#always held her carried her never let her actually do anything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astrophileous · 7 months

Text

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

2K notes · View notes

toppersbitch · 1 year

Note

sebastian sallowxF!reader with the prompt ❛ keep it. it looks better on you. ❜

Keep It, It's Yours // Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Characters are not aged up here, there is nothing 18+

Summary: Sebastian just loves the way green looks on you!

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: none this is just fluff

Prompt: “Keep it. it looks better on you.”

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

You lay on the lawn just near the lake on the Hogwarts grounds, watching the clouds hurry by. Sebastian was dead asleep, his body resting just beside yours. It was a warm day, the last day before summer break began. You would go back home and so would Seb, far away from each other. It was heartbreaking; the two of you had been close since you started in year 5, and now it was the end of year 6. Your teachers despised the two of you, you got in double the trouble. No real feelings had ever been spoken between the two of you, little touches of the hand and knee, words were spoken during late nights and in hidden tunnels.

“Seb,” you said lightly, pushing your shoulder up against his. He opened his eyes, turning his head to make eye contact, “I think we should jump in the lake,”

“But it is forbidden,” he was mocking one of your teachers, he rolled over onto his side, and you did the same.

“Who told you that?” no teacher had ever said that and unless it was told to him before year 5, you’d never heard it.

“I don’t know,” he rubbed his eyes with his hand. You smiled, Sebastian always assumed everything at the school was off-limits, that's what it seemed like to him.

You sat up, untying your boots and setting them to the side, evening was approaching. The sun has almost gone behind the outline of the castle. Seb sat up groggily, following your steps. You had already packed your robes into your trunk, your clothes being strictly casual since then. Why not jump in your clothes? It was shower day anyways. Seb stood up, waiting for you, his hand outstretched. His foot tapped impatiently, mocking you as you placed your hair up.

Grabbing his hand you hoisted yourself up, holding tight and running towards the lake. You waded in quickly, pulling Seb behind you. The mud squished between your toes, moss, and lake vines snaking up your body.

“I sure hope the squid doesn’t get us,” Seb pinched at your legs, and you squealed, kicking at his hands. You splashed each other, the water feeling refreshing over your sunbaked skin. Laughing at little jokes and such. He lifted you throwing you deeper into the lake, swimming with ease out to you. You held onto each other, the sadness of this week's end events.

“Seb,” you pulled his eyes from the ducks her was watching, “ I hate summer.”

“Why on earth would you hate summer?’ his eyes carried nothing but confusion.

“I hate not being with you,” you felt your heart grow heavy, “it's so boring.”

“Floo powder is a thing you know,” he had a sarcastic tone, his house fireplace wasn’t connected to the network and neither was yours.

“Seb you know what I mean,” you rolled your eyes at him.

“Yeah I know,” you both trailed off, looking around. Night had fallen fast and it had grown surprisingly cold. Your body shivered, teeth chattering involuntarily. However, you stayed, anytime with Sebastian was worth it's total in gold. The bell rang, meaning it was time for dinner, no matter if you two actually made it, Sebastian had an in with the house elves and they’d do just about anything he asked.

“Let’s go back,” you said, your voice quivering from the cold. You swam back, every motion sending chills. The outside air wasn’t much warmer, the air consuming your body. You shivered, tying your shoes and waiting.

“Here take my sweater,” Sebastian offered his knit sweater had been wearing all day. You pulled it over your head, the smell of Seb filling your lungs.

“Why don’t you wear green more?” Sebastian was staring at you, his robes hanging over his shoulder like a used bath towel.

You were a Slytherin of course, but you opted for the least amount of green in all your clothing, black fabrics being the majority in your closet. You shrugged, in response beginning the walk back to the castle.

You both skipped dinner, opting to take showers and sneak out again later for a snack, possibly in the restricted basement of the library, this was a favorite meeting spot for the two of you. You dressed, pulling over Sebastionas sweater again. It was possibly the coziest thing you’d ever put on, the Slytherin rooms were known for being cold, the walls being all stones.

“I got us lamb chops and eclairs,” Sebastian sat roughly on the floor, a bag of food falling into your lap. You emptied out the contents, chowing down. The conversation flowed effortlessly, jokes and laughs, even snorts echoed off the cement walls. It was late, even the ghosts were quiet and you no longer had to occasionally hide from them.

“I don’t wanna go home,” you said, your head resting on Sebastian’s shoulder, his on top of yours. You twirled your wand in your hand, watching little sparks fly with just your thoughts.

“Either do I, but we have to,” his words were tired and slurred, he was half asleep and you knew it. You stood up, pushing your mess back into the bag, and helping Sebastian stand, you both stood facing each other, tears welling in your eyes. There was no promise you would be able to say goodbye tomorrow. You wiped your eyes on the sleeves, the green fabric soaking the up.

“Oh here's your sweater,” you pulled it over your head, wadding it up and stuffing it into Sebastian’s hands, he grabbed it tightly, letting his hands graze yours. He pulled you into a tight hug, beginning to sniffle himself.

The next morning was hard, shoving the rest of your belonging into your trunk, and finding places for the trinkets you collected this year. Moving onto your desk you saw a specific green sweater folded neatly, a note pinned to it. You hurried over grabbing the note eagerly.

It read: “Keep it. It looks better on you anyways” signed Seb

His sloppy handwriting is barely legible. How on earth did he sneak this in here before leaving? He was such a mysterious being.

You folded the note, slipping it into your journal, holding the sweater to your chest. Seb had already gone home, and this was all you had of him for the summer, other than the letters of course.

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

God this is so cute!!!!!! I hope this everyone enjoys <3333

Find my other stuff HERE

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian #sebastian sallow #sallow #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fluff #hogwarts legacy imagine #harry potter hogwarts legacy #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #harry potter franchise #fuck jk rowling #jk rowling

3K notes · View notes

hazbinhotelxreader · 1 month

Text

Protective Carmilla x fem blind reader!

“Stay Away From Them”

(Requested by PoosayDestroyer on AO3)

A/n: I hope this isn’t disrespectful towards blind ppl since I’ve never wrote about them before-

Summary: reader is blind, and some perv tries to upskirt her, and Carmilla is there to protect the reader

Noises, noises, noises. That’s it. The only thing you could ‘observe’ was noise. Reason for it? Your blind. You’ve been blind ever since you entered hell. The sinners in hell are based off of their insecurities, their deaths, and things they hate. You? You were always called ‘blind’ because you were so oblivious to a lot of things..and hell decided to ‘gift’ you with that.

It wasn’t all bad though. Hell did give you something that you don’t regret having, your lover Carmilla. She never minded that you’re blind, if anything she compliments you and appreciates you, even if you can’t see. And even if you can’t see her, you can just imagine how gorgeous she actually is, she sounds gorgeous too.

The weapon armer has always been so carrying and sweet for you. She’s basically your eyes. She helps you get dressed if you struggle, helps you get to places without bumping into anyone, and explains everything that’s going on that you cannot see. You really love her. Another thing she does for you is keep other demons away from you, she’s pretty darn protective.

Currently, you and her were walking around Pentagram cities streets in hell. She was with her daughters, and you, helping them out with orders in this part of town since she believed it was too dangerous for young girls like them to be alone. You decided to tag along because you just wanted to help and support.

While walking, she holds your hand to help you navigate through the streets and avoid demons. "Careful my love...there's.." she looked down at a dead sinners body that has been brutally gored by an exorcists spear, deciding to not tell you that theres a dead body right below your feet. "..a stump" she corrects and lightly pulls you around it.

"why's there a stump on the sidewalk?" you ask questionably, your head turned towards where her gorgeous voice was, trying your best to show your paying attention to her even if you can't see her.

Carmilla chuckles softly, she always found it cute when you weren't aware of many things, even if it was worrying too. "Oh well, it is hell afterall..something is going to be unexpected." she responds with a softer tone rather than her usual stern one.

"I guess your not wrong" you smile a little at her words and tone, oh god how much you'd do to see what she actually looked like, you know shes gorgeous. Odette and Clara came to a halt up ahead, Odette holding her clipboard as she checks off the territory, and Clara pulling an angelic spear out of a dead sinners body, lucky for you, you could only hear the spear pop out of the sinners side rather than see it.

Carmilla held your hand, then lead you over to a wall. She gently placed your hand on it, and told you to stay right there and to not let go. She wasn't going far, maybe 5 feet away from you wince her voice was pretty clear. She was talking to her daughters about some of the areas in the town they'd go to collect more of the angelic spears. You stayed quite, but also unaware. Lets just say today, wasn't the best day to wear a skirt.

While you were unaware, and obviously not paying attention to anything you can see-well, because your blind..a middle aged small imp approuched you. He was about half your size, maybe to your hips. he had a perverted smirk on his face as he sneaks up on your unaware and oblivious state. You gasp a little when you feel your skirt get lifted a little, there was no wind, so why..? Then you felt a hand on your rear, you jumped and spoke up "hey!" you exclaim with a gasp, catching your lovers attention.

Carmilla's head shoots over to your direction when she heard your distressed cry, and saw the hellborn, fury filled her eyes as she walked over and gave him a push, grabbing your hand to let you know your okay, as she glared down at him. "you little twit..touching girls? Do you really have nothing better to do with your pathetic little life?" the overlord threats with a dangerous look on her face, she would not tolerate such an act of disgust. "You have thirty seconds to run before i send a bullet through your retarded brain." she said calm, stern and intimidating with her arms crossed as she looked down at the quivering imp. The imp nods and scurried off fast, its safe to say he won't be coming near you again. Carmilla's tone and epression softened with concern laced with it. "Mi amor? are you alright? he didn't hurt you right?" she asked, both of her hands placed on the sides of your head as she tilted your head from side to side to check on you.

You let out a soft, shaken chuckle at her actions. "yea..im fine. Just a bit shaken.." you say softly, moving your hand up to hold one of her hands that were on your cheek, you looked in her eyes, even if you couldn't see her. "Thank you my dear..i probably would have been forced into something if you weren't here.." you say in appreitation.

"Anything for you my love.." she chuckled softly and gave you a soft kiss on your forehead while holding you close in her grasp. "Now lets get going, this town is already unsafe for the girls, and now you too. I don't feel comfortable putting you three in danger." she states worried, calling her daughters back over to you two as you both start to walk.

"fine by me.." you say as she takes your hand, leading you and being your eyes once again. Yes, being blind has its cons, you can't see, bumping into things are often, and you won't be able to observe things the ways others do...and it makes you feel left out. But, it also has its pros, its advantages, and sometimes the best thing that happened in your life, and for you, that Carmilla. No doubt about it.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #carmilla x velvette #carmilla carmine smut #carmilla carmine x fem reader #carmilla carmine x reader #zestial x carmilla #carmilla x fem reader #carmilla x reader #carmine #carmilla carmine #velvette x reader x carmilla #Carmilla carmine x blind reader #blind reader #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #romance #carmilla

446 notes · View notes

razzle-n-dazzle · 2 months

Note

Yandere headcanons for any character of your choosing? I loved the Adam ones !

ᯓ★ General YANDERE! Headcanons (triple threat!) Angel Dust / Reader, Mammon / Reader, Vox / Reader TW! If you don't like this type of content please scroll away: Dark romance, Romanizes Yandere(s), stalking, drugs, alcohol, mention of (sexual) abuse, toxic relationship at the start (Mammon), gaslighting, murder, weird ex behavior (Vox), accusations of incest (didn't happen, Vox), manipulation (Vox), kidnapping, forced love/relationship, emotional manipulation.

ᯓ It was the moment that you started treating Angel Dust as Anthony, not just a play-thing or a fuck buddy or a guy to do crack or get wasted with, just plain, pure Anthony, that anything really stirred in him.

ᯓ He had seen you around the street a few times, never really talked to you yet just always managed to point you out from the crowd. He never knew why, nor did he understand why you, another Sinner just trying to live your own life in this hell-pit, always stuck out to him like a sore thumb anytime he was near your vicinity. It wasn't until he actually spoke to your first in the hotel that he realized why; You weren't a bitch, you didn't act like everyone else in hell and it was odd.

ᯓ It was like you were a toned down version of Charlie, still bubbly like her and very much being able to keep up if need be, yet you were quiet and kept to yourself; Speaking only when spoken to, or when need be, and even then your voice carried this honey sweetness Angel only expected in the voice of, well, angels. "Oh, hello, Angel!" Was your first words to him. And they strangely held no malice, irreverence, or flirtatious tone, not even undertone; They were just plan and simply, and slightly sweet, and was just a greeting. He wouldn't realize how you friend spoke to him would stick into his head later that night, nor that starting that conversation with you would change his life so much. After all, with a new resident at the hotel, who happened to be at bar at the same time as Angel, was nothing to be note worthy or right home about. There was only one bar at the hotel, and it was kind of used as the main common room even if there were couches.

ᯓ Yet you made it rememberable. And you always made your interactions with Anthony after that rememberable.

ᯓ Yandere! Angel is more Anthony than Angel speaking, thinking, feeling, at least most of the time; Because it was Anthony you had made an impression on that night, not Angel. It was Anthony you had captured the heart of truly and wholly, leaving no room for competition by completely devouring his attention and infecting his mind with your sunny smile and sweetened voