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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 1 month

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My baby, my baby…

Summary: Leon is a man pushing 40 and you’re a girl in her early 20s. You confessed your feelings but things went south.

Warning: age gap. literally any older version of Leon. reader is young. female reader. haha guess what? it’s sad again.

a/n: I love mitski <3 still mad I didn’t go to her concert. Guys I love writing, I feel like I’m god waiting for shit to happen. TEEHEE.🤭 also, should I make a part two with smut?

(pt.1) (pt.2)

“You're my baby, say it to me” - Mitski, I Bet On Losing Dogs

You hated him. Well not really. You just hated the way he made you feel when you two were in the same room. Your heart beat faster and you felt your face grow hot. You had butterflies in your stomach every time he did something. And you felt stupid because he’s a man twice your age.

You did what you always think is best, avoid him. To which you failed miserably. You both worked on the same team on the DSO, of course you were bound to be next to him. It was as if the universe was mocking you. You couldn’t help but feel guilty. This man, poor innocent man, probably doesn’t know that he has someone so much younger after him. He must be worried about missions and not dying, while you were here crushing over him.

It didn’t help the way he would talk to you, distant but polite. He didn’t hate you, he just thought you were too young to experience such a miserable life the DSO puts on its agents. He wants you to live life. To be a normal girl in her early 20s. He wanted you to have the life he wished he had. He wished you would live your 21st year way differently than when he was 21.

But those thoughts remained unspoken. Neither of you actually spoke about anything besides work and missions. You tried to find excuses to talk to him but he would just stare at you in silence as you talked. He wasn’t mad, he just stood there. (Like this lol🧍‍♂️)

Professional and polite conversations turned into jokes. One time, during a meeting, you were sitting next to Leon and the poor man looked like he didn’t get an ounce of sleep. Chris was talking about some mission in Antarctica and Leon couldn’t help but grumble a stupid joke about all the penguin shit roaming around. It was such a stupid joke but you laughed. When Leon heard you laugh, he turned his head your direction and stared at you with a raised brow. He smirked to himself and laughed a little bit. It was funny to both of you.

From that moment, he became more warm towards you. When he saw you, he would nod at him. And you being you, a delusional lover, gushed about how much he is in love with you.

You managed to break the ice exterior he had because he would look at you with soft eyes every time you got near him.

But things changed when you confessed your feelings to him. The softness in his eyes disappeared and he looked at you with the same distant look he had. “I’m too old for you, y/n…” He spoke with a quiet but firm tone. The two of you were currently alone in some room inside the DSO building. You thought this was the perfect time to let your feelings out.

He took a step towards you and stood in front of you, “You should focus on someone your age, sweetheart,” He mumbled as he brought his hand to your face and brushed some strands of hair behind your ear. He then ran his hand down your cheek with a gentle touch. You couldn’t help but lean into it. His thumb gently grazes against your bottom lip as he ran his fingers around your side of your face.

You were upset, you wanted him despite the age gap. “Please… I only want you,” you whispered and leaned into the palm of his hand.

Leon stared at you and then sighed as he brought his hand down your chin to lift it up more. He wanted to see those beautiful eyes of yours, even if they began to show how sad you were. “It’s wrong for me to have you,” he whispered gently as he examines your face.

You felt your eyes become full of emotion, “It’s not fair…” your voice came out strained and barely audible, it was a miracle Leon still understood you.

"I know." Leon sighed, unable to keep himself from looking you with a soft look. You were his soft spot after all, "Trust me; nothing would please me more than to be with you..."

“Then let me have this one chance…please?” You begged with pleading eyes. "I shouldn't," he breathed, eyes traveling down to your lips before returning to scan your face, "It wouldn't be right for me to take advantage of you..."

“I want you to take advantage of me, to use me… I just want to be yours,” you whispered as your eyes shifted down to his lips and then back to his eyes.

"You're sure about this?" His breathing quickened as his eyelids drew heavy, his gaze locked onto the soft curve of your lips. You nodded, “I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t sure,” you whispered as your hand intertwined with his.

He squeezed your hand, and with a slight shrug of his shoulders, he leaned down until your faces were just mere inches apart.

He breathed slowly, eyes scanning your gaze, "Promise me one thing..."

You stared at his eyes and nodded, “yeah?”

"Promise me..." He breathed out slowly, allowing himself to lean in closer to you until his breathing was near whisper. "...That you will not regret this.”

“I won’t,” you whispered as you closed your eyes and felt Leon's lips finally make contact with yours, kissing for the very first time. It was a gentle, tender caress that made your cheeks flush with color, his broad hands gently resting on your hips while the tips of his fingers grazed the skin of your waist. You brought your hands to his broad shoulders and rested them there. You felt your knees grow weak from the gentleness of the kiss. His lips felt so soft against yours, he tasted the flavor of your chapstick and he couldn’t help but love it even more.

He sighed against your lips as the gentleness of the kiss began to build into something more passionate. His lips pressed against yours firmly, a hand cupping your chin to keep your face closer. His lips parted slowly, urging your lips to part as well. When you felt his lips part and his tongue press on your bottom lip, you gasped and he dived his tongue right into your mouth. His tongue finally danced against your tongue, inviting a response back from you. Your grip on his shoulders increased ever so slightly as you moaned in the kiss, sending the vibrations to his tongue as both your tongues danced passionately.

He moaned softly in response, his hands sliding around to your back once more holding you as close to him as he could. His tongue continued to swirl around your mouth, gently sucking at your bottom lip. His hold on you was strong and firm, a silent command to stay pressed against him. His hold on you only grew stronger as he kept you pressed up against his body. A hand ran through your hair, keeping your head held in place. His tongue and lips continued the dance of teasing and pleasing, your own lips responding in kind. The passion built within his embrace, his breath growing labored and his heart beating rapidly against his chest. It felt so surreal.

You moved your hands down to his chest and gently pulled back to catch your breath. You panted as you tried to breathe and remain focused. Your brain felt mushy from how good the kiss was. You finally got the chance to taste his lips.

His lips parted from yours, and he breathed out slowly, his breathing rapid and throat parched. His hand slid to your lower back as he kept you pressed close to him. He brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face, then gently tucked it back behind your ear. "Are you ok?" He whispered, voice still strained, but his body relaxing slightly.

You nodded and breathed out a small “yes,”

Leon let his grip on you loosen slightly, allowing a small distance to form between the two of you. He brushed the side of your face, and his hand moved to grasp yours.

"Good," He whispered slowly, his gaze falling to your lips, "So very good..." he sighed and let his hand slid back down your back before letting go, "Forgive me if I got a little carried away..." He took in a deep breath, his voice now returning to a normal tone, "I've wanted to do that for a very long time..."

You eyes nestled bulged out of their sockets after he said that, “You did?” You asked softly in disbelief.

He nodded slowly, his gaze flicking between yours, “Yes. Ever since the moment we first met, I was attracted to you, even though I knew it was wrong. I wanted you, wanted to hold you close, kiss you, and make you mine…” his eyes growing distant, "I've wanted you..." He took a deep breath, then gently caressed your chin with a hand, his lips gently grazing your forehead.

You closed your eyes and felt the softness of his lips plant a kiss on your forehead. A gesture so gentle and soft it could bring anyone to their knees.

He breathed out slowly, closing his eyes for a second before opening them to peek at you through his lids. He raised a brow and sighed, adjusting the hold on your chin to gently tip your head up.

"But as I said, I'm too old for you," he brushed his fingers across your jawline, "And I fear that our relationship would be met with judgment and ridicule..." he looked at you with saddened eyes. He wished he could kiss you anytime, to be with you in public and not have to worry about the judgment. In his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman to ever step foot on earth. It was sad, really. How much love he had for you but he hid it for your sake. He loves you so much he didn’t want you to get hurt.

You furrowed your brows together and looked at him with those sad eyes of yours. But his heart ached the most with the strain of your voice, “I don’t care what anyone says…”

"But you should," he replied softly, "You're still young... You should find someone closer to your age,” he caressed your cheek once again as he looked into your eyes "What about your family?" He sighed, "What if your parents disagree with us? They'd say that I'm taking advantage of you and manipulating you because you're young..."

“Leon, please, I’m an adult. I can make my own choices…” you whispered with a sad tone, “I don’t care if you’re 20 years older than me. I want you… dare I say I love you…”

Leon fell silent as your words sank into him. He froze in place, for a few moments, he was speechless, his facial expressions shifting through multiple emotions.

"Love me?" He whispered, leaning down towards you, "Y/n… you don’t love me. You love the idea of me you have in your head.” He whispered softly as he caressed your cheek once again. His voice so soft and tender and full of sadness.

Your throat was caught up into a knot. Did you screw things over already? Or were they already screwed up before this began?

You bit your bottom lip to contain the threatening tears that were about to spill. He saw this and gently brought his thumb over to the corner of your eyes and wiped them for you.

“I love you…” you nodded and felt your eyes get glossy, “I love you, Leon…” you whispered, “This feeling I have… it’s controlling me. I can’t breathe when I’m not with you. I need you…”

“Don’t cry, angel,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead again and gave you a sad smile. “How do you know this is not just infatuation?”

You stared into his blue eyes deeply, “Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone before..”

His eyes were locked onto yours, a million thoughts running through his head. As much as he wanted to be with you, this was never meant to happen. You’re way too young. You needed someone else, someone better than him. He sighed and looked out the window. What was once a sunny day became a rainy one. He looked back down at you.

"Go home, y/n…" he whispered.

He let go of your face and took a step back. You watched him go with sad eyes, you wanted to chase after him so badly but you felt frozen in place. It was bittersweet. You got the kiss you wanted but at the cost of him leaving you.

You sniffled and cried silently as you walked out of the building and to the bus stop. You put on your headphones and began to listen to some music while you watched the raindrops race down the window.

Leon watched you from the second floor window. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart. He knew you’d cry but he couldn’t let you get too attached to someone like him. He was broken, never meant to be fixed again. While you were everything. In another universe, maybe the two of you could’ve been together.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #id leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #di leon #light angst #resident evil angst #resident evil fic #re4r leon #re4 leon #fanfic

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inklessletter · 1 month

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The first time Steve hears Eddie singing that song, it's nothing but a absent-minded humming while he's doing something else. Writing something down, he thinks, for the campaign, probably.

Steve knows that song, that's why he smiled when he heard the soft, muffled tone falling out of Eddie's throat. Steve's heard Will singing it, and it's so painfully Jonathan, that song wears his signature all over. Maybe it's because it's The Smiths, and The Smiths is Jonathan.

Steve holds a smile and keeps himself busy, away from Eddie's eyes, because of course, that's what he does. No need to cause a scene, he could go on with his day without Eddie asking him "why are you smiling like an airhead?" Nah, thank you very much.

It's not his music scene, but Steve admits that it has been a favourite since it came out. It was just so goddamn relatable. He first heard it when Nancy dumped him, and sometimes, when he was working at Scoops, he could hear that song coming from the rock station Robin liked, coming from the backroom. No surprise she likes that song too.

Those were dark times for him. Summer job at Scoops, that is. It was a disappointment after another; no university, no high school anymore, no girlfriend, no status to hide after, no friends but the kids he drove all around Hawkins (and yet, three weeks away from Dustin, who was the only one who actually went to see him without asking for anything in return), the most embarrassing dry spell and having absolutely zero idea of what to do next. And that song just randomly filled the air and he indulged himself for two minutes to sulk on his own misery and he felt surprisingly less depressed right after.

So, yeah, that song holds a special meaning for him, a soothing balm for his broken heart, a good nostalgia from his darkest period.

And it comes back to him, from Eddie's voice, and it comes to stay the rest of the day. The rest of the week.

It makes him sad. A good sad, Steve guesses.

He's not really better than a couple years ago, but he's less scared, which is undeniably a victory.

He lets out a sigh and walks away from Eddie, leaves him there, happy and focused and begging.

Steve comes to notice that Eddie sings that song a lot, and he's making it his business not to ask, not to sing along, not to say or do anything that may reveal that Eddie's version of that song is becoming so fast the best he's ever heard.

The day the older side of the group go to see him play with his band, and at some point, he just sits and grabs an acoustic guitar and sings it, that one song, the world turns around. It's hard to keep a straight face, and to breathe regularly. A prayer, a begging in form of ballad, the room is in respectful silence, or if there is any background noise his brain makes the greatest job ignoring it.

Feels Robin's hand slipping through his palm and lacing fingers, but he doesn't look at her.

He can't.

His lips, disloyal and treacherous bastards, shape the last sentence of the song.

Lord knows it would be the first time.

The last chord fills the negative space and the bar noises are there again out of the sudden, and some of his friends are shouting nice things, and Eddie is graciously discarding the acoustic guitar and grabbing his sweetheart again and Steve is hoping to go unnoticed when he wipes his face in a quick movement.

He knows Robin sees it, but she says nothing, merciful and elegant.

The gig goes on for a couple of more songs and it's far too soon when Eddie is there, letting himself fall on the stool next to him, all pleased and content and full of black smudged eyeliner and Steve knows he has to say something to him, so he opts to go with, "I really like that song."

It doesn't need any more saying, because Eddie grins and fucking bites his bottom lip, and looks at the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world, leaning on the bar next to Steve, and Steve knows, he just knows Eddie knows which one he's talking about.

"Yeah. I bet you do."

He doesn't tease, doesn't go with the rancid bUt YoU lIsTeN tO tEaRs FoR fEaRs In YoUr CaR aLl tHe tImEeE shit like the kids like to whine. He doesn't pretend not to know which one he's talking about. Steve smiles at him, buys the guy a beer.

"So, Robin told you? About, uh, about the song."

He tries a bit too hard to look unaffected, but the label of his cold beer bottle has seen better days. Steve feels Eddie going still and turning his head to face him, wielding such soft, almost pitiful expression that makes Steve's inside go still, lungs not working, muscles tense, blood frozen in his veins, and somehow scalding in his cheeks. He dares to look at Eddie, who whispers, "She did not."

The time stops, or so Steve thinks, when he turns his head to look at Eddie, not really moving an inch.

The question goes unspoken.

The answer is one second too long of both their gazes taking residence in the other guy's lips.

And the song comes alive in Steve's mind, and his lips move again.

So for once in my life

let me get what I want

Lord knows, it would be the first time

#inklessletter #ficlet #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #soft #this is very much unedited so #it's been a long time since I don't write a bit #pre steddie #steddie ficlet #please please please let me get what i want #the smiths #this song is so absurdly important to me

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sl-ut · 1 year

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you should probably leave

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

description: joel is enamoured by his new neighbour, but old patterns will always be his downfall.

warnings: UNEDITED, slight age gap, slight smut, implied unprotected piv, protected piv, swearing, alcohol consumption, insecurity, angst, reader is given a birthday (she's a sag like me)

words: 10.8K (my longest fic to date)

date posted: 14/03/23

part two

(inspired by you should probably leave by chris stapleton)

OCTOBER 12, 1998

The weather was something that she was unsure if she could ever get used to. For her entire life, she had spent the entirety of the late autumn months dreading the first snowfall of the season before lugging out her extensive collection of knitted sweaters and fur-lined boots. Instead, her little archive of winter clothing was left in a cardboard box in her childhood bedroom, along with the majority of her other belongings that she had not brought with her on her grand adventure–if you could even call it that.

The University of Texas at Austin had not been her first choice of school, or her second, or third; she actually had never even imagined going to school any further than a few hours from her hometown in Pennsylvania, and yet there she was, standing in front of her brand-new home, sweltering under the harsh Texan sun as she struggled to unload her packed car all on her own. Well, to call it her home would be a pretty tight stretch, as well as to label it as “brand-new.”

The small bungalow-style house had caught her eye on a flyer in the grocery store, a listing for one female roommate in a cul-de-sac not too far from the city. It wasn’t exactly her dream home by any means, with an ugly yellow exterior and a kitchen that could certainly use an updating, but it she had recently been forced out of her own apartment due to her previous roommate preferring her boyfriend to live their with her instead and it was the nicest of the few places within her price range that would also accommodate the mutt she’d rescued during her first year. All things considered, it was quite literally perfect for her situation–plus her new roommate seemed to have been at least more considerate of her boundaries than the last, which gave her some hope that things might actually work out.

Y/n grunted at the weight of the box, cursing herself internally for enrolling in school and owning so many textbooks as she lugged it up the front steps, dropping it just inside the door. She couldn’t help but grimace as she glanced up, meeting the watchful gaze of Manny, his furry little head tilting curiously–likely wondering why she was making so much ruckus and interrupting his nap.

“Lazy ass,” she muttered under her breath at him, kicking the box to the side before trudging back out the door.

The next few boxes were filled with clothes and shoes, fortunately for her spine. She hauled several out, dropping each of them to the pavement of the driveway carelessly as she wiped at her sweaty forehead, apparently too enthralled in the work to notice the beat up truck as it turned into the neighbouring driveway.

“Hey there,” she turned to find a young man, his hair combed back to expose his effortlessly charming face to her, “You need a hand?”

She glanced down at the boxes at her feet, “I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

A young girl appeared at his side, wide eyes peering over at the older female curiously. The man shrugged, puffing out his broad chest as he moved. Y/n almost laughed at how obvious he was being, only seconds after meeting her. The man gave off the impression that he had always thought fairly highly of himself, probably the quarterback of the high school football team, maybe even involved in the armed forces–the navy, she was betting. He crossed the barrier between the two driveways in two long strides, extending his hand out to her as he came closer.

“I’m Tommy,” he flashed her a grin, his accent coming out thicker than it probably would have normally. He glanced over his shoulder, motioning for the young girl to follow him into the neighbouring yard, “This is my niece Sarah.”

Y/n smiled politely, shaking his hand lightly, “Hi, I’m Y/n. I guess it’s nice to meet some of my new neighbours.”

“Well, Sarah, here, is your neighbour. Me, I live–”

“What happened to Stephanie?” Sarah interrupted, “I didn’t know she was moving.”

Y/n turned her attention to the young girl, “She isn’t, we’re just living together now.”

Sarah’s mouth formed an ‘o’, the gears visibly turning in her head as she formulated her next question, “Are you guys dating?”

“Sarah!” Tommy choked on his spit, “I’m sorry–”

“It’s okay,” Y/n chuckled at his response before turning back to the young girl, “No, we’re not. I guess she just didn’t wanna be living here all on her own anymore.”

Tommy’s shoulders relaxed, the mortified expression leaving his features in favour of one that she might have even considered relief. He shook his head at his niece, giving her a hard stare, “I’m sorry about her. I figured that she would have some better manners by now–my mistake.”

Sarah swatted at him, a pout appearing on her lips as her brows furrowed. The girl didn’t quite understand how the question may have been taken with offence by some, and was quite miffed by her uncle’s insult.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Y/n affirmed, “I think it’s actually a good thing that she knows about that kinda stuff.”

Tommy glanced down at the boxes, clear discomfort appearing on his features, “Alrighty then, how about these boxes?”

Y/n gave in, offering Tommy one of the heavier of the three boxes, while shifting the smallest and lightest to the young girl, who had been adamant in helping out. She instructed them to just drop the boxes to the floor by the door, not looking to take up much more of their time.

A loud gasp escaped Sarah, her wide eyes falling on the mutt, who had appeared to have been equally as excited to see her as he rushed over, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail flapping wildly. Sarah squealed when he barrelled into her, a fit of giggles leaving her mouth as he brought her to the ground and began to cover her face in slobbery kisses.

“Manny!” Y/n groaned, grasping the dog’s collar and pulling away enough for Sarah to sit up off of the floor, “Sorry, he’s just convinced that everyone wants to be his friend.”

“I’ll be his friend!” Sarah beamed, reaching out and squishing the dog’s face in between her palms, “I mean… Can I?”

Y/n shrugged, “As long as it’s okay with your…” She glanced at Tommy for help, unsure about Sarah’s parentage situation. He’d already made it clear that he did not live next door, but had never explicitly stated who did.

“You’ll have to ask your dad, Sarah,” He chastised her, “Anyway, we should get out of your hair now, let you settle in.”

Y/n nodded, “Yeah, thank you for the help, though.”

“No problem, ma’am,” He winked, southern charm on full display as he stepped out onto the front step, “Anytime for a pretty girl like you. C’mon, Sar.”

Sarah begrudgingly offered the needy pup one more affectionate squeeze before following after her uncle, leaping off of the step and bounding across to her own front yard. Tommy paused, hand resting on the railing of the step and giving it a firm shake. His lips pursed into a line as he let out a small huh as the bannister shifted out of its place, then back in under the pressure.

“Yeah, Steph said there were all kinds of little things wrong with the place,” Y/n noted, “But hey, if it’s got four walls and a roof, it’s good enough for me.”

He chuckled at her, shaking his head, “You know, my brother and I are contractors, we could come over and help you fix things up if you guys wanted.”

She hummed, “I’ll mention it to Steph. Wouldn’t wanna just start making changes to her house while she’s not here, would I?”

Tommy hummed, “‘Spose that’s true. Anyway, I should go see where she ran off to, but I sure hope I’ll be seeing you around.” He shot her a cheeky wink before jogging back over to the neighbouring yard, leaving her and Manny among the mess of boxes in the entryway.

Y/n huffed, glancing around at the mess, then at the furry little beast at her feet, who waited patiently for her to begin offering him her love and attention. She rested her hands on her hips, shaking her head softly, “Well, let’s just get this done, boy.”

– – –

Joel grunted as he clambered in through the side door of his home, sighing in relief as he slipped out of his heavy work boots and dropped the armload of groceries onto the kitchen counter. He could hear the TV on in the living room, drowned out by Sarah’s yell of a greeting. He rushed to put away the groceries, sticking the brown paper bags in the recycling before stepping into the dimly lit sitting area.

Tommy was reclined on the couch, slumped into the worn leather like a pile of mashed potatoes as he balanced his can of Budweiser on his bent knee. He nodded to his brother briefly as he lifted the beer to his lips, hardly taking his eyes off of the football game on the screen as Joel plopped down next to him. The older brother leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to Sarah’s head so as to not disturb her as she worked on her homework on the coffee table in front of the couch before finally copying his brother’s position.

“The hell took you so long? You left the site the same time I did, and I had to go pick this shithead up from school,” he playfully kicked at Sarah’s leg, “plus I helped your new neighbour move in.”

“Supermarket was a zoo,” Joel moaned as he ran his palm flat over his face, then furrowed his brow, “What new neighbour?”

Tommy nodded his head back in the direction of the mustard yellow house, “Chick next door got a new roommate.”

“Uncle Tommy was flirting with her,” Sarah chimed in, not taking her eyes off of the math textbook in front of her.

Joel rolled his eyes, “Now tell me why I’m not surprised.”

Tommy shook his head, taking another large gulp of beer, “I know what you’re thinking, but this girl’s different. She’s not from ‘round here. Not sure where, but she’s got an accent. Canada, maybe.”

“You know what a Canadian accent sounds like?” Joel scoffed, knowing that his brother was prone to drawing his own conclusions.

“Well, no,” Tommy frowned, “But I imagine it might sound like that. Doesn’t matter, I think I’m gonna ask her out.”

Joel grunted in response, turning his eyes to the game on the screen.

“She wasn’t flirting back,” Sarah grinned up at the two men, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her father’s growing smirk and giggling as his own laughter came tumbling out. Tommy kicked her again, only this time with a little more force, “What? You invited yourself over there and were all,” She puffed her chest out and deepened her voice, “Anything for a pretty girl like you.”

Joel rested a palm on his belly as he shook with laughter, his other hand landing on the top of his daughter’s head affectionately as Tommy crossed his arms, sulking.

“I think she was flirting back,” he argued.

“She wasn’t,” Sarah reaffirmed.

Tommy leaned forward, “Now how the hell would you know anything about flirting, huh? You been doin’ a lot of it at school?”

Her face burned in embarrassment, sputtering for a response, “No, that’s gross!”

Joel frowned at her, shaking his head in feign sternness, “You better not be. Otherwise I might need to break out grandpa’s old hunting rifle.”

She didn’t utter another word, simply gathering her things in her arms and rushing off to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her as the laughter of her father and uncle followed her every step.

OCTOBER 17, 1998

Just under a week had passed since he’d first caught wind of his new neighbour, and Joel had yet to even see this woman. He’d noticed the new car in the driveway, and he’d picked up on the presence of the dog fairly quickly, especially after he’d caught Sarah tossing some of the vegetables from her dinner over the fence for him. Joel hadn’t paid it much mind, he was far too busy to be concerned with some young girl who didn’t seem to be causing much issues.

He’d had words with Stephanie several times in the past; once for blatantly smoking pot on

her front step when they were heading out for the day, then for leaving her garbage bin too close to his driveway, causing him to back into it and scratch the paint on his truck, and then once more when she’d had a little get together that ended up lasting until 4am, when the police arrived. He would normally have called himself a narc for having the party shut down, but it was keeping Sarah awake and the door had been shut in his face when he went over to ask politely.

The day had been long, and normally he would have refused Tommy’s invitation to head over to one of the local dive bars, but after dealing with the shit-show that had gone on at the job site that day, he really needed a drink. Sarah was out of the house, anyway, having slept over at a friend’s house, so there was quite literally nothing keeping him away.

“Brother’s night, my ass,” Joel grumbled into his glass, glancing over to the corner booth, where his brother had joined a pretty brunette, leaving Joel to himself at the barside. He waved at the bartender, motioning for another top-up of his whiskey.

A figure appeared at his side, leaning onto the bartop to call out to the bartender. Joel glanced over, his eyes raking over her radiant side profile in awe. He shot his gaze back to the glass of amber liquid in front of him, then briefly over to the girl once more. His eyes narrowed in on her pursed lips, noting how her brows furrowed in frustration as the bartender migrated to the other side of the bar. She turned to him suddenly, and Joel whipped his head back around to ensure that he wouldn’t appear to be some creep–though he was positive he certainly had been.

“Is it always like this here?” She asked him, tilting her head. “I swear, I’ve gone to three different spots along this bar, and buddy keeps looking in the other direction.”

He cleared his throat, “You not from around here?”

She smiled sheepishly, “Is it that obvious?”

Joel chuckled, “Just a little. You gotta get his attention, be firm. Here,” he tucked his index finger and thumb into his mouth and let out a loud whistle, nodding at the bartender as he rushed over.

“Two vodka crans, please,” The girl smiled prettily at the bartender, then scoffed as he turned to begin pouring the drinks, “Shit, I guess I could stand to learn a thing or two.”

“It comes with time,” He frowned, realising that he may have implied that he was at the bar every other night, “I mean, not that I’m–”

She touched his arm softly, electricity running through her fingertips and into his bicep, “Hey, I’m not here to judge you if you’re not here to judge me, heh?”

He nodded, opening his mouth to speak once more when another figure appeared at her side. His smile dropped, taking in the sight of his next door neighbour, probably one of the last people he wanted to see on his night off.

“What the fuck is taking you so long–oh,” Stephanie narrowed her eyes at the older man, who simply turned and took another long swig of his whiskey, “Hello, Joel.”

“Stephanie,” he drawled, “How you doin’ tonight?”

She smirked at him maliciously, “Fine. Y/n, this is the guy I was telling you about.”

Oh, this is Y/n, he thought to himself, suddenly understanding Tommy’s instant interest in the girl.

“All good things, I hope,” he sighed into his glass.

