity to each other, the unforgiving heat, or the knowledge he was about to sell you for a bounty, but everything was getting under your skin. You hated the desert. Hated him. You hated his cocky, fuck-em all attitude. Hated that the way he looked at you set your fucking blood on fire.
He’d barely spoken the entire journey, yet any time he did, you couldn’t swallow back some shitty little retort you’d had ready.
Up till this point, you’d maintained some level of feigned compliance. To a point, a part of you liked pissing him off. But, you knew who he was. The Ghoul. A fucking legend in the Wasteland. A killer.
But today you had felt braver. Or maybe the heat had just baked off the rest of your common sense.
He’d already told you to shut up once. And you had, for a small while. But his pace was slowing down, and the wheezing cough, signifying it was time for his next Rad-away dose, echoed back off the crumbling building along the roadway.
You had watched him fumble through his bag and had found it almost amusing. The most dangerous man in the Wasteland was one missed dose away from falling apart. It was ironically humanizing.
You watched him desperately consume the Rad-away and he stood straight again. You made it all of five steps before you found yourself laughing. When it echoed back to you it sounded hollow and mean in your own ears.
He’d stopped so suddenly you collided with him. Bracing your hands against his back for stability.
Your heart rate jumped. You could quite literally feel the mistake settling over you. When you looked up at him, he was glaring at you over his shoulder, eyes whiskey brown in the sun.
You hesitated before the step back, pulling your hands away from him. “I-“
Cooper turned to face you. The tension in the air was making it hard for you to breathe. You took another step back.
“Darlin’ I’ve told you once to shut your fuckin mouth haven’t I?” His voice was low and honeyed. Your pulse jumped again. He stepped in closer, eyes burning into yours. Your mouth was impossibly dry, chest rising and falling rapidly.
He looked at you expectantly. Was he waiting for a response? “…yes” You dropped your eyes.
“And here you are, still runnin that fuckin mouth.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head in exaggerated disappointment.
He’d hit you fast and hard, knocking you off your feet, your shoulder collided with the ground painfully.
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Your head is reeling after the kick, you struggle to focus your eyes again. He’s crouching over you, hands resting on his knees. He watches you with this intense, heated look while you push yourself up onto your elbows. As you try to catch your breath, you can feel the heat radiating off of him, making the air around you almost unbearable. You look up at him, your heart racing in your chest, and suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation. You were lucky he hadn't killed you yet.
"I don't like repeatin myself sweetheart." He says it almost sweetly. "If you can't keep that pretty mouth shut, how bout I keep it busy."
You swallow hard, feeling the words settle around you. His gaze is intense, like a branding iron searing into you. You know you have to say something, but your mind goes blank. “I-“
You know what he's implying, you're not stupid. The tension between the two of you had been building for too long, and this had been the boiling point.
Your eyes follow him as he stands up. He grabs you by the elbow and half drags you up into a kneeling position. When you try to fully stand, he presses his hand into your sore shoulder and pushes you back down. You look up at him, shame rolling over you. Your cunt is throbbing in time with your aching head now. He smirks down at you, unhitching the lasso from his hip. You watch as he loops it around his hand, the leather of his glove creaking slightly as he tightens it.
He steps in behind you, roughly pulling your arms behind your back. He pulls your wrists tight together, putting strain on your shoulders, and loops the rope around them. The rough rope burns against your tender skin, but you can't help the wave of arousal that rolls through you.
You feel him step back, releasing the pressure on your wrists. You try to pull your arms free, but they're tied tightly together. You can feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin. You turn your head slightly, looking over your shoulder at him.
He staring down at you, a hungry predatory look in his eyes. You swallow hard. A different kind of heat settling in your core. He steps back around, in front of you. "You ain't got anything to say now honey?" He asks, voice dripping with sarcasm. You meet his eyes indignantly.
Your heart is racing as you spit at him. Panic and arousal mixing into something primal in your blood.
He laughs, not bothering to wipe the spit away. Grabbing your face tight enough to make your jaw ache, he pulls you towards his crotch, his other hand fisting in the hair above your neck. "Can't tell if you're brave or stupid." He holds your gaze for a moment. “But I'd lay money on stupid."
He lets go of your face and undoes his belt, briefly fumbling one-handedly with the buckle. He audibly groans when his cock springs free. He's already hard, shiny pre-cum smearing the tip. Saliva floods your mouth and you look up at him again.
His expression is almost unreadable, aside from the fire in his eyes. He moves his free hand to his hip and unsheathes a jagged hunting knife. Your pulse quickens to a panicked rate, breath coming in sharp pants. “See this here sugar, is a serrated blade.” His voice is low and rough. “It doesn’t just slice,” he presses the blade against your cheek “it tears.”
Hot panic almost makes you drool as you watch him resheath it. “I’m tellin you once, don’t you go thinkin about biting.”
Your eyes meet his again. “Yes sir.” You don’t recognize your own voice, strained and rough. He smirks, clearly pleased with your submission. “Atta girl.”
Cooper’s hand tightens in your hair again, maneuvering you closer to his cock.
“Don't make me tell you what to do darlin’." His voice is a low growl above you. You swallow once and open your mouth obediently.
His fingers sift through your hair, guiding your mouth closer to his cock. As you lower your head, his tip grazes against your lips. You steal a glance at him, he's watching you with a heated gaze. You lean forward, feeling the hot, heavy head of his cock pressing against your tongue. Your eyes widen as you taste the pre-cum on his tip. You slowly start to take him into your mouth, your tongue sliding over the shaft. Coop watches you intently, his eyes darkening as you take him deeper into your mouth. You can feel his fingers tighten in your hair, urging you on. You wrap your lips around him, sucking lightly as you begin to bob your head.
He's been as patient as he's capable of being. He places his free hand alongside the other, on the back of your head. Stepping in closer, he pushes himself further down your throat. You gag, pulling against your bindings. His head drops back and he groans. You try to relax, willing yourself to take more of him. He grips your head and withdraws his cock slowly, before sliding it back down your throat. He quickly sets a rhythm, fucking himself down your throat.
As he continues to thrust his hips, his cock slides in and out of your mouth. You try to keep up with the pace, gagging occasionally but unable to pull away. You can feel the saliva dripping from your chin, mixing with his pre-cum. You can tell he’s close. His thrusts are sharper, shallower. You try to swallow around him and the constriction makes him groan. You can’t ignore the throbbing between your legs.
Your hips keen forward, against nothing while he buries himself in your throat. You feel him tense up as he nears his climax. His grip in your hair tightens, and he growls low in his throat. He pulls you forward, pushing himself as far as he can down your throat. He's so far down your throat, you don't taste it when he cums.
He hesitates for a moment before he withdraws his cock and you cough as he takes a step back, throat feeling raw and used.
He lets out a low whistle. "That mouth is good for somethin after all huh." He's smiling. You're panting and staring up at him. The taste of him lingers in your mouth, making you feel uncomfortably aroused. You glance away, trying to find some semblance of control. Cooper chuckles, a dark sound that makes your pussy ache. Your hips push forward again, almost subconsciously. The motion doesn't go unnoticed.
He smirks and tuts "My my, I must say I almost think you're due some kinda reward for that darlin." He leans forward smiling again, and presses the toe of his boot against your crotch.
You whine, a high pitched, pathetic sound. He chuckles again. "Oh I like that sound a whole lot better."
You feel a wave of shame wash over you, but you can't help the response to his touch. He leans down, his lips close to your ear.
"You know what? I think I'll make it a double feature for you today."
He licks a long stripe from your collarbone to just below your jaw. He bites you, hard. You aren't expecting it and the pain is shocking. But fuck it feels kind of good? You gasp, grinding yourself against his boot. He runs his tongue over the now broken skin and growls. It's a low animalistic noise that brings on a new wave of need.
He abruptly stands, grabbing ahold of your bound wrists and roughly turning you away from him. He briefly pulls you back to him, rutting his cock against you. His breath is hot against your ear. "Gunna be good for me?" His voice is rough against your ear and your back arches. He slides his hand around your throat, establishing a good grip. "Hm?" It was almost a purr. After several laborious breaths you whimper out a "Yes sir."
He smirks, pleased with your response. "Good girl." He shoves you down, pressing your face against the sand. He hooks an arm under your stomach, heaving you onto your knees. After a moment he, albeit somewhat awkwardly, gets your pants off.
You almost sigh as the cooler air hits your burning core. "Whew. Look. At. That." He punctuates each word with a smack to your wet pussy. You're not sure when he took his gloves off but the rough texture of his hand swatting your cunt makes you gasp and jerk away from him. He laughs and drags you back towards him by your wrists.
He slides a finger through your wet folds and exhales roughly. You’re embarrassingly wet. Slick gathering at your entrance and threatening to run down your thigh. “Downright sloppy.” You can hear the smirk in his voice and your face burns with embarrassment.
Teasing your clit briefly, before pushing two fingers into you. He exhales between his teeth, almost a hiss. The ghoul withdraws his fingers and quickly lines himself up at your entrance. He slides himself through your folds, rubbing the head of his cock over your clit before he thrusts himself into you.
He wastes no time in setting a brutal pace, allowing you no time to adjust to the size of him. A strained whine escapes you, your hands twitching in the grip he has on your wrists. His hand cracks down on your ass cheek, you bite back a whine.
You feel his hand squeeze your ass, and he leans down, pressing his weight over you. "That's it, darlin. Take it. Take what I got for you." His voice is like honey, coating your senses and making you feel weak in the knees. You hold back the moan threatening to peel its way out of you at his words.
He’s getting frustrated with your borderline silence. “Now sweetheart, you were so ready to run your mouth earlier.” He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you back against him.
“Let me hear somethin.” You gasp as he pulls you back, the sting in your scalp making your eyes water. You try to swallow past the lump in your throat, but the words won't come. He growls low in his throat, a mix of frustration and desire. He continues to thrust into you, his hips slamming against you in a brutal rhythm.
You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the stinging pain in your scalp and the burn of his thrusts. His other hand comes to rest on your cheek, pushing your head to the side so he can bite down on your neck.
The noise you make is something between a moan and a scream. His thrusts slow into a grinding roll that makes your eyes roll back. He moves to the other side of your neck and repeats the action and elicits a similar sound. "Mm that's my girl." Your back arches at his words.
He pulls back and picks his pace back up. His thrusts are becoming jerky and faster. Cooper leans over you, snaking an arm around you. His fingers find your clit and he slips his fingers over it in fast circles. You moan and try to push yourself back against him. You feel him slam into you, his hips driving against you in quick, hard thrusts. The feeling of his rough hands on your body mixed with the brutal pounding is overwhelming. You gasp for air, trying to ignore the sting of his bites as they mix with the ache in your body.
.
Your eyes roll back as the pleasure becomes almost overwhelming. You're close. His fingers pick up pace on your clit and he dotes a few particularly hard thrusts on you.
Heat floods your mind as your orgasm hits you, walls spasming around his cock. "Ha, fuck, that's it darlin'."
His pace stutters, his thrusts becoming sporadic and almost frantic.
"Fuck, gunna-" is the only warning you get before he cums, pulling you back against him hard.You feel the hot rush of him filling you up and groan.
His weight presses down on you, his breathing ragged as he tries to catch his breath. Struggling to catch your own, you note that you're still tied up. Cooper leans back, still almost panting, and pulls the knife out again. He cuts the rope loose and stands up.
As you lie there, taking in deep breaths, trying to recover from all of that, Cooper sheaths his knife and gives you a smug, satisified look.
You eventually get to your feet and redress yourself.
"Better get some rest darlin, we've got quite a bit of ground to cover tomorrow."
You look at him questioningly.
He smirks, a look of dark amusement settling in his eyes. "What? You didn't think you was off the hook for bein a good fuck?" He laughs, it sounds similar to your own, earlier laugh.
"Man's gotta make a livin sweetheart."
The sinking realization that you’re still being sold for a bounty hits you.
Maybe you’ll be able to get your way out of it.
64 notes · View notes
pennylanefics · 3 days
Text
Nighttime Comfort - Seth Jarvis
a/n: thanks to @human-trainwreck for the idea of the "best friend's younger brother" trope! i got the idea and ran with it and finish this in one night <3 if anyone has more seth ideas, send them my way! i had more ideas and definitely missed some things...part 2 maybe?? 👀
summary: you've always seen your best friend's little brother as just that, until one night, after thinking about him for months, everything changes when he comforts you after nightmares
warnings: mention of nightmares (no descriptions), slight age gap (i envisioned seth being 22 and reader being 23 or 24, so not terrible, but it's brought up multiple times)
word count: ~4.2k
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“Seth should be gone by the time we get home, so you won’t have to deal with him while I’m out,” your best friend Daisy says to you as you near her home. The two of you had been out shopping all day, finally having time to spend with each other after your hectic schedules failed to line up for so long.
With your job at a local publishing company and the influx of demands your boss needed to meet the proper deadlines, and her traveling with her boyfriend, who is a hockey player in the NHL, it was hard to meet up. But finally, now that the off-season is here and your work has slowed down some, you could meet up and catch up on all the lost time.
“You know I don’t mind him,” you tell her. “He’s fun to be around.” She rolls her eyes at your words and you can’t help but laugh.
You grew up next to Daisy and Seth in Winnipeg and as time went on, you and Daisy became nearly inseparable, doing everything together and playing in each other’s backyards every day after school. That also led you to becoming rather close with her younger brother, only two years younger than you and her, but he was always around as their parents practically forced Daisy to include him.
Not that you minded, he was very amusing and a great joy; he was extremely chaotic and energetic, and was always trying to get you to laugh and mess with you in a teasing and fun way. Daisy was so embarrassed by him every time, but you truly weren’t bothered by it. 
Things changed a little right before you entered high school. During the summer between eighth grade and ninth, your family moved away, although it was still in the same district and within driving distance, no more than fifteen minutes. It did hinder your ability to see her and Seth outside of school or on the weekends. Things did go back to normal when you and Daisy got your licenses and could see each other whenever.
As the years went on, things continued to change and shift. With Seth going into the NHL, and Daisy becoming a WAG for the Winnipeg Jets, you rarely had time to see them over the past couple of years, but through different interviews and videos of him from the Hurricanes and other media, you could tell Seth was still the same guy you grew up with and knew so well.
“I haven’t seen him in a while anyway. I think the last time was around Christmas, when he came home. That was almost seven months ago.”
“Believe me, seven months is not enough time away from him,” she grumbles, making you throw your head back in laughter.
He was always the life of the party. He could light up a room with his energy and sweet smile just by walking into it, and he’s cheered you up countless times after numerous events that upset you over the years.
And you didn’t want to believe it, but deep down, you always felt something more for him. Some little voice in your mind was screaming that he’s a sweetheart and would be an incredible partner. But you pushed that idea down for many reasons, one of which is because you figured he never would see you as anything more than his older sister’s best friend; it was an unspoken rule, really, and neither of you wanted to cross that line.
The two of you drag your number of bags into her house, where you were staying for the week since her parents were on vacation and your apartment was being renovated because of a flood issue on your floor.
“Just set them down and we can go through everything when I get back,” she states.
She needed to run an errand with her boyfriend, to check on his grandmother about an hour away and bring her the prescription she needed. That meant you would be alone for the next three hours or so, and after the long day you had, it was exactly what you needed.
She left shortly after dropping everything off, and in the meantime, you showered and then ordered some food. Everything in the house was calm, you were watching your favorite TV show on the TV, and it felt peaceful to have this kind of downtime after a full, busy day.
But that peace was quickly ruined an hour or so later. The time rolled around to 7:45 and in comes Seth and a couple guys, who you recognize as fellow players on the Hurricanes. Turning around, you stare at them, wide-eyed in surprise, and as soon as Jarvy takes the sight of you in, he shouts excitedly.
“Oh my god! What are you doing here?!” He yells, running over to you on the couch. Standing, you jump into his arms to hug him tightly, inhaling the musky scent of his cologne, a smell you’ve thought about every day since you got a whiff of it on Christmas. 
“My apartment is being worked on and since Daisy and I haven’t had time to see one another very much, she invited me to stay here. I know she said you are back here for a short while, but she said you’d be out.”
“What, not so happy to see me??” He teases, shoving your shoulder playfully once you pull away from the hug. “Yeah, well, the guys and I wanted to go to some bars, but after sitting around we decided to come back here and play video games instead.” He points to the two men behind him, one who has blond hair and piercing blue eyes and one has short brown hair and deep brown eyes.
“This is Jack and Jesperi, or you can call him KK,” he points to the brown-eyed hockey player, who smiles sweetly at you and waves.
“Nice to meet you guys. I can move up to Daisy’s room if you’d prefer the living room. She’s still gone and I don’t know when she’ll be back.”
“Oh no, don’t worry about that!” Jarvy stops you from moving your things. “We’re going to the basement to play, we won’t bother you at all. Unless we have to come back up for snacks and drinks, but we’ll try to keep it down.”
Chuckling softly, you nod and watch as they file into the furnished basement, yelling and shouting as they go. Thankfully, the noise wasn’t too loud to distract you, so you go back to watching your show with no worry.
As the hours tick by and your eyes start growing heavier, you knew you should have headed up to Daisy’s room to get some rest instead of on the couch, although their couch was rather comfy. It was a large sectional, big enough to fit their entire family for movie nights.
You were curled up in one corner of the L-shaped section, under a soft, fuzzy blanket that was keeping you warm. The low lighting that you had set in the living room and with the quiet lull of your comfort TV show was enough to ease you to sleep, though you were unaware.
Suddenly, you are jolting up, your neck feeling slightly sweaty and clammy, your breathing slightly erratic and your eyes trying to adjust back to the bright TV that remained on. Slowly, you become aware of your surroundings and turn to find Seth sitting near you, a worried expression on his face.
“Are you alright?” He wonders, his voice low and calming, not wanting to startle you anymore than he has. “You were mumbling something in your sleep and shaking a little.”
Your hand wipes across your face as you shift your body to sit up a little. Being in the moment, you were finally able to get a really good look at Seth, since earlier you were too taken by the excitement of seeing him and meeting new people.
His hair was long in the back, but on the sides, you could tell that he had recently gotten them shaved down some, but the top section flopped over to hide that area; it was something that was visible when he wore a hat, and it was a look you always liked. His facial hair was newly trimmed, his beard slightly scruffy and his mustache somewhat full.
He was wearing an old Canes t-shirt, the neckline cut off to fit him loosely, and a pair of basketball shorts that were slightly smaller than usual, riding up his leg and showing a small glimpse of the tattoo on his right thigh.
“I-I was having a weird dream,” you murmur, taking a couple deep breaths. Seth moves a little closer, sensing all you needed was some comfort. “What time is it?”
“Around 11:30. Daisy called me and said something came up and she won’t able to make it back tonight. She said she tried calling you but you weren’t answering. Now I see why,” he answers with a lighthearted laugh.
“Yeah, I didn’t mean to fall asleep out here. I should head upstairs.”
Seth thinks for a moment before he holds his hand up, silently telling you to stay put.
“Give me two minutes,” he says before darting off. You sat there, confused as hell as he ran up the stairs, leaving you alone once again.
You quickly text Daisy back, letting her know you had fallen asleep and everything was good, and that you’d see her in the morning, before reaching for the glass of water that had been left untouched for the past few hours and taking a large sip. 
Minutes later, Seth comes trudging down the stairs with his comforter and an extra blanket, along with two pillows. He also had a change of clothes for himself, and once he reaches the couch, he piles everything onto the cushions at your feet.
“We’re having a little sleepover,” he states. “My sister ditched you so I’m stepping in. Plus we haven’t spent time together in a long time so we have to make up for it.” He winks and laughs at your shocked face.
“You really don’t have to do this. What about KK and Jack? Aren’t they downstairs?”
“Nope. They left right before you woke up. They’re staying in a hotel nearby so they’re gone for the night. Just you and me.” 
After he gets everything set up, he runs off to the bathroom down the hall to change and when he returns in a pair of sweats and a different t-shirt, he sighs heavily and stares down at the couch.
“Okay, so I’ll sleep this way, and you can sleep with your legs out that way so you have more room,” he tells you, waving his hands all over. He specifically pointed to the spot you were sitting in, how he’d have his legs on the cushions jutting out and you would sleep perpendicular to him.
“Where would my pillow go?” You wonder, grabbing onto the extra one he had from his bed. You can’t help but smile at the scent that covers it, a mixture of Seth’s shampoo and conditioner and his cologne. His comforter was the same way, soaked in the smell of his body wash, a woods-y and earthy scent that you were most familiar with, similar to his cologne.
“Here,” he gets situated on the couch, his legs stretching straight out on the cushion. He places the pillow down on his legs and pats it, signaling that’s where you can lay. It was nothing out of the ordinary, really, the three of you used to sleep on each other like this when you were younger, more innocent.
Not that he was asking in an inappropriate way now, but it was something you figured you’d grown out of. But being too tired and too scared to fight, you just laugh it off and get under the covers. He left his comforter for you and used the two blankets for himself, something you found unfair to him.
You place your head in his lap, against the pillow, and immediately, his hands start playing with your hair softly, making sure not to tug at any knots that he couldn’t see. He was more so twirling the ends for his own comfort, something you picked up on when you were kids.
After laying there for a bit, no words spoken between the two of you, the guilt of him being down here, keeping you company was rising in your chest; you knew you shouldn’t have felt this way, but he didn’t have to do all of this.
“Seth, you don’t have to sit down here with me,” you suddenly sit up, looking over at him. A hurt and confused look crosses his face as he adjusts his body.
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to, trust me. I know how you used to struggle with nightmares and no one should be left alone after having one.” His voice is gentle and soothing, trying to get across the fact that he wants to be here with you, and it’s no obligation or issue at all.
“I think I’ll be okay,” you whisper. But he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. 
“Well I’m not leaving,” he shakes his head. “What’s going on? I thought it would be nice to see each other again and be with one another now that you’re here.”
You pause and let his words sink in. He was right. Why were you pushing back? But with one look into his brown eyes, lit by the soft glow of a nearby salt lamp you had turned on earlier, you were very aware.
You had fallen for Jarvy and now there was no denying it.
You think back to the last time you saw him, in December. You couldn’t quit stealing glances at him throughout the day, watching as he laughed with his loved ones and how bright his unique smile was, how much you loved seeing it and how you longed to be the reason he was smiling so joyfully.
How you longed to hold his hand and cuddle up next to him on the couch, watching whatever Christmas movie was playing on the TV, surrounded by your family and his, having him press kisses to your temple.
It made your chest feel all warm and fuzzy thinking about what being his partner would be like. Was he serious in times when it was needed? Or did he used humor and laughter to cope with everything?
“(Y/N)?” He waves his hand in front of your face, bringing you back down to earth. You sigh softly and grin at him.
“Sorry, was just…thinking about something. But you’re right, it is nice to see you and be able to spend time with just you…” you trail off, hoping the tone of your voice didn’t give your little crush away. He smiles at you and opens his arms.
“So how about we cuddle instead? I’ve been told I give wonderful cuddles in times of need like this,” he states playfully, which in turn makes you giggle. He gives you that bright, wide smile as you move your body, but before you can super comfortable, you motion for him to switch positions and lay parallel with you, so both of your legs were on the actual couch rather than the sectional.
Since the space was big enough, you both fit rather comfortably, once Seth finally gets settled. You curl into his left side, nuzzling your face into chest, your eyes fluttering closed. What you couldn’t tell was the fact that Seth’s heart was racing in his chest at the turn of events. 
He’s now under his own comforter, your legs tangling with his underneath. His arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, and one is softly rubbing up and down your back underneath the covers. It’s such a sweet and intimate movement, and it makes your own heart beat faster.
Silence falls over the two of you, neither of you knowing what to say, but instead, you enjoy the silence and the presence of each other.
“Would now be an acceptable time to admit that I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time?” He whispers, avoiding moving in case you wanted to pull away from him. But to his surprise, you stay put, reaching for his right hand that was stroking up and down your arm.
“You have?” You wonder, a little taken aback by his admission, threading your fingers with his. He watches in curiosity but smiles as he feels your touch in his.
“Yeah. Ever since you came home from school that one day in eighth grade, I was in sixth. You said some boy made a comment about you and you cried to me because Daisy wasn’t home yet. I-”
“You started telling me all these strange things about what the kid does and how awful he is to try and get me to laugh,” you fill in his sentence, remembering back to that day as clear as can be.
Seth had started telling you weird things that were very obviously not true, but what else is an eleven year old supposed to say? He was making things up like, “he keeps his boogers on a piece of notebook paper in his binder” or “his fingernails grow so fast he has to have them cut every day, and then he saves them to try and get in the Guinness Book of World Records for most amount of nail shavings collected”. Outrageously ridiculous statements.
But by the end, you were laughing with him, forgetting about all the mean things he said about you, and thanks to Jarvy, feeling better about yourself, even though you knew none of what he was saying was true.
“I know we were never super close the way that you and Daisy are, but I could never deny my crush for you. I expected you to think it was weird, considering I’m her younger brother and that’s all I knew I’d be. But goddamn, seeing you again, especially in such a soft and laid-back setting, it’s reignited that feeling.”
You were truly speechless. You had no idea what to say. He really had a crush on you?
“Then I think it’s fair to admit that I also like you, but pushed it away because I thought you only ever saw me as, well, as your older sister’s best friend, I thought it would be weird. But I like you a lot, Seth.”
His hand drops yours and it comes to rest on the side of your face, gently bringing your chin up to look up at him. His eyes were filled with adoration and tenderness as his hand cupped your cheek, careful with the amount of pressure he was using, letting you know you could push him away at any point still.
“So when was the moment you fell for me?” He asks, that crooked smile threatening to break. Heat rises to your cheeks when you realize you don’t have a story similar to his.
“This past holiday season. When you came home for Christmas, I realized quite a few things, and one of them is I can’t deny that I have feelings for you and wish what it would be like to be yours,” you whisper to him, gazing into his eyes. His thumb rubs against the apple of your cheek as you explain your side. He then takes a moment to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and it sends your heart into a frenzy.
“Oh really?” He pushes in a teasing manner. “Like what?”
“Like falling asleep in your arms, but in a more romantic way than platonic way when we were younger. Being able to come up and hug and kiss you whenever, wearing your jersey to your games, knowing that only you and I know that I’m yours and the most important person in the crowd wearing your number.” He can’t help the blush that dusts his cheeks at your last comment. “And I can assume that’s something you’ve thought about plenty of times, right?”
Seth laughs and nods his head, still looking down at you with so much love.
“I won’t lie, I have. And you’d be able to get a WAG playoff jacket, and how adorable you’d look in them.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest as he continues to hold your cheek in his hand.
“You know, my parents always joked with your parents about when we’d get together. And Daisy always shut them down whenever she heard them talk about it because how weird, right? But there was one night, a few years back, right before I was drafted. We were in the backyard, looking up at the stars, and she told me I should go for it with you, if I liked you. How she thought we’d be good together, how I’d treat you right and how you would love me for as I am. I think she could always sense that I liked you more than a friend, but was too scared to say it because you two were friends first, and pretty close.”
You are stunned by his words. You never knew Daisy said that, but to hear that she thought her brother was good enough for you, you knew that this decision, or whatever outcome for tonight was going to be, it was going to be a good choice.
Seth is a good guy, and you’ve seen this for many years. Now, you are seeing him in a different light, one where his smile sends butterflies to your stomach rather than a simple “Daisy’s younger brother is so adorable” kind of way. One where you got to see the fun and excitable, puppy-dog energy side but also his serious and down-to-earth side where he could settle those feelings and be real with you.
“Now that I think about it, around that time she did start trying to push me for gossip on if I thought you were cute or if I was seeing anyone, because she was wanting to set me up with someone. And I’m going to safely bet that it was you.”
He chuckles and then clears his throat, becoming all serious again. But you have one more comment you need to get out.
“I love your smile,” you state. His cheeks redden slightly and your own smile tugs at your lips. “I’m not sure what it is about it, but every time I saw it in an interview, or some fun little video, and especially at Christmas, I can’t help but fall harder and harder each time.”
Your statement elicits that lovely smile from him, but in a more bashful sense, something you never thought you’d see.
“You’re so adorable,” you giggle, reaching up to hold his face in your hand as well. The tension between the two of you was thick, and with your breathing mixing together, you were starting to get dizzy from it all. 
This was all so much.
“Can I…” he starts, but hesitates, trying to gauge the look in your eyes. He takes a deep breath and then continues. “Can I please kiss you now?” 
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you from how he phrases his words. He sounded so desperate but also so careful.
“Please,” you beg quietly, inching your hands into his hair to tug at the locks at the back of his neck to pull him down towards you. Within seconds, your lips meet in a searing but gentle and nervous kiss, both of you testing the waters for now. But when Seth feels you leaning more into it, he deepens it just slightly, not wanting to go too far tonight, but also wanting you to know he’s serious about this and it wasn’t a one-off thing.
The kiss ends much to your dismay when Jarvy pulls back, his forehead resting against yours.
“Go on a date with me,” he all but demands. This elicits a giggle from you before you kiss him once more.
“Of course I will,” you reply, moving down to cuddle back up with him. 
Finally, the two of you were settled in all cozy, no longer on edge and wondering if one thing is going to upset the other. Now that the admission of your feelings was done and over with, the two of you could relax against each other, knowing this meant more than just two friends falling asleep with one another.
With his soft touch running along your back, soothing you to sleep, you were out like a light in minutes, but Jarvy stayed up, watching whatever episode of your show that was on, often looking down at you to make sure you remained asleep. 
He fell asleep not long after, the grin on his face remaining there like it was stuck forever, holding the person he loves most in the world, feeling like he was on cloud nine, knowing life could only get better now that you two had admitted your years-worth of pent up feelings
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the fake date plot | part 8.
Summary: Gryffindors, seventh years, classmates, unrequited love. Just a few things Y/N and James Potter had in common. When a brilliantly dumb plan is hatched the two end up getting something a little different than what they wanted.
Warnings for the Series: oh, this is a slowburn now. Or at least that's the plan.
Pairing: James Potter x reader
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: yeah I know I've been gone for a year... I have no words, my bad
Previous Part | (Series Chapter List)
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Heads turned when you and James walked into the Great Hall laughing as you held a bunch of stuff and he held ten times more in his arms than you did. It took a lot of convincing you but James Potter had money and liked to spend it. Your ideas of currency were very different and to him all this money was like spending only five galleons. So you let him get a bunch of stuff for your birthday. 
James was pleased with himself. Giving gifts to people made him feel so good inside. He hated receiving a bunch of them though, probably because he could have whatever he wanted without question. When you reached the table you set down everything and started laughing as you took the stuff from James so he could sit down as well. 
“Can you believe we both forgot our wands and we were already at Hogsmeade?” 
“That’s a lot of stuff,” Sirius said. 
“Yeah. I couldn’t get this one to stop so I now have a bunch of stuff. Thank Merlin I need it though.” 
Lily cleared her throat. “Are you coming to the party tonight? I mean it’s your birthday after all.” 
“I’m coming. No point in staying in my bed alone just because it’s my birthday.” You turned to look at James, pointing at him. “I do not need a new outfit.” 
He held his hands up in surrender. For the rest of Saturday until the party, you didn’t see James at all. He and Sirius were leading quidditch drills in preparation for their upcoming game. Remus and Peter looked up when you entered their dorm. They were getting used to you just showing up. Remus was about to go back to looking at his scrapbooking project when you shoved an invitation in his face. 
“To Sir Peter and Sir Remus, the girls of dorm room nine would like to invite you to our getting ready event.” 
“Do you do this often?” 
You nodded. “Life’s more fun this way.” 
Without any hesitation, the two agreed to come with you. The girls’ dorm was arranged like theirs. But the decorations threw them for a loop. Bubbles, music, and a very sweet scent colored the air. When the marauders got ready for a party, the most they’d do is play music. This was basically a whole new world. They were pushed into fancy skincare and a scalding shower with water from the depths of hell. 
“Remus, how is your hair dry already? I wish I had your porosity.” 
“My what?” 
Mary laughed. “Porosity. It’s just your hair type, never mind. Are we all ready to go?” 
Your rather large group took your time heading down to the Slytherin dungeons. Even though you guys didn’t get along very well, Gryffindors and Slytherins were always invited to each other’s parties. The bass of the music could be heard from outside the common room. You couldn’t help but laugh at Regulus and Sirius already bickering, both with an empty cup in their hands. They had started making up but obviously it took some time and they were still brothers after all. Friendly bickering was in their dna. 
You spotted James on the couch… talking to Xeno. Taking in a deep breath, you went over anyway. Your boyfriend turned his head first, smiling as you came over. The blond boy next to him was slightly stunned. Your outfit was a dress, with lots of skin exposed. You wanted to adjust but chose not to. The literal climax of your plan was happening tonight and you still wanted it to feel as real as possible. James looked good sitting on the couch and everyone noticed as they snuck glances while doing their own thing. It was the collar of a shirt peeking out under the rolled up sleeves of his quidditch jumper and the rips in his jeans. He has to do it on purpose and is aware of what he looks like. 
James extended an arm and his hand fell on your waist as he pulled you closer. “Hi, bug.” 
You sat on his lap and laid your head on his shoulder trying to ignore the piercing eyes from the boy you actually cared about. But you had to. Looking desperate for Xeno wasn’t the way to win him. James wrapped his arms around you while you held his drink for him, not bothering with getting one for yourself. 
“What up?” 
“Tired,” you said with a sigh. 
“You just got here.” 
That seemed to draw the attention of all your friends who were hoping you wouldn’t leave. Even if you were all doing your own thing separately, everyone still needed to be there. James covered your body as you wiggled around trying to get comfortable. Without a second thought, you pulled down the sleeves of his quidditch jumper. He laughed as he realized what you wanted. 
“I know but I was up really late and I kind of have a headache now.” 
“You do?” James asked in earnest. 
“A bit.” 
“You don’t have to stay. We can cancel all our plans tonight if you want to get some rest.” 
The tone of James’ voice made you look up at him. There was no playfulness in his eyes. He was very serious about everything. You gave him a smile. 
“I don’t want to cancel our plans. I’ll just take a nap here and then I’ll feel better.” 
“Okay. Accio, headphones.” 
James handed them to you. Music was already playing, at a very quiet volume, when you put them on. You figured they must have been connected to an enchanted music player. Adjusting yourself once more, you leaned back against your boyfriend with a smile and closed your eyes. Your friends swooned as you did so. In the middle of a loud and hectic scene, you were peaceful. 
James observed his talk with Xeno, trying not to be suspicious. Every so often, he would cast his eyes down to your sleeping form. He was still interested. He wouldn’t keep looking at you if he didn’t care at all. 
“Alright guys, I’ll see you back at Gryf,” James said as he got up and picked you up again. “I’m getting my lady to a bed and then we can keep the party going.” 
Since the younger kids were coming back to Slytherin from Hogsmeade to start their Halloween party, the older students were going to move to Gryffindor in about twenty minutes. They waved their goodbyes to James and promised to find him right away when the party moved upstairs. 
You woke up as James entered the common room and started towards the stairs back to his dorm. 
“Why do we always end up like this?” 
James looked down. “Hello, bug, how was your nap?” 
“Delightful. And I’m now very excited.” 
“Excited?” 
“Yes.” 
James wore a goofy grin as the two of you went inside the dorm. The two of you stood side by side in the bathroom as you brushed your teeth and freshened up. You both sat in the middle of his bed, now with an awkward silence. 
“Should we lay down and just let it happen naturally? No one else uses this enchanted muggle projector so the professor just lets us keep it. There are a good amount of movies here.” 
“Okay.” 
You and him got comfortable on the bed, cuddling ever so slightly. James’ left hand sat just under your breast as his thumb gently caressed what was beneath it. Your hand snaked down his body and took an experimental squeeze of his pants. The movie went on without more touches until halfway through. You stiffened up before relaxing at the fingers going under the waistband of your panties. He turned your head to look at him. James watched with lust in his eyes as he watched his fingers pleasure you. It was all of five seconds before your lips crashed onto each other and you moved to the edge of the bed. 
Nearly all of the sixth and seventh and dreaded eighth years moved up to the party in Gryffindor. Not seeing James right away, the others decided to go looking. Remus squeaked and everyone else peeked into the crack in the door. James’ hands squeezed your ass before moving slowly up your body until they were underneath the jumper he made you, fingers trying to undo your bra. You both laughed as he struggled a bit. Eventually, the bra was off, leaving you in just your panties and sweater. 
“They’re looking. How long do you think before they close the door?” James whispered against your lips. 
“I give it two more minutes. Is it just the marauders?”  
“I can see Dorcas, Lily, and Xeno’s friends. The plan is going swimmingly.” He leaned back, not caring that the others could hear. “Hey, you know we don’t have to do this. It’s okay.” 
You leaned back and that made James move his hands from under your jumper. 
“Bug, I’m serious. I will not have sex with you unless you’re one hundred percent sure.” 
“I want to. I’m just nervous.” 
James chuckled. “Hey, I’m nervous too.” 
“Really?” 
“Yeah. Do you not believe me?” 
“You always seem so sure of yourself.” 
“Being sure of school or quidditch is a lot different from romance or sex. Let’s take it slow, okay?” 
“Okay… Can I take your shirt off?” 
“Yeah, love. Can I take off yours?” 
You nodded. The door slammed followed by someone yelling sorry the moment James started lifting the hem of your sweater. The two of you couldn’t help but laugh. Reassuring James now that everyone was gone that you actually did want this, you continued feeling up and down each other’s upper body. He groped at your boobs, running a thumb over your nipples. 
“These are gorgeous.” 
“Shut up.” 
“I’m serious. So fuckin gorgeous.” 
“James,” you moaned as he took one in his mouth. 
“Can I fuck you, love?” 
“Absolutely.” 
You scurried up onto the bed in the most undignified fashion, making James laugh. He followed suit. James groaned as he started to sink into you, pausing when your nails dug into his skin. “Are you okay?” 
“It’s just hurts a bit.” 
“Do you want me to stop?” 
“No. Keep going.” 
He went slower, kissing you as he did to try and distract you. When he sunk in all the way, he checked in on you again. James waited for you to open your eyes. 
“We good?” 
“Yeah, please move.”
Your mouth dropped open as James started pumping. He smiled in satisfaction that you were feeling just as good as him. Maybe he knew what he was doing, just a little. You whimpered his name a little as you grabbed at his biceps. 
“You feel so good, Y/N. So warm and fit me  just right.” 
He also felt warm inside you. He shouted your name before finishing inside you. The sheets stuck to your naked and sweaty bodies as you both tried to come down for your highs. James pulled you closer until you were on top of him. 
“That was amazing. I’m really glad we chose to do it with each other.” 
You pecked him on the lips. “I really enjoyed it… We should probably put on clothes before everyone comes in.”
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volturiprincess · 2 days
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Rain
Demetri Volturi x human mate reader
Summary: Reader gets overwhelmed with stress and he's there to support her Warnings: mentions of an anxiety attack, but mostly fluff A/N: Omg someone stop me😁, another one-shot post?? I had to write this because as I was taking my breaks I would work on this, its not proofread but the idea of Demetri calling the reader Spanish nicknames is a must have but throw rainy weather into the topic and muah *chefs kiss*. Enjoy and there will be a second A/N in the end. A little translation for my non-Spanish speakers: Mi cariño: dear or darling Mi vida: My life Princessa: princess Mi amado hermoso: My beautiful lover
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(I cant believe it took me a while to write a Demetri one-shot)
I burst through our shared room in a panic state and I saw my lovely mate on his special chair. Before I could even react he was already wrapping his arms around me and cuddling me into his chest. I felt the build up tears I was holding back cascade down my cheeks. Demetri was rubbing my back in comfort and I heard him mumble
“Mi cariño, let it all out, I know you need this”
I sure did need this, all of today I was working on a project for a class and I ended up deleting about half of it and couldn't recover it at all. I always threw my computer out the window but instead I stared at the blank page that was staring back at me with what I could assume was mockery. I did manage to remember a good amount of what I had done and it's back to how it is, but I spent a while in a state of shock and denial.
Suddenly I felt myself shaking physically, my heart increase in palpitation and worst of all I could feel my breath becoming shorter. Demetri picked up right away that I was dealing with an anxiety attack and he guided me toward the balcony to the fresh air and the light rain. 
“Mi vida, look its raining, you love the rain, hey look at how pretty it looks”
I turn my head to be able to face the scenery instead of his very well built chest to see how soft and calming it is currently. I told Demetri before that I love the rain, it's my personal safe haven other than his arms. I felt my trembling and shaking diminished slightly, my heart rate started to slow down to a more reasonable way but my breathing was still a problem.
I felt him tilt my head up so I was looking at him and my breath for a minute hitch, he looked breathtaking right now. There were small droplets of rain running down his face which caused his hair to stick to his forehead and his eyes were full of adoration. He looked beautiful at that moment, well he always looks beautiful, I heard him one time arguing with Felix and he ended the conversation with “Dont hate me because im beautiful”. 
I smiled at the memory and soon enough he had a look of curiosity with a matching smile
“What's got you smiling like that princessa?”
“I was just think about your statement to end an argument with Felix, the don't hate because i'm beautiful”
His laughter filled the gloomy atmosphere that the rain created, his laugh sounding like music to my ears. One of his hands started to caress my cheek gently, his coldness immediately sending a small shiver down my spine but also somehow started to steady my breathing.
“Look at you princessa, your doing so good in breathing, such a good girl”
I blush at the praise which he never fails to miss, he knows what praises from him does to me, many thoughts come to mind but I push them away for now since I am still recovering from the earlier events.
“Do you want to talk about it/”
“My computer decided to throw me a whole 360 today”
“A whole 360? Im sorry cariño, but you need to explain that to me”
I giggled at his dumbfounded look, it's always fun to be able to still catch a vampire as old as him off guard with my modern language “Right forgot your like a million years old, I was working on a project today for one of my classes on my computer and I accidentally deleted like half of it but like I barely started it so it was no big deal because I remember what I had so far but it was just so frustrating you know”
He continued to caress my cheek as he nods along to my explanation 
“And it just so stressful in thinking I have so much to do still before this week ends and I feel like I have done what I needed to do but its not enough still and and—”
He placed his finger on my lips to silence me and I tiled my head to the side from curiosity, this is new. His signature smirk spread onto his face at my reaction
“Sorry love, but you started to spiral into chaos and as much as adore to hear you ramble, I started to feel stress myself from your stress”
I looked down in embarrassment but he tilted my head up once again 
“Hey don't be embarrassed cara, it's good for you to talk about what stresses you out, better out and in you know?”
“Your right metri”
“Now care to have a dance with me in the rain then?”
Whining at his request, even if that has secretly been a dream of mine to do “Demi you know i'm not even a good dancer, heck I don't even know how to”
“But that's the fun part princessa, I can teach you and we will be dancing in your favorite type of weather”
“Fair point”
As the rain intensified slightly, he guided my moves with such elegance that I almost felt like I myself am an expert to begin with. The rain at that moment was not a bother, my main focus was my casanova of a vampire that I call mi amado hermoso.
A/N: You know I don't know why I haven't added any Spanish nicknames to my writings, but I will in future (I feel like Demetri would just know all of the most romantic languages). I know I mentioned this in my Alec one-shot but I am working on a Caius one, its a work in progress indeed maybe in the end of this week I might have part one done, who knows?
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sashaisready · 2 days
Text
This Must Be The Place: Chapter 2 -Feet on the ground
Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader
Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.
Series Masterlist
No specific warnings in this one (apart from Biker!Bucky of course). Some brief references to grief. Sorry it's on the shorter side, just need to set up our story. Thanks to all who have reblogged/commented, it means a lot!
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You sipped your drink as you told Bucky all about granny and moving into her house. He nodded solemnly as he leaned on the bar and listened intently, the depth of his attention surprising you. You didn’t expect him to be so easy to talk to. Behind you, Wanda and Vis were very obviously pretending to be chatting, while clearly eavesdropping on your conversation.
“Oh yeah, she was a nice lady. I’m sorry for your loss,” Bucky told you with sincerity after you’d finish the whole tale. “She was a tough old gal”.
“Uh, thanks,” you replied quietly, not realising until now what an emotional gut punch it still was to talk about her. “And yeah…she was”.
You cleared your throat and changed the subject. You cocked an eyebrow and looked at him curiously.
“So…what’s your deal?”
He grinned, “What’d you mean?”
“You know,” you pointed to his kutte, “all this. You’re one of the top guys, I guess? I’m sorry, I don’t really know the lingo…”
“I’m the President” he smirked and pointed to one of his patches, clearly a little amused by your ignorance.
You peered over at the fabric square. “Mm. So, what, you drive around town on your bikes causing mayhem and throwing darts at women’s butts?”
“Something like that, yeah,” he laughed. “But mostly we’re here, or at the auto shop across town”.
“Busy, busy” you teased. “I’m sure its all legitimate and above board…”
He winked. God, what a dangerous wink. You instinctively knew that wink had ruined lives.
You both exchanged a small smile.
“You’re not afraid of me, huh?” Bucky teased.
“Should I be?” you boldly shot back.
He grinned. “No. But a lot of people are”.
“Well…your aesthetics aren’t super warm and fuzzy”.
“No…guess not”.
You continued to sip your drink as you tried to fight off the nagging voice telling you to back off. God only knows what he gets up to when he’s not at the bar or fixing cars or at whatever other business fronts they had. You didn’t need another dangerous, no-good man in your life…You were only supposed to sort the house out, live quietly for a little while and then leave. Not get embroiled with the locals, and certainly not with the President of a probably criminal motorcycle club…
…and yet…
“So…you working while you’re staying here?” he asked curiously.
“Mm. Maybe. I have some savings. And thankfully the mortgage at my grandmother’s place is paid off, so at least that’s one less thing. But I might get something part time to keep the lights on”.
Bucky smirked and held his arm up to the bar behind you. “Work here”.
You laughed. “What? Yeah, good one…”
“I’m serious. You need extra cash. We apparently need some help here after you tore my poor bartender apart. So why not? Sounds like you have some experience…”
“I do yeah…but…”
“But what?” he asked, a hint of interrogation in his voice.
“Well, I was thinking more like a coffee shop or delivering pamphlets or something. Not working nights with drunks…”
“Oh, but we’re friendly drunks. Plus, the regulars tip well,” he pushed. “You can spend the days working on the house and then do a few evenings here until you move on. It’s perfect”.
You frowned. It was pretty perfect, actually. You thought about protesting, but as you looked back at Bucky’s expression you immediately understood that this was someone who was very used to getting his own way.
“You’re not gonna drop this, are you?” you asked.
“Nope” he responded, popping the ‘p’ and shaking his head.
You sighed, chewing your lip with hesitation.
“Will your club mind? I mean…they don’t know me. All they know is I yelled at one of them”.
“Eh. Everyone yells at Parker”, he shrugged. “You’ll fit right in”.
You frowned, then looked back at him suspiciously.
“But…Why are you doing this? You barely know me. I might be a serial killer for all you know…”
He chuckled. “Well, I’ve met a lot of bad guys in my time, Sugar, and trust me, you get pretty good at figuring people out. Plus, I get it, grief is tough, and your grandmother lived here all her life and was a big part of the community. And you’re her family. We do look out for one another here; this is our home after all”.
You blinked in surprise, not expecting that answer. Your sceptical side half believed he just wanted to get in your pants, but he sounded sincere regardless.
You looked over at his group who were laughing and drinking jovially, then across the room at the wide range of clientele. You’d certainly had worked at worse places.
Sighing, you turned back to Bucky. “Well…fine. Let’s do it. But I’m not wearing booty shorts or anything ridiculous for a uniform”.
This coaxed a belly laugh from him. “No…only the male bartenders wear those,” he quipped. “Jeans and tees are fine. Maybe a flannel if you really wanna mix it up”.
You nodded. “Okay, I can do that”.
He smiled back at you sweetly, but a hint of something edgier lay beneath. The way he eyed you made you feel…exposed. Like you were a doe caught in the crosshairs. It wasn’t unpleasant, no, in fact it made your lower belly surge, sending a wave of butterflies through you.
“Welcome aboard, Sugar” he grinned.
You smiled back, once again knowing full well you were treading into dangerous territory...but unable to stop yourself.
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bella-goths-wife · 1 day
Text
Jealousy at play
James x lost boys daughter, romantic Dimitri x lost boys daughter, father lost boys x daughter reader
Content: a vampiric patron of Dimitri’s bar gets too close to his newest bartender
Warnings: mentions of blood, obsessive behaviour, jealousy, threats of violence
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“I still don’t understand why you had to walk me there” you comment with a roll of your eyes as you and Dimitri make your way to his bar, with him lingering slightly behind you to make sure to protect you from any threats from behind
“Because, little bird” Dimitri responds with a playful huff of air “I promised your grandfather that I’d make sure you’d be safe, and a pretty young girl walking alone in the dark on her way to work is definitely not safe”
“I’m not completely helpless y’know” you quip back with a sigh
“I don’t doubt it birdy” he replied with a chuckle “but your sarcastic comments won’t last very long against a supernatural being”
You don’t respond and just glare at his teasing smirk as your arms wrap around yourself to block out the crisp air that you were unfamiliar with after spending your entire life in the humid caves of Santa Carla.
“Cold?” Dimitri asked with an eyebrow piqued in interest
“No” you lie but the wind hits you in that moment and you let out a small shiver
“So you must be shivering from my pure charm then” Dimitri comments with a teasing tone
“I’m just not used to the cold” you say defensively “I’ll get used to it”
“Not before freezing to death you won’t” Dimitri comments with a teasing smile
Before you can make some kind of insulting quip back at him, you feel engulfed by warmth as he puts his suit jacket over your shoulders and lets it cover you
“You can’t-“ your about to protest but Dimitri cuts you off
“What?” He says with a shrug “I’m undead, what’s the cold gonna do to me?”
You just roll your eyes and continue to walk, but you can’t help the small smile that finds your lips.
You absent mindedly play with the necklace around your neck to calm your nervous energy, inadvertently pulling your shirt away from your collar bone slightly and showing a small tattoo off to Dimitri. It was a small bat that laid at the bottom of your collar bone.
“When did you get that done?” Dimitri asks and when you look at him with a confused face, he uses his eyes to motion to your tattoo
“Oh” you say as you subconsciously bring your fingertips to the tattoo and a memory of James holding your hand while you were tattooed forced it’s way into your mind “I got it done when I was fifteen, my ex boyfriends friends owned a tattoo shop and I’d always wanted to get one”
“Bet your dads loved that” Dimitri comments with a small smirk at the thought “what did they do when they found out?”
“Nothing” you answer with a small chuckle “my boyfriend taught me how to care for it and gave me tips on how to keep it hidden, so they never found out”
“And what happened to this boyfriend?” Dimitri asks with a teasing tone before the realisation hits him and his expression morphes into concern that he’s offended you “shit, he’s not dead is he?”
“No he’s not dead” you say in a reassuring tone before letting out a deep sigh and thinking on your next words “we just didn’t work out I guess”
“Did he break your heart?” Dimitri asks intrusively but you don’t seem to care as you nod “did he hurt you?”
“Not physically, he’d never do that” you say with a soft shake of your head “he just tried to keep me in a bad situation and I couldn’t stay just for him, same thing happened with my ex girlfriend, they both just tried to stop me from going into the real work and wanted to keep me in Santa Carla forever”
“Ex boyfriend and ex girlfriend” Dimitri says as he lets out a small whistle, trying to ease the mood as he ruffles your hair playfully “you little player”
“Shut up” you say as your roll your eyes and laugh before beginning to fix your now messed up hair
Dimitri took a moment to just admire you and how you practically glowed under the streetlights of the city and how your laugh sounded like a symphony of angels. You practically looked ethereal under the light of the moon when you smiled.
“We’re here” you point out to a distracted Dimitri as you reach the door of his bar and you wait for him to use his keys to open it up
Dimitri admires you for a few more moments in silence before using his keys to open the door.
“Want me to teach you how to make a Bloody Mary with actual blood?” He asks with a smirk and you just smile and nod in return
———————————————————————
You cringed as you poured the thick substance of blood into a glass for a patron while Dimitri watched on from his seat at the bar with an admiring smile.
You had been working at the bar for a few weeks now and in all honesty, Dimitri had no complaints. You were capable of doing the job with minimal fuss and the smell of your blood attracted vampires from all over the place to come in and have a drink, the fact he got to spend time with you was also a bonus.
But then something made Dimitri frown and his eyes narrow. He watched as a clearly newly turned vampire said something with a suggestive smile and then he only felt his annoyance deepen when he noticed that the comment had made you laugh.
He watched as the vampires eyes looked at you with lust clouded over them, from either your enchanting body or your enchanting blood.
Dimitri called you over once he noticed the vampire beginning to speak again, and you walked over to the other end of the bar to where he had positioned himself.
“You’re running low on type B” Dimitri comments as he gets up and goes behind the bar “why don’t you go get some more from the back and I’ll keep serving our customer?”
You nod as you make your way behind the bar and into the back to where you could reach the cellar. As you do this this, Dimitri turns to the vampiric customer and notices his eyes raking over your figure as you walk away.
“Pretty little thing, isn’t she?” Dimitri comments with what looks like a friendly smirk as he grabs a bottle and refills the man’s drink
“I’ll say” the man says with a crude smile “where did you get one like that?”
“I like to pick up strays, especially pretty ones” Dimitri answers with a smirk “and the smell of her blood, well it’s nothing short of delicious”
“That’s one word for it” the man responds with a laugh “been thinking about talking a bite out of her since I got here”
“That so?” Dimitri asks with a forced smile
“Yeah man, I’d do anything to take a bite out of her” the man says with a crude expression “either her neck or her ass”
“Well, there’s something you’ve got to remember” Dimitri says with a forced laugh
“What’s that?” The man asks curiously
“She’s claimed” Dimitri states as his smile drops and his expression darkens with a protective feeling clouding his chest “so I suggest you pay your tab and leave, unless of course you want me to jump over this bar and rip your throat out with my bare fangs”
The man gulps before nodding and slapping some money on the bar, he then picks his stuff up before taking off practically running out the door.
You returned seconds later as you refilled the empty bottles and looked around.
“Where’d he go?” You ask confused as you look at the empty seat
“Who knows” Dimitri says with a shrug before smirking “maybe he got intimidated by my good lucks and decided to leave”
You roll your eyes but you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. Dimitri notices and is reminded of maxs warnings to not become romantic with you and considers them for a brief moment before smirking and watching you laugh at his jokes
Too late max, too late
———————————————————————
Meanwhile with your fathers……
“No way” Paul exclaims at David’s suggestion as he rises from his seat in his position in the circular meeting “we are not turning our daughters ex fling into one of us”
“I wasn’t a fling” James responds with a a defensive tone
“You might as well have been” faith comments passive aggressively before sitting closer to marko when James eyes glare at her
“Why are you still here again?” James asks aggressively
“Enough” David commands with a tired tone “we wouldn’t be turning him for us, we’d be turning him to find our daughter”
“And how would he do that David?” Dwayne asks with a roll of his eyes “we’ve been looking for months, how is tasking a teenager with the same thing we’ve been doing over and over again going to change anything?”
“Because I know her” James exclaims defensively “I’ll be able to find her, and it’ll be a whole lot easier if I have the abilities that come with being a vampire”
“I know her too, I could find her if I was given the chance” faith interjects and marko gives her a nod before James spins round to face her with a sneer
“But you won’t turn, will you?” James asks with a mocking tone “it goes against your little religion”
“Shut up James” faith hisses back with a glare
“It’s because your a coward-“ James hisses back but is interrupted
“Enough you two, always arguing like children” Dwayne yells with an annoyed expression
“It’s decided” David says firmly “I’m turning him and he will get us our daughter back”
“But you can’t-“ Paul goes to protest but marko interrupts
“I think it’s a good idea” he states calmly “I don’t like the kid but he’d make a pretty decent tracker as a vampire, and it’s not like we have any more options”
Dwayne goes to protest but just sighs before nodding, admitting to the truth in his statement.
“I’ll turn you tomorrow night” David says firmly to James “it’s not an easy process, so prepare yourself”
David goes to get up but faith stops him
“Wait” she exclaims desperately “I want to be turned too”
“What for?” David questions with a raised brow
“To get her back” faith states firmly “I can’t live without her, I promise to be useful I just want to help her”
“Doesn’t that go against your precious god?” James asks mockingly and faith sends him a glare
“She’s worth more than god, I’d do anything for her” faith states firmly before her expression turns desperate and she turns to David “please David, please turn me too”
David eyes faith for a few moments before sighing
“I’ll do it” he states with an annoyed glare “but only because you tried to make her stay, you’d be dead if it wasn’t for the fact that you helped us”
Faith nods and David storms out of the room with a face like thunder after having to deal with all these childish antics.
The only thing that brings him comfort is the fact that he’s one step closer to getting you back.
He’ll get his precious daughter back to him soon, undead or alive
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gothushi · 2 days
Text
white horse
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pairing: simon x f!reader
warnings: canon s/a, simon feeling worthless, narrative paints him as pathetic because that’s how he feels, pining, one single use of y/n
note: went in a totally different direction for this but i’m happy with it. i think he deserves the world and more. i’ve left it open to your own mind whether you’re actually in a relationship with simon or not
word count: 5k
———————♡
Hands trembling, Simon hurriedly fishes his phone from his jeans pocket. Clothes scattered on the floor, pristine motel shower, towel wrapped too tight around his waist. His heart beats so hard he fears it may just pop right out of his chest, a sick feeling in his gut as he fights back his emotions welling up. Did he go too far..?
It’s subconscious, the way he dials your phone number, anxiously listens to the ring.. ring.. until you answer with a groggy “Hello?”
He steels his nerves, inhaling sharply when he hears your voice, neck straining with the effort to not break down into pieces right there. “Did I wake you?”
“Simon?” You had answered the phone before you realized you were even awake, just now registering it’s him. “No.. no you didn’t. What’s up?” You find yourself rolling over in bed, rapidly waking up. He doesn’t call often, much to your dismay, but you understand he’s undercover and isn’t able to as much as he’d like. So, to get a call so late at night, unprompted, stirs worry in you.
He feels his breath catch in his throat, shutting his eyes for a moment, “Uh.. it’s nothing.” A half truth. It’s been six days since he last called, but it hasn’t been because he doesn’t want to. If anything, he craves the comfort of your voice. He just can’t let you know he’s not okay. That he misses you. That he craves you. “I.. I just.. wanted to check in.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!
He slept with Brendan. Slept with him. Let Brady touch and touch and take. He can still feel his hands all over him, his tongue on his skin, rough and sharp. Even after taking a shower, gasping for air, scrubbing his skin so hard it’s sore, washing over his growing and current bruises enough to turn them a shade darker.. it’s still there.
You can obviously tell something is wrong, can hear the way his voice wavers, how he can’t seem to find his words. Sitting up in bed, you flick on your bedside lamp and see the book you were reading discarded beside you. “I must’ve dozed off while reading, so you caught me at a nice time.” You smile, letting him hear your calm and warm tone, not wanting to push immediately.
Simon’s breath is heavy, labored. It’s audible over the phone. He can feel his throat constrict and his hands are trembling, thighs weak. Memories of Brady flash through his mind, his hands, his- It’s not like he had a choice. He has to do whatever it takes. Right? “You sound.. sleepy.” He offers, words nervous like he’s choosing them carefully, “What were you reading?” Please don’t ask please don’t ask.
You can hear it, hear his gasping, as if you were standing right in front of him. The urge to ask what the fuck is wrong is so unbearbly strong but.. you know him. Know enough to wait a moment. Glancing down at your book again, you speak, keeping a soft tone, “That series I told you about last time.. I’m already on the third book.” You laugh a little, fixing the bookmark sticking out of the pages before getting up from bed, “What are you up to?”
Even in this state, a smile touches his cut lip, remembering the previous conversation about some fantasy book you had started. “Just… getting ready for bed. Took a shower.” Another half truth. He’s still wearing the damp towel, stood in the too bright bathroom and avoiding his own eyes in the mirror. He looks awful. “The book’s good?”
“Yeah,” your bare feet pad downstairs, going to the kitchen to get a drink, “I’m breezing through it, but the series isn’t even finished so once I’m caught up I’ll have to wait for the next book.”
This is nice, it’s helping to start to calm him down a little.. but.. his jaw clenches with the effort of holding back a sob. Brady’s hands yanking his shirt up, tongue licking his skin, roughly flipping him over with strength he never wants to feel again, bared before him whilst his lip drips blood onto the wooden floor. His eyes dart to his reflection. He looks.. defeated. Beaten. Bruises adorn his sides, jaw, lip bloody and rapidly scabbing over. The shower did nothing to wash away the ache in his bones, did nothing to cleanse the feeling of being used, his hands, the nails that scratched his back and the pressure of another body atop him.
“Simon?”
It’s too much. Did he go too far? He’s completely broken himself and for what? Revenge? Justice? Cam? Is it worth it? Of course it is. Anything for his baby brother. Even if it shatters him fully.
“Y.. yeah.” It’s whispered out, realizing he hadn’t spoken. The silence between the two of you lingers. He can hear the shutting of your fridge, the way that certain hallway floorboard creaks under your feet as you go back upstairs. It’s comforting really, let’s him know you’re there, real.
Back in your room with a glass of water, you sit back on the edge of your bed, taking a swallow of the cold liquid, “Simon.. what’s wrong?”
There it is.
The way you ask him.. makes his chest ache, and his voice cracks when he answers. He hasn’t told you much about what he has to do while he’s undercover but.. you’re intelligent. You can put things together. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to steady the shakiness of his breath and to not cry. “I..” his voice catches in his throat, almost raw, and he takes a couple more forced breaths.
He can’t. He’ll cry. His throat is tight, eyes blurring with tears. Brendan even patted his head like a dog when he was done.
“Did something happen with Brady? Are you safe?” Had you been more awake, that would’ve been the first thing you asked, if he were safe.
His throat trembles again at the mention of his name. “I’m okay..” he says, voice strained. “Just.. I’m..” He feels like he’s about to crack open entirely. He’s barely got it together as is, a few words and he might fall apart right now.
You know he wouldn’t lie to you if he were to be in danger, if he were at risk of being caught or something, so that eases your worry by only a millimeter. The tone of his voice, hoarse, how he can’t find his words.. “What happened love?” It comes out oh so softly, as if you were speaking to an abandoned animal.
It hurts. It all hurts. His bruises, where he was abused, deep in his chest, his head, it aches all over and he just wishes it were gone.
He nearly bursts into tears right there just from that, as pathetic as it may be. Another deep breath as he finds the words he’s been searching for. I shouldn’t be telling her this. “Just.. Brendan and I..” His hands are trembling, fingered curled around his phone until his knuckles are white.
“Simon.. tell me.” You urge softly. You need to know. Something is eating him apart to the bone and you can tell.
He can’t help it, he’s breaking and his voice quivers a bit. “We slept together.”
His throat hitches when he says it. He hates the way those words sound put together, hates that they’re even true.
It stuns you for a moment, you didn’t know what to expect but.. pieces are clicking in your head and your own throat tightens for a moment, “Simon.. you..” You can’t cry. You won’t. For him. Not yet. “You didn’t want it… did you?”
His legs feel weak, like he might collapse. Breathing is a foreign concept to him as he swallows down more tears, trying to will them back as he glances upwards at the white ceiling. “N.. no.”
His chest is caving in on itself, the reality of it actually hitting him. And the worst part? Come morning he has to do it all over again, slip into that facade he’s been playing for months. The thought makes him nauseous.
Silence lingers for just a few moments as you process the information. You want to begin crying, to weep for him before it’s even fully settled in what happened but you can’t you won’t, you have to be strong for him. “Does he..” you form the words as soft as possible, “Does he know you didn’t want it?”
Brendan tossed him around, punched, kicked, threw him overtop the little table that shattered under his weight, the ceramic lamp cracking and cutting a spot on his hand, his lip. They had been arguing before, that’s what spurred it on. But he needed to get to Brendan, to be trusted. So he played coy, tilted his head.. and kissed him. He formed the plan so quickly in his head he didn’t have time to think of the consequences.
“No..” He whispers. “I had… I had to. Had to act like I did.”
“Oh.. Simon..”
The rooms too bright, such a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the motel room. He has no where that feels safe to hide away, heart beating at his chest. A sob escapes him before he can stop it, holding the phone tight to his ear. I didn’t have a choice. This is the only way. This was the only way.. It repeats over and over in his head like a mantra, though the words do little to ease his pain. Knees hit the wet tile floor uncomfortably as he shakes with the effort of holding back his cries, rasped pants escaping him.
You have no choice but to just listen to him break. Your brows knit together in worry and you steady your own breathing, trying to remain calm even though pure sadness and anger flood your veins. “Simon.. love, breathe..” He’s panting too hard.
He wants to scream, weep until he passes out, but he tries. He tries. “I… I need you.”
He wants your comfort, needs it. Needs your gentleness, your warmth.. even if he doesn’t deserve it.
A frown forms on your lips. He can’t, it wouldn’t be safe. At least that’s what you think right now, have been told before. Even though you crave to hold him, to cradle him, whatever he wants. “I’m here.. I’m right here. Breathe..”
He just wants to lay next to you, to forget everything. Forget Brady’s wandering hands. He inhales a skaky breath, “I just-.. don’t wanna be alone. I just want you next to me… even if I don’t deserve it.”
“Of course you deserve it.” There’s zero hesitation, “You deserve the world Simon… after.. after everything you’ve done..” All this for his baby brother, laid in the hospital.
“I know.. I just..” Simon takes another raspy breath, fingers hurting with how tight he holds his phone. He wants to beg. He wants to tell you to come get him. All he wants is you. Needs you to tell him everything is going to be okay. “I wish you were here.”
“I am, I’m right here.. I promise.” The walls too cold against his bare arm as he slumps against it, chest heaving. “I’m sorry.. I can’t imagine how much you’re hurting.”
“It’s not just the hurting..” He whispers back, barely able to force the words out. It’s like his heart’s trying to claw it’s way up his throat. Tears burn his eyes, wetting his cheeks and sticking to his lashes. “I hated it.. I hated having to… to.. touch him. I know it’s for-.. I-.. he thinks I enjoyed it and I wish I could just-.. wipe it all from my mind.” It’s a miracle he’s even able to speak right now, even though getting the words out is like nails on a chalkboard. Unbearable.
Blinking back tears of your own, you ask, “Simon..” you would never once doubt his love for Cam but.. “Is it worth it? Will.. doing this all be worth putting him in jail?”
“It has to be..” He has to believe those words. It has to be worth it. He has to believe it. “If it just stopped now.. then it would all be for nothing.” That’s what he has to believe, otherwise.. who knows, maybe it is.
A slight nod to yourself, understanding his words. Cam wouldn’t want.. this.. The thought crosses your mind but God, you’d never say that out loud to him. “You just.. have to keep him convinced.” You confirm softly, understanding his actions.
“Yeah..” He whispers again, raspy. His thumb rubs up and down on the side of his phone. “I just.. wish this was over now.” His voice cracks with another sob.
You heart breaks, tears welling up in your eyes as you exhale softly, “Sweetheart..” How can he do this..? How can he manage to keep this front up with Brady? Your heart is just breaking and you want nothing more than to kill Brady with your own hands.
“It’s just..” His words come separated, panting, crying, “It’s all so hard.” His eyes squeeze shut, head pounding with a deep ache that may never go away.”I don’t-.. how much longer do I have to do this?” He whimpers.
This case is important to him… to get justice for Cam.. to lock Brady up.. but..
“I don’t want you to do it anymore..” You breathe out, tears spilling over your lash line.
He tenses at your words, even his breathing halting, “I have to do it..” His eyes squeeze shut again so tightly they hurt, deep behind his eyelids. A couple of shakey inhales and exhales before he speaks again, “Please.. just please don’t ask me to stop.” If I stop, then I’ll hate myself more than I already do..
Your heart is breaking. It’s cracking into two and you have no idea how to stop it. You can’t. “Okay.. I won’t..” You curl up beneath the covers, leaving your bedside lamp on. The call now on speaker, you set the phone beside your pillow. A weak little thank you comes from him, whimpered, tired. “Just… don’t hold it in. Please… I’m right here and ‘m not leaving, so just let it out..” Your voice is pleading, knowing he only has tonight before going back to playing the part. Know he has to get his emotions out now before they’re shoved back down again.
He’s still white knuckling his phone, trembling, slumped against the cold tile wall as the light above the sink hums annoyingly. “I…” He felt stupid, as the tears begin to flow again, another sob clawing its way out of his throat, “I hate this.”
“I know..” You wish you were with him. You haven’t seen him in months. “Just breathe..”
Another strangled sob, words cut off, “I wish I was with you..” He’s so afraid..
“I know.. I know..” You try to soothe, keeping your voice steady even as tears slip into your hairline as you lay in bed, finger rubbing along the side of your phone like you wish it were his face you were caressing.
He feels weak, pathetic. He wishes he were strong enough to handle the fact that he’s alone in this, but he doesn’t want to. Wants you. Needs the safety of your presence, your touch, to bury himself in your chest and never move.
“Hey.. y’said you took a shower right? Why don’t you get dressed and get into bed..” The suggestion leaves you in a soft voice, like you’re speaking to a child. Despite not being there physically, you want to help the best you can.
“I.. yeah, I did.” Laid against the wall, his tired eyes scan the floor where his shirt and underwear lay before out into the dark room. He takes the time to get to his feet, nearly stumbling, trying to follow your instructions. He’s thirsty, so he gets a glass of water from the tap and downs the entire thing before getting dressed, eyes trained on the increasing time of the phone call to keep himself reassured that you’re there, before crawling into bed.
“All comfy?” Your voice almost startles him as he lays his head down. The bed is.. alright. The blankets are soft, fleece, bringing a contrasting warmth to the chill his damp hair sends through him.
“Yeah.. I...” A moment of silence passes before he resumes speaking, his voice so quiet, “Can I ask you something..?”
“Of course.” He could ask for the moon and stars and you’d present them in the palms of your hands.
“What would you do if I asked you to come and get me..?”
That would ruin everything, his mission, and he’ll never be able to look his Lieutenant in the eyes again, maybe even be fired. It’d also risk you, put you in danger. He knows all that, yet, the desire to have you here right now still lingers. Selfishly, he wants you.
“I’d do it.” No hesitation. That seems to be a theme for you and him. You stare at your phone, hoping this is him asking. You’d do anything for him, yearn to hand him anything he desires.
“You’d.. you’d come?” He’s almost certain this would ruin everything, all these months for absolutely nothing… but would.. would it really? Is this worth what it’s doing to him? “Please.. just…” He trails off, thoughts battling each other.
You, on the other end, stay dead silent. If you let your lips part, you’ll start begging him to let you come. Beg for him to leave it all behind, consequences be damned. So you wait, swallowing, listening to his even breathing as he sniffles.
…..
“Could… could you come get me? Please?”
There, he’s done it.
You’ve already begun sitting up before the words finished leaving him, picking up your phone. You stand, feeling the wave of panic and relief flood your system, blowing out the candle you had lit, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.. please.” It’s almost a sob, maybe it is one. Tears start to soak his face again, “Just please come get me. I don’t want to be alone. I-.. I wanna see you.”
There’s no thinking anymore as you rush downstairs, shoving your feet into the nearest sneakers you find and grabbing your keys. Simon can hear the front door shut and gravel crunch beneath your feet as you get into your car. “I need to know where you are.” The engine of your car purrs to life, already backing out. He weeps out the motel name, the bed and breakfast showing up as nearly forty-five minutes away once entered into your GPS. Fuck.
He wants to beg, continue to plead as he wails into his pillow, muffled. He doesn’t know how long he lays there, half asleep, body in survival mode and trying to shut down all in the same breath. You make the drive in thirty minutes, your voice startling him out of his half dozed state, “Love? You awake?”
“Mm..” Simon blinks, focusing on his phone, heart speeding up, “Yeah.. yes.. I’m awake.”
“I’m outside.” This almost doesn’t feel real. After being separated for so long and now you’re just… here. You have to stay strong, get him out of here first. Your eyes scan over the big buildings with multiple rooms, seeing the dim lights on them. A silver car is parked a few spaces away from yours and… next to it, Simon’s bike. There’s some shuffling, sniffling, feet thudding on the floor before the call ends and movement catches your eye. Up on the second floor of one of the buildings, the door opens and a tall figure slips out, jacket over his arm. He’s walking with a limp, and the sight of him makes you almost start to wail. You sniffle and wipe at your eyes, leaning over to unlock the passenger door and push it open as he nears.
He looks a mess. His lip is cut, eyes sunken and tired, face wet with smeared tears. He slips into the passenger seat, not even daring to look at you and neither do you dare to continue to stare at his face for a moment longer. You can’t, you’ll break. However you waste no time reversing from the parking spot and driving off, back out onto the road in the direction you came. It’s silent for five entire minutes and you don’t dare stop, just in case, but you do however reach and blindly grab his hand, linking your fingers together. Part of you fears he won’t even want to be touched, but it’s squashed with the way he clutches onto you for dear life.
You’re actually here. With him. You’re really here and he’s really out. He breathes in deep, trying to calm his racing heart, stow his emotions for now. Even just being in your car helps, because it smells familiar. Even as more stifled sobs leave him, he doesn’t let go of your hand, squeezing so tight it must hurt you.
He’s nearly cried himself to sleep again, barely feeling the way the car jostles as you pull into your driveway, the gate sliding shut behind your car. Undoing your seatbelt and reaching over, you undo his and slowly unlink your hands, not daring to look at his face yet. “C’mon, let’s get inside..” He listens, slowly, following you up to the front door, taking in the surroundings of your house again. Garage to the right, big gate and large brick walls lining the property. He’s been here countless times but.. oh.. the warmth he feels as you both step inside. A table to the right along the wall for your keys, coats hung up on a wall rack to the left, shoes scattered on the tile entrance way floor. You push open the door to the main hallway, the heart of the house, and he feels so much better.
You finally turn to look at him, both stood in the middle of the hallway, and in the dim light you fear he may see the way you crack open a bit.
He looks… broken. A bruise covers his jaw, scabbed over cut on his lip, eyes red and wet, cheeks flushed yet he’s pale. Bags hang under his eyes, dull, sad. Your hand reaches up instinctively, but you pause mid action, as if it’ll scare him.
He blinks slowly, sniffling, your touch so close yet so far.
But you pull back, “Go upstairs, get in bed. I’ll bring you some water, okay?”
He obeys, feeling comforted by your voice, the simple instruction. He doesn’t need to be pointed to the stairs, the carpet plush under his socked feet as he somehow makes it up there without his legs giving out. Not even considering the guest bedroom, he goes to yours, crawling underneath the duvet and he almost sobs again at the warmth, the smell, you. It smells like lavender and vanilla, the candle you have on your bedside table, mattress made up with a different bedspread than he remembers.
After a minute he hears your footsteps, watches as you come inside with a glass of water, kneeling onto the bed to offer it to him. Now he notices you’re in some pajamas, a cute matching set that he’d compliment if not for the circumstances. He sits up on an elbow, taking the offered drink and sipping some of the ice cold water, before handing it back to you with a whispered thank you. You set it aside and just stare, really looking at him now. “Simon…”
It’s obvious how tired he is, and the way he stares back up at you makes him feel vulnerable, not in a bad way though. “..yes?” His voice is small, barely a whisper. He’s feeling so many overwhelming emotions and doesn’t know which one to settle on. He feels grateful, safe, even though the last thing he feels he deserves is your forgiveness and warmth.
However you reach out again, mirroring your action in the hallway, pausing before your skin meets his, ‘Can I..?” Your fingers curl into your palm, nervous he won’t want the touch.
But he does want it, wants it so badly. To feel the comfort of your hand, the love of your fingers… Simon reaches up, his own hand curving around your wrist. He tugs softly, pulling your hand forward, feeling the tickling touch of your fingertips before you lean more into it and cradle his cheek. His eyes flutter, he could start crying again, if he had any more tears in him. He whimpers as his hand drops from your wrist, pushing into the touch with his eyes closed. The warmth on his bruised jaw feels so good, so safe. He looks so defeated, so broken, he’s had everything ripped away from him except you.
“Y/N..” Simon utters, it’s all he can do.
You’re so gentle, as if calming a skittish animal, thumb gently brushing the cut on his lip. “I’m right here…”
It almost brings tears to his eyes again. This is where he feels safest.
“I’m sorry..” He leans into your hand, the touch slowing his heart, and for the first time in he doesn’t know how long, he relaxes.
A frown finds its way to your lips, cradling his face, “What for?” you ask back, keeping your voice just as low as his.
“For.. everything, for..” The words won’t fully come to him, eyes fluttering halfway open as he gazes up at you, watering again, “I’m sorry, I..”
You shift, laying down ontop of the covers whilst he’s tucked under them. Your other hand comes up, and you falter for just a fraction of a second before it slides against his other cheek, cradling his face in your palms. “You have nothing to be sorry for Simon.”
He can’t help it, the moment you lay down he reaches out and pulls you close. His arms loop around you in a hug, burying his face against your neck. “I missed you.” He sniffles, lip wobbling against your skin. You cradle him back, one arm curling under his head for support and the other loops over him, hand finding his hair and petting it gently. It almost startles him, because Brendan did the same thing, albeit rougher, but your hand is so… it feels much nicer, your fingers tangling into the clean locks and scratching at his scalp.
“I missed you.”
The sensation of you caress is enough to make him curl into you more, face pressed against the base of your neck. Simon inhales deeply, smelling your body wash, the compassionate hug making him relax. His arms are tense though, as if he’s scared you’ll be taken from his grasp. Fingers paw at your back, pressing into your shirt, feeling. He needs to know you’re real. And you know that, so you let him even if it hurts a little, “Do you want me to turn the light off?” He answers with a shake of his head, a quiet ‘mm mm’, trying to wiggle impossibly closer. Now that he has you he doesn’t want to let go, fearful you’ll slip away.
“Do you.. want me under the covers?” Even if it sounds silly you have to ask for permission, petting your hand down his hair and over the nape of his neck, where Brendan’s lips were.
One little word slips from him, “Please..”
He is tired, exhausted, sore and scared, but the thought of snuggling with you, feeling your heat, your body against him, is enough to keep him awake. Your hand on his nape brings a small whimper from him, he’s so relieved you haven’t pulled away from him. He feels used, like he doesn’t deserve this touch, but here you are. Your nails scrape over his skin and it makes him shiver in a good way, bringing back memories, a comforting feeling.
A whispered okay is your response, twisting to lift the duvet up and slide yourself under it. He’s immediately pulling you into his arms again, right to his front so not an inch is found between you. The touch makes his heart race, nuzzling back into your neck, breathing in your scent like a hungry animal. He whimpers again, clinging to you for dear life.
“Shh.. I’ve got you, you’re safe.” Your chin is ontop of his head, hand back in his hair to pet and scratch, soothing him. The sensation is enough to break him completely. His lip wobbles again, blinking as tears flood his eyes, legs tangled with yours. He’s really here.. It’s all over.. he doesn’t have to go back.. He can feel your heartbeat, steady and solid. The moment the tears slip from his eyes, his grasp on you tightens desperately. He buries himself closer, wanting nothing, not even oxygen, just you.
“Don’t..” He chokes out, trembling, hiccuping a little cry.
You give him a squeeze, cradling his head and keeping him close, “What?” You whisper, “What d’you need Simon?” It’s pleading. Anything. You’ll do anything for him.
“Don’t let go. Please.. Don’t.” His fingers tense again so much they hurt, wanting to make sure you don’t fall through his grip. He needs you now more than he’s ever needed you before, your hands in his hair, your heartbeat sounding in his ears.
“I won’t.” You tilt your head down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I promise. You can go to sleep, I’ll be here, I’m not leaving.” Your hand tangles in his hair in a light grip, enough for him to know you’re there. Leaning into him, he grasps so hard it hurts, but you’d prefer the bruises of his fingertips over the absence of his body.
This is all he needs, all he wants. Forget everything else, he doesn’t want to turn to that life anymore, wants to forget it all and stay hidden away tucked beneath your duvet. Reality can wait.
———————♡
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lilithlinen · 2 days
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Turning Tables III - Kevin Lomax, John Constantine X You.
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"Yes," he says, his voice cold. "Find out everything. And make sure it hurts him."  Kevin hangs up the phone, his mind racing. He needs to control this situation, to make sure you know who's in charge. He won't lose you to anyone, especially not John Constantine. 
Kevin’s POV 
A few hours later as I walk back home, my thoughts are consumed by revenge. I need to make John pay for what he’s done. For making you question me, for trying to take you from me. 
When I arrive, I find you sitting on the couch, tears streaming down your face. “Where have you been?” you ask, your voice shaky. 
“Taking care of business,” I say, walking towards you. "Did you call your...lover?" I ask mockingly. 
“No,” you admit, looking away.  
I grab you by the chin, forcing you to look at me. “Don’t worry about him,” I say, my voice low. “I’ll handle him.” 
“Kevin, I can't do this anymore,” you whisper, tears still falling. “I can't live like this.” 
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have cheated on me,” I growl, my anger rising again. “Maybe you should have thought before you acted.” 
“I had to,” you murmur, your voice small. “I just needed something more than THIS.” 
“Well, you won’t find it with him,” I say, pushing you onto the couch. “I’ll make sure of it.” 
You stare up at me, fear shining in your eyes. “What are you going to do?” 
“Whatever it takes to prove my dominance,” I say, my eyes never leaving yours. “To show you who’s in control.” 
I watch you as you crawl back. “Kevin, don’t. Please...” You plead, and I smirk. 
“You’re mine, Y/N,” I say, my voice firm. “You always will be.” 
“I’m not yours,” you say, your voice shaking. “I'm my own person.” 
I laugh, my eyes glinting with anger. “Oh, really? Then why are you so willing to run to John?” 
“Because he loves me!” You shout, your face red with emotion. “He doesn’t hurt me!” 
“That’s not true,” I say, my voice rising. “He’ll break you just like I will if you leave me!” 
“Stop it!” you cry out, covering your ears. “Please, just stop it!” 
I grab your wrists, pulling them away from your ears. “You’re mine, Y/N. Mine. You belong to me.” 
“No!” you scream, fighting against me. “I won't be your possession!” 
I shake my head, trying to regain control of the situation. “You're, you’ve always been,” I repeat, my voice cold. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you this way.” 
You stare at me, tears stream down your face. “You’re not the man I fell in love with.” 
“I never was,” I admit, my voice devoid of emotion. “But I’m the only one who can give you the life you want.” 
“You’re wrong,” you say, your voice soft. “I don’t need that kind of life.” 
I lean in, my lips brushing against yours. “You’re wrong, Y/N,” I whisper. “You do need me.” 
You move your head away and say through gritted teeth. “I don't need you.” 
“Yes, you do,” I say firmly. “You need me more than anything.” 
“No!” you scream, fighting against me. “I don’t need you!” 
With one swift motion, I pin you down on the couch, my body pressing against yours. “Shut up, Y/N,” I growl, my lips crushing against yours. 
You struggle, but I'm relentless. My tongue slides into your mouth, dominating you as I have always wanted. Your struggles slowly fade, replaced with moans and whimpers of pleasure. 
Finally, I pull away, your breaths ragged. “See?” I say, my voice thick with victory. “You need me.” 
You stare at me, confusion and desire mixed in your eyes. “What...what are you doing?” 
“Showing you who’s in control,” I say, my eyes never leaving yours. “Reminding you of your place.” 
You gasp as I move lower, my tongue tracing the outline of your breasts. “Please, Kevin...” you murmur, your voice shaking. 
“Please what?” I ask, my voice low. “Now...why don’t we make it even more fun? Call that bastard of yours. Constantine...right? Call him right now. Let him come over.” 
Your eyes widen in shock, and you shake your head. “No, I will not.” 
“Come on, Y/N,” I say, my voice soft and seductive. “Make it more interesting.” 
“No,” you say firmly. “I won’t do it.” 
I smile, leaning in close. “Why don’t you think about it?” I suggest, my breath hot against your ear. “Unless you want him dead.” 
You hesitate, your body trembling. Finally, you reach for your phone, your hand shaking. You dial John’s number, your eyes never leaving mine. 
John answers immediately. “Y/N? Are you okay? Your last call had me worried sick!” 
“John,” you say, your voice trembling. “I need you to come over.” 
“I’m on my way,” John says, his voice filled with concern. “What’s going on?” 
“Everything’s fine,” you say, your voice shaking. “I just...I just need you here.” 
I lean in, my lips brushing against your ear. “Tell him you need help,” I whisper. “Tell him you’re in danger.” 
“I... I’m in danger,” you say into the phone, your voice cracking. “Please, John. Come now.” 
I smirk, my grip tightening on your wrist. “See, I told you it was a good idea,” I say, my voice low. “Now, let’s make sure we put on a good show for the great John Constantine.” 
I lean in, my lips finding yours. My kiss is hungry, possessive, as I dominate your mouth. I can feel your body respond to me, your heart racing in your chest. You want me, Y\N. You always have and always will. 
As I pull away, I can see the conflict in your eyes. You know you’re in trouble, but you can’t help but crave my touch. And I’ll make sure that’s all you crave for the rest of your life. 
Tears fall down your face as you try to resist again. “Kevin...don’t do that to me.” 
“What, Y/N?” I ask, my voice gentle. “Hurting you?” 
“No,” you say, your voice breaking. “Making me want you.” 
“It’s not my fault you’re a slave to your desires,” I say lowly. “It’s not my fault you can’t resist me.” 
“I don’t want to,” you say, your voice shaking. “I...I don’t want to want you.” 
“Liar,” I say, my eyes never leaving yours. “You know you’ve always wanted me.” 
I move closer, my lips brushing against your neck. “Just think about how good it feels,” I say, my voice soft. “How good it feels to be mine.” 
Your breathing quickens, your body responds to me even though you fight it. I can taste the salt on your skin, the evidence of your tears. It makes me harden, knowing I have this kind of power over you. 
“Do you want me, babe?” I ask, my voice deep. “Do you want me inside you?” 
Your breath hitches, your eyes locked on mine. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Yes, please.” 
I grin, my eyes sparkling with triumph. “Then let’s give you exactly what you want.” 
I undress you, reveling in your naked body. As I take you, I can hear John knocking on the door. But it’s too late for him. I’m already deep inside you, claiming you as mine. 
As I thrust harder, I can hear his voice outside, shouting your name. But I ignore it, focusing solely on your cries of pleasure. This is ours. Ours alone. “Scream louder, hoe. Let him hear you getting fucked by me.” 
I smirk darkly as I watch you sob and struggle to keep quiet. 
“Quiet?” I say, my voice mocking. “Are you trying to protect your pathetic lover?” 
“No,” you say, your voice breaking. “I just...I can’t.” 
“Can’t or won’t?” I ask coldly. “Don’t think you can hide from me, Y/N. I know every inch of your body. Every reaction. Every desire.” 
“I...can’t help it,” you say, your voice trembling. “It feels too good.” 
“That’s because it’s meant to,” I say lowly. “I’m the one who knows your body best. No one else can compare.” 
I thrust harder, feeling you clench around me. You’re so wet, so ready for me. And I’ll make sure you stay that way forever. 
As you reach your peak, I can hear John banging on the door. But it’s too late for him. You’re mine, completely and utterly. You’re mine, and no one else will ever satisfy you like I do. 
“Come for me, baby,” I say roughly. “Let me hear you scream.” 
You do, your body arching beneath me. Your screams fill the room, filling John’s ears. As I finish, I can’t help but smile. He’ll never replace me. Never. Not in your heart or in your bed. “You see, darling? There’s no one else for you but me.” 
A/N: Flopped?
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