She shook her head, “Oh, just that you’re the neighbour from hell, and that you’re a narc.”

Y/n tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, visibly uncomfortable at the confrontation. His eyes fell to her mouth at the movement, wondering what it might feel like to take that same lip in between his own teeth.

“You keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night, Steph,” he huffed, praying to any god that would listen that she hadn’t completely turned Y/n against him.

Stephanie sneered at him, grasping one of the drinks from the bartop and stomping off, leaving a thick tension over the remaining two. Joel met Y/n’s gaze once again, noting the visible embarrassment on her face as she began to laugh slowly.

“Sorry about her,” She laughed nervously, “For the record, I know that she’s a little dramatic.”

“‘T’s fine,” Joel grumbled, swallowing the last gulp of whiskey, “You ain’t gotta apologise for her, she can feel however she wants about me.”

Y/n chuckled, a genuine one this time and Joel couldn’t help but carve the melodious sound into his memory, “I’m Y/n, by the way.”

He nodded, accepting the soft handshake that she offered, “So I’ve heard.” He noticed the slight furrow of her brow before he clarified, “I’m Sarah’s dad.”

Realisation crossed her face, “Oh, Sarah! She’s a real sweetheart.”

“Yeah, she is,” he smiled softly at the complement, “She sure likes you, and I’m assuming that it’s your pup that I’ve caught her feeding her broccoli to?”

Y/n giggled at him, “Huh, I’d noticed that he was especially gassy lately. Here I was thinking it was something in the water.”

Joel let out a loud laugh, then realised that he had not actually introduced himself, “Shit. Sorry, I just–” he coughed, “I’m Joel.”

“So I’ve heard.” She repeated to him, clearing her throat before turning to gaze at him through her lashes with a soft smile, “So Joel, is this seat taken?”

– – –

Y/n had not expected to have enjoyed herself quite so much when Stephanie forced her to go to the grubby little saloon, feeling incredibly out of place among all of the southerners. She had been hesitant to leave Manny on his own so soon after moving in, but the last thing that she had wanted to do was get on Stephanie’s bad side so early on. Then, she’d stumbled upon the devastatingly handsome man sitting all on his own at the bar, and her tune changed drastically.

She sat on that stool for the better part of two hours after Stephanie had fucked off, leaving them to become acquainted with one another. Joel had offered her another drink, which she accepted under the terms that she would buy the next round, and against his better judgement, he found himself doing a shot of tequila with her as well. She smirked to herself when she took note of the flush that had crawled into his cheeks, and how cheerful his dark chocolate eyes looked under the dim lighting of the bar.

Y/n had noticed Tommy in the corner booth, and how he had been blatantly pressing his southern charm onto the brunette under his arm in the very same way that he had to her, which made her feel much better knowing that he couldn’t possibly be that upset about her doing the exact same to his brother.

Her hand had come to rest on his knee, leaning across to invade his personal space animatedly as she spoke, her own cheeks flushing each time that he grinned or laughed at her words, and she had lost count of the amount of times that she had rubbed her thighs together or considered smashing her lips to his.

Tommy appeared at his side, clutching his shoulder in his firm grasp, “Hey Joel, you think you’re ready–oh, hey, Y/n.” His cheeks had turned red, one hand self-consciously rising to rub at his cheek, where the stark red lipstick stain had once acted as a trophy and was now an admission of guilt. Tommy pursed his lips, “Wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

She shrugged, “Steph forced me out.”

He nodded awkwardly, unsure of how to save himself in this situation.

Y/n turned her head, catching sight of her roommate’s drunken attempt to seduce the bouncer before turning her attention back to the older of the two brothers, squeezing his knee once before sliding off of the stool, “Speaking of, I should probably leave, she’s gonna get us banned from here any minute now. It’s been nice, talking to you, Joel. See you, Tommy.”

Both men watched as she disappeared into the crowd, eyes trailing after her figure longingly.

Tommy huffed, “You think I still got a chance?”

Joel’s shoulders shook in a drunken fit of giggles, lifting his own hand to proudly show off the nine digits that had been marked into his skin, “Nope.”

Tommy’s jaw dropped, clear disappointment on his features before it was quickly replaced by pride, “Well fuck, brother. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

OCTOBER 31, 1998

Y/n wiped at the sweat on her brow, breathing picking up in delight as she turned the corner and the blinding yellow house came into sight. The sun had already begun to set by the time that she and Manny had set out on their evening walk, now settling low on the horizon and casting a golden hue to the world below it as Manny tugged on his leash, obviously also desperate to escape the heat.

A loud honk sounded from behind her, muffled slightly by the music playing over her bulky headphones, drawing her attention to the dark pickup truck as it sped past, Sarah hanging out the back window with a grin on her face as she waved dramatically. Y/n chuckled at the young girl, allowing Manny to lead her into a faster pace as they grew closer to their house.

She slid the headphones down to rest around her neck, pressing pause on her walkman as Sarah rushed towards them. The girl paid very little mind to the woman holding the leash, instead dropping to her knees and reaching out for the excited dog’s face, laughing as he began to lick enthusiastically at her cheek.

“Hi,” her gaze rose to find Joel as he rounded the bed of the truck, hand resting on the top of the tailgate as he tried his best to look casual, “sorry, this one never shuts up about that dog.”

Y/n smiled at him, warmth flooding through her cheeks. She’d only actually spoken to Joel a handful of times since that night at the bar, mostly simple greetings while Sarah occupied herself with Manny. Joel was too awkward of a person to try anything with Sarah present, and Y/n was too compassionate to question him about why he hadn’t bothered to call yet in front of his daughter.

Y/n shrugged, “To be fair, he never shuts up about her, either.”

“Oh did he tell you that?” The man asked, brows raised playfully, “I didn’t know you spoke dog.”

“There are many things you don’t know about me yet, Joel,�� She smirked at him, “Oh, happy Halloween, by the way.”

“Right,” Joel raised one hand to stroke his hairy chin, “Yeah, you too.”

Sarah glanced up from Manny’s pleading brown eyes, “Dad forgot.

Joel sent a sharp glare to his daughter, then smiled sheepishly at her, “Not too concerned about a holiday that’s got nothing to do with me, anyway–this one decided she’s too cool for trick-or-treating with dad this year.”

“Oh don’t feel too discouraged, I gave my dad the boot when I was even younger.”

“See?” Sarah pressed, glancing back at her father, “You don’t even like Halloween, I don’t get why you’re mad.”

Y/n widened her eyes and clutched her chest dramatically, “What do you mean, you don’t like Halloween? It’s like, one of the best holidays!”

Joel rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t tell me you’re one of those people.”

She pursed her lips, “And just when I was starting to like you, Miller.”

His eyes met hers, curiosity pooling into the dark mocha irises as he considered her words. He almost appeared apologetic; could he feel guilty about not calling her? Y/n did her best to not appear too shaken by his lack of contact–she hadn’t expected anything from him the next day, but after two weeks and still no call? She’d taken that as a sign that he’d been a tad too drunk when he had been so shamelessly flirting with her, and that he had no intentions of ever pursuing anything.

Y/n was thankful when Sarah interrupted the pair, preventing her from spiralling into a nervous breakdown from her own inner monologue, “What are you dressing up as?”

The woman shook her head with a mischievous smirk on her lips, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see when you come knocking at my door, huh?”

“No big plans?” Joel tilted his head, “I figured that roommate of yours would have you out on the town.”

She shrugged, “Steph’s out of town. Something about the drinks and the guys being stronger. Looks like it’s just gonna be me and my little guy here,” she gently clapped a hand against Manny’s side, “Well, us and a selection of horror movies.”

Sarah stood up, leaning into her dad’s side with her elbow, “How convenient, my dad will also be home alone tonight.”

Joel dropped his head in embarrassment–just leave it to Sarah to blatantly play the role of her father’s wingwoman. He refused to meet Y/n’s amused gaze, ears burning as Sarah continued.

“And he totally loves horror movies. He watches them all the time.”

“Oh really?” Y/n did her best not to burst out laughing, enjoying the sight of both Joel’s embarrassment and how confidently Sarah was trying to talk up her own father. She crossed her arms over her chest, doing her best to not make it too obvious how much she actually wanted to invite him to join her, but she didn’t want to display too much interest in him if he genuinely had none in her, “Well then maybe he should head to Blockbuster before all of the good ones are rented.”

She raised her brow at him, signalling to him that it was his turn to make a move, as she would not be making any more. He nodded at her, red flooding his cheeks as he tried to muster up the courage to discuss the clear tension between them.

Y/n smiled politely at them both, then glanced down at the heavily panting dog at her feet, “Well, I better get this guy out of this heat. See you guys in a bit, then?” She led the dog past them, glancing back over her shoulder, her lips pursed as she watched Sarah poke at her father’s side sharply.

The young girl smirked at her dad knowingly, remaining silent, though the expression on her face made her thoughts very clear to the man. She scowled at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “Christina’s sister is so right; all boys are stupid.”

The man scowled at his daughter, watching in silence as she moved around him without another word, disappearing through the front door without so much as another glance. Joel scoffed, shaking his head at her, and wondering how the hell his nine year old could be so goddamn right about the situation.

– – –

Joel wiped his hands anxiously across the expanse of his thighs, attempting to rid himself of the nervous sweat that had collected in his palms as he stood on Y/n’s front step, mustering up the courage to finally knock.

“The fuck am I doing,” He cursed to himself, shaking his head as he ran a hand over his face.

Y/n was younger than him; not by a lot, but they were still in very different stages of their lives. He wasn’t willing to admit that he genuinely did like her, and considering that she was still a young woman and still in college, he wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for with him. Was it just some quick fuck that she wanted? Joel wouldn’t be opposed–hell, he was ashamed that he’d imagined such a thing more than a few times since meeting her–but he wasn’t sure if he could jump into bed with her and then move on with his life, nor could he expect her to be willing to just pick up the role of step-mother to his little girl.

Joel had woken up on October 17, hungover as hell and struggling to recall any of his memories from the night before. He’d forced himself out of bed much earlier than he would have liked, needing to pick Sarah up before her soccer game. The man had stumbled his way into the shower, blindly going through the motions of bathing himself as the warm water slowly began to remove the fog from his mind. It was then, as he had reached out for his bottle of body wash that he noticed the smudge of blue ink on his skin, and then jumping in surprise at the memory of the beautiful woman who had given him her phone number–the woman who had him laughing like he hadn’t in so long and blushing harder than he thought possible–the woman who he hoped was now lying peacefully in her bed next door, preferably all on her own.

The few times that he had seen her since then, he had thought about apologising for not calling and telling her the truth of what had happened, despite his embarrassment. He wanted to ask for it again, but every time, Sarah was there, making a fuss over the little pooch that never seemed to leave Y/n’s side. He wished that he were more confident in himself, more willing to speak to other women even if his daughter was there, but he simply would never be able to look at the young girl again if Y/n were to reject him.

“Shit,” He swore loudly as he turned to rush off of the step, instead booting one of the carefully carved jack-o-lanterns onto the pavement of the driveway and watching in horror as it shattered on impact.

“Joel?” He froze at the sound of the door creaking open behind him, smiling bashfully at the young woman as he did his best to not appear too guilty. Her eyes fell from his flushed face to the mess of orange at his feet, a surprised chuckle leaving her lips, “Damn, you really do hate Halloween, huh? Enough to come over here and start destroying my decorations, anyway.”

He sputtered for an answer, “I–it was an accident, I just knocked it off by accident on my way out–”

“Your way out?” She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorframe, “So what, you were just loitering on my front step?”

He scoffed at her, “I was actually on my way to apologise, but if you’d rather I just get lost…”

Y/n raised a brow inquisitively, “I’m listening.”

“I just–I’m sorry for not calling,” Joel admitted with a sigh, debating whether or not it would be best to explain exactly why, “For what it’s worth, I would have if I hadn’t washed it off by accident.”

An amused expression crossed her features as she mulled over his explanation, “You…washed it off?”

He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “I did.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, as if she were trying to decipher whether or not he was being truthful, “Okay.”

His gaze shifted from side to side, uncertain as to what she meant, “Okay?”

“Okay,” She affirmed, “So what time did you wanna come over tonight?”

Joel swallowed the lump in his throat, “Tonight?”

Y/n shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the butterflies that slammed at the lining of her stomach and threatened to erupt, “Tonight. You said it yourself, Sarah’s gonna be gone all night, so would you rather be home alone or come over? Otherwise, I’ll just be here by myself, scared and in need of a devastatingly handsome cowboy to protect me from Michael Myers.”

Blush spread across his cheeks, his hands coming up to rest on his hips, “I don’t know about ‘devastatingly handsome’, but I think I could handle some asshole in a mask.”

She grinned at him wickedly, “That’s what everyone thinks, but I guess we’ll see tonight, around eight?”

“Eight.” He confirmed, then glanced down at the mess at his feet, “And sorry about your pumpkin.”

“It’s alright,” Y/n smirked, “You’ll just have to work extra hard to make it up to me.”

– – –

Joel anxiously adjusted his shirt, frowning at himself in the window of her front door. Despite dismissing Sarah’s teasing by claiming that this was in fact, not a date, he’d taken her advice in showering the moment that he had gotten into the house.

He was aware that she was flirting with him, but until he had gotten out of the shower, towel sitting low around his waist as he wiped the steam away from the mirror and took in his shaggy appearance, he had not been at all concerned about what activities the night might lead to. Staring at his own reflection, nervousness quickly began to settle into his bones.

He had made quick work with the clipper, shortening the length of his facial hair after several weeks of negligence and leaving his lower face to be covered by a light stubble. He put a little more effort into his hair than usual, running a thin layer of gel through it while noting to himself that it was probably time for a haircut. He even took things a step further, dabbing a few drops of some woodsy cologne onto his skin; the bottle had gone untouched for two years, having been a Christmas present from his mother.

“Are you wearing cologne?” Sarah asked as she appeared at his side, face painted to resemble a circus clown, “I knew this was a date.”

“It’s not a date,” He argued, doing his best not to jump in fright at her appearance, “Shouldn’t you be out on the town by now, Ronald McDonald?”

“You showered, put on cologne, and you’re bringing candy? It’s a date.” Sarah listed, “And I’m Pennywise, by the way. Christina’s sister is coming to pick me up soon. She says that guys always dress up when she goes out with them because they want her–”

Joel grunted, glaring at his daughter, “I want you to stop hanging around Christina’s sister.”

Sarah ignored his comment, “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Joel glanced down at his outfit–a clean pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that he’d probably gotten out of a beer box or something, “What’s wrong with this?”

“What’s right with it?”

Joel considered his parenting style for a moment, wondering if he would be free of this headache if he had spanked his daughter once or twice in her life. Sometimes he forgot that the girl was only nine years old with how intelligent she was and how much more mature she seemed in comparison to other kids her age.

“It’s not a date, Sarah.”

She rolled her eyes, “It could be. Come on.”

Sarah rushed past him, leading him into his own bedroom as she began to dig through his closet. She frowned with almost every piece that she picked out, tossing them behind her recklessly and ignoring her father’s scolding for the mess that she had quickly created.

“Hah!” The girl pulled out an egg-plant button down and shoved it into his grasp, “I knew you had to have something that wasn’t that ugly.”

He grunted at her, but didn’t reply out of respect for her brutal honesty as he quickly shed himself of the worn t-shirt he’d previously been wearing in favour of the one that Sarah had chosen. Now, as he stood at her front door and internally decided for himself that this was a date, he couldn’t help but thank God for his daughter’s awareness.

Finally, after tugging at the hem of his shirt, he raised a fist and knocked heavily on the door. Joel choked on his own saliva when she appeared in the window, smiling sweetly at him when she pulled the door open. She had already changed into a pair of black yoga pants and a sky blue shirt that exposed just a tasteful amount of her midriff.

“Hi, again,” she breathed, a smile forming on her face, “You look nice, purple is definitely your colour.”

Joel burned, “I–thank you. Sarah picked it out.”

Y/n turned to the girl, who had already ushered the dog up onto the sofa with her, “Well she has a clear eye for style.”

“She definitely thinks so, that girl damn near harrasses me about my clothes everyday.” Y/n laughed out loud, Joel’s ears tingling at the melodious sound, “You look great, too.”

Y/n beamed down at her outfit, shrugging to herself, “Thanks, I thought about keeping my costume on but I wasn’t entirely sure how much you would be into Strawberry Shortcake.”

Joel chuckled at her, glancing down at the object in his hand, “I brought beer, by the way. Wasn’t sure if I should bring anything, or if you even like–”

Y/n reached out, snatching the six pack from his grasp, “Ever the gentleman, cowboy. So, you coming in?”

– – –

The house was filled with laughter, both having nearly finished their first beer as they shared stories freely. Halloween played quietly in the background, though neither of them paid too much attention. Y/n did her best not to physically melt when she felt Joel’s arm drape across the back of the sofa behind her, resisting the urge to tease him for attempting to cover it up by faking a dramatic yawn.

She brushed her fingers along the top of his thigh, smirking to herself as she watched his leg slowly shift closer to her, though he didn’t address the affectionate touch. He spoke to her softly, and made an effort to hold eye contact with her as he did to–she was starting to feel some guilt about the conclusion that he’d drawn about him after he’d failed to call her. Her own gaze continuously fell to his lips as he spoke, and she was sure that he had noticed by the way that his lips began to curl confidently. Her heart hammered in her chest, wondering how much longer she would need to wait before he finally made a move.

Joel, however, was wondering exactly how he possibly could make a move. While feeling confident around her, there was no way to escape the fact that he hadn’t been on a date in at least a year, and he could count the amount of women he’d slept with since Sarah’s mother on one hand. At various points throughout the night, he had considered leaning in to kiss her, but had successfully siked himself out each time. The first time, he’d been interrupted by the pooch who had been jealous of his owner’s attention being focused elsewhere, though he could only blame every other time on his own insecurity.

“Do you want another beer?” Y/n asked as he swallowed the last gulp out of his can, “Or I have wine and pop?”

“Pop,” he scoffed, chest rumbling with quiet laughter.

She raised her hand and slapped his pec as she stood up from the couch, “Fine, you don’t get anything.”

He laughed, watching as she disappeared into the kitchen and shamelessly admiring the shape of her backside in the darkness of the dimly lit living room. He sat there for a few moments, staring at the movie in discontent, sighing as he ran his hand over his face and murmured a nearly silent fuck it, and following after her.

“Is it too late to apologise and get that beer?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, smirking as she shrugged coyly as she turned and leaned her back against the front of the refrigerator and holding the perspiring can out in front of her, “You’ll have to come get it yourself.”

Joel crossed the small room in two long strides, stopping as the can met his chest, though he paid it little mind as she stepped away from the fridge, pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips. He froze for a second, stomach clenching at the soft touch.

“Sorry,” Y/n whispered, though her tone betrayed how unapologetic she truly was, “Was that okay?”

He didn’t respond, quickly taking the beer out of her grasp and tossing it onto the counter as he cupped her face, capturing her lips with his and pressing her back against the fridge once more. She smiled against his lips, fingers bunching in the material of his plum coloured shirt and tugging him even closer.

His lips were chapped against her own, the telltale sign of a busy man who hadn’t been too concerned with his physical appearance up until now, though she could not picture another kiss that she had received in the last several years that would even compare to Joel’s.

One of his hands fell, fingers splaying around her waist as he pressed even closer, parting his lips as he felt the tip of her tongue prod at the seam and allowing her to seek out his own. He moaned at her taste, fingers wandering to her hip and hesitating, almost as if he had been asking for her permission to move even lower. She grasped his hand, guiding it around to cup her bottom.

Pulling away for air, she giggled softly and fluttered her eyelids open to find him already staring at her with blown pupils. One of her hands slid up his chest, tugging at the collar of his shirt before her fingers trailed over his patchy beard affectionately, “I don’t know if this is too soon, but do you wanna move to my bedroom?”

Joel chuckled at her, squeezing her cheek through her yoga pants, “Lead the way.”

– – –

Joel worried that he might have gone into cardiac arrest as he struggled to catch his breath, back slouched against the headboard as Y/n slumped flush against his chest. The cotton sheets pooled around her hips as she continued to move softly, working them both through the aftershocks of their climaxes. The man sighed in appreciation as her lips continued to slide against his jawline and leave gentle kisses in their wake, her fingers still lost in his dark curls.

Joel’s own hands squeezed her hips as she finally slowed to a stop, helping her slide off of him and smirking to himself at the whine she let out at the loss of contact. She shifted, moving out of his lap and curling into the cool sheets on the bed next to him.

“How was that?” He panted, “Have I done enough to make up for lost time?”

She grinned at him, her own chest rising and falling with her slowing breaths, “I think I recall doing most of the work, actually.”

“Bein’ on top doesn’t mean you were doing any work, sweetheart, I think we both know that.” His eyes fell on the digital alarm clock on her bedside table, grunting to himself as he took note of the late hour, “Shit–how the hell is it ten-thirty already?”

She glanced over to the clock briefly, then back at him, “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Staring down at her nude form, guilt began to eat away at him as he began to slide off of the mattress and begin gathering his clothes that had been scattered around the room.

“Are you leaving?” His back was turned to her as he pulled on his jeans, though he could only imagine the look on her face from the emotion that dripped from her voice; she was disappointed, facing the reality that she would be abandoned after doing something so intimate.

“I mean…” Joel coughed, “Yeah, I should probably leave. Gotta work early tomorrow, and Sarah’s got soccer practice, and–”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest in an attempt to regain her modesty, “I get it.”

Joel couldn’t help but wonder how many times she’d done this. She seemed disheartened, but not entirely surprised at his decision to head out, as if she was expecting this time to be different from the others–as if she was expecting Joel to be any different from the other shitty guys she’d met since moving to Austin.

“Darlin’,” Joel cooed, coming to sit at the edge of the mattress and cupping her face in his large palms, “It’s not like that. I want nothing more than to stay the night, but I know that I won’t sleep a wink tonight if I do.” His thumb stroked her bottom lip as her mouth slanted into a small, saddened smile. He leaned in, pressing three kisses to her lips, each one longer than the last before pulling back, “Can I get your number? I promise I won’t ask for a third time.”

Y/n smiled at him, kissing him once more before snatching a pen off of the bedside table and scribbling on his hand, “You won’t get it if you ask for a third time, Miller.”

MARCH 12, 1999

Y/n sighed blissfully, gnawing at her lip to prevent any moans of pleasure as Joel worked himself into her over and over, his hips meeting hers with slow, meaningful movements as he did his best to keep both of them quiet. Joel wasn’t normally one for booty calls, though he had hardly seen her in the past few days and couldn’t resist when his mind had wandered while in the shower–and for the first time in what felt like decades, he could rely on the help of soft, feminine touches rather than his own fast and rough tugs.

Her thighs shook, teeth biting into the pillow beneath her face as she pressed her hips back against him and arched her spine in pleasure. She met his thrusts enthusiastically, fingers winding into the sheets tightly.

“Shit,” She gasped, “Joel, I’m gonna–”

“I know,” He rasped, “Shhh baby. Let go, I’ve got you.”

She didn’t hold back, allowing the white hot pleasure to run through her veins, muffling her cries in the plushness of the pillow. Her walls clenched around him, gripping him for everything that she could manage as he fucked her through it, head rolled back in pleasure as his own orgasm teetered over the edge. His fingers tightened around her hips, hauling her back against him a few more times before his seed painted the inside of the condom.

His hands slid up from her hips, one pressing on her back to force her to lay flat against the mattress while the other cupped the soft flesh of her belly to roll her over. Joel took in her figure, eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort before dropping to her breasts; the man was absolutely entranced by the shape of her breasts, eagerly pawing at them during makeout sessions and suckling at them with the utmost love and desire as he fucked her. She smiled at him tiredly, hooded eyes admiring his own figure as he slipped out of her, sliding off of the bed and disappearing into the ensuite.

When he returned, he wore a pair of black boxers and carried a maroon washcloth in his hand, carefully parting her legs and sliding the cloth through her folds, puffy and sore from his touch. He whispered an entirely disingenuous apology as he pressed lightly against her abused clit, chuckling to himself as she jumped. Tossing the cloth aside, he settled into the mattress next to her, sliding an arm around her waist and tugging her into his side, sighing in relief at the physical contact.

The rising sun had slowly begun to peek through the blinds, filling the room with a soft glow in the aftermath of the third round. Y/n glanced at the clock on the far wall, sighing to herself as reality settled into her bones. She hadn’t intended on staying so long, especially after how eagerly the both of them had initiated the first round, having allowed herself to remain at his side until she felt his member begin to grow against her thigh once more. Now, after taking him inside of her three times over the past six hours, she knew that she would eventually need to get up and leave–a habit that they both had and hated when they were finished.

She pressed careful kisses into his flesh, lips moulding to the sweaty skin of his shoulder and neck affectionately while her palm rubbed circles into his firm chest. Joel nuzzled his head into her hair, his own lips pressing to the crown of her head as he, too, appreciated the afterglow.

Y/n’s body and heart screamed at her as she finally pulled herself away from him, hopping out of the bed and collecting her clothing from the floor. Joel watched her with sunken eyes, his attempt to remain stoic as he easily recognised what she was doing proving fruitless.

“You don’t–you don’t gotta go just yet,” he called to her, desperation lacing his voice, “Don’t gotta be at the site till eleven tomorrow–”

“Today,” she corrected, “And that’s in seven hours. Besides, I don’t wanna fall asleep and risk having to run into Sarah. I should probably leave.”

He nodded slowly, continuing to watch her as she dressed and fixed her appearance, preparing herself mentally and physically for her four A.M. walk of shame. Joel wanted to call her back to bed again, to convince her to stay with him and promise breakfast in the morning, but instead watched helplessly as she disappeared into the dark hallway, and closed his eyes disappointedly at the sound of the front door closing behind her.

JUNE 2, 1999

Golden rays of sun peeked through the blinds, trailing up the length of the bed with each passing moment before finally gracing over the soft skin of the woman next to him. Joel laid in his bed as still as possible, one arm around her shoulders to keep her flush against his chest, savouring the intimate, domestic moment before it would eventually come to an end–it always did.

The alarm clock flashed the time tauntingly at him, as if mocking him for wanting to keep her there for much longer than he knew he could. This was undoubtedly the latest she had stayed in his bed; it was nearing six A.M. and she had yet to stir from her deep slumber.

His eyes trailed the length of her bare back, his fingers pressing gently at the indent of her spine as he pushed her body impossibly closer to her and bathing himself in the feeling of her nude body against his own. Joel resisted the urge to shake the growing ache out of his leg as pins and needles crawled up the length of his limb, too afraid to move and wake her–he knew what would come once her eyes had opened, as she had done it countless times now.

It was the twitch of her fingers against the soft flesh of his belly that alerted him to her growing consciousness, nails following the pattern of hair that covered his abdomen softly, drawing a quiet moan of delight from the man beneath her. He felt the curve of her lips against his shoulder, turning his head to meet her eyes as they fluttered open.

“Morning, cowboy,” Her throat was dry and her voice was scratchy, but her words still held the power of causing an eruption of butterflies in his gut.

“Morning,” He leaned closer, the tips of his nose brushing her own before she swatted him away, covering her mouth self-consciously and mumbling something about morning breath. Joel chuckled at her, moving her hand away and planting a soft, closed-mouth kiss against her lips.

Her smile grew, hazy vision flickering around the sun-lit bedroom as realisation dawned on her, “What time is it?”

Joel’s own smile faltered as he cleared his throat, glancing over at the alarm clock again, “Five-to-six.”

“Shit,” She groaned, a hand settling on her forehead, “I should probably leave. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Joel shook his head at her, “You ain’t got nothing to apologise for. I like having you here.”

She pecked his lips again, fondness creeping through her at the man’s admission, “I like being here. But I should go before Sarah wakes up.”

Joel caught her arm as she moved to crawl out of the bed, “Stay.”

“What?”

“Sarah knows you’ve been coming around and leaving early in the morning.” He told her, thumb smoothing circles against her wrist, “She says she’s happy for me, but she said that she won’t approve until you start bringing that damn dog of yours over here when you come.”

Y/n chuckled, her eyes growing a thin red rim along her waterline, “What are you saying?”

“I’m asking you to stay. Every damn night you spend here, you go rushing out like this is just a quick fuck, but I think we both know that it’s a lot more than that. Just come back to bed, please.”

Y/n shook her head at him, glancing over at the rising sun through the blinds in contemplation before she finally shrugged, crawling back into the bed and settling against his naked form with a sigh, her hand resting on his chest as she massaged small circles into his sweaty flesh. Both of them relaxed into one another, enjoying the silence of the early morning and dreading the unavoidable fate of the alarm going off in the coming hour.

NOVEMBER 27, 1999

Y/n tapped her nails against the hardwood of the tabletop rhythmically, doing her best not to make her dissociation too clear as her friends and family chattered back and forth. Her mother was busy on her left hand side, sharing dozens of her favourite childhood photographs to Y/n’s friends with a fondness that only a mother could have, while the seat to her left was empty. The watch that she’d received as a gift from her parents sat on her wrist, the time ticking away as grief settled in her stomach, the realisation that he simply wasn’t coming eating away at her pride.

Her birthday was not something that she generally liked to celebrate, but knowing that her parents, siblings, and a few members of her extended family had orchestrated a trip to visit and celebrate with her had her counting down the days, especially after she had convinced her unofficial boyfriend to join them for dinner at one of the nicest wallet-friendly restaurants in Austin. Now, as she sat silently and watched as her friends laughed and cooed over possibly the most embarrassing photos of her while picking at their slices of birthday cake, her mind only wandered to where exactly he was, and how much more fun she would be having if she were warding him off of any of those photographs–especially all of the ones from her junior high years.

She hadn’t had the chance to speak to him at all that day, having woken up after he had already left for work and dropped Sarah off at school. At the time, Y/n had smiled to herself, thanking him mentally for allowing her to sleep in on her birthday, though she was beginning to wonder if she should have taken the lack of birthday wishes as a sign.

She actively avoided Stephanie’s gaze, wanting to escape the oncoming I told you so, and made as little eye contact as possible with her mother, who watched her sympathetically, and her father, who silently raged over the presence of the empty chair. Y/n now felt embarrassed over how much she’d actually gushed over the man to her family before dinner, wondering if maybe she was more invested in him than he was in her. After all, he had yet to officially ask her to be his girlfriend, despite the fact that she and Manny had taken up residence in his home at least four nights a week and that she had been included in more recent movie nights with him and Sarah.

Maybe she was reading into it too much–something must have happened. Something happened to Sarah, or maybe Tommy had been locked up again. There was no way that Joel had forgotten her birthday, there was simply no way.

– – –

Joel’s feet ached, crying out in pain with every step and sighing in relief as he finally kicked off his heavy boots. The crew that he’d brought on for his most recent and highest paying job to date had given him hell that day, leaving him aching for nothing more than a hot shower and a peaceful night at home with his best girls. He hated having to tack on extra hours to his day, but not arriving home until after ten was something that he would have to deal with in order to finish the job, and he was hoping to save up to take Y/n and Sarah on a little getaway for a weekend in the near future.

The kitchen was dim when he stepped in, and he was somewhat surprised when he discovered no plate of food left for him in the microwave, nor was there a pan of leftovers in the fridge. Instead, there was a single empty carton of a microwavable dinner on the counter along with an empty can of Pepsi. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, he shrugged it off, though he had grown accustomed to Y/n bringing dinner over and making sure that it was ready for him on days that he worked late.

Soft footsteps rushed down the stairs, Sarah rounding the corner with a wide grin on her face as she held a small piece of paper in her hands.

“Hey babygirl,” Joel kissed her head softly as he moved into the living room, even more confused when he did not find Y/n curled up on the couch with a stack of her textbooks, as she so often did while waiting for him to return.

“Hi dad,” Sarah’s smile dropped, glancing back into the entryway in confusion, “Where’s Y/n? I made this card at school today but I figured I’d wait until after you guys came back to give it to her.”

The blood in Joel’s veins ran cold, his heart skipping a beat at the sudden realisation of why his house appeared to be so void of his girlfriend, “Fuck.”

“Dad?” Sarah’s wide eyes narrowed, all too used to her father’s undiagnosed case of short-term memory loss, though he had never ever forgotten something like this before.

“Shit,” He swore again, snatching his keys off of the counter and rushing to jam his feet back into his uncomfortable boots, “Sarah, go to bed. I’ll be back later tonight.”

The girl watched helplessly as her father raced out the door, tears welling in her eyes as she stared down at the happy picture she had pasted into the card and frowning as she feared the worst.

– – –

Joel arrived at the restaurant just before eleven. He knew it was a long shot, as the reservation was for seven-thirty, which he had purposefully written down and stuck to the fridge so that he would not forget. The few remaining staff inside shook their heads in pity at the man, quickly coming to understand his situation as he rushed inside, asking about the reservation with a bouquet of flowers in his grasp.

His shoulders slumped as he parked in his driveway, trudging across the lawn into the neighbouring yard and knocking firmly on the door. He waited a few moments, cursing quietly as he got no response and knocking again.

His frown deepened when the door swung open, a fuming Stephanie standing in his way. Her face burned scarlet, fists clenched at her side as she took in Joel’s pitiful appearance. She took a step forward, joining Joel on the front step and closing the door behind her.

“The fuck do you want?”

“Where’s Y/n?” He asked, ignoring her bluntness.

“She doesn’t wanna talk to you,” the girl sneered at him. “It’s one thing to stand someone up, even to forget their birthday, but to embarrass her like that in front of her family?” She scoffed, “you know, I warned her about you, but I took no pleasure in being right. You should have seen her tonight, barely spoke at all.”

The metaphorical knife in Joel’s gut twisted at her words, the fist clenching the bouquet tightening even further around the stems. He could picture her; all dolled up, chatting with her family as she eagerly awaited his arrival, her pretty smile dampening as time passed and eventual tears in her eyes as she realised the truth–he had forgotten about her.

“Just let me talk to her,” he begged, “Please.”

Stephanie shook her head, “I think it’s best if you never show your face on my property again, Miller.”

“Joel?” Both of their eyes turned at the sound of Y/n’s voice, finding her peeking around the door curiously. “Steph, can you give us a minute?”

The woman sent Joel one final glare, patting her roommate on the shoulder before slipping back into the house.

If the knowledge of what he’d done hadn’t been enough, Y/n’s appearance was the final blow to his gut. Her eyes were bloodshot, cheeks swollen and marked with visible remnants of tears. She wrung her fingers together anxiously, keeping her gaze lowered in shame as she closed the door behind her and turned to face him.

“Baby–”

“Don’t.” Y/n interrupted, “Just explain.”

He sniffled, “I can’t explain it, or excuse it. We got held up at work, and I really need this job to be done and over with already. I’m so sorry, baby.”

She shook her head, lifting her sleeve to wipe at the underside of her nose, “You didn’t even say goodbye before you left this morning. Did you even remember at all?”

Joel bit his lip, “I’m sorry. Let me–”

“Joel,” Her voice cracked, “I love you.” His heart soared as she spoke those words for the first time, then shattered as she continued, “I understand that I’m not your first priority–that’ll always be Sarah and I can’t blame you for that. But, fuck, you suggested the restaurant, Joel. You spoke to my mom over the phone and promised her the best steak in town, and she sure seemed to like it, but you weren’t even there. I won’t ever be your first priority, but I can’t be your last, either.”

“Y/n–”

“I think my cousins liked it, you know.” She continued, wiping at her cheeks, “They’re the type to pray for your downfall, and I’m sure they were loving every second of the dinner once everyone realised that you weren’t coming. Hell, all I did all night was talk about how amazing you were, and then–” Y/n cut herself off with a quiet sob. “You should probably leave.”

“Don’t do this,” Joel cupped her face, dropping the flowers to the deck recklessly as he wiped the tears away from her cheeks with his thumbs, “Tell me what to do. Hit me, yell at me, do something, but don’t ask me to walk away.”

She looked into his eyes, and for a moment, Joel felt hopeful that she might actually listen to him, though all hope was quickly diminished as he removed herself from his grasp, reaffirming her statement as she stepped back into the house.

“You should probably leave.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou #hbo the last of us #Spotify

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formosusiniquis · 1 year

Text

y'know like barbie

ao3

It's Erica who gives him the idea, incidentally. Though she carries herself with a maturity that far surpasses the boys most days and though she's been through multiple life altering events, she does continue to only be eleven. Which is, it turns out, prime babysitting age.

The Sinclairs are going out of town overnight, it's their anniversary -- 18 blissful years, since our marriage can vote we thought we deserved a night away -- and they don't want Erica to spend the night home alone.

Enter Steve, who the Sinclairs trust with their children and who is inexplicably the only person Erica would accept staying the night with her. Steve honestly didn't believe it even as Mrs. Sinclair was saying it. But he smiles and nods, looks over the emergency numbers on the fridge when they're pointed to, nods at the money on the counter for food that he probably won't take, and waves as they walk out the door promising that he and Erica will be fine for the night and not to worry.

It's only when their car is out of the driveway and the door is shut that Steve realizes he isn't really a babysitter. He is a keep children alive while in a dangerous situation and when the situation is over drive them around because you feel bad that their childhoods have been marred by trauma-er which doesn't have quite the same ring as babysitter, and it's a lot harder to say with that rude tone the boys have been favoring. He also realizes that he's never actually dealt with children, or not girl children. The boys had all been older than Erica, when he had started keeping them alive. Max was definitely basically a teenager when he started really dealing with her; and she was usually okay to do what the boys wanted to do, like go to the arcade. Hopper didn't really trust him with El and that was fine, he wasn't sure he trusted himself with El either.

It put him in an awkward spot now though. Staring at Erica in her kitchen, a little afraid to ask the question on the front of his mind which was "What now?"

So he asks the second question on his mind, "What do you want to do that isn't eat ice cream all night?"

Say what you will about Steve Harrington, and a lot has been said, but he always keeps his promises and he always brings a pint of ice-cream for Erica to have when he comes over to the Sinclair house. Tonight he brought three, all different weird flavors he thought she'd like to try.

"Why can't I eat ice cream all night?" She says it with a challenge in her eyes, but he'd bet dollars to donuts that she's just doing it to make him sweat. "Because I've seen you eat ice cream, we've only got enough for two hours at most." His hand migrates as if of its own mind to his hip. "You need more than two people for Dungeons and Dragons, right?"

Her brows raise, for the first time since he's met her Erica Sinclair is stunned silent. Maybe she's just surprised he got the name right.

It lasts about as long as it takes him to notice it. "You'd play Dungeons and Dragons with me?" There's something fragile in the way she asks, and there is the eleven year old girl she's meant to be.

"Sure, you'd have to show me how, but if that's what you want to do I'm game."

Eyes narrowed in a distinctly intimidating way he kind of thinks she stole from Nancy, he does his best to make his sincerity clear on his face. "We need more than two people, but I've got something else we can do if you think your fragile manhood can take it."

He's got a retort at the tip of his tongue about just what his manhood can take and remembers just in time that yeah probably shouldn't make a joke like that in front of an actual child. "My pride isn't that delicate, I think I can handle anything you dish out."

"Famous last words."

He follows her to her bedroom, waiting outside the doorway to let her space stay private until he's told to come in. A clear plastic tub slides out from under her bed, out of sight but easily accessible and when the lid pops off he gets why. Rows of Barbies stacked neatly on top of each other, a mass grave for childhood. Steve has a stuffed bear, fur rubbed off of one ear, tucked up on the shelf of his closet that also got put away sooner than he would have chosen to, when it was too babyish.

“Alright, so who is the, like, elven warrior.”

“That’s not how you play Barbies.”

It’s snapped so fast that he thinks it embarasses her. He tactfully avoids eye contact, pulling out a doll with blonde hair snipped into a professional, if uneven, bob and a green skirt set. She's missing a shoe. “Then how do I play Barbies?”

“That one just won the Nobel Peace Prize, she solved world hunger, but she has plans to kill the Barbie who won the prize in Physics because she stole Barbie One’s research and gave it to NASA claiming it was her own.”

“Right, of course.” This was the kind of shit that happened on Dallas, only Barbie had a lot more awards. “And they’re all called Barbie?”

“Except for Ken, but Ken doesn’t do anything.”

“Well if Barbie just won the Peace Prize wouldn’t she use Ken to kill Barbie so she doesn’t get caught.”

Erica manages a look that is both condescending and considerate. “Barbie can do anything, including get away with murder; but she wouldn’t want to dirty her hands with that sort of thing.”

“And if Ken goes to jail it’s no loss.”

“Right.”

So maybe it's more accurate to say that Dustin actually starts it.

Dustin with the shittiest attitude this side of the Ohio, something Robin blames him for.

“Like father, like son.”

“Dustin doesn’t even know his dad.”

“I mean you and Eddie, dingus.”

“I am not that kid's dad. A brotherly figure at best, strong male role model more likely.”

“He’s a bitch because you are, Steve. Maybe if your and Eddie’s love language wasn’t being as bitchy as possible it wouldn’t have rubbed off on your kid.”

“Please don’t put Dustin and rubbing off in the same paragraph let alone the same thought wave.”

Dustin comes sprinting into Family Video on a Tuesday afternoon. “Steve! I need your car.”

“Did you learn how to drive when I wasn’t paying attention?”

“Obviously, I meant I need you too.” His hands are on his hips, eyes rolled. Shit maybe he did get it from Steve. “There’s this theoretical physicist coming to Notre Dame to give a talk on the Multiverse Theory.”

Steve was allowing himself a second to consider whether this was worth it, for once, instead of just blindly agreeing to drive Dustin wherever. The drive sucked ass, but it would put him close enough to Chicago that he could try to find a music store that would carry albums from the international metal bands Eddie couldn’t stop talking about.

It was a second too long for Dustin. “Steve, a theoretical physicist-”

See Steve had this suspicion that the kids did actually think he was an idiot. He was pretty sure that none of them, hell maybe none of Hellfire, save for Lucas realized that every athlete in the school had to keep up at least a 2.5 GPA. Which might not have been anything to write home about but Steve kept a 3.2 for most of high school, until the multiple concussions started to catch up with him. He wasn’t stupid, was the point and even if they didn’t think he was an idiot in a mean way he was a little sick of the shit.

“I know, like Barbie.”

That shuts Dustin up real quick.

“N- no, not like Barbie! Barbie is some girl's toy.”

“Excuse me?” Robin, who told Steve that she would not help him parent his children on work days or any other day ending in y had remembered that Martes doesn’t have one and her shift was almost over. “What does that mean, exactly, a girl’s toy?”

“And,” Steve adds, because he can and because Eddie made him drive him to fucking Bloomington because he was fixated on time travel and needed access to some science journal that only existed at Indiana U apparently, “Barbie is on a research team looking for the Higgs particle so she can start figuring out time travel.”

The bell chiming as Dustin leaves has never sounded sweeter.

He’ll definitely end up taking the twerp to stupid Notre Dame.

The thing is that Steve thinks he’s never really stopped being a bitch.

He doesn’t want to stop. He likes being bitchy. It’s fun, when you’re doing it with people you like it’s pretty funny, and honestly he’s kinda like Spiderman. With great power comes great responsibility, he’s only bitchy responsibly now.

And it’s actually perfectly responsible as an older brother type babysitter figure to correct the behavior of the younger siblings by being bitchy. If they don’t learn at home they’ll go out in the world thinking that kind of behavior is acceptable, see Steve Harrington in his early high school days who talked to people like his father did.

So when Mike interrupts El with, “I’m not going to ask Steve, he probably doesn’t even know what a Pulitzer is either.”

He says, “Oh, yeah like Barbie won. Or Nancy will someday, probably. It’s a journalism award, Wheeler.”

And when Lucas corrects, “I don’t actually think you can win an award for comics. It’s still really great though, Will!”

“Barbie won the Kirby Award in 1985 for best artist, I’m sure Will is soon to follow.”

Or when Nancy tells Holly, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to be something important instead?”

“You could be an actress and do something cool like go to space if you want, Hols, like Barbie.” And maybe he says it with a little more bitch than he should that time, but he’s seen the ballerinas in Nancy’s room, she didn’t always want to be an investigative journalist.

It gets to be second nature. When someone starts being shitty about something or to lighten the mood.

Erica doubts whether she should run for student council. It's her first step to being actual president, like Barbie.

Dustin makes a crack about Steve's possible future prospects when he butts in on a conversation between Steve and Robin. "I could do all three, I could be a counselor and a hair stylist and an engineer. Maybe I'll add EMT too, Barbie wouldn't stop at three, why should I?"

Or when Mike sneers at him, "What are you a cop?" All because Steve told him not to buy weed now that Eddie had stopped dealing.

"Ew, no, because you look like a fresh-faced little narc trying to be cool and you're gonna get ripped off."

"What so not like Barbie?"

"The Barbie world has achieved equality at a level that it doesn't need the cops." Eddie sometimes has to get high after a run in with Powell or Calahan who he still doesn't really trust after the spring. Steve has been treated to many a lecture on why the police were a waste of resources.

He lets Mike sit with that for a minute before he adds, "Like Barbie, I am very cool and know what it looks like when I'm being taken for a ride. If you're gonna get pot from someone other than Eddie, ask Hop where he used to get all of his shit."

It doesn't feel stupid, until El comes running into the cabin one afternoon that Steve has decided to join the rebuilding effort. It’s actually just him and Hop, who has started trying to quietly parent him, something he’s not entirely convinced isn’t revenge for telling Wheeler that Hop has smoked pot before. Steve is pretty sure El was crying when she came in, something he bumps up to a certainty when he sees how awkward Hop looks right now.

“You mind taking that kid? It’s been a long time since high school.” he rubs the back of his neck, Steve does appreciate that he has the decency to feel weird about asking. “If it’s anything outside of big brother shit I can take over.”

He does let himself get suckered by that big brother line.

El is facedown on her bed in a clear ‘leave me alone I’m crying’ pose but he figures he’s already here it’s not like he can turn around and tell Hop that he was too afraid to approach a crying teenage girl. Like that wasn’t the whole reason he’d been sent in the first place. “Hey Ellie, can I come in?”

She sits up, tear tracks plain on her face but no more are falling, and nods in that endearing, aggressively certain way she’s got. “Is everything okay?” He pauses and asks, “Was it Mike?” because he knows that’ll be the first thing Hopper asks when Steve comes back out.

“You are worse than Dad.”

“That stings, Ellie Bell.”

She takes a deep breath, steeling an already impressive will, “Lucas says it is okay to just want to be happy right now, but all they talk about is what they are going to do. Dustin is talking about going to admission early, Will talks about talking to Dad and Joyce about art school, Lucas worries about his sports and scholarships, and Mike talks about classes that count twice. I do not know what I want to be. I do not know why I have to be anything.”

“You guys have been through a lot. I don’t think anyone would blame you for taking time to just be a kid.”

“What if I never want to be something? What if I do not ever want to go to college?”

He’s made his way over to the bed with her, sits tentatively on the edge like he’s seen Joyce do before. “Then you don’t. You’ll probably have to get a job at some point, but that doesn’t have to be what you are. Lucas isn’t a landscaper just because he mows lawns in the summer.”

“You don’t think Dad would be upset?” she asks.

“I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would really make Hop mad. And you might change your mind. I've been out of school for almost two years and I’m only thinking about college now. Or you could go to college and change your mind about what you want to be. You could be a hundred things, you could be anything! Like Barbie.”

He feels like an idiot almost immediately. A jerk quickly after that. He’s made El’s genuine crisis part of his stupid running joke. But something settles in the room. The underlying tension, the thing that had the hair on the back of his neck raised. He realizes, now, that her powers had probably also been on edge.

"Like Barbie." She says it with a graven seriousness, like Steve's dumb little joke is a mantra now.

"Yeah, and you're a sophomore you don't have to have your whole life figured out right now. And don't take life advice from Henderson anyway, he thought it was a good idea to raise an Upside Down slug as a pet."

He mostly just used it to be a bitch though. Because it was fun. No, it was what he was good at. So good at it he didn't even have to try.

Because Steve had a plan to be bitchy. Specifically to Mike Wheeler who kept flirting with Steve’s boyfriend while taking advantage of his hospitality. Sure it was at their stupid Dungeons and Dragons game, and yeah Steve was the one who said they could host the game at his house now that Eddie had graduated. Yes, he knew Eddie didn't mean anything by it when he responded and usually didn't flirt back with the kids. But it was still the kind of behavior that had to be gently corrected, for Mike's sake because if he didn't stop things were going to get drastic.

His initial plan is already in action. He encouraged El to come along to watch the Party play. It was, admittedly, a half hearted plan. Wheeler got so awkward anytime El was around he mostly just hoped that would keep him from trying anything.

It isn't. Eddie starts to describe a new character, "Blonde and statuesque, she has a long bow in hand and delicate elven features."

And even though El is sitting a few feet from him Mike perks up the way he always does when there's a new NPC to flirt with. He is going to have to have a talk with Eddie about letting the kid try out a bard.

He does at least have one other tool in his belt. "Oh, like Barbie."

Steve knew what he'd get as he said it. A groan from Dustin, who falls for this as being sincere about as often as he falls for the dumb-dumbs and dipshits line -- which is everytime for the record. Will and Lucas keep their laughs small, enough that they're covered by Erica's snort. The original Hellfire crew mostly looks confused, it's becoming less and less their default as they warm up to the Steve he is rather than the Steve they thought they remembered; but he likes to keep them on their toes.

Eddie is charmed. He can tell. Sees him duck his head behind his screen and his binders, trying to preserve the stern and scary dungeon master image. That apparently isn't possible if you're smiling like an idiot at your stupid boyfriend, so he's been told.

And Mike has maybe been on the wrong end of the joke a few more times than everyone else. He turns an interesting shade of red, two parts anger and one part embarrassed is Steve's guess. The foot stomp is unexpected, but he expects its been passed down the Wheeler line as a shared signal of outrage. "Not like Barbie, this isn't some stupid kids game. She's probably a hot, wisened archer ready to reward us for helping her village, not some stupid doll that you're obsessed with."

Eddie's blank face with the twitchy eyes has fallen into place when he sits back up from behind his screen. His things aren't going according to plan, panicked face. "I think that's a good place to end things this week. Wheeler, Henderson, Jeff, and Lady Applejack you've all cleared enough experience to level right? Do that before next week."

Steve knows enough to keep his mouth shut while everyone packs up to leave. Sends a small smile to Erica on her way out to the family minivan, he knows she struggles a little being the youngest at the table even if she won't say it. He has to imagine that the outburst had stung a bit.

"You gotta be nicer to little Wheeler." Eddie chides once everyone is gone, halfhearted at best when he's telling Steve off into the soft skin of his neck. When he feels the admonishment more than hears it.

"I'm not mean to Mike." He says on instinct, he does try not to be. "And he started it."

"Definitely think you started the Barbie thing, Sweetheart."

And well, yeah. "I Barbie all the kids equally."

Eddie hmms Steve can feel the vibration of it through his back and on his neck. Eddie is about to start something he better plan on finishing. "He asked Hop where he should get weed."

Oh. "I didn't think he'd actually do it!" And then, "Is that why he keeps flirting with you, revenge?"

"No, he's got a bunch of misplaced jealousy because Will and the girls think you're hot." He toys with the edge of Steve's shirt as he says it. Perpetually cold fingers brushing the clothes warmed skin beneath making him shiver.

"The girls don't think I'm hot."

He hums again, nips at the blush red skin at Steve's neck. "El used to, Max definitely has a taste for jock.

"That's not my fault, you let Mike play a bard." He wishes he didn't sound so desperate.

"Wanted to leave the Paladin spot open for you, baby."

"I'm starting to feel convinced, we could go upstairs and you could show me your character sheet."

The things he'll say to get laid.

"Don't think I can do that Stevie, smooth as a Ken doll down there. Could show you the actual character sheet though."

His back is cold as Eddie pulls away, smirking unrepentant as he lets Steve have the tiniest taste of his own medicine.

"Barbie has a very active sex life, actually." He's never been one not to double down. "Let me show you the fun we can have without getting your dick out."

He does leave it alone for a little while, even though he really, really doesn't want to. But despite what his friends, his fifth grade report card, and his mom might think; Steve is capable of keeping a hold of his worst impulses when he wants to.

So he lets opportunity pass him by.

He makes no comment about Barbie when Eddie talks about how John Carpenter is a film auteur. Not even when Dustin tries to define auteur for him. Incorrectly, but Robin comes to Steve's defense.

Barbie goes unmentioned, barely when an argument breaks out about Nobel prize winners, of all things. He thinks the kids argue more now than they ever have like it's the only way they have to get their bloodlust out now that the Upside Down was closed. He was quickly boxed out of the conversation, even if Erica kept sending him little glances over everyone's heads. (She'd let him have Peace Prize Barbie a couple weeks ago and maybe he was a little obsessed.)

Holly wants to be a vet now, a singing vet who is also on TV, but mostly a vet. She tells him all about it while he waits for Mike to find his shoes? Definitely not his quarters for the arcade, the day any of them bring those is the day Steve brings the nail bat back out. He’s one impulse purchase away from getting one of those little coin dispenser belts that the employees have -- Gareth just quit, maybe he still had his? Mike's frown is a little less general annoyance at Steve and a little more confusion when he's finally ready to leave and Barbie has gone unmentioned.

He almost breaks again when Eddie starts talking about sports. Or he starts talking about NASCAR which is close enough for Eddie, he has a surprising taste for racing for someone who never wanted to put his van on the starting line at parties. A woman led a Busch Series race for the first time, what a year '86. He's got no opinion on Barbie's ability to drive at all.

He could let a joke go. He could be nice. It wasn't so out of character that it needed this kind of attention.

Mike has forgiven him by the time the next session rolls around. Delayed two weeks after Eddie screamed so loud on stage that he couldn't speak for two days, and then again for Jeff's emergency appendectomy. Eddie has stopped leaving pointed gaps in conversation for Steve to fill with mention of Barbie, he has had his thinking face on instead which is good for Steve about as often as it isn't.

He leaves it alone. A little bit of non-life threatening surprise is good for the soul, or something. Listen, he’s made it this far by only asking questions when shit is about to get really, really bad and Eddie’s thinking face has only resulted in something bad once or twice -- and they probably should have spent more than a couple minutes negotiating that particular kink anyway.

When the kids start showing up and nothing has come from the thinking face, he assumes it was just for them anyway. He settles in to see whatever shit Eddie is going to do.

"From the ditch you pull a human man, a paladin. His plate is dirtied by his time on the ground but clearly gleams in its typical state. He's handsome, a square jaw and fluffy brown hair-"

"Ugh is this Steve? You already made us do a quest for him," Mike complains, maybe he hasn’t completely forgiven Steve for that last interruption.

Steve has, by his own count been the inspiration for at least three NPCs for this campaign: a white light faction rogue, Sol, that the party had to rescue from the dungeons of the nightmare King after he was caught sneaking into the bedrooms of the prince -- like it was Steve's fault that Wayne had super hearing; a young fighter from the gladiatorial combat ring who helped the party rescue a group of kidnapped children that were going to be used as bait in the next round of fights; and the most obvious Prince Stefan who sent the party on a quest to kill his betrothed a Duke called Thomas the Boarish and rescue his knight Rowen and beloved Bard Edwin -- it's not like he could unkiss Tommy, and he could be a dick but boarish was dramatic.

He was not this paladin, assuming Eddie was telling the truth about saving the Paladin he'd made for Steve.

"Cut the out of character chatter, Michael, before it starts counting in game. The Paladin before you is handsome in a bland, approachable, non-threatening way," Mike opens his mouth again, how is that not like Steve surely perched at the edge of his tongue and stopped in its tracks by elbows from Erica and Joey. "He introduces himself to his rescuer, Will the Wise, 'Thank you, kind sir, I would have been down there for ages before my lady noticed my absence. I am Sir Kenneth.'"

"What deity does he serve?" Will asks, something suspicious drawing across his face.

"Is there a holy symbol on his armor?" Gareth follows up. Gareth has been backing a lot of Will's plays lately, Steve thinks something might be going on there but he hasn't wanted to deal with Eddie teasing him for being a meddling matchmaker, again.

"There is no identifiable holy symbol on his clothes or armor." Eddie says, there's a mischief in his eyes, the way he tilts his head with quiet challenge and smiles.

"What God do you serve?" Erica asks, blunt and to the point. She gets cranky when her rogue doesn't have anything to stab.

"'The Lady in Pink,' he answers."

Any time Eddie reveals lore shit there's always a bunch of people talking over top of each other. It always turns into the kind of mass blob of shouting that Steve has a hard time parsing out, especially these days. Eddie somehow manages to distinguish not only people but the things they're saying and keeps his cool enough to keep the story going.

"Roll your insight, Gareth. Jeff, with a 15 history check, you have heard some whisperings from your homeland about a newly ascended goddess but not a name. Dustin, you're not getting shit with a 5 don't even try that but my back story says shit with me. Will, pretty sure that's a cleric spell but I'll let you have it he's a Neutral Good alignment. An 18, shit, yeah Garebear he does seem to be telling the truth that is the deity he follows; but that isn't the whole truth, you know a lot of the newer pantheon have a colloquial name and a true name."

"I'm sorry," Lucas says, "we aren't familiar with your lady. What can you tell us about her? Why would she leave you there? And that's a 14 on persuasion before you even ask."

"Why would I have asked that, Sinclair the elder? He has stars in his eyes when he speaks, 'before she ascended she was already limitless. A powerful warrior, an expert marksman, a mage beyond compare. Her power grew and grew until the only place left to explore was godhood.'"

"And what's her real name, if we wanted to spread the word?" Joey asks.

"'Oh she's everything. She's the lady in pink, she's the goddess with the golden mane, but before she ascended she favored one name I assume she has kept it.'"

"What is it?" Mike asks, perched at the edge of his seat.

"Oh no," Dustin whispers, a dawning horror on his face.

"'Barbara, though she preferred it shortened. Nicknames you call them," Steve sees the joke, knows where this is going a split second before reality breaks through the haze of fantasy for the players around the table. Eddie's smirking now, smile too pleased and too attractive. "'Y'know like Barbie?'"

#steddie #steve harrington #steddie fic #and in 1996 when steve and eddie are expecting their first kid - a daughter #erica gifts them the barbie camper so steve has something while he waits for the real thing #listen you know that oh like barbie post with the steve speaking image below it #i saw that and this happened #i just wanted to try out a little steve and erica bonding #and it turned into steve being a bitchy big brother #steve and eddies love language is being dicks #but their secondary love language is not letting the bit die and i do believe that #so eddie had to take it up when steve set it down

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igotanidea · 10 months

Text

Bonding: Damian Wayne x sister!reader

Request: from the prompt list : 4: "Didn't know you liked being pinned to the ground this much

Warning: nothing, it;s just fun and fluff, most likely set in the WFA universe.

***

„What happened to you two?” Dick could barely hold back the terror in his voice upon watching his younger siblings. Jason however was not so considerate and straight forward started laughing at Y/N and Damian, the former with the nose swollen and red like a Rudolf and the latter with childish patches all over his forearms.

“Have you two escaped the circus? Sure as hell with such look you would fit there!” he let out a laugh so loud it captured the attention of no one else than Bruce, who became alerted in an instant. It wasn’t usual for Jason to be this happy and chuckling and it was …. suspicious.

Similar to Dick’s, his face dropped upon seeing his kids in such damaged state and just sighed deeply.

“What did you do?” he rubbed his forehead, looking up to the sky probably wondering what mistake did he make (well, the question should have been – what mistake didn’t he make?). Never before had he looked so fatherly, like when Y/N and Damian started their mischief.

Y/N was the middle child, younger than Dick and Jason, but older than Tim and Damian, but Bruce could swear that sometimes she acted like a literal five year old. Especially when any of her brothers started messing up with her things. Especially when Damian did. No one could ever tell what atrocities she could resort to when he grabbed something that wasn’t his.

“It was all his fault!” Y/N cried out, her voice muffled by the swollen nose and she sounded more like a wounded animal rather than a human being.

“I am beyond your level, Y/N and cannot be blamed for…..”

“SIT!” Bruce growled in desperation, but neither of his kids listened. If anything they started bantering even more.

“Not many parental successes on your account, right Bruce?” Jason mocked, but the oldest Wayne didn’t bother answering. Instead he grabbed Damian by the collar and yanked him back and in the air so his feet started dangling above the ground. Luckily Y/N was too tall to do that to her as well.

“This is derogatory” Damian crossed his arms and pouted, the funniest look of her brother making Y/N laugh loudly “put me down, father so I can kick her ass again and….”

“Again?” Bruce eyes focused on his youngest son “what do you mean, again?”

“Nothing!” Y/N chimed in, desperate to keep some kind of secret

“Oh, are you ashamed to admit you got beaten by me in the combat, dear sister?”

“Shut up you little rascal!” Y/N threw herself at him, but this time it was Dick who grabbed her and hold her back

“What did he do?” Grayson asked, knowing well enough how much of a menace Damian could be

“NOTHING!” the boy struggled against his father’s grip

“Who’s afraid to admit what now?!” Y/N smirked at him.

“Ok, that’s it” clearly it was Jason who lost patience first “talk or I’ll draw blood.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” His sister threw him a daring gaze

“Wanna try me, sis? You already got a swollen nose and I can bet that this guy you like…..”

“SHUT UP JASON!”

“wait, there’s a guy?” Bruce was confused “who is he? Why didn’t I met him? How much does he know about us?”

“Not the time, Bruce!”

“LET ME GO DICK!!”

“Sorry, sunshine can’t really do that. Unless you tell us what happened.”

“fine!” she hissed “fine! I’ll tell you!”

An hour ago

“DAMIAN WAYNE!” her voice echoed through the whole Wayne Manor and made the glassed windows shake. Honestly, how could no one in the family of vigilante hear that was beyond her. “you little piece of shit, where the hell are you!?”

“Have you called me sister?” Damian emerged from his room, looking nothing but innocent with the play-pretend smile. But Y/N knew better. She was fairly aware that he was skillful in using that Wayne gene trying to charm people. Too bad his eyes were glistening with mischief.

“You can’t play me, you demon.”

“Did something happened?” he titled his head in curiosity, observing his sister getting more and more angry. Oh, how entertaining it was to see her face get red, her fist clench. Fascinating how girl’s hormones worked.

But clearly, he underestimated Y/N. Yes, she was an emotional young woman surrounded by no less than four brothers, but she was also an adopted Wayne. And the realization of that fact made her calm down. Damian wanted her to get mad. Which meant he had some sort of plan.

“My little, sweet, wonderful, lovely brother.” She quickly changed the method of acting

“Huh?” Damian frowned, still not used to people acting nice towards him. This was…. unexpected. Y/N was clearly cunning and he had to be prepared.

“Tell me, did you happen to see my phone somewhere around?”

“No.” the answer was clearly too fast to be convincing.

“Really?” she smiled and looked over his shoulder inside his room. The perks of being taller and seeing more. “Then what is lying there on your desk?”

“That’s mine.”

“Damian…..” her voice became serious, her posture tensing “give it back to me. Now.”

“No.” he crossed arms, mimicking her position. Oh, they were both preparing for a fight, neither even beginning to consider the option of relenting. “does father know about your little crush?”

“YOU WERE READING MY TEXTS?!!?”

“Do you even realize in how much danger you put us because of your silly little….”

“AH!!” he did not get to finish the sentence when she went at him taking him by surprise. However, not enough of a surprise that he didn’t manage to step back. Instead of pining him to the ground she tripped and dashed into his room, immediately reaching towards the bed to grab her mobile, but Damian grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

“You little rascal!” she yelled, when they started a real Batman-style fight. “It’s mine!”

“it’s a violation of the rules!” he spat back “we’re not supposed to be in a relationship with civilians!”

“what would you know about relationships?!” Y/N blocked his punch, turning around and tripping him up. “you were raised by freaking assassins!”

“How bad we don’t get to choose family, right?” he hissed, falling on his back on the ground but immediately getting up and attacking her again.

Y/N was good, skilled and intuitive, but Damian was smaller and maybe a bit faster and that’s why she did not see it coming when he glanced off the mattress and landed on her back, trying to tackle her to the ground

“GET OFF ME!” she yelled trying to untangle his arms from her neck

“Not a chance!”

They were struggling so hard that at one point this fight moved towards the corridor and with just one wrong step they started falling down the stairs, still doing their best to damage one another. Damian was pulling at Y/N hair, while she covered his eyes in an attempt to blind him. It took a few minutes of weltering, grunting and dapping before they ended up at the base of the stairs.

“Auch…..” they both moaned in unison, their bones and bones already bruised and damaged. It really did hurt.

“HAHA! I won!” Damian yelled as he realized that the position in which they landed allowed him to sit on top of her sister, his weight holding her down.

“Get off me you idiot…..” she whined trying to push him away, but not succeeding at all.

“Didn't know you liked being pinned to the ground this much, Y/N” Damian laughed at her poor, week attempt to get rid of him.

“AH!” she cried out again and started waving her hands at him, Damian instantly started the same and now they were laying on the floor, with him still on top of her, acting like toddlers and emitting battle cries.

“MASTER DAMIAN! MISS Y/N!”

Shit.

Alfred.

The butler just sighed deeply, too used to many very strange views and behaviors around the manor. Too many to care and ask questions.

“Please get up from the floor. Miss Y/N, your nose is bleeding and as for you, Master Damian you got bloody scratches all over your arms.”

“Sorry Alfred.” They followed every word Alfred said to them and stood beside him with their heads hanging low.

“Let’s patch you two up.” Alfred motioned them towards the living room, gathering medical supplied on the way.

Now.

“And he gave you a animal shaped patch!” Jason laughed so hard he had to grab his belly, almost rolling of the couch

“Didn’t you hear a word, Jace? He took her phone! She had every right to be angry and act irrational…” Dick took his sister’s site

“Hm.” Bruce grunted

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but good job on being stealthy” Jason chucked towards Damian “normally it would be Tim to try and do such thing.”

“Are you taking his side now?” Y/N’s eyes went wide “I can’t believe….. ah!” sudden outburst made her nose bleed even more and she held the nearby cloth tighter to the bruised part of her face. “mhmmmhmhm” she mumbled grumpily

“Hm” Bruce grunted again

“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Dick turned towards his father in a bit of shock. Normally Bruce would be the one to punish them both for disobeying the rules of the Manor but now he was just sitting on the couch, his mind wondering elsewhere.

“no.”

“What?!” four pair of surprised eyes landed on him in pure disbelief of how he acted.

“Wouldn’t make any difference. Another day another fight. Just…. apologize to each other. I’m going to the batcave. Dick, Jason come with me.”

“The hell I’m going to ….” Jason started but the look in Bruce eyes made him relent. And that was how Y/N and Damian ended up alone in the living room, sitting next to each other, eyes on the floor.

“Does it hurt much?” he asked

“Not much more than yesterday. I’ll be fine. “ she shrugged like nothing happened “Do you think they know?”

“About what? Our secret plan to make them all crazy and take over the manor?”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“Not sure. Might need some more observation on the matter.”

“So….. we do it again tomorrow?” she smirked

“Oh, absolutely” he smiled back at her, eyes sparkling. It was always fun to fight with her.

“Then can I have my phone back?”

“Sure, I’ve seen all there was to see. “

“I hate you, Damian.” Y/N grinned looking at him

“I hate you too, sis.” He replied with a smirk

And just like that, they bumped their fists. All was good between them.

****

Meanwhile, Tim was hidden in the batcave, glued to the computer, not realizing anything of the events happening upstairs. He only raised his head once he heard Bruce, Dick and Jason entering.

“Did they do it again?” he asked seeing Bruce’s harrowed face, being enough of an answer “Ha! Life never gets boring with those two troublemakers around!”

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x batsis #damian wayne x you #batfamily x batsis #batboys x batsis

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writers-hes · 10 months

Text

since when? (a. bridgerton x reader)

You grew up with the Bridgertons and for the longest time, Anthony thought of you as a friend…since when did he look at you differently? (friends to lovers, slow burn, the Bridgertons being the best wing men, you look at him but he’s already looking at you….) helpful links: navigation | master lists | rules and guidelines | tag list | fic recs

It was no secret among the Ton that your family was a dear friend to the Bridgertons. Your mother and Violet Bridgerton have been friends since they were children. They shared paper crowns, secrets, joys, and sorrows. They got married in the same year and soon enough, your mother was helping Violet as she birthed Anthony and then Benedict. Soon, it was Violet who helped your mother as she birthed her only child, you.

The Bridgerton household has always been big and it provided your parents some comfort to know that you won’t have to grow up alone. You’d always be surrounded by the Bridgertons and you were. Many a time, the older brothers would sneak into your gardens to tease you while you played with your dolls, a picnic blanket laid on the grass as you waited for Violet to bring Daphne.

“You know, there are other games than dolls,” Colin would tease, his nose scrunching. “Anthony loves to play pall mall. Maybe you’d beat him,”

“Hey! No one can beat me,” Anthony would scold, taking a doll from your hand.

“Anthony! Give me back my doll!” you’d call and he’d run away from you, cackling evilly while his younger brothers inspected your toys curiously. When you’d grow tired, you’d sit on the porch of your house and cry until Anthony came over to you with an apologetic look on his face.

“You took my doll, Anthony! You can’t make girls cry! You can’t make your friend cry too!” you’d sob but Anthony would utter a string of apologies that you’d accept. “I’m your friend, right?”

“Of course. I’m sorry for making you cry,” he’d say. Later in the day, he’d force Benedict to give one of the servants a box of cookies for you and in the morning, he’d sneak off again to see you happily munching on them. He’d steal a piece or two of course, but as a punishment, you’d force him to stay and have a tea party with you.

When you grew older, Anthony was still playful. When he’d bring his friends over while you were having tea with Daphne, he’d pull a face and would ask “What are you doing here again? Do you not have a home?”

“I could say the same,” you shrugged. You were teenagers now and the blows just got better. “With the amount of time you spend in our house, one would think that your family hates you. Guess, I’m right,” you shrugged, the same amount of sarcasm.

“Don’t mind him,” Daphne would say, rolling her eyes. “He’s sulky whenever you’re not around,”

“He’s probably annoyed because he’a got no one to annoy, Daph,” you replied, sipping on tea. She’d smile at you and you’d smile back at the girl whom you’ve always loved as a little sister. “It’s been a while since all of us got together but I understand, of course. The boys have their education to attend to and us…well, we have pianoforte and needlework,”

“They will be coming back soon for a break,” Daphne says. “Perhaps we can all have a picnic?”

And so you all attended a picnic together. It was a summer’s day, families were setting up their own tents in the park for a lovely afternoon. It was unusual to see your family’s tent and the Bridgertons’ right beside each other.

“What is it you’re reading?” Benedict asked, when he saw you. He just got back from schooling two days ago and was back to his old antics.

“Nothing worth mentioning since you can’t read,” you replied with a smile hiding behind the book. “Gregory’s still so young but I bet he can read way better,”

“Hey!” he scolds. “If you must know, I was the best reader in my class as a young boy,”

You laughed. “How have you been, Ben?” You’ve always been softer on Ben and Colin. They’d bother you like brothers did but they never made you cry as a child.

“Same old,” he shrugs, sitting next to you. “I took art history and art as a course for my studies this year,”

“And?”

“I plan on pursuing it,” Ben says. You smiled proudly at him.

“That’s great, Benedict. My husband and I would like to commission you for a painting in the future,” you said. “When you’re famous, please give me a friendly rate!”

“You don’t even have a husband yet,” Benedict shrugged. “Besides, maybe it’ll be your husband who’s going to finance my artistic pursuits,” he hinted and you tilted your head, confused.

“I don’t have a husband…” you trailed off, making Benedict laugh as he saw the gears in your head turning.

“I jest!” he says, making you laugh.

“You are insufferable, Benedict Bridgerton!”

“You are as clueless as I am insufferable,”

It didn’t take long enough for you to make your debut and enter society. It was a big commotion inside your house but a quiet one amongst the Ton. It unnerved you because you were still young. How could your mother not see that you didn’t want to marry yet? She told you that you’d been putting it off for years; now that you were not a teenager. Two and twenty…a little too late to debut but who cared? You were the most beautiful debutante the Ton has ever seen…or at least someone thought so.

“Stop your staring, brother or flies will get inside your mouth,” Colin whispered, leaning ever so slightly to Anthony.

“I am not staring! I’m only surprised,” Anthony replied.

“Well, no one should be surprised,” Benedict added. “She’s of age and she needs to find a husband. Could you imagine? If she marries this year, we could have a little baby to bother next year. Oh, I so want to become an uncle!”

You were looking around nervously. You’ve always hated big gatherings and Lady Danbury’s ball was enormous. At the sight of your three friends, you visibly relaxed, excusing yourself from the gentlemen who approached you (quite rudely) to make a beeline towards them.

“Oh, God. I’m so glad you’re here!” you breathed.

“Lady Danbury would have our eyes for breakfast if we do not attend,” Colin replied. “You look beautiful!”

“Thank you, Colin,” you said, scrunching your nose. You weren’t unfamiliar with Colin’s compliments now and then. He never found it troublesome to say the words one needed to hear to feel comfortable, if not good.

“I was just talking about how much I want to become an uncle,” Benedict said. “Anthony doesn’t want to marry, Daphne’s too young…”

“And you’ve taken me as an unwilling volunteer of your aspirations,” you finished for him, making him chuckle.

“Well, that might be the case. Have you ever had champagne? Libations are usually free-flowing in events like these,” Benedict winked. “In fact, let’s go get champagne after we dance. Come,” he says, extending his hand toward you. You smiled brightly and accepted with your gloved hand, allowing Benedict to lead you to the dancefloor.

“Tsk tsk,” Colin chides Anthony who has not said a word since your arrival. “She’s beautiful, is she not?”

“I suppose,” he mutters before taking an exit.

Upon hearing the news that you have debuted, the girls rushed to your house to hear about last night.

“Did you meet anyone?” Daphne asked eagerly.

“No one,” you replied, seeing as Daphne deflated, you tried to brighten her spirits up. “But…it’s only the first ball. There are many other balls to attend to and bachelors to meet,”

“Are Lady Danbury’s ball as great as everyone makes it out to be?” Francesca asked. “Where are your callers?”

“It is,” you nodded. “I have not danced with anyone last night but Benedict and Colin,” you shared.

Daphne, Eloise, and Francesca were all excited for you. Daphne, mostly, who has always looked up to you as her older sister. Now that you’ve made your debut to society, it could be real. You could finally be her sister.

“And Anthony?” she asked.

“He was brooding the whole night,” you chuckled. “As he always does,”

“I hope whoever you marry is at least smart,” Eloise commented from her chair. “Someone smart enough to hold a conversation…definitely not one of my brothers,”

“Eloise!” you scolded playfully.

“What? It is true,” she shrugged, a glint in her eye.

In a few hours, Anthony comes to fetch his sister. You had been answering the younger girls’ questions patiently, keeping them entertained as you showed them your dresses for the season. Eloise was in the drawing room, drowning herself in her writing.

“Where’s Daphne and Francesca?” Anthony asked.

“Hello to you too, brother,” Eloise greeted. “They’re in Y/N’s bedchamber. She’s showing them some dresses and other things for the season,”

Anthony hummed and made a beeline for your room. It was wide open, your giggles heard in the corridor. Eloise was hot on his tails, trying to see the commotion for herself.

“I hope you’re not giving my sisters any ideas,” he says, leaning on your doorframe. In all of the years he’s known you, he’s never seen your bedchamber. His eyes were darting around quickly, taking note of your books, your table, and paraphernalia that embodied who you were.

“Anthony!” you greet. “Ow!”

He looks at you in alarm, laughing when Francesca apologizes for stepping on your shoes as you taught her how to dance.

“What are you doing, Francesca?” he asked, back straightening to walk inside but he stopped himself, afraid to cross any boundaries. It was Eloise who literally had to shove him slightly.

“It’s okay, Anthony,” you smiled. “I was teaching your sisters how to dance. I’m a great dancer, you know? I can teach you…so you won’t have to step on a poor girl’s foot while you dance,” you teased.

Three girls waited in anticipation but Anthony said nothing.

“No reply?” you asked. “It must be my lucky day, girls.”

“Not that it’s any of my concern but I’m afraid I’m a far better dancer than you’ll ever be. Perhaps, it is I who should teach you? Benedict complained all night because of your dancing,”

“He did not!”

“He did,” he teased, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “Come along, sisters. Mother wants us all for dinner,”

That night, when the three sisters were huddled in the library quietly, they all agreed how wonderful it would be to have you as a part of the family. Unbeknownst to them, their two older brothers also agree.

Anthony peeked outside the window, noticing the line of carriages on the street.

“What’s the commotion outside?” he asked, no one in particular.

“Didn’t you know? Our Y/N was the talk of the ball last night,” Benedict replied. “Such a shame you weren’t there, Anthony. She was seen making an acquaintance with a businessman. He asked if he could call on her today and her mother said yes. Her dance card was filled to the brim, I almost wasn’t able to dance with her,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he watched Anthony. He wasn’t lying, you told him all about it and showed him your dance card. You complained at how tired you were while you both danced. “Maybe we’ll have a nephew or a niece soon, hmm?”

“Can you go accompany me later, Anthony? I want to go to her and see all of these gifts!” Daphne asked. “Do you think someone gifted her a dog?”

“Ask Benedict or Colin to come with you,” he replied sourly.

“I can’t…I have a prior commitment,” Benedict lied. “with Colin,”

“Ah, yes,” Colin added. “I am ready to go to the farm, brother,”

“Come on, Anthony. You could just take me there and leave me. You can come back in a couple of hours!” Daphne begged.

Anthont relented before walking off. He didn’t see how his younger siblings smirked at each other.

Afternoon came and you were tired. You were sitting lazily on the loveseat amongst gift boxes you have yet to open. Luckily, no one gifted you with a dog.

“Y/N!” Daphne called and you smiled, fixing your posture slightly to greet her. “Your gifts! They’re so many!”

“Hello, Daphne,” you greeted. “Anthony, you’re here,”

“Daphne dragged me,” he said, taking a piece of chocolate from the box given to you by some gentleman before plopping down in front of you. “Don’t mind me.”

You looked at Daphne who shrugged.

“Do you want to open them with me?” you asked her, sitting up. “I need your help, you know and you can take whatever you might like,”

“Really?” she asked eagerly. “You’re certain? These might cost a fortune and you’re giving it away?”

“Yes,” you nod. “You can take some for Francesca, Eloise, and Hyacinth too. Besides, you’ll be helping me out. None of these would fit in my room,”

Daphne nods excitedly and picks a box from a shop she knew. She gasped as she takes out a music box with a man and a woman dancing in the middle. She turns the crank and hears a sweet melody.

“Look! The female dancer looks like you,” she says. She digs the box for anything and reads out a card. “Thank you for keeping me company and for making me feel welcomed. Sincerely, A.S..?”

“Alfred,” you told her. Anthony was secretly listening to your conversation. You were on a first name basis now? It annoyed him, he didn’t know why. “We danced last night,”

“What does he look like? Is he handsome?”

“He is!” you giggled, putting away the box that you just opened. “He looks quite intimidating and has a brusque way of speaking but he’s gentle.”

“What are the color of his eyes?” she asked.

“Gray…with hazel and blue,” you replied. “It looks like a dark blue from afar but when you’re closer, you’ll see specks of other colors too,”

“I wish to meet him,”

“Daphne!” Anthony scolded after listening.

“Sorry,” she apologized, a frown on her face.

“It’s okay,” you assured. “You can meet him some other time.”

The Ton fully believed that you were courting. Sightings of you and Alfred around London had been common. You’d have your hands wrapped around his arm while your maid trailed behind. People were so sure that you were courting. How could they not? He was always calling on you or has been seen dancing with you multiple times. It didn’t help that Alfred only danced with you during balls. It didn’t help at all.

“Y/N has been spending so much time with that Alfred lately,” Colin remarked. “They’re always huddled by the dance floor, laughing among themselves. If they weren’t dancing, you’d be certain that they’d be together,”

Colin looked at Benedict discreetly. Daphne and her sisters watched Anthony.

“Maybe there will be a nephew or a niece after all,” Anthony replied with a strained voice. His throat ached as he suppressed an emotion that bubbled in his chest.

The Bridgertons could not be any more wrong. On your first meeting with Alfred, he admitted that he had a girl he loved back home. He hasn’t told her yet, still building his business to fully support her. He only attended this social season to expand his business and had made your acquaintance because your father invested a sum in his business. You both agreed to keep a ruse that you were courting. You weren’t looking to marry and he didn’t want any mamas vulturing him.

He’d been successful in gathering investors. He told you all about his travels and about the woman he left home. He said that they’d visit you sometime soon. Meanwhile, you showed him to London’s high society. You told your father to invite him to his club. He liked dancing and had thought of you as a suitable dance partner. Your parents never minded. The more you spent time with Alfred, the more suitors you had. You’d never know exactly why but Alfred has been telling everyone that you were warm, comforting, and kind.

One afternoon, you were seen with Alfred again, not knowing that the Bridgertons were there in the park too. It was nothing formal. Alfred showed up at your door, asking if you had any plans this afternoon. You said no and asked if you’d like to accompany him to the park. He’ll be leaving in a few days and wanted to spend more time with you before he left.

Anthont watched from the tent as you passed by. You were so consumed with some joke that you didn’t notice the tent.

“Is that Y/N and Sir Alfred?” Daphne asked. “He’s as handsome as she described him! Franscesca, look! I’m going to say hello,” she declared before gathering herself. Anthony ran after his sister who was more than excited to be introduced to the man who had occupied your time. Maybe it was Daphne but maybe it was because he needed to know but either way, he followed.

“Y/N!” Daphne called and you stopped, smiling widely as Daphne neared. You also threw a quick smile towards Anthony.

“Hello, Daphne,” you greeted. “I didn’t know you were here. Had I known, I would have dropped by,”

“It’s alright. I just wanted to say hello to you and…”

Your eyebrows rose and you chuckled.

“Alfred,” your friend introduced himself. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Bridgerton. Y/N has talked so greatly about you. Good afternoon, Viscount Bridgerton,” he greeted and Anthony returned the greeting.

“Alfie—Alfred, you’ve yet to meet the others,” you smiled up at him. Anthony’s heart clenched. Alfie?

“Hey! I told you to stop calling me that,” he chastised playfully. “It ruins my reputation,”

“I apologize, sir Alfie,” you teased. “Anyhow, this is Daphne and Anthony. They’ve been my friends since we were children. They’re like my siblings,”

Alfred’s eyebrows shot up. Maybe to all of them…but that label was disliked by someone. He was looking at him right now.

“Would it be a bother if I introduced Alfred to the rest of the family?” you asked. Daphne shook her head, taking your hand immediately to bring you to their tent, Alfred and Anthony in tow.

“Y/N’s here!” Daphne announced. “She brought Sir Alfred with her,”

“Sorry for the intrusion, everyone,” you apologized. Anthony was about to say that it wasn’t a bother at all. He saw how his siblings’ faces lit up when they saw you. “Everyone, meet sir Alfred. Alfred, meet everyone,”

Everyone introduced themselves. Alfred was charming and perfect for you. Anthony could see that and it made him uncomfortable. He’d been denying the fact for so long and he will continue to do so.

“Alfred is very favorable, is he not?” Violet commented when you both left. You had to go attend an opera show with Alfred for the evening. “Such a handsome man who seems to care deeply for our Y/N. Do you think they’ll be engaged soon?”

“I believe someone else is perfect for our Y/N,” Benedict spoke. “Alfred may be as you described him, mother but I see nothing but friendship between the two of them. Trust me,”

The simple bracelet dangling on your arm made Anthony question Benedict. You told Daphne that you weren’t feeling well today because Alfred left last night. As a parting gift, he gave you a bracelet with a simple pendant. Daphne recalled how puffy your eyes were when she visited. It was obvious that you both held each other dearly. You were just too sad to see him go.

Anthony took it upon himself to light your spirits up again. After a morning of appeasing your callers, Anthony put it upon himself to sit by the garden seen right outside of your drawing room. You knew he was there, he always liked to sit by the swings. You walked towards him and he looked up.

“Why are you here?” you asked.

“I’ve noticed how sad you’ve been since your…Sir Alfred left London,” he said. “So, I thought…why must I let you suffer any longer? Let’s have tea in that place you like. I’ll pay for everything,”

“What happened to Anthony Bridgerton?” you asked and he chuckled.

“We’ve been friends way before we learned how to walk. Besides, banter gets boring, don’t you agree?” he asked, extending his arm for you to take. “You know what? I’ll even listen to you. Just for a day,”

“You will?” you asked, attaching your hand on his arm. “Wait—my maid—“

“It’s okay. Everything has been taken care of,” he said. “Let’s go,”

The Bridgerton carriage waited for you both and he let you in. The ride to the town square was quiet. If anyone understood your plight, it was Anthony. Besides, who would he tell? The gossip papers? Certainly not.

Sitting across from him in a secluded table in the tea shop with finger food and tea before you, you decided to speak.

“Alfred and I weren’t courting,” you confessed, sipping your tea. Anthony feels the constriction in his chest loosen. As if he hadn’t been breathing properly before your confession.

“Pardon?” he asked, setting down the cucumber sandwich that he was eating. “You’re not courting? Then…what about your dances? Everyone was waiting for the two of you to wed. You do know that you aren’t fooling me, right?”

You chuckled.

“He has a sweetheart back home,” you said and Anthony’s hands clenched. How could someone like Alfred fool you? “It’s not like that…before you declare war. Listen to me, alright?”

“Alright,”

“He and I thought of a ruse that we’re courting. I don’t want to be married yet, Anthony. You know more than anyone that I’m in no rush. He didn’t want to be surrounded by debutantes and mothers who asked him for a dance. He was only here to expand his business by looking for more investors,” you said coolly. You looked at Anthony’s furrowed brows. “I know I should have told you but we both agreed to keep it between us. The fewer people involved, the more effective. He and I are friends and nothing but,”

“What about the music box and your bracelet?” he asked. He wanted to take the words back if he could. It showed that he paid attention and it bothered him.

“Oh…” you stuttered, looking away. “The music box was a gift from him. A gift for agreeing with everything. The bracelet…well, it’s the same. It’s a parting gift for our friendship. We both have the same bracelet with the same gem. I was sad to see him leave but more than anything, I’m looking forward to his next return with the woman he loves. Did you know he’s going to confess his feelings? If everything goes well, he'll ask her hand for marriage.” you said and Anthony knew that it was the truth. Your eyes sparkled as you talked about Alfred’s possible marriage.

“It’s what I want for myself,” you spoke. “I want to marry under those circumstances and not because of practicality or…whatever it is. I am expected to marry someone with a rank…someone from a good family. I am an only child but I do not want to be restricted by my responsibilities,”

“I see,” was his pensive reply. “We haven’t danced yet. Did you know that?”

“I am well aware,” you acknowledged. “The last ball will be soon. Would you care for a dance, Viscount Bridgerton?”

“I would,”

Anthony went home that day humming.

Violet was alarmed…he has never seen Anthony so carefree since Edmund’s tragic death. His brothers were amused and his sisters were confused. They were all so used to a brooding Anthony.

“Anthony, is everything alright?” Violet Bridgerton asked. Anthony halts his step, sitting on his own chair.

“Of course,” he says. “It’s a wonderful day, is it not?”

“I suppose so,” his mother replies. “Would you like some tea before dinner? I can make you a cup,”

“It’s quite alright, mother. Y/N and I just had tea,” he shrugged. Daphne’s piano stopped playing and Anthony could feel eyes on him.

“You and who?” Benedict asked.

“Y/N and I,” Anthony replied. “Why are you all looking at me? Is something the matter?”

“No but usually you’d ask me to come—“ Daphne stops as her mother looks at her pointedly. Anthony was in good spirits and it is therefore favorable for everyone if his good mood persists.

“Of course, dear sister but remember, she and I are good friends. I just decided to ask her to spend the afternoon with after Sir Alfred’s departure,” Anthony replied. They didn’t know what he knew.

“Such a shame,” Eloise added. “I thought for sure they’ll be married by the end of the season,”

“What?” Anthony asked, an edge in his voice. Violet’s eyes rolled, annoyed that Eloise might have ruined Anthony’s mood. “Why must she marry him? There are other bachelors in London who suit her better,” he says. “Besides, they are friends,”

“What about the bracelet he gave her? Did you know he has the same one?” Daphne asked.

“Would you rather her marry somebody from outside London and see her rarely or marry someone close and see her often?” Anthony asked. Everyone stayed silent, it seemed as though the Viscount himself hadn't realized his feelings. “Exactly. Anyhow, thank you for your interrogation. I will be in my study to oversee some matters,”

He says, kissing his mother’s head before walking off.

“If that is what Y/N can do to Anthony, I would really want her to be married to him,” Francesca says, earning a few nods from her siblings.

The last ball of the season came and Anthony was dressed in his best clothes. He went to his barber before going to the tailor to have his clothes altered perfectly. He was in the ballroom, awaiting your arrival. Before leaving that afternoon, you both agreed to look your best.

Your mother soon comes with you behind her. You were donned in Anthony’s favorite color, butterflies and flowers embroidered in the dress. Jewels were in place, your hair falling in all the right places. Anthony thought that you looked ethereal.

He waited until you saw him, eyes brightening. He smiled, walking towards you. He forgot his brothers who stood behind him. He’d love nothing more than to have your first and last dances.

“Anthony,” you greeted. He takes your hand and kisses your gloved hands.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

“Does that mean I’m not beautiful on a regular day?” you teased. “You look just as handsome, Anthony,”

“Shall we dance?” he asked and you nodded, allowing him to escort you to the dance floor. Anthony looks into your eyes as lilting music starts. Soft murmurs in the crowd fade away. It’s the first time he’s seen you so, so close. There was a faint smile playing on your lips and he found himself smiling too. “Do you remember, when we were younger, our dance teachers would pair us together?”

“And I remember being the better dancer,” you boasted. “Is this how you teach?”

“No,” he replied, finding his hand on your hip, the feeling of the fabric soft against his skin. “I concede. You are the superior dancer,”

You beamed. Anthony thought that he��d let himself lose in your arguments to see you smile like that again.

“Maybe I should teach you…so you wouldn’t have to embarrass yourself in front of other debutantes,” you offered.

“Why should I learn how to dance with others when I’m perfectly fine with my dance partner?” Anthony asked. “It’s just…one, two, step. Remember?”

“Of course, I do,” you replied. “I remember Miss Rutherford scolding you for stepping on my toes,”

Anthony laughed. “You will never let that down, will you?”

“Of course not. Banter may get boring but I find it most pleasurable to see you agitated,” you replied. “Do I…agitate you?” you asked, swallowing thickly. Anthony could feel your breath on his face.

“You do,” he replied. “Is that good?”

“Very,”

“How was your dance?” Benedict asked. “Did you all know that he and Y/N danced last night? Laughing among themselves?”

“You did?” Francesca asked, excited.

“He left us when he saw her. I think Anthony forgot that he was supposed to be with his brothers,” Colin teased.

“I don’t see the matter,” Anthony replied, swallowing his breakfast. “You have both danced with Y/N. I did too. We are friends,”

“Of course,” Colin replied. “Only…you had your eyes glued on her last night. You shared your last dance together. Mother had to separate the two of you beside the refreshments table because you were too busy giggling among yourselves,”

“I for one would love it if Y/N became a part of our family,” Eloise remarked.

“Isn’t she already a part of it? We all grew up together. Why is everyone acting absurd?” Anthony asked but he knew. He couldn’t stop thinking about you these days. Last night, he tossed and turned in his bed because he couldn’t stop his heart fluttering from the recent events. He remembered the relief he felt when you told him about your ruse with Alfred. He remembered how much he enjoyed his banter with you over the years…most especially recently. He has always seen you as a friend. Since when has he looked at you in a different light? His mouth ran dry, gulping the cold water to calm his nerves. Was this true?

“I would like to visit Y/N,” Daphne announced and Anthony sputtered. He coughs to clear his throat. “Would you accompany me, Anthony?”

“I could not,” he lied. How would he react if he saw you unbothered? How would he react if he saw you again? “I have matters to attend to. Ask Benedict or Colin to take you instead,”

Anthony sat in his office doing nothing but nursing the tumultuous beating of his heart. Since when did I think of her like this? Why is she so beautiful? Would she still accept me despite our shared banter?

Later in the afternoon, Anthony found himself pacing in their garden. He was so tempted to go over to your garden but he knew that Daphne would be there with you. He looked at the gate that separated you to him. Oh, how he wanted nothing more than to have that demolished.

“You’re looking too pensive for my liking,” Violet Bridgerton says, looking at her first born with concern. “I hope you know that your siblings only like to tease,”

“I know but…what if they were right?” Anthony revealed. Violet’s eyebrows shot up. Sure, she noticed how different Anthony seemed to be these days but she never could have expected it to come from him so easily.

“If that’s how you feel, why not tell her?”

“She told me she has no wish to get married,” he says. He then told his mother about the ruse that you had with Alfred. How you both fooled everyone in London.

“Well, Benedict’s right all along,” Violet says. “But you’re both still so young, Anthony. You have so much time and I want you to spend this time on what makes you happy.”

“What if I fail?” he asked with a weak voice. Violet was reminded of Anthony as a child, when he used to voice his insecurities. There was something so beautiful about a child seeking his mother.

“At least you tried,” she said. “It would hurt more if you’re left all your life wondering what could have happened if you tried,”

The weeks that transpired after the social season could be described as irregular. You were thinking of better words to say but it was hard. Anthony was kinder and would purposely seek out your company on slower days. Over the course of a few weeks, Anthony had accompanied you to the theater. He spent time with you at the museum. He stayed at your house to share a meal with your family. The banter was there and it was still enjoyable but you couldn’t deny the fact that the new Anthony was way more favorable. You were now in the Bridgerton home after being invited by the siblings for a meal in the garden. The weather was amazing and Anthony had just installed beautiful lamps that illuminated the garden.

“I would like you to be my sister, Y/N,” Francesca announced after helping her choose a bow. She settled with a peach-colored bow that went beautifully with her hair. You chuckled, brushing off her comment.

“Are we not like sisters already?” you asked, tying the bow perfectly around a lock of hair.

“We are…but it would be better if you lived with us,” she said. “Or visited us more,”

“I’m sorry if you’ve been feeling neglected,” you told her honestly, your hand caressing her hair gently. “But now that the social season is over, we can see each other more.”

“You promise?” she asked.

“Of course. Daphne, Eloise, and you could all come visit me at home. We’ll have the night all to ourselves in my bedroom. I’ll prepare your favorite sweets and we can just talk the whole night. How does that sound?” you asked, your heart warming when Francesca beams at you.

“I’ll have to ask Anthony but I would love to!” she says. “I would have to go to Daphne and Eloise to tell them. Thank you for fixing my hair!”

You sat back on the couch afterwards, enjoying a moment of peace and quiet. You were thinking of all the preparations you might have to do when they do decide to visit. Your eyes darted to a sound and watched the Viscount sit down beside you. While he settled, you closed your eyes. The social season was tiring and it was hard to find rest sometimes.

“You haven’t been here for an hour. Why do I hear Fransesca talking to Daphne and Eloise about a possible visit?” he asked, closing his eyes to rest. He’s been cooped up in his study for hours to oversee the estate.

“She’s right. Maybe not soon, though,” you replied, voice soft. “I’m so tired.”

“Me too,” he says and no words were spoken. The noise outside the house was forgotten now. Your and his even breathing both lulled you to sleep and it was your mothers who found you and Anthony’s heads leaning on each other, just like you did when you were kids.

Anthony has been occupying all of the spaces inside your head recently. Sometimes, you were scared that your mind was projecting him because he’d always be there. You’d walk in the hallways and hear him laughing with you father. You’d be in town with your maid and he’s there, inviting you for gelato. You’d go home with a faint smile playing on your lips before reminding yourself that it was Anthony.

“Miss, the Viscount Bridgerton is here to see you,” your maid says. She took note of how you immediately smiled. “He’s been here…a lot,” she teased.

“We are friends, Mary. Of course, he’d be here,” you told her. “Besides, we grew up together,”

“Of course…but…”

“What?” you asked, fixing the tendrils of hair on your face. “Do I look alright?”

“Since when did you think about how you looked in front of Viscount Bridgerton?” she teased, laughing when your mouth was open agape. She had a point. “If it’s any consolation, you look amazing. I’m sure the Viscount would think you look amazing…if he doesn’t already,”

Confusing feelings that you nursed plagued you. Every now and then, you’d feel flustered when you felt his eyes on you. It was funny, really but what’s funnier was how everyone seemed to know but the two of you. Nothing escapes anyone, especially Lady Danbury who, along with the Bridgertons, visited your house for dinner.

You were all over the table, quiet as you heard murmurs from everyone. Your mother was talking to her friends while your father talked to Benedict and Colin about their travels. It seemed as though the only people who weren’t speaking were you and Anthony. You looked around the dining table, trying to listen in on all kinds of conversations when your eyes landed on the Viscount. He was already looking at you, a teasing smile on his face and you felt your cheeks warm. You looked away quickly, sipping on your lemonade, never noticing that his eyes were still glued on you.

“You both have to do something about those children of yours,” Lady Danbury commented, her eyebrow raised expectantly. “Do you think they’re fooling anyone at all? I’ve seen how they stole glances from one another. It was not subtle,”

“I know,” Violet agreed. “I’ve seen Anthony look at her. Really, all his siblings seem to know too,”

“Y/N is the same,” your mother added. “She’s always off to run with Anthony. Have you noticed?”

Meanwhile, you were all in the garden. Benedict and Eloise were huddled together in the swings while you were laying on the picnic blanket. You didn’t care if it seemed appropriate. They were the Bridgertons, they never minded. You were looking up at the stars when Anthony blocked the view. A mischievous idea pops inside your head and you extended your arm upwards.

“Anthony, will you help me up?”

Anthony takes your hand but before he helps you, you pulled him down, sending him flat on the space beside you.

“You’re dead!” he exclaims as you run away from him.

“Benedict, help me!” you called, as you increase your speed.

“Don’t you dare, brother,” Anthony threatens, running after you. His heart fills with warmth when he heard your boisterous laugh. You were so carefree and so joyful.

Your screams rang through the garden when Anthony’s arms wrap around your waist. You looked at him, laughing.

“You really shouldn’t be doing that,” he scolds, tickling your sides. “Stop squirming! That’s your punishment!” he laughed, tickling you more. Suddenly, you both stopped, noticing the close proximity between the two of you. Your faces were inches away from each other and you both looked away, coughing. Unknown to you two, his siblings were smiling in amusement.

“Eloise!” you called. “Didn’t you want me to help you with something? Let us go,”

Anthony could only watch while you scurry off with Eloise and his sisters somewhere.

“Scandalous, is it not, brother?” Colin teased which earned him a light shove from the Viscount. His siblings watched him follow you with amusement. Someone has to do something about the two of you.

“What was that?” Eloise asked you when you reached your bedroom.

“Was what?” you feigned innocence. Daphne was with the two of you, sitting on your bed with her eyebrow raised.

“Everybody saw that,” Daphne said. “You know, it’s no harm to tell us about how you feel towards Anthony. The attraction is so obvious!”

“I agree with Daphne,” Eloise added. “While I do think that marriage is a trap, I fully support you marrying into our family. You’re good to us and Daphne’s right. There’s attraction there,”

“Since when did you girls know about attraction?” you mused. “You lot are still young,”

“Seems like we’re less clueless than you are,” Francesca teased, making thr girls giggle.

“Anthony is agitating,” you relent. “He’s kind and playful,”

“What is it that you look for in a husband?” Daphne asked, playing with a dainty necklace that you gifted her before.

“Someone kind and well, I’d love it if it feels like we’ve known each other forever. Sometimes, you get that feeling, you know? Like you’ve known them for a lifetime and everything just falls into place.” you said. “Someone who understands…someone patient. I’d like to marry someone who can make me laugh. I’d like to have a big family and marry someone coming from one…oh, dear,” you muttered. You were describing Anthony Bridgerton.

“That sounds a lot like…”

“Anthony!” Daphne gasped, seeing the man on your doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“Mother is looking for you girls,” he says, looking expectantly at his sisters.

“Anthony, you always ruin the fun!” Eloise glared. “We were having girl talk, if you weren’t aware,”

“It’s alright, Eloise,” Daphne says. “Let us go and let them have a moment of privacy,”

Eloise could only scowl at Anthony while Daphne ushers her out. Anthony breathes a sigh of relief as he looks ar you for permission.

“May I?”

“Of course, Anthony.” you smiled. “Come in. Did you need anything?”

Anthont doesn’t answer. Instead, he locks the door behind him. You gape as he walked nearer, until you were face to face. You were close again and you could feel him.

“Is something the matter?” you asked softly. “Would you tell me?”

“I heard what you told my sisters,” he replied, his voice just as soft. “Is it true? That the man you’re looking for sounds exactly like me?”

“Anthony—“

“If you must know, I feel the same.” he said. “I’ve been putting these emotions away from me because you once said that you were in no rush to get married. I thought that if I waited for you long enough, then you’d want to be married to me but I cannot wait any longer. Did you know how miserable I was when I thought that you and Sir Alfred were courting? I set it off for you but I am a selfish man and I cannot wait any longer. So tell me, is it true?”

You felt your throat constrict when Anthony’s gaze drops on your lips. Should you kiss him right now to convey your emotions?

“It is,” you replied. “But I’ve been keeping my emotions at bay because I feel the same,”

Anthony beams.

“Say it,” he whispers. “Say what you feel.”

“I love you, Anthony,” you replied. Anthony takes your head and kisses you deeply. You felt every emotion there is; inching your face closer to the roughness of his calloused hand. He moves away slowly and lays you down on your bed; him crawling on top of you to attach his lips on yours again.

“I love you too,” he mumbles softly, kissing the soft skin under your ear. Anthony would’ve liked it better if he could hear the soft whimpers that came from you. He trails down to your neck, and then the hemline of your chest. “I love you…so much. Tell me you love me,”

“I love you,” you whine.

“If you let me, I’d still want to court you properly and formally. Will you let me?” he whispered.

“We’re way past courting if you’re kissing me like this,”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Never.”

(If you know who Alfred is based off of, comment to get a follow from me…u deserve it)

cc: @screechingdreamercollectorsblog @pink-lemo @lana-isabelle @evelyn3000 @simran1111 @marrilly @jemimah-b99 @goldeng1rl8 @lovely-him @wreckedsymphony @silvermistt @rexit-mo @chazubagi @freyathehuntress @flourishandblotts-inc @ @bellaiscool @rayodesol97 @munsonology @miyababbby @jesslexi1170

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fanfic #fluff #oneshot #one shot #imagine

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selfishdoll · 7 months

Text

NOW PLAYING…. LOTUS FLOWER BOMB

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ Can I be with you just one night? I could wear you out inside | I could tell you like persistence, but I make you cum in tri's

DEAL ! ft. martial artist! kashimo hajime

SUMMARY. being saddled with tutoring the stubborn martial artist was bad enough, him learning you had the hots for him was even worse. but of course, you decide to use this to your advantage. and he is more then happy to partake in your little game. ━━ ★

CW. ooc kashimo, modern au (you two are college students, same age), reader with glasses (self indulgent asf), porn w/o plot, slight degradation, praise kink, lowkey soft dom kashimo, pet names (sweet girl, princess, baby, good bye, etc), kashimo & reader teasing each other, unprotected sex, bets, creampies, frenemies(?) to lovers, reader is black (obviously), multiple orgasms, etc. ━━ ★

NOTE. i got this idea randomly & it’s been a while since i’ve written for my man so here we are. unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes. ━━ ★

Being the smart kid had as many disadvantages as it did perks. People flocked to you, not for friendship; but rather to feed off you. Using you to get good grades, notes, and then discarding you later. It hurt you at first, but now, you couldn’t care less. Now that you were an adult in college you gained a shiny spine, immediately saying no when someone approached you for help. You didn’t care if you came off as bitchy or stuck up, you refused to put your school career in jeopardy just for a bunch of strangers.

Which left you with a small group of friends, but hey— big groups didn’t work out anyway.

You carried this thought process all the way to junior year, your teachers used to it by now. No amount of begging from them or a student’s behalf changed your mind. Until, your beloved biology teacher reached out to you.

See, you took the class around your sophomore year of college, and the two of you clicked instantly. Something about being one of the few other black woman among the faculty and student body really drew you close together. If she asked for something, you were more than happy to oblige. Which, she knew all too well.

So when she called you into her classroom one day you weren’t surprised— until you noticed the tall, cyan colored hair man standing infront of her desk. The moment you stepped in she was all smiles, buttering you up before delivering the punch line:

“Could you tutor Kashimo Hajime please?” Her tone was soft, wavering on desperate. She watched as the annoyance covered your features, her scrambling a bit. “One more bad grade and he loses his scholarship. You know I wouldn’t normally ask this of you, but he’s a good student— I swear.”

“If he was so good, he wouldn’t be failing.” You murmured under your breath, eyes darting to the side to spot the man already staring at you. A grin in place. You wouldn’t find anything funny about this situation if you were him, but again— you weren’t and never would be. “Come on, Ms. Wells; you know I can’t stand tutoring people. Besides, I took this class last year.”

“And you were my best student.” She mused, buttering you up once more. A soft sigh escaped the older woman, leaning against her desk. “Look. Do this for me and I’ll write you the best damn recommendation letter you’ve ever seen. Okay?”

You thought it over, wondering if you really wanted to subject yourself to a whole week and a half of tutoring for someone who probably couldn’t care less. But, you really wanted that letter and you had to admit you had a soft spot for your previous teacher. So with a reluctant sigh you nodded, turning to face Kashimo who did the same.

“But if you still fail, it will not be my fault.”

“Of course.” He spoke cooly, smiling down at you.

You wondered if Ms. Wells was lying. If she was held at gunpoint to say he was a good student. He was far from it. Not only was he stubborn, Kashimo got disinterested in the material quickly; moving on to scrolling on his phone or attempting to watch something on your television. Even hitting on you, which you shut down— with minor hesitation. You couldn’t blame yourself, as annoying as he was; he was easy on the eyes and ears.

Today was Wednesday, meaning Kashimo only had four days until the test. And by the looks of it, he wouldn’t be passing it. The man wasn’t stupid, he just didn’t want to sit still and do the work. He was far too rambunctious.

You snatched the phone out of his hand for about the third time that day, placing it on the desk behind you. “You’re wasting mine and your time, Kashimo. Could you please focus on the studying?” You grumbled, adjusting your black rimmed glasses on your face. Kashimo leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “If that’s the case just kick me out, you have no obligation to tutor me.”

“Ms. Wells asked me to.” You spoke, breathing softly and slowly blinking. You then turned to the sheet on your desk, scribbling something on the page. “Plus it’s called human decency and empathy, I want to help you.”

“That or you want to fuck me.”

You released a choked scoff, eyes wide as your eyebrows rose. You whipped around to face him, Kashimo sporting a cocky grin. “Really? You really think so?”

“I know so.” Kashimo shrugged as if it was obvious, leaning forward and resting his elbows onto his thighs; heavy, hot gaze trailing up and down your body. Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, pressing his chin into a palm. “Because.. I’m able to tell when someone wants to fight or fuck me.”

“Oh, those are the only two options?”

“The only ones that matter.” He responded quickly, grinning at the way your pressed your lips together. You didn’t expect to be found out, seeing as you tried to be discreet with the glances you took at his strong arms and his crotch whenever he wore those damned grey sweatpants. You breathed softly, eyes darting elsewhere as you grabbed the middle of your glasses, rubbing the space between your eyes. “Mkay.. maybe you’re right; maybe I allowed my eyes to linger for far too long—“ Your breath hitched as you felt his hand fall to the bottom of your chair, pulling you closer while the other gently grabbed your calf. Before it could travel up you rose your leg, pressing it against his stomach.

“— But, the two aren’t mutually exclusive; I still want you to pass.” You spoke slowly, ignoring the way his fingers slowly caressed your leg. Kashimo chuckled softly to himself, leaning back in his chair and allowing your foot to slide down his body into his lap. “Okay.. how about we make a deal?”

“I’m listening..”

“You tutor me as hard as you like and if I pass— well..” The man dragged on, using a hand to cover the little smirk pulling his lips. You got the gist however, sucking in a small breath as you slowly nodded. You scooted a bit closer, “But that means, you have to get an A.”

Kashimo blinked at your words, eyes snapping back to your face with a bewildered expression. It was your turn to grin, reaching over his shoulder to curl a piece of his hair between your fingers. “I can tutor you as hard as I like, remember? Get an A, and you’ll get a reward. Deal?” You tilted your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

Kashimo licked his lips a bit, mimicking your smile. “Deal.”

“Good boy. Now get the hell out of my dorm so I can get some sleep.

Much to surprise, Kashimo’s entire attitude seemed to change over night. He was listening to each piece of material you threw at him, getting a few questions wrong but paying attention otherwise. It made you a little warm inside, and happy he was actually listening. Even if it was just to get in your pants which you— truly didn’t mind. The feeling was mutual after all.

Sunday night the night before the test, you offered him a break which Kashimo refused, stating he’ll be fine to take it in the morning. You got a little worried especially from how early her class was so you offered him to sleep in your dorm. Much to his, and your own surprise.

“Oh, don’t break your part of the deal now..”

“Don’t be gross, like I said— human decency.”

That night was a little awkward, having another person in your room on the floor— especially someone you were pinning for. You desperately tried to sleep the thought away, turning over to lay on your stomach and cuddling your pillow. Which helped, seeing as you drifted moments later, waking up when you heard movement in your room.

“Leaving?”

“Yeah. Class starts in about twenty minutes.” Kashimo called to you in the darkness. You soon felt him near your bed, giving you the opportunity to gently caress his arm. “Good luck on the test.”

“Mhm.” You shivered as his warm hand suddenly brushed your bare shoulder, leaning close to your face. “Get some rest.. you’ll need it.” Your eyes went wide at his words, slowly sitting up to watch him exit your dorm.

Well, now you couldn’t go back to sleep.

You got up shortly after the man left, taking a shower and throwing on some jeans and a shirt while heading to your own classes. Kashimo was pushed to the back of your mind, giving it may take Ms. Wells a day or so to get through grading all the papers. And while you hate to admit it, as much as you wanted to be wrong— he probably still failed. A harsh thought, but it was probably true.

Your classes ended as normal, already back in your dorm by about four in the afternoon. You stripped yourself of your outside clothes, pulling on some random juicy couture shorts and a tank top. You laid across your bed, switching to a random show; flipping between watching and glancing at your phone. You had sent the man a text message around the time his class should have ended and to your dismay, he didn’t answer. Even if he couldn’t get the grade tonight, you wanted to at least gauge how he felt about it.

Pursing your lips, you turned off your phone and pushed it to the corner of your bed, laying your cheek against your pillow. Your eyes remained glued to the television for about several hours, eyes blinking as you wondered whether to turn in for the night or not. That thought left the minute you heard knocking on your door however.

You flipped your phone, glaring at the time which read 9:30 p.m. You grumbled softly in annoyance, rising from your bed and sliding off it. Waltzing over to the door, you opened it to reveal Kashimo Hajime standing in all his glory. A large grin on his face. Your heart dropped to your stomach, watching him raise his hand to showcase the piece of paper he was holding. You silently took it, flipping it around to glance it over and spotting the big fat 100% glaring back at you.

“Oh.”

“Oh..” Kashimo mocked you softly, pushing into the room. He watched with interest as you backed away, eyes remaining on you as he closed and locked the door behind him. He reached over, grabbing your wrist with one hand and your cheeks with the other. “Looks like I get my reward.” The words came out whispered, leaning down and planting his lips on your own. Your eyes shut instantly, his test dropping to the floor as your hands rose to his hair. Your fingers curled in the cyan-colored tresses, moaning softly as his gently bit your bottom lip to shove his tongue into your mouth. The two appendages played and curled with each other, whilst his hands fell to your ass, gripping the warm flesh for a moment before lifting you easily— pushing forward to place you onto the bed.

Kashimo pulled back, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. “Bet you were thinking of this all day.. waiting for me to come and fuck you.” He spoke on bated breath, hand sliding up your body to gently grab your throat. The man chuckled softly as you shook your head, using his other hand to pull your glasses off your face delicately, turning to place it off to the side. “You’re a shitty liar, [Name].” Hajime pushed you further up on the bed, hovering over your body as he attached his lips back to your own. A hand was pressed beside your head while the other flicked down the top of your loose tank top, exposing your breasts to him.

He trailed his kisses down from your face to your throat and finally breasts, using a hand to squeeze one while his mouth wrapped around the other nipple. You gasped softly as the pleasure swirled within you, head leaning back against the back as your hips rose. Kashimo grinned against your chest, pushing a knee up between your thighs, chuckling at the way you instantly began to grind against it. His teeth gently raked your sensitive skin, sucking and licking the bud raw to hear you shudder and moan. Kashimo pressed his leg up harsher, slowly rolling his knee, feeling your wetness seep through your thin shorts and slowly dampen his pants. The man pulled back, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

“Oh, you’re already so wet and I’ve barely touched you. Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Hajime.. stop teasin’ me.”

The martial artist hummed to himself, gently pinching the raw bud to watch you gasp. “I’ll do what I want. Better yet, I could leave you here yearning for my touch— possibly get my reward at a later date.” The moment he pulled his leg away you were whining, reaching to grab at his shirt. Hajime grinned down at you, leaning close and allowing his leg to press against your center once again. “Then lay here and take what I give you like a good girl.”

Sucking kisses into your dark mocha skin, your hips as you ground against his muscular leg, feeling him flex the appendage every once in a while. It felt far too good to simply just be dry humping, your head leaning back as your clutched his shirt in your hands. You gasped out as he bit your neck, sucking harshly— the action enough to push you over the edge. A whine escaped you as you came, ruining your panties and shorts completely.

Hajime pulled back with a grin, resting on his hutches and pushing your thighs. “Still can’t believe you got off just from my thigh…” The man teased softly, hooking his fingers on your shorts and panties, dragging them down your body. Before he could do anything else you were pushing your legs together, causing his heated gaze to snap to your face.

“Take your shirt off.” You spoke, watching the man tilt his head with a little grin. He leaned over you once again, caressing your exposed stomach slowly.

“You want it off, take it off yourself.”

You gently bit your lip but obeyed, reaching over and slowly pulling his shirt up and off his body; warmth flooding you as you glanced over his form. He certainly had the build of a martial artist, sculpted but not disgustingly so— just right. Your hand smoothed down his toned stomach, feeling it contract when you got closer to the waistband of his pants. Your breath hitched a little when he grasped your wrist, eyes snapping back to his face.

“Focus up here, sweetheart.” Hajime spoke, releasing your hand to slowly descend down your body. Your eyes widened, watching as pushed your legs wider, revealing the prize between them. You shifted under his gaze, gripping your shirt and yelping the moment he pinched the inside of your thigh. “Quit movin’.” The man spoke, leaning down. He used to fingers to slide your slick folds, pressing a kiss against your swollen clit. The foreign feeling caused you to twitch, hand falling to the bed and gasping the moment you felt his tongue glide across you.

“Hajime..”

“Relax, princess. Just relax for me..” He murmured against you, gently taking your clit into your mouth. He began to suck, throwing a hand across your hips to keep them against the bed. Your legs widened, mouth hung open as soft moans escaped you. You gripped your sheets the moment you felt two fingers slowly push inside you, scissoring and thrusting into your soft entrance.

Your moans grew louder, hands falling to his hair and gripping; looking for leverage. The pleasure took over your senses, eyes pinched close as you struggled against his heavy arm, pushing your pussy into his face more. His tongue was wicked, circling your swollen bud, dragging up and down your slit, lathering you in saliva. Kashimo’s fingers weren’t any better, trusting into you, pushing against your spongy walls and reaching deeper then your own fingers could.

Soft smacks and groans escaped from between your legs, moans now pitching as your toes curled from the pleasure. You panted, walls clenching around his fingers as your peak grew closer and closer. The man seemed to notice, withdrawing his fingers from you and pulling away from your clit. You nearly whined if it wasn’t for his warm, thick appendage driving into you; hand moving to allow his thumb to circle your bud.

“Ha—haji.. Mmm—!” Little tears treated to spill from your eyes, palms hurting from your tightly you were gripping his hair. The martial artist tongue fucked you relentlessly, the pace of his thumb quickening. Moments passed before your back rose up off the bed, making a mess all over his face and under you, arousal trailing down to your taint.

Your body shook, panting heavily as you felt him remove himself from between your legs. Through your hazy vision you watched him lean over your body, warming as his hands cradled your throat and skull; leaning down to plant your lips together. You held onto his arm, eyes closed as your returned the kiss, delving on your taste from his mouth.

“So good, princess.. so good for me.” Kashimo breathed against your lips, planting a few more kisses against your bruised lips, pulling back to glance at you. He grinned to himself, enamored by the display before him. Your edges a mess, braids sprawled out around your head while your chest rose and fall heavily, lips slick with his salvia and your mess; pouted and used. Hajime’s thumb caressed your throat, curling his fingers between the parts of your hair. “You want more, sweet girl?”

The moment you nodded the man’s grin was falling, gently clenching his fingers around your neck. “Words. Use your words.”

Your body went hot, eyes trailing away from his features. “Haji..” Your cunt clenched the minute his hold on your neck tightened just a bit, urging your eyes back to his face. “I asked for words, not my name.” The man leaned down, forehead pressed against your own. “Unless you want me to leave you here, a needy— desperate mess.”

The thought alone had you whining, shaking your head once again to which the man urged you once again. Biting the inside of your cheek, your hands dragged up his back to his shoulders, blinking up at him. “Please Haji.. I need you.” As much as you wanted to kick yourself for such a pathetic display, the thought melted the moment he came close, pressing a kiss to your lips and whispering good girl.

Kashimo released your throat to push his sweats and boxers down, revealing his length to you. It was heavy, a lighter shade then him with a bulbous red tip. You bit the inside of your cheek the moment you realized it ended just below your navel, shivering at the thought it splitting you open.

He grabbed the underside of your thighs, pushing them up and open as he crowded in close, lining his dick up with your entrance. Pushing in slowly, the man cooed as you whined— releasing a leg to gently caress your side. “Mm.. relax baby.. that’s it— let me take care of you.” Hajime watched the way your walls clenched him as he sunk in deeper, having half a mind to fuck you into the mattress right then and there. But for once, he decided to be patient.

Soon enough Kashimo was all the way in, shuddering as your clenched— adjusting to his size. The stretch burned of course, eyes pinched closed as you remained still. The pain melted away however, breathing as you moved your hips, eyes opening as the pleasure ran down your spine. The soft moan that escaped you was enough, watching as the man dragged his hips back before pushing back inside— the two of you gasping.

His hands found purchase on your hips, immediately setting a rough and fast pace inside you; drilling you into the bed. Under his mercy you moaned, pretty acrylics digging into his back as your legs shook around his form. With his weight placed behind each thrust you could barely breathe let alone think, pleasure consuming you whole. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your skull, lost completely— ruined.

Kashimo enjoyed each expression each sound, dedicating to memory. He couldn’t care less if someone else in the dorm heard— even swearing he heard knocks against the wall above them. He wanted them to head; wanted them hear his name fall from your lips so sweetly. The man leaned down, softly mocking your moans with the sickest grin. “Feels good baby? Yeah— wanted this the moment you met me, didn’t you?” The man questioned, grunting the moment he felt your walls clench from his words.

“Haji, Haji— Fuck!” Your words dragged, speech muddled as he continued to fuck you as if he would die without it. He was pushing you wide, cock digging deep inside and brushing against spots you didn’t even know existed— angling his hips just right to hear you squeal from the pleasure.

“I know baby, I know— feels good for Haji too.. fuck..” His eyelids were heavy, thumbs digging into your plump flesh as he fucked you with all his might. The bed rocked from the force, headboard slamming against the wall for a moment before Kashimo reached over; gripping it tightly while continuing to drill into you. The moment you noticed it, you were pushed over the edge; creaming all over his length while a loud cry of his name escaped you. The man grinned down at you, pulling your leg over your shoulder, somehow moving deeper inside you.

“One more princess, fuck—“

You shook your head, clenching him so tightly as the oversensitivity flooded your body. You felt him release your hip to gently grab your throat, coming close once again. “Come on, I know you got it in you, pretty girl— be good for me.” No matter how much your body ached with exhaustion, how your messy cunt clenched and pulsed tiredly around him— you ignored it all, wrapping your hand around his wrist and rising up to kiss him.

Kashimo grinned against you, bruising pace continuing inside you, head brushing against your cervix with each thrust. The pleasure quickly overshadowed the pain, his hand falling from your throat to rub tight, fast circles against your wet, swollen bud. Your stomach clenched, fucked completely dumb to the point his name came out in incoherent babbles and cries.

Moments of this continued before his breathing got heavier, eyebrows pinched close as his thrusts got a little uncoordinated. He gripped the headboard harshly, harsh swears escaping him as he rocked into you. “Fuckkk.. you want me inside baby? Want me to pump you full?”

“Yes, yes! Wa—want it inside, Haji—“

Hajime smiled down at you, leaning close to kiss you once again muttering a soft of course, against your swollen lips. He drove himself deep, hips stilling as he painted your walls white. That was enough for you, walls milking him dry as you came; moaning into his mouth.

His thrusts slowed to slow gyrates, hand raising to your skull against to slowly massage your scalp. The man soon pulled away, your combined pants fanning against the other’s face. Kashimo’s hand fell to your cheek, caressing it gently and smiling at the way you tiredly leaned into it.

“Best tutor ever.” Kashimo teased, chuckling softly at the way you playfully glared at him.

#mani writes ━━ ★#mechahrt #mdni #jjk x black reader #black!reader #hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo x black!reader #hajime kashimo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x fem!reader #jjk hajime kashimo #modern au #jjk #jjk x black!reader #jjk x chubby reader #jjk x curvy reader #jjk x poc!reader

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sweaterweatherever · 1 year

Text

Truce (Xavier Thorpe x reader)

In which the most famous rivals from Nevermore call a truce for a game night and figure out they don't hate each other nearly as much as they thought.

Pairing: AFAB Reader x Xavier Thorpe.

Warnings: Smut. +18 only. Enemies to lovers, underage drinking, cursing, drunk making out, oral sex (Female receiving) protected vaginal sex. (You know it, wrap it before you tap it)

A/N: Aged up characters, maybe their last year but 18 or older (Actor is 21) First attempt at smut and first post ever. Not a native english speaker, so be gentle. My request are always open!!!

You couldn't remember how it started, but as long as you remembered, Xavier Thorpe and you were rivals. You were in each other's throats all the time, in and out of the art room. While you weren't a psychic capable of art animation, you had known since you were five years old that you would make art for a living. Unfortunately, you could recognize talent when you saw it, and Thorpe had it in spades. But did it really mean something when he probably had the best teachers money could buy?

Yes, you envied him. You did and weren't ashamed to admit it. He had the safety net and resources you so wanted to pursue your passion. He had cool, helpful powers and money to support him. You… well. It's not like you were poor, but your parents had to work hard for a living. You came from a middle class family, who was betting everything on you graduating from Nevermore with good grades and getting into a college with a sensible major.

So, no. You didn't like Thorpe. You were only tolerating him for the sake of Wednesday. She was the one you liked. It wasn't mutual, by any chance, but her attending Nevermore helped you. She took Thorpe out of your hair often enough. Like last semester, while he was busy panting after her like a lovesick puppy, you got loads of time alone in the shed Weems forced you to share.

Besides, Yoko had begged you to come, she didn't want to be the third wheel between the couples. And you liked Enid too. Yeah, you were only showing up for this game night for the girls.

Thorpe always found something to pick on you about, so you took special care in your appearance, but not enough to look like you made an effort, because if he noticed, he surely would laugh about it too. Yoko didn't comment on your sudden need to put lip gloss and mascara on, except from a snide remark about hugging the mirror.

You entered Wednesday and Enid's dorm carrying a bag full of cheap alcohol. You weren't a drinker, but as the shape-shifter on the group, you were the one who bought it looking like an elderly lady. Elderly enough to not get asked for ID. Ajax cheered at seeing you, startling Enid, who was reclined against his chest. Wednesday only looked at you, unblinking. And Thorpe…

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in…the half assed Mystique.” He was sitting on Wednesday's desk, looking like an overgrown parrot and surely making a nuance out of himself. You tried not to stare at the way his impossibly long legs extended, and his hair was pulled back from his face, showing a pale, long neck.

“Does that make you Charles Xavier?” You quipped, looking at Thorpe with eyes full of venom. “Because if so, darling, you surely need cerebro.”

“Charming.” He smiled at you, eyes squinting in a way that was obviously fake. “As always.”

“I know. I can't help it. Being nice to you is an act of charity.” You passed the bag to Yoko, and sat down in the middle of the floor, eyeing the game Enid, Ajax, and Wednesday seemed to be playing. It was something with… Envelopes?

“Could you two cease your meaningless squabbling?” Wednesday asked, and you finally realized they were playing Clue. “We are trying to solve a murder here.”

“Yeah, just cut it with the foreplay and fuck already.” Ajax took a beer out of the bag and opened the can. Which one, disgusting, two, rude. You were more offended at the fact he opened your fucking bag without permission than the joke, used to it already. Everyone loved enemies to lovers, after all. And Nevermore teens weren't so different as they liked to think.

“No, thanks. I'm done with charity for today.” You said instead of voicing all that out loud.

“Are you so full of yourself, princess?” Thorpe asked, and you felt the impulse to throttle him. You hated that nickname, maybe because you liked it a bit much, and that made it a can of worms you didn't want to open. You took a deep breath, ignoring his satisfied smirk at being able to rattle you.

“No. But we both know I'm so out of your league, lover boy, it's not even looking like a league, but instead two different galaxies.”

“Ohh, kitty got claws…” Yoko snickered, taking a sip of her pre prepped Bloody Mary. Wednesday looked vaguely amused at the situation, while Ajax was just nursing his beer happily. Enid was looking anxious, probably anticipating when one of you would cross the line and go from petty snarking at each other into a full-blown fight.

“Sure you are, pretty girl. Sure you are. Especially when we talk about talent, because I make your drawings look like…” So he was the one crossing the line tonight. A dig at your artwork? That was a new low, even for him. Good to know. But before you opened your mouth to say something that would probably make him snap, Enid interrupted.

“That's enough!” Enid said, with a tense smile. “How about we play another game?”

“Sure.” You said, tersely. Thorpe made a face, probably mocking you. You ignored him.

“What you have in mind, babe?” Ajax asked.

“Surely something so stereotypical and inane like Never have I ever or Truth or Dare.” Wednesday drawled, picking up the bag of alcohol and tossing back a shot of cheap whiskey like it was nothing. “I'm not drunk enough to partake yet.” She explained.

“Ohh, Never have I ever sounds fun with this crowd.” Enid said, taking a beer out of the bag and passing it to you. “Xavier, get closer.” Enid ordered.

“So, the options are terrible, and I'm not touching Wednesday's whiskey because that shit will lift paint.“ Thorpe said, squatting next to you and taking a peek at the bag. You already knew it´s contents, being the one who had bought it. Thing was, your budget was limited, so you had warm beer, the cheapest whiskey in the store and flavored vodka. You went for the vodka, but Thorpe's hand grabbed your arm and stopped you. “What do you say, truce, and we share?”

“You got yourself a deal, Thorpe.” The idea of having to share the bottle with him was more appealing than having to drink warm beer, and you could be generous once in a blue moon.

“Please, call me Xavier.” He grinned, all boyish charm, and suddenly you could see the appeal.

“Y/N then.” You said, passing him the bottle. Xavier opened it and offered it to you. You just held onto it, suddenly realizing that without glasses, you and Xavier would have to drink straight from it. You put it down.

“Alright, everyone who did it drinks.” Enid remembered. “I'll go first, never have I ever stolen anything.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, but took a shot out of her whiskey. You went to grab at the bottle, but Xavier was faster, taking a swing of it before you.

“Fuck, we were wrong. This is so bad, even Wednesday thing is better.” He said to you, grimacing.

“Give me that, crybaby.” You said, taking your own shot of the bottle and almost spluttering. The vodka tasted like a straight out rubbing alcohol, burning at your throat and almost feeling it in your nose. Your eyes felt runny. “I take it back.” You gasped.

“Okay, so Wednesday has a story of it but,“ Yoko said and Wednesday looked proud. ”What did Xavier and Y/N stole? He surely seems the type, but I didn't think Y/N…”

“Nope. Not talking about it.” Xavier smirked. “What about you, princess?”

“Oh, it's a boring story. When I was a child, my mom loved to go to home decor stores, and there was this one in particular that had ceramic display, for the bathroom and stuff. Every time we went, I took the smallest and most colorful tile, until my mom caught me.” You said, and Wednesday looked disappointed. What could you said, you weren't exactly a criminal mastermind. Ajax and Yoko took one look at you and started laughing uncontrollably.

“That's…” Enid started saying, no doubt trying to be kind.

“Kind of cute, actually. So you always loved colors?” Xavier asked, and you couldn't figure out if he was making fun of you or not, so you answered pretty neutral.

"I always loved art, if that's what you are asking me.” He gave you a look you couldn't descifrate.

“Okay, my turn. Never have I ever… Let's make this fun, guys… Thought Xavi was the Hyde." Ajax said, with a smirk. You sighed, relieved you didn't have to drink anymore of that thing.

Wednesday, Enid, and Yoko all took sips from their drinks.

"Really?" Ajax asked, looking at you.

"He was always alone with me in the woods. He clearly hates me, but never did anything and trust me, he had the chance. Besides, Thorpe here is a softie." You explained, rubbing a ink stain on your finger. Your tongue felt looser than usual. The vodka must have been strong, so you decided to pace yourself from here on.

"I don't hate you." Xavier muttered, when the rest had lost interest.

"Sure you don't."

"Right. Never have I ever worn pink." Wednesday deadpanned. You took a shot, and so did everyone else in the group.

By the time it was your turn, you were, well, not drunk but close enough. You had been careful, only taking little sips because you were drinking vodka straight from the bottle. You had been slowly leaning onto Thorpe's space, and he didn't seem to care. He was, just like you, an affectionate drunk.

"Never have I ever… Had a crush on Wednesday." Both Xavier and Enid drank. You suppressed a smile.

“That. That.” Yoko said, taking a gulp of her Bloody Mary. “I didn't see coming.”

“You can both lose all your hopes now. “ Wednesday said, with a murderous glint in her eyes. “I don't have any desire to become a clone of my parents.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk, princess? Because that felt targeted.” Xavier put an arm around your shoulders, putting the bottle of vodka on the floor.

“Keep telling yourself that.” You snorted. “So the crush is over?”

“Real subtle.” Ajax muttered, sharing a glance with Enid.

“That your way of asking about my relationship status?”

“Nope. Just curious.”

“Oh, princess, you are so dumb it's funny.” Xavier smirked, his hand playing with a stray lock of your hair.

“Asshole.” You didn't attempt to remove his hands from your person, because, well, you were drunk, and he was warm and comfortable. Only that.

Wednesday suddenly stood up, walking towards her cello.

“I find myself in need to ponder something. You can leave if you want.”

“Wednesday!” Enid chided. “Don't be rude.” But the back haired girl was already playing the first accords of “La Llorona” which you didn't think was going to work in a cello, but it did.

“Ohhh, talent show.” Yoko clapped. “Surely Y/N and Xavier could show off too…?”

“Only one of us here can animate things, and it's certainly not me.” You said, finally getting up. The room did not move, which you thought was a good sign. You felt a little wobbly, but you could manage.

“Come on, Y/N.” Enid insisted. “Don't you want to finally settle your rivalry?”

“Not when he has an unfair advantage and an already inflated ego.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don't be mean, princess. We can even use your preferred medium, only pencil and paper. No powers, I swear.”

“Fine.” You stole two pencils and a notebook from Wednesday's desk. “What will we draw?” You asked, offering one to him. You were seriously hoping he didn't ask for something with straight lines, because you weren't sure you were sober enough for it.

“Do me! Do me!” Enid begged. You looked at Xavier, his eyes shining with a competitive glint.

“Fine by me.” He said, turning, so he was sitting in front of you.

“Thirty minutes?” You asked.

“Fifteen.” He said, and you barely hummed, getting started with the warms up immediately.

“Hey, that's cheating.” Xavier complained, batting at your paper and pouting. He looked like a petulant child, which made you suspect he was drunker than he looked.

“Only warm-ups.” You said, showing the paper to him. He nodded.

“Start in one, two, go!” Ajax said, setting a timer on his phone. Almost immediately, you took another piece of paper, barely glancing at Enid's smiling face. You knew her, she had a sweet face, which made it easier. Not a lot of contrasts there or any hard lines. Your hand practically flew over the paper, frantically sketching and adding depth.

You snuck a quick glance at Xavier, who was intently staring at Enid. You looked at her face too, making sure the proportions were right. Then, noticing you only had five minutes left, you put the pencil down and started making the shadows with your fingers, the quick and dirty way to add depth to your painting. You pulled a hair out of your face, barely pausing your frenetic shading and unable to shake the smile out of your face. You were having fun, you realized. This, this was what you liked about competing with Xavier. It got your blood pumping, and it made your passion and your art even better.

“Time, guys!” Yoko called, and opened another Bloody Mary. You turned towards Xavier, seeing your manic grin perfectly reflected on his face. He showed his drawing to you, so you did the same. His Enid was facing forward, hands held excitedly behind her back, smiling. Your Enid had a fiercer look to her, probably from the different perceptions you both had of her. You had chosen to focus only on her face, going full detail with it. You needed to work on her depth, to make it less two-dimensional. While Xavier's Enid was better in that aspect, almost looking like she was going to jump out of the pages, her hair was wrong. He had been unable to shade it right, and it ended up looking like she was a brunette instead of a blonde with colorful streaks.

“Oh my god, I love it!” Enid screamed. ”Thank you, guys!”

But Xavier seemed distracted, staring intently at your face.

"What?" You asked, defensively.

"Uh, you got something on your face." He pointed vaguely in the direction of your face.

" Where?" You asked, rubbing at your cheek.

"You are making it worse" Then, going forward on his knees, he cuped your face gently. His hand is big, almost swallowing your face. He has never been so bold. "Just let me…" His thumb rubs right under your eye, but Xavier frowns. It must be graphite. You know from personal experience, it is hard to take off. You stare into his eyes, feeling strangely comforted by the way his gaze softened. He's got you feeling warm all over, and it's weird, considering this is your rival. You lower your eyes, but Xavier just grasps your chin more firmly, wetting his thumb. You don't say anything, you don't even move, yet you feel your cheeks heating up. Xavier swipes his thumb against your face again. Suddenly, someone cleared their throat. Xavier's hands drop, and you pull back so fast you end up nearly on Ajax's lap.

“So, who won?” Xavier asked, casually.

“Don´t know man, it´s pretty even.”

“Yeah.” Yoko said. “Maybe we should ask Wednesday.”

“If someone can be impartial, it´s her.” You agreed.

“Care to make it interesting, princess?”

“Sure.”

“If I win, we go to the shed and you let me teach you how to paint with oil. If you win, we do whatever you want.”

“If I win, you convince the principal to give both of us the commission for the mural in Jericho.” Thing was, the major had said it could only be one of you. But if Xavier convinced the principal, maybe…

“That´s fair.”

"Wednesday, which one is better?"

"While this one got the hair color wrong, it looks more real."

"Ha!" Xavier grins. "Get up, princess. You got a new skill to learn."

"Now?" You ask.

"Do you have anything better to do?" And the answer is no, not really. It's a Friday night and the semester has barely started. You don't have any homework or tests coming up. Xavier gets up and offers you a hand. You take it, letting him pull you to your feet. He doesn't let go of your hand, walking you towards the door. "Nice party" Xavier says to Enid, who looks startled. Ajax just laughs.

"You aren't going to kill each other, right?" Yoko asked, giving a pointed glance to the way Xavier was grabbing your hand in his. You could tell she was concerned. Xavier was taller than you by at least ten inches and while he wasn't very muscled, he could easily overpower you. Besides, you were drunk. No, you mentally corrected yourself giving Xavier a look, at the way he almost trembled with nervous energy, you both were.

"We aren't." You squeezed Xavier's hand, and that was it.

The walk towards the shed was silent. You didn't know what to think. This was a face of Xavier you had never seen directed at you and it was making something flutter on your stomach. You knew he was talented and handsome, but most of the time, that took a secondary place because he was making fun of you or screaming at you. Xavier had always had a sweet side, just not with you.

"Right." Xavier opened the door and started setting everything up. " I kind of owe you an apology."

"You do?" You extended a sheet on the floor, having watched enough times Xavier paint to know it would get messy.

"I said once you were a one hit wonder." The smooth flex and roll of his hips when he settles a heavy canvas on an easel makes you stare. You try to focus on how that has you off your game and not in the fight he's referring to. That one had stung. You didn't know why he was bringing it up now, but you definitely wanted to forget it. “Recently, someone made me realize I was taking for granted the privilege of being born in an well off family.”

“Was that Wednesday?” You asked, accepting the brush he was offering.

“She might have said something about a silver spoon.” You laughed. Obviously, the only person capable of making him see sense was fucking Wednesday Addams.

“So, then it didn´t occur to me you might draw all the time with pencil and charcoal because your parents…”

“Yeah, can we not?” You said sharply. You absolutely didn't want to discuss how your parents didn't like your passion and would never support it. Your tongue was way too loose with the alcohol and you were afraid of revealing more than you were comfortable with.

“I´m not saying we need a heart to heart.” He mixed something up in a palette, with an efficiency that could only come from practice. You admired the way it was so second nature to him, he could do it drunk. “But I´m sorry. And I would like if we could stop fighting all the time. I was an asshole.”

“You weren´t the only one. But if you can forgive me, I will forgive you too.”

“Great then. You are welcome to use any of the materials I might have lying around, just don´t touch any work on progress and if you…”

“Excuse me?!” Was he seriously offering what you thought he was offering? Like you were some poor charity case?

“I said that you can share the materials with me.” He patiently stated, giving you the palettes. “Anytime.”

“I'm not some charity case or a damsel in distress to feed your ego complex.” You gave back the brush, forcing him to take it. “I don't want this. I don't need your money.”

“It's not that!” Xavier sighted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don't know how I keep fucking things up with you so spectacularly. What I'm trying to say it's that you are a great artist, and you have no chance of competing with me if we are not in even conditions. I have materials to practice, you don't.”

“Why the hell would I even want to compete with you? I thought we weren't going to fight anymore.”

“Oh, you are not this dense, princess. I know you have something more than just air inside that pretty head of yours.”

“I have no clue what you are talking about.” You said, making a face.

“You can't tell me you didn't felt it before.” Xavier said, walking towards you. “The rush, the adrenaline high it gives us, the way you feel more alive. When we are making art, side by side, it's like the world melts away…”

“And nothing else matters. It's like your passion for art gets multiplied tenfold.” You completed, smiling sadly. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“Don't you see it, then? We push each other, we make the other a better artist. I want more of that in my life. My best pieces had come from competing with you. I am giving you the same advantages I have.”

“Not the same. “ You said, cleverly. “I don´t have a clue of how to use all of this.”

“Good thing you got yourself a teacher.” Xavier smirked. “If you agree to it.”

“Go ahead, then. What´s the first thing to know about oil painting?” You said, lifting up the brush.

“First thing to know, this is not charcoal or a pencil.” You threw him a look over your shoulder, like he was stating the obvious. “Can I touch you?” He asked.

“Sure.” Xavier stepped behind you, lightly grabbing your wrist and kicking at your feet to widen your stance. Then, he corrected your grip on the brush, pushing your fingers near the end of it.

“You need to make your movements fluid or else the brush strokes will look odd. You can just stop a trace, you need to make them flow.” With that piece of advice, he guided your hand into drawing a line, curving it slightly when he got to the end. “But if you want texture, then you should just go for it.”

“Really?” You asked, turning slightly your head to look at him and accidentally reclining your head on his chest. Suddenly, his face was close to yours. Way to close. You could count the specks of blue and grey on his eyes, see clearly the darker rim around his iris. Maybe it was the pose, or the vodka, but something about the way Xavier was looking at you was making your breath catch in your throat. This was a bad idea. Oh god, it was the mother of all bad ideas. Xavier´s eyes dropped to your lips, still frozen in a small, teasing smile. Then, back, to your eyes. He was asking permission, surely knowing this was a bad idea. But instead of saying something, you let the brush clatter to the floor, forgotten, and fully turned. Then, looking at him directly in the eyes and lifting yourself on your tiptoes, you went in for the kiss.

Xavier´s hands went immediately to your face, gently cradling it upwards. He smelt like turpentine and paint, and something so him it made you smile into the kiss. His mouth was soft against you, and tasted like the cheap vodka you were both drinking. You wondered if he thought the same about you. Xavier kept the kiss gentle, giving you ample of opportunity to pull away, but you didn´t want to. You pulled him closer, making him stumble and you both nearly fell over the canvas. Without breaking the kiss, one of his hands went immediately to steady you. You laughed a little, startled when he did the same into the kiss. He pressed more into your space, finally sending the easel, the palette, and canvas all crashing down in a giant mess. You could stop this time the laugh thath came over you and neither could he. You pulled apart, looking at the splatters of paint on the floor and kept laughing.

“We are acting like kids.” He said, but was unable to keep the smile off his face.

“I put a sheet before.” You smiled at him when he looked at you like you had just hung the moon or something. “Besides, we are drunk.”

“Yeah.” He said, peppering your face with kisses. You grabbed him by the lapels, and pulled him for another kiss, still grinning. “We should stop. We are drunk.” Xavier insisted.

“Compromise?” You asked, kissing the corner of his mouth. You were unable to keep your hands off him, it seemed.

“Depends on the deal.” Xavier answered, exposing his neck for you to kiss. You gave into the tentation and kissed one of his tendons.

“You hold me while we sleep and talk it over tomorrow?” You asked and he merely hummed.

"Dorm or here?"

"Here." You said, pecking him one last time on the lips. Xavier pulled a couple of sheets together and got started on making a small nest for you two to sleep. “Aren´t you scared tomorrow we will freak out and…?”

“Go back as we were?” He asked, while you picked up the canvas and the palettes, carefully setting them aside. “ It's better to have stopped as we were than to take it further. Besides… I know I won't be freaking out tomorrow. I have made my peace with these feelings a long time ago.”

You arched an eyebrow. Xavier was already laying down, with his head on one of the throw pillows you insisted on having around, and he claimed to despise. You knew they were useful. “What about me?”

“I'm drunk enough not to care.” He answered, nonchalantly. Then, making grabby hands at you like an overgrown toddler. “Come here. We can regret it tomorrow.”

He was right. Oh, how you hated that about him, the way he was unashamed and unapologetic about his feelings. It was admirable, really. He knew himself, in and out. Knew what he wanted and wasn´t going to apologize for it. You kicked your shoes off and crawled next to him. Xavier was warm, and smelled of all your favorite things. You knew he was an affectionate drunk, just like you. So, you took advantage and layed down on his chest, burrowing your face on his neck and tangling your feet together. He just made a happy noise, not commenting on the way you just assumed. You fell asleep that way.

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of turpentine and a pounding headache.

“Oh god, you can´t seriously be painting right now.” You muttered, covering your eyes with your hand. Everything was way to bright. And you were cold. Not only Xavier had gotten up to paint, leaving you alone on the floor, he had also taken the security measures you were already familiar with when working with toxic paint. That meant, he had opened every fucking window in the place.

“So. “ He said, putting down the brush from the painting he was working on. Casually, way to casually. “Any regrets?”

You sat up slowly. This was it. You could take a leap of faith or pretend nothing had happened. You risked a glance at his painting. It was a sketch of a faceless girl. But the arch of the foot, the way the waist dipped onto the hips, the coy pose of looking over her shoulder, you knew that body, that attitude. You saw it everyday in the mirror. He was taking his own leapt of fate and what else could you do but extend your hand and jump with him? Besides, you were never good at pretending, not even at lying to yourself. You had tried to pretend to hate Xavier, and we all knew how that ended.

“Only the drinking. If we were sober, we could have had so much more fun.” You said, quickly, before his face could fall. The change was immediate. Xavier snorted a bit, lowering his face and then, his trademark cocky smile made its appearance. The one that screamed Xavier Thorpe is a winner and had been the source of many headaches and rage fueled screaming matches for you over the years.

“You know, for someone so talented, you sure were dense.” Xavier commented, sitting on a stool.

“Yeah, and for such a smart ass, you certainly could have chosen a better strategy.” You got up from the nest of blankets and runned your fingers through your hair. “Pulling on my pigtails?”

“Bad attention is still attention.” Xavier gave you a sideways smirk. “There´s water and Advil over there.” He gestured towards your work table. “Besides, it worked.”

You took your time drinking the water and the painkiller. You made sure to rinse the bad taste out of your mouth, wouldn´t want that ruining your plans. Xavier didn´t look like he had showered and was still wearing yesterday´s clothes, buth he had been awake longer than you.

He didn´t make any move towards continuing his painting. He kept looking at you from the stool, a self satisfied smirk in place. That wasn't going to work. You settled down your water and walked towards him, dropping onto his lap.

“Hey.” You said, looking intently at his eyes and then to his mouth.

“Hey.” Xavier answered, one hand tangling on your hair, the other on your hip. He kissed you slowly and lazily. It was perfect and you could not help but melt against him. One kiss turned into two, and three, and before you knew it, they stopped being lazy and turned more purposeful.

“I hate you.” You groaned, when he started laying kisses on your jaw and neck.

“Bit late for that, princess.” He smiled against your skin, slowly kissing a path towards your clavicle. You tangled your hands in his hair, making Xavier groan.

“Oh, you like that?” You mocked him. “ Poor thing.”

“I'm going to take my time with you.” Xavier promised, slowly peeling your shirt off, leaving you in your bra. “Just for being mean.” His fingers dragged over your clavicles and the cups of your bra, never actually touching you in the ways you wanted. Xavier looked at you straight in the eyes, his smugness clear. Embarrassingly, you were already getting wet. You weren't a patient person, and you knew you couldn't beat him at this, so you changed the game.

“Off.” You demanded, tugging at his t-shirt. “Now.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Who died and made you queen?” But for all his grumbling, he obeyed. You tilted your head, looking appreciatively at his golden, freckled shoulders and chest. Perfect for what you had in mind. You cradled his head on your hand, lightly scratching at his scalp with your nails. And then, lower, and lower, until you were scratching his back and making him arch against you with a confused expression, that was half pain, half pleasure. “Well played.” He said, and took off your bra, unhooking it with an ease that spoke of practice. That was okay, it wasn't your first time either. Finally, you thought, finally he was going to do something. But you were wrong again. Xavier lightly cupped one of your breasts in his hands, pulling you for a kiss. He kept his touch light, and you could feel the self-satisfaction radiating from him in waves. Smug bastard, you thought.

“Asshole.” You said, and pulled his hair, forcing him to expose his throat. Xavier bit his lips, but was unable to contain his laughter. You kissed your way down from his jaw to his neck, where you spent a fair amount of time running your teeth against his collarbones and soothing the bites with your tongue. “Not so smug now, are we?”

“If I were you, I wouldn't be so sure, princess. “ And with that, he pinched your nipple lightly, making you moan. It seemed that there was no way to win this game of his, and you were smart enough to accept your defeat.

“Fine!” You said, arching your back and trying to press your chest against his hands. “I fold. We are doing this your way, but please do something”

“Oh, princess. Thought you never ask.” He lifted you easily, scaringly so. You wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to carry you to the nest of blankets. You were unable to hide the way your breath changed when your clothed core pressed against his stomach, or at the way he squeezed your thighs. “Oh, you like this? You poor, poor thing.”

“Fuck you.” You said, pulling your pants off without caring if he saw how soaked you were. By this point, you felt like you were going to lose your mind if he didn't do something. He kneeled between your spread legs, in a pose mockingly similar to what you really wanted.

“Now, that was not nice. Pretty girl, with a mouth like that?” Xavier rubbed his thumb against your lower lip. He did a tsk sound, but you ignored him, choosing instead to capture his finger between your lips. Looking him straight into the eyes, you sucked at it, giving him only a hint of teeth. His pupils dilated and he closed his eyes for a second. Hook, line…

“My mouth can do so much more…” You said, lazily drawing ribons with your tongue on his thumb. “If you let me. “ It had been the wrong thing to say. Xavier pulled his thumb out of your mouth and shook his head a little.

“I don´t think so. “ And he was leaning down and taking one of your nipples on his mouth. You gave a surprised inhale, arching your back. It felt so good. You tried grabbing his hair to encourage him, but his hand stopped you. At first, he grabbed your wrist, but then, he took your hand in his, holding it.

“Please, Xavier, please…” Turns out, you weren´t above begging. You could feel his satisfied smile against your skin, again. God, didn´t this boy get tired of being smug?

“Now, that´s more like it. You sound much nicer begging me to fuck you than screaming insults.” He paused to give you a glance, noting with interest the way your blush went from your face yo your chest and committing it to memory for his next painting.

“Are you seriously using this as payback?!” You asked, indignantly. Because if so, this was going to be a very long morning. Xavier ignored you, placing an open-mouthed kiss to your navel. Then, he went lower, taking off your underwear.

“You are this wet for me, princess?” He smirked, licking a strip from your hole to your trhobbing clit and holding your hips down when you bucked from the floor.

“Xavier, please, I will beg you on my knees if you want, but please, please, please…” You said, losing entirely your dignity when he started pressing kisses to your pussy. It was too much, and he was holding your hands with his, preventing any attempt on your part to do something.

“I asked you something, princess.” There was a dark glint in his eyes, something that wasn't there before. It was… possessive, even. But you were lost, too overwhelmed to even think straight, much less understand what he was referencing.

“What?” Unfortunately for you, you had no clue what he was talking about. Your only thought was getting as much as skin to skin contact with Xavier as you could, so maybe he would fuck you. ”I don't, Xavier, Xavier, please.” You begged.

“I asked, who are you this wet for?” He enunciated, patiently. So that was what he wanted. You could give it to him, hell, at this point it was easy and evident. You would have said anything to get him to fuck you.

“You, you, Xavier, Xavi, please.” The nickname was a new one, but he seemed to like it, because he was taking off his pants and pulling himself out of his boxers. He had a nice cock, proportionate to his height, and with a pink tip that was begging to be sucked. He quickly and efficiently rolled a condom onto himself and pressed slightly against your entrance. You felt tempted to make a sarcastic comment about his confidence this was going to happen, but choose to keep quiet. You weren't sure if you wanted to keep snarking at him.

“I guess that was a good answer, but a little delayed. We'll need to work on your delivery.” He said, and leaned for a kiss. He smelled strongly of your juices. “Now, what do good girls say?”

“Asshole.” You answered, having used the brief respite to regain your wits and your spine, because you weren't the kind of person who went down without a fight. You were his competition for the last years, and you made sure to give as good as you got, damn it. Besides, teasing him was fun.“ Smug bastard, asshole, dick…” You gave him a sweet smile, letting the profanities tumble out of your mouth.

Xavier pulled back, shaking his head. He rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit, up and down, up and down, in a maddening slow manner. You had to give it to him, he had self-control. You closed your eyes and whimpered pathetically. That had been a bad idea. Your pride could have taken the blow of not resisting until the very end, but you had chosen to be a brat and now Xavier would make sure to make you pay.

“Cute.” Xavier smiled. “Let´s try again.” And he just leaned back, resting his weight on his heels, totally unbothered by the situation.

“You win!” You said, pathetically. Oh, your revenge would be terrible. Next time, he would be the one crying and begging. You would make sure of it. “Just fuck me already.”

“Mmm, won't do. You are a good girl, be polite.”

“Xavier, please, I will cry if you don't fuck me right now. Please, please, please.”

“That's more like it.” And with a painstakingly slow thrust of his hips, he was finally inside you. Immediately, you wrapped your legs around his back, digging your heels on his back. “Good?” Xavier asked, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“More than.” You answered, eyes closed in bliss. Xavier was just the perfect size to make you feel the stretch, but not hurt you. “Now move.”

He started to protest, but you clenched around him. You were getting fucked now, if Xavier liked it or not. Period.

“Got it, pretty girl.” Xavier settled on a moderate pace, hitting that interesting place inside you just right. You clawed at his back, desperate to find some kind of purchase and to meet him thrust by thrust. “You look so good taking my cock.”

“Less talk, more fucki-oh.” You started saying, but Xavier seemingly took offense, because before you could finish your piece, he set a more punishing pace, punching the air out of your lungs. You couldn't help but moan.

“So, you don´t, fuck you are tight, you don´t like hearing me telling you how good you look?” Xavier panted, malicious grin back in place. He thumbed at your clit, never stopping his thrusting. “Because you look good enough to eat, trust me.”

You couldn't think of a smart thing to say. Not a single one. You just held desperately to him, hands clammy from the seat of your bodies. The world could have been ending, and you wouldn't notice. “Xavier.” You begged, not even knowing what you were asking for. He was everywhere, hands on your hips, hair, neck, clit. It was getting too much. “Xavier.” Again, more urgent. “Xavier, please.” And it sounded more like a sob.

“Shhh, I got you. “ Xavier leaned down, taking one of your nipples on his mouth. His back bowed, almost uncomfortable. The fucking height difference. His hand rubbed at your clit, faster this time. His thrusts, hitting the perfect spot. It was too much. You surrendered to the pleasures, coming so hard you could swear you blacked out for a second. Xavier fucked you through it, extending the pleasure. You couldn't, for the life of you, stop the tears from falling. You were trembling all over, frantically gasping for air like a woman drowning. When your breath finally calmed down a little, Xavier brushed your hair out of your face. “You with me?” He asked, soothingly brushing your inner thigh back and forth.

“Yeah.” You hided your face in your hands. God, that was embarrassing. Crying during sex? It had never happened to you before.

“Hey, it's cool.” Xavier said, keeping himself immobile. He was still inside you, you realized. Still hard, too. “Prettiest thing I have seen. Do you want me to keep going?”

“Yes.” You rolled your hips against him and tightened yourself, making him buck and curse. You smiled slightly. “Come on, Thorpe. Give it to me.” He gave a startled laugh at the use of his last name, but started moving again.

His thrusting became more erratic, now that he was focused only in his own pleasure. He tried to hide his face on the crook of your neck, but you were having none of it. You pulled at his hair, making him groan. “Come on, let me watch you.” Xavier obeyed, a pretty blush making its way to his face, neck, and ears. He looked… absolutely decadent. You got what he meant now, by good enough to eat. With your own perverse smile, you bit into his shoulder. It was a guess, but an accurate one. Apparently, he liked some pain mixed in with his pleasure. Xavier came with a quiet moan of your name, trembling in your arms. He collapsed on top of you. You didn't say anything, but he rolled off, taking off the condom and knotting it.

Suddenly, the door to the shed opened.

“Oh my fucking…!” Yoko said, covering her eyes. Next to her, Ajax barked out a laugh.“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“What the hell?” Xavier asked, covering himself with one of the sheets and throwing his shirt to you. You quickly put it on.

“Y/N didn't come back last night to the dorm. I thought you killed her, so I got Ajax to come with me to look for her.” Yoko explained, peeking through her fingers.

“Yeah, he killed her with his dick.” Ajax snorted, unable to keep a straight face.

“Thank you for looking out for me, Yoko. I'm sorry for worrying you.” You said to her. The look on her eyes told you you owed her so many lattes it would be a century before she bought coffe herself.

“Why would you assume I killed her?” Xavier asked, indignantly. “She was the one who set a carnivore plant on me!” He complained.

“That was one time!” You screamed.

1K notes · View notes

george-weasleys-girl · 1 year

Note

Hii, how are you?

Can I request something from your prompt list? Fred x Ravenclaw, shy and quiet(total opposite of Fred) reader

"I never said I was in love with her!" "Maybe not out loud."

And

"How can I let her know that I worship the ground she walks on, but in, like, a chill way."

Thank you! I love your writing ❤️

Fred x Shy Ravenclaw Reader

~•~

The library is not the place one would think to find Fred Weasley, including Fred himself. The library was for pulling pranks on Filch in the restricted section during the wee hours of the morning, not actual studying. And yet, here he was, chin resting in the palm of his hand, a dreamy gaze on his face, ignoring the open book in front of him. Truthfully, he had no idea what it was about, as he'd grabbed it randomly off a shelf so he could at least appear like he was doing something studious.

"Hey Freddie!" George's voice startled him out of his reverie. "Whatcha up to?" He asked, following his twin's gaze.

"Just, uh, trying to get a bit of studying in," Fred slammed the book closed.

George smirked, picking up the book. "So, what's so engrossing that you forgot we were supposed to start working on our new invention a half hour ago."

Fred looked up at the clock. "Oh shit, sorry Georgie, I must've lost track of time."

"No worries, mate," George said with an absent-minded air, flipping through the book. "An In-Depth Study of Wizarding World Economics. Riveting stuff, no doubt. I can see how time got away from you."

Fred rolled his eyes and snatched the book out of his George's hands before striding out the door. "Are you just going to stand around here wasting time, or are you gonna come help me work on things?"

George chuckled and glanced over at the only reason his twin had graced the library with his presence today. Y/N sat with several other of her fellow Ravenclaws, digging through the mountain of books piled on their table.

Fred had been head over heels for her ever since Professor Sprout paired them up for a project in Herbology. Though he'd never in a million years admit it. George reckoned it was because his twin had no idea how to express himself to someone like Y/N. Most of the time, all Fred would have to do is waggle his eyebrows and give his trademark wink, and girls would be falling all over themselves to get his attention. However, unlike his usual type, Y/N was a shy, quiet bookworm who paid more attention to her newest novel than the flirty overtures of Hogwarts' most notorious prankster and playboy.

~•~

"I think Fred Weasley has a little crush on you," Jess commented as they left the library.

Y/N stared at her friend. "What gives you that crazy idea?"

"Because he barely took his eyes off you the entire time he was in the library."

"Nonsense, he was probably looking at you or Cara. You two are the hottest girls in Ravenclaw."

Jess laughed and nudged Y/N's arm. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

Y/N giggled and shook her head.

"But, in all seriousness," Jess continued. "He was most definitely looking at you and only you."

"Well, even if he was, what am I supposed to do about it?"

"I don't know, talk to him maybe."

Y/N sighed. "You know I have trouble talking to guys."

"Or you could just flash him one of your beautiful smiles," Jess suggested. "At least let him know you're interested. You are interested, right?"

"Yeah, a bit," Y/N looked down to try to hide the heat rising in her cheeks.

~•~

"Hey, are you paying attention?" George asked Fred for the second time in a row.

Fred shook himself. "Of course I'm paying attention."

"Then, what did I just say?"

The older twin crossed his arms. "You asked me if I was paying attention."

George rolled his eyes. "Before that."

"Oh," Fred looked down. "Um..."

"Exactly."

"Dammit, I'm sorry, Georgie. My mind's just somewhere else today."

"Obviously," George replied. "Look, if you're so madly in love with Y/N, why don't you just ask her out."

His twin's eyes went wide. "I never said I was in love with her!"

"Maybe not out loud," George said.

Fred sighed. "Is it that obvious?"

"A blind man could see it, Freddie."

"Great...so the whole school knows?"

"Well, I wouldn't say the whole school," George said. "Just all of Gryffindor and half of Ravenclaw. And maybe a few Hufflepuffs. And probably one or two Slytherin."

"You're not helping," Fred groaned.

"Ok, ok, sorry," George chuckled. "You could just try talking to her, you know."

"Oh gee, why didn't I think about that?"

"I'm serious, mate. Talking to girls is, like, second nature to you."

"Yeah, but Y/N's different. She's not like the other girls I've dated."

"Oh, you mean like the ones I have to peel off of you with a putty knife?" George asked with a bemused grin.

"Well, yeah," Fred grinned. "But it's more than that. She's the first girl that I've ever really liked, you know, like as a girlfriend and not just a fun fling."

"That's a good thing," George said. "All the more reason to talk to her."

"But she's so sweet and shy. I don't want to come on too strong and scare her off or anything." Fred ran his fingers through his hair. "How can I let her know that I worship the ground she walks on, but in, like, a chill way?"

~•~

Today wasn't the first time the twins had skipped school, nor would it be the last. After receiving a bit of birthday money from their great-aunt, they decided a trip to Hogsmede was in order, sneaking off after breakfast. Neither of them expected to run into another Hogwarts student. And they certainly didn't expect that student to be Y/N.

Honeydukes appeared to be empty of customers when they bounded through the door. For the first time in a while, Fred's mind was on something other than Y/N.

"Our pranks are getting a little lackluster," he said, facing George as he walked backward down the aisle. "We need to make them bigger and better." To emphasize his point, Fred threw his arms out wide as they rounded the corner and felt the back of his hand connect with someone's face.

~•~

Y/N didn't skip school often. It was only when the stress of Hogwarts life got too much that she sought the peaceful atmosphere of Hogsmede during its downtime.

With finals looming on the horizon and a massive research paper for Potions due by Friday, she'd barely lifted her nose from the grindstone in the past few weeks. Add to that her friends' relentless teasing over the Fred Weasley situation, and it was enough to make her scream.

Y/N needed a day off. And she took it, arriving at Honeydukes just minutes after it opened.

Less than a half hour later, she sat sprawled on the floor, dazed, her candy strewn around her in every direction as she tried to figure out what in the hell hit her.

"Are you ok?" Fred knelt down beside her. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea you were there."

"You're what hit me?" Y/N turned her head to look at him. "And right between the eyes, too."

"It was an accident!" Fred stammered. "I swear I didn't see you. We thought we were the only customers in the place."

"That's true," George confirmed, picking up the scattered sweets. "The place is usually pretty dead during the week."

"Oh-yeah--right. It's ok. It's not all your fault. My mind was a million miles away. I should've been paying more attention," Y/N gave a small smile and moved to stand up. Now that the shock had worn off, her cheeks burned at the thought of how ridiculous she must look right now.

"Here, let me help you," Fred offered his hand. She nodded and let him help her up.

"Thanks," she said, taking her basket of candy from George. "I should go pay for my stuff."

As she turned away, Fred spoke. "Hey, um, could I buy you lunch? As a way to make up for almost knocking you out."

Y/N tried to calm her pounding heart while her mind raced almost too fast for her to keep up. The idea of having lunch with Fred Weasley both terrified and thrilled her. Because despite what she'd said to her friends, she did like Fred. More than she wanted to admit. Secretly, she'd hoped he'd ask her out. But not like this. What even was this? It wasn't a date. Or was it? Were all her friends right? Did he really like her, too? Or was this just a friendly gesture? And besides, what would she even talk about? She wasn't prepared at all. Conversing had been easy during their project. She just kept to the subject matter. But, small talk? She sucked at small talk...

"Y/N? Are you sure you're ok?" Fred stepped toward her. George stood behind him, a concerned look on his face.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry." The heat rose up in her cheeks again. Dammit.

"I could walk you back to castle if you'd prefer," Fred offered.

As nervous as Y/N was about having lunch with him, it wasn't enough to tempt her to go back to Hogwarts yet. "Um, no, I-I'm ok," she assured him. "Lunch sounds nice."

~•~

"You're the last person I expected to see here today," Fred commented to Y/N while they waited for food at the nearly empty Three Broomsticks.

She gave a sheepish smile and shrugged. "I've been stressing over finals and everything. I needed a break."

"I thought Ravenclaws didn't stress over school," George said.

Y/N almost snorted Butterbeer through her nose. "We stress over school more than anyone else. Why do you think we're studying all the time?"

"She does have a point," Fred agreed, garnering a warm smile from the shy Ravenclaw.

~•~

The sun was setting when Fred and Y/N stood outside Ravenclaw Tower. After spending an afternoon with the infamous Weasley twins, any lingering nerves she had were long gone.

"I had a really fun time today," Y/N said.

"Me too," he grinned. "You know, I was thinking, if you want, we could do this again sometime. Just you and me, though."

"I'd like that a lot."

"Really?! Okay, great!" Fred all but bounced in place. "So, it's a date?"

"Yeah, it's a date," Y/N confirmed, a smile spreading across her face.

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @imshiningjustforyou @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @princess-paramour @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16

#fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #hp universe #hp fandom #harry potter fandom #harry potter universe #weasley twins #george weasley x platonic

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rapz-rites · 1 year

Text

Demon Spawns

Damian Wayne x Powered!Fem!Reader

When your’s and Damians future kids come to the present

A/N: Inspired by @cipheress-to-k-pop version of this. Please give me some feedback, it’s always appreciated :3

Word Count: 2500+

Warnings: mentions of a miscarriage, was lightly proofread and revised

Future

-Honestly, it’s not Mar’i’s fault

-You needed someone to watch the twins as you and damian had to go away on a business trip for a few dayside hours hours and I

-Mar’i eagerly accepted

-Yes, she knew she wasn’t supposed to bring the twins to the cave but she didn’t think this would happen

-The worst she expected was that they broke on of Tim’s gadgets

-She didn’t expect them to accidentally send themselves to the future

-You were going to kill her

-Mar’i did the only thing she could think of at the moment, call her best friend, White Rabbit, aka Lian Harper, to help her get them back

Present

- You and Damian had been dating for a year already

-You really loved him

-After 3 years of knowing him and 2 months of dating, it was only a matter of time until you both found out about each other

-Damian being Robin didn’t entirely surprise you, it just made a lot of sense

-The constant disappearing, the odd phone calls, the weird excuses

-At least he wasn’t cheating (Damian would NEVER cheat)

-Growing up adopted you never knew your birth parents, just that they had to have been metas because you have powers

-You had powers like Kori and more, you even kind of looked like her

-People joked that you could have been her daughter before she came to Earth

-Those jokes make her uncomfortable

-You thought everything about her was interesting: she’s heir to the thrown on Tamaran, her sister sold her, she’s been married 4 other times, and even the fact that she 9 stomachs

-Today was a normal day at the Manor

-Everyone was just chilling in the BatCave

-Bruce and Tim were working on a case on the BatComputer

-To you, everything in the BatCave started with a ‘Bat’

-BatKeys

-BatSeat

-Your secret name for Alfred was Batler (Bat + Butler )

-Dick and Kori we flirting talking by the weapons

-And you were watching Damian train with Jason

-Watching Damian train was one of your favorite pastimes whenever you were in the cave

-Suddenly a bright light purple light flashed in the middle of the cave, right between Damian and Jason as they were jumping to attack each other,

-The light startled them, causing then the jump back

-All the heroes prepared themselves in a fighting stance

-Next thing everyone knew, two small babies, a girl and boy, were in the middle of the cave

-They looked like they could be twins, but you couldn’t say for certain from where you were standing

- Everyone was surprised, two random babies just appeared out of nowhere

-“Aye, Big Bat. Bet you don’t have a protocol for this, do ya?” Jason says trying to break the silence

-The two babies looked around confused

-They couldn’t be older than a 9 months

-Last they checked they were with Mar’i in the BatCave, now they were in the BatCave with strangers they didn’t recognize

-BOOM, waterworks

-“I’ll go and get Alfred” Tim said dashing up the stairs

-Everyone knew he was probably the least qualified to deal with children, mainly because he’s always sleep deprived

-Naturally the two most recent parents went and scooped one up

-“How did they get here?” Dick asked rocking the girl in his arms

-They both calmed down a bit looking at the person holding them and back at each other and back at the adult

-They stopped crying, but were still fussing

-“While they’re like this let’s get saliva for a DNA test to find out who their parents are”

-Bruce took two swabs and collected saliva from each of the babies

-After, Dick and Kori passed the babies around to see if anyone could calm them down

-It wasn’t until Bruce handed you the little boy that he stopped crying, cooing in your arms and little hands reaching for your face

-Jason stopped, looked at Damian, and questioned if it would be the best idea to hand a baby to him

-“Is handing Damian a crying baby the best idea?”

-“Probably not, but it’s the only idea we have” Dick responded

-Handing the baby girl to Damian, she looked at him and stopped fussing, smiling at the face in front of her

-“Never thought I’d see the day” Jason chuckled

-“What do you think their names are?” Kori asked gaining everyone’s attention

-“How about we get in a circle, go in a circle calling out random names and see who they go to” you spoke

-Everyone nodded and hummed in agreement

-You and Damian placed the babies on the floor jointing everyone else in the circle

-Before you could call the first name, a voice interrupted you

-“After this game, I believe you will be needed these”

-The voice belonging to none other than Alfred said

-Tim decided to join the circle at that point

-“Thank you” you called out

-Alfred gave you a small smile and nod before heading up the stairs

-You all started with your little game ‘Name the Babe’

-“Makayla”

-“Isaiah”

-“Nick”

-“Elizabeth”

-After 5 minutes of calling names and receiving no reaction from the babies, a ding

-It was from the BatComputer, signaling the results from the DNA test

-Dick and Kori

-Bruce opened the test and everyone had a face mixed with shock and confusion

-Under ‘FATHER’ was a picture of Damian

-”The Demon spawn had a spawn.”

-Under ‘MOTHER’ was a question mark and underneath it was ‘match not found’

-You turned to Damian with a look a shock, confusion, and… betrayal and one that said ‘please don’t tell me you cheated on me’

-Damian took a step towards you, and you took a step back

-You rushed up the stairs heading into the manor

-Damian rushed after you

-“This makes no sense. Damian has only ever been with anyone other than YN and Raven”

-“And he’s not the type for random hookups”

-Bruce checked the database and noticed he didn’t have yours or Ravens DNA in the system

-“Kori contact Raven and have her come to the BatCave”

-“Bart!” Tim shouted

-“What? Haven’t you been paying attention, Damian is the father not Bart” Jason retorted

-“I know that! But Bart’s from the future. Who says the babies can’t be too?”

-Back in the manor, Damian was looking all over for you

-Your car was still parked in front, so you were somewhere in the manor

-Fifteen minutes later Damian found you on his bed, facing the window, looking at the garden

-You’ve always loved how Damian’s room faced the garden

-He slowly walks towards you until he’s also on the bed

-“Beloved-”

-“I was pregnant”

-“What? When?”

-“Four months ago. I lost the baby early on, I didn’t even know until I went to the ER. I thought it was food poisoning from that Thai place I went to with Steph and Cass, but they told me I had a miscarriage. I was 3 weeks”

-“Why didn’t you tell me?”

-“I didn’t know how and I was somewhat relieved. I always told myself I’d wait until I was married to have kids. Also we can’t raise a kid now Dami. We’re only 21 and you work in a dangerous field.”

-You put your foreheads together, caressing his cheek with your hand

-Damian just wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down, forcing you to lay with him and you accepted his embrace

-“Todd messaged me”

-“What did he say”

-“Tim come to the conclusion that the babies most likely came from the future and father doesn’t have yours or Raven’s DNA is the system, Raven is on her way so they can run the test again”

-“And if they’re not mine”

-“Let’s not worry about that right now”

-After an hour of silence and Damian just holding you, you both make your way back to the BatCave hand in hand

-Raven, and even some League members, are now there too

-“Can I see the little ones” Diana asked with a smile on her face

-She has always had a soft spot for children

-“Careful. She just ate” Kori informed her, handing Baby Girl over

-While you and Damian were gone, Tim made the executive decision to call them Baby Girl and Baby Boy until the mother was determined

-“Awww, so precious”

-The Themyscrian rocking the small baby in her arms

-Baby Girl soon became fussy, most likely from Diana’s cuffs

-Diana handed the baby off to Raven

-It made sense

-We were here to see if you or Raven would be their mother (yk that motherly connection)

-Once Baby Girl was in Ravens arms she quickly calmed down, almost as quickly as she did with Damian

-You didn’t show it, but you felt a pang in your heart

-Damian just squeezed your hand lightly but you couldn’t take your eyes off Raven and Baby Girl

-Bruce spoke up, breaking you out of your trance

-“I need both of you to get a good saliva swab”

-You and Raven both did as told

-“Here. My arms are getting numb” Dick says handing Baby Boy to you

-You smile at the tiny human in your arms

-After 10 of waiting, a BatComputer dinged

-Bruce went to open the results

-Damian standing right behind him, and you and Raven on each side of him

-On the screen where a picture of the babies

-When did they take that picture?

-The babies were at the bottom middle and above them was the same picture of Damian as earlier and under ‘MOTHER’ was a picture of…

-You

-WAIT! How did they get that picture?

-You were too happy to question that

-“Happy to say that Baby Girl and Baby Boy are Y/N’s and Damian’s ”

-“Thank Azarath”

-You laughed at Raven, she pulls you into a hug

-“These babies are so adorable but I don’t think I’m cut out to be a mother. I’ll gladly babysit though”

-“Wait. You guys have been calling them Baby Girl and Baby Boy?”

-No one other than Wally West would ask that question

-“Come one. You can think of something better to call them”

-Before you could say something, Damian stepped in

-“Actually we already know their names”

-You smiled

-You handed Baby Boy to Damian

-“This is Soren Jackson Wayne”

-“Jackson after Drake”

-You walked over to Raven, who was holding a sleeping Baby Girl, and picked her up

-“And my gorgeous daughter. You are Jaylena Mariah Wayne. Jaylena inspired after Jason but means blue crested bird aka Nightwing. For that time you both saved me”

-You and Damian make eye contact not breaking it even when the others spoke

-Dick and Jason both smiled

-Jason punched Roy’s side

-”See that. Demon spawn named his spawn after me”

-“Don’t worry father we plan on naming the next ones after your mother and father”

-You looked away quickly,

-Bruce had a shocked look on his face

-“There’s going to be more?!”

-Jason could already see it: A demon army

-Suddenly another bright light flashed in the middle of the BatCave

-Everyone but you and Damian had a fight stance ready

-Bruce and Dick stood in front of you and Damian

-Two people now stood in the middle of the BatCave, they looked like vigilantes

-One was dressed in all white, with a matching white masked with bunny ears falling along her wavy ginger hair

-The other, well anyone could tell who she was

-Mar’i Grayson

-“Hi mom. Hi daddy”

-The girl in all white removed her mask as she walked towards Roy giving him a big hug

-“Hi dad”

-It was obvious to say that Dick, Kori, and Roy were baffled

-It wasn’t even a few hours ago they saw their daughters in the care of Barry and Iris, playing along with the other superhero kids

-Now they were teenagers, vigilantes at that too

-Mar’I was walking towards you with a pleading look

-“Sis”

-Sis?

-Mar’I never called you sis

-She always called you this funny tamaranean name she heard from Kori, it’s supposed to be a pretty flower but dangerous or something

-“I am so so so so so sorryyyyy. I know you told me not to bring them to the BatCave by myself but it was only for a minute to get something. I didn’t think they would get sent to the past. I put Sor and Lena down for a second then boom they’re gone. Please don’t kill me”

-She turns to Kori and Dick

-“Please don’t ground me”

-You step towards her

-“I can tell you didn’t want this to happen and I know my future self will probably get on you for this. So just please, please get my babies home safely”

-Mar’i nodded eagerly as you handed her Jaylena

-“I promise. I really don't want to be on the LoA’s bad side” she chuckles

-Damian looked slightly confused at the remark

-He gave Soren to Lian, staring her down with a look that says ‘drop or hurt my son, I’ll hurt you’

-“Daaaaddd”

-“Stop scaring my daughter Damian”

-“Tt”

-“Anyways… Congrats on your…nevermind” Mar’i stops when she noticed your promise ring that Damian gave you

-Soren looks at Mar’i, reaching for her but found it no use when Lian wouldn’t let him

-He looked upset

-As he started fussing a blue power orb slowly started to form about a foot above him

-Thinking of only your kids safety, you quickly absorbed the energy

-“Our kids have powers?” Damian asked in shock

-Naturally you were in shock too

-You barely knew the full extent of your powers compared to other metas your age, and now at least one of your kids will have them too

-“At the moment only Soren does. He uhm… does that sometimes. So far it only happens when he’s mad or extremely fussy.”

-Lian’s watch starts beeping

-Before she can even open her mouth Mar’i talks

-“We really have to go now”

-Damian walks up next to you, placing a hand on your waist

-“Bye Uncle D. Bye bye sis”

-Again with the sis?

-You and Damian give a small wave goodbye

-Just like that, with a flash, they’re gone

-Everyone goes their respective ways

-Tears start to well in your eyes when it’s just you and Damian in the BatCave

-“Let’s go to bed, Beloved. It’s been a long day”

-You follow him to his room and you both go to sleep

-That night you dream about your future with Damian, Jaylena, and Soren

Back to the Future(hehehe see what i did there)

-“Great! They’re still sleeping. We can get them to bed before Y/N and Damian get home”

-Mar’i was ready for this day to be over

-She knew she would get hell from you and Damian for what happened

-“Oh. We’re home. What happened?”

-Hearing your voice, Lian took that as her que to hand Soren over to Damian and hop out

-Mar’i turns around to see you and Damian dropped head to toe in LoA attire

-“Uncle D. Sis. Back already?”

-Damian walks over to Mar’i also taking Jaylena in his arms

-He walks over to you, with both twins in his arms, placing a kiss on your temple

-“I’ll put them to bed while you deal with Mar’i”

-With that Damián walks up the stairs into the manor

-“Before you blow a fuse, I know I shouldn’t have brought the twins to the Cave but I had no choice. I couldn’t leave them upstairs by themselves. As soon as they flashed to the past I immediately got help to go get them. And I almost ruined your proposal surprise but i didn’t so that’s something. I promise this will never ever EVER happen again”

-“Go home”

-“What?”

-“Go home. It’s late and we’re all tired. We’ll talk tomorrow”

-“Oh ok”

-You retire to yours and Damian’s shared bedroom as Mar’i leaves

-“What did you tell her”

-“To go home and we’ll talk tomorrow. You know she almost ruined your proposal”

-“Not surprised”

-You slip into bed, cuddling up next to Damian, head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around your waist

-You bring your left hand up admiring your engagement and wedding rings

-“It was a great proposal”

-“Damn right it was”

-You chuckled

-You look up at a sleeping Damian, admiring the man he grew to be

-Physically he’s always been attractive, but he grew mentally and emotionally

-He wasn’t the same boy who entered the manor when he was 10, emotionally and mentally detached from everyone, doors and windows shut to everyone, stubborn as a mule

- Actually, Damian will always be stubborn

- You both grew to care deeply for each other

… after writing for about 15-20 minutes I decided I wanted to make a part 2 but of the proposal…😚

I kinda want to make another version, the kid is like a teen. Should I???

Should I write why Mar’i called the reader ‘sis’?? Wouldnt y’all like to know? Do you have any ideas?

#damian wayne x reader #batfam x reader #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #koriand'r #starfire #lian harper #roy harper #mari grayson #diana prince #wally west

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shelby-fangirl00 · 1 year

Note

Hiii! Could you write a Tommy x reader where the reader grew up with the shelby and has always been super close with either John or Ada because she's closer to their age. Then as she got older Tommy started to become protective/jealous over her? Maybe some angst with some fluff at the end? You're the best (:

HI! I love this request. Sorry it took a little longer than expected! Hope you enjoy!

Kempton Race

Warnings: Adult language, mentions of sex

Word Count: 2327

‘Red or white?’ Ada asked me as she held up two different colored heels.

I turned around and faced her, tilting my head and squinting my eyes.

‘Definitely red today. You’ll ruin those white ones in all that mud.’

She smiled and sat down at my small kitchen table, placing the small red heels on her feet.

Ada had invited me to join her and her family at the Kempton Race. It was a big day for the Shelby’s or at least for Tommy. Monaghan Boy was racing today.

As we continued to get ready in my tiny home in Small Heath, we decided to have a couple of drinks.

‘Do ya think Avery will be there today?’ She asked me, hiding the mischievous grin from behind her glass.

I shot her a warning look and threw my whiskey back before answering.

‘Jesus, I hope not.’ I rolled my eyes.

‘Is that over with then?’

‘He’s such an arse. I’m only of use to him when he needs his balls emptied. Fuck him.’

She raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders.

‘Don’t they all?’ she laughed out.

‘Fuck em, eh?’ She said to me as he held her glass up in the air. She was referring to her strange relationship with Freddie. She didn’t like to talk about it much, but what I did know about him is that he was also a dick in the same way Avery was.

Avery was a local boy who, on occasion, visited me in the night. It was nothing serious, just fucking. I had finally stopped letting him come by. It was doing more harm than good at this point.

I smiled and clinked my glass into hers before taking another swig.

Me and Ada had been the best of friends since we were little girls. We were both the same age, 22. We had been inseparable for years. Growing up around Ada and her older brothers was interesting, to say the least. I was close enough to John growing up too. All three of us used to get ourselves into trouble quite often. I have many fond memories with the Shelby’s, even Tommy. Me and Tommy’s relationship, as children, mostly consisted of him teasing and embarrassing me in front of his brothers.

Over the last couple of years, he was…different. I didn’t know what it was about him that had changed. He seemed to be protective over me at times, which I found to be odd. If me and Ada stayed out extra late with other men at the Pub, instead of scolding just Ada, I also was lectured. Was it jealousy of the other men in my life? Or did he see me as more of a sister? I could never tell with him. The tension between us lingered often. I didn’t know what we were, but he had never expressed any feelings towards me. To him, I’m probably just his sister’s friend, too young for him to even consider me in that way.

The older we all get, the more I noticed Tommy. He was obviously always the pretty boy growing up, but now, it was different. Every time I was near him, his beauty seemed to just…radiate. It was quite intimidating.

-----

Ada and I were sitting in a booth at the races. Looking around to see all of the nicely dressed betting men bustling around outside. I wondered if Thomas was anywhere nearby.

‘Don’t you worry, dear, Tommy will be here any moment now.’ Ada giggled out.

I swatted at her arm and shushed her.

‘What are you talking about? Think that I’m looking for your brother?’ I chuckled out. I was, in fact, looking for her brother. I would never admit that to her.

‘Oh come’on! I see the way you two look at each other when you think the other isn’t looking. It’s quite adorable actually!’ She whispered to me as she leaned in.

Just then, we heard a low voice coming from behind us.

‘Evening, ladies.’ Tommy sighed out, his hands stuck in his pants pockets, as he walked around us and sat down beside me.

You eyed him down as he took off his cap and slid it into his coat pocket, slouching into the seat next to me. I couldn’t help but to stare a little longer than I probably should have. His sharp jaw, freckled, pale face, heavy blue eyes…

He then turned his head to face me, catching my eyes in his, face expressionless.

‘I haven’t seen ya in a while, where ya been hiding?’ He asked me, his thick Birmingham accent flooding my ears.

‘Not hiding, I know that much. Are you feeling lucky today, Tommy?’ I asked, quickly trying to change the subject.

He looked into my eyes a second time, making my stomach do flips.

‘Oh, I am feeling very lucky today, love.’ He said, his eyes not leaving mine.

I couldn’t help but flash him a small smile, letting my eyes fall down the frame of his body before looking back out at the race track.

Just then, two large hands grabbed my shoulders and squeezed a little too roughly.

All three of our heads turned to see Avery standing behind me, a big drunken grin on his long face.

‘Well hello love, where have you been hiding out?’ He asked me sarcastically, mocking Tommy and I’s previous conversation that he had been listening in on.

‘What can I do for you Avery?’ I asked, standing up and facing him. Tommy stayed silent, not looking away from the racetrack now.

‘So official today! Have you already forgotten that I was just in your bed the other night?’ He questioned me loudly, trying to embarrass me.

My face turned red and my hands balled into fists at my side.

‘Fuck off Avery, or I’ll smack that shit eating grin right off your face!’ Ada yelled out at him from her seat beside me.

I heard Tommy chuckle quietly at this.

‘Alright, enough. Come’on Avery,’ I sighed out as I walked around Thomas to take Avery’s boney hand and pull him away from any more embarrassment. I walked him back towards the stables, stopping in front of Monaghan Boy’s empty one.

‘What’s going on Avery, why are you here?’ I sighed out, crossing my arms over my chest.

He extended his arms and stepped closer, pulling me into him.

I turned my face away, rolling my eyes at his awful attempt of affection. He was always handsy like this when he was drunk.

‘Avery, I told you already…I can’t see ya anymore.’ I whispered, placing my hands on his chest lightly, deciding that fighting him would just make things worse.

‘Why is that? Am I not enough man for ya anymore? Would you rather have some thieving Shelby inside of you now, is that it? Is that why you’re here with them?’ he spat out. The alcohol on his breath stung my nose.

‘Avery, you’re drunk…please-

Just before I was able to demand that he let me go, he was jerked back completely flying and slamming down on his back. Clumps of hay and mud covered his clothes and hair.

‘Sounds to me like you should take a hint and let go of her.’ Tommy said calmy. Avery’s eyes were wide with shock and a bit of fear.

When Avery didn’t move fast enough, Tommy leaned over his body.

‘Lay a hand on her again, and I’ll cut ya. Now Fook off.’ Tommy said lowly.

Avery then stood up quickly, glancing in my direction for a quick second before walking away. Even he was smart enough to know not to push Tommy any further.

‘Tommy…that wasn’t necessary. I had it under control.’ I said as I straightened out my dress and wiped the dirt off of my shoes.

‘You sure about that? Cause it didn’t seem like you did.’

I rolled my eyes dramatically.

‘He was just drunk. He gets handsy, but most men do in my experience. He’s harmless-’

‘-Until he isn’t. I’ll cut him if he lays another hand on you.’

My breath quickened as an awkward silence fell over the both of us.

‘Well, what do you care anyways Tommy? I don’t need you to protect me.’

I looked up to study his expression.

‘I don’t want you hanging around him anymore love, I’m serious.’

I giggled at this, stepping closer to him.

‘Even if he is a arse, I will see whoever I damn well please. What are you, my father?’ I scoffed at him. What right did he have telling me what to do and who to see?

He raised an eyebrow at me as his face hardened even more, his jaw clenching.

‘Far from it.’ He stepped an inch closer, so close that I could reach out and touch him. My mouth hung slightly open as I practically gushed over him. His eyes were glossy and full of a look I hadn’t seen before. I could tell he was irritated by my disobedience.

I wondered if this was more than just me being protected and safe. If Ada had noticed Tommy’s affection towards me, then there must be something there, right?

‘Why are you saying all of this? Why do you care?’ practically at a whisper.

‘I care because…I can’t stand to see you wasting your time on someone like that! Some small-town fuck like him.’

‘Tommy, you realize that I am small town too! And so are you! How am I any better than him?’ I yelled out at him throwing my hands up in the air and slamming them back down at my sides.

‘But you are more than this fucking town and he isn’t! You are different than him! You’re…intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are kind…and forgiving, sometimes too forgiving! You have a bright future compared to the rest of us.’

He stopped and rubbed his hands into his eyes and sighed loudly, realizing the weight of his words that were now up in the air. Practically stunned from this, I twiddled with my fingers before opening my mouth to speak.

‘You really think that about me, Tommy?’ was all I could think to ask.

His eyes slowly fell from my face to trace the curve of my body. I shuddered under his gaze, goosebumps covering the back of my neck. I imagined him kissing me, the feeling of his skin making contact with mine. It seemed so unattainable.

‘Are my affections towards you not obvious?’ He calmly asked, his voice going up an octave.

‘Tommy…I didn’t have a clue.’

‘Do you not feel the same?’

‘I…I didn’t say that. I just thought you only saw me as one of your little sister’s friends. I didn’t think you had ever given me a second thought.’ I tried to look at him, but he looked down at his muddy black shoes. I think my response disappointed him.

I took a few steps closer to him and placed the palm of my hand on his cheek to cup his sharp face, forcing him to look at me. As our skin connected, his eyes peered down into mine, surprised by my sudden forwardness.

He lifted his hand to place against mine. He turned his head slightly, letting his freckled lips plant the softest kisses on my wrist. His eyes studied the nervous expression on my face. I had never seen Tommy act so tenderly.

A deep warmness filled up my entire body as our skin touched for the first time. We had never been this close to each other before.

All at once, his hand gently dropped mine to place his rough fingers on my chin, lifting my face up to look at him. He let a light smile flask across his face before he craned his neck to peck my jawline. He lifted his face slightly as I turned my head to face his.

At the same moment, our lips collided. They slowly molded against each other’s for a few seconds before parting.

My face flushed and became red under his gaze, but my eyes never left his.

‘Do it again, Tommy.’ I panted out, trying my hardest not to crumble underneath him.

Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed me again. His plump lips pushed into mine, this time with more force. Our mouths parted, and recollided again and again and again. The kiss quickly became hot and needy. His hands made their way to tangle into my hair. My heart was nearly beating out of my chest, I was sure he could feel it.

My hands greedily clung to the clothes covering his chest. I teased him with my tongue, slightly flicking it into his mouth. He moaned desperately into my mouth as I did so, sending a warm wetness in between my legs. I couldn’t fathom what was actually happening. It felt like a fever dream.

As I parted ways with his mouth, He softly nibbled my bottom lip in between his teeth, pulling at it lightly before letting go completely.

I stood there, not daring to say a word. We both continued to breath heavily, our chests inflating and deflating. We quickly tried to wrap our heads around what just happened.

I smiled up at him sweetly as his thumb then made contact with my lips, rubbing them lightly back and forth, studying them with his eyes, his mouth parted open, still reliving the feeling of my lips on his.

‘You’re even more beautiful up close, which should be impossible.’ He stated quietly, thumbs still tracing my lips.

I smiled before lifting myself up on my tippy toes to crash my lips on his once more, not being able to get enough. I had no idea what would happen after this. What I did know is that after having a single taste of Tommy, I wouldn’t be thinking twice about Avery ever again.

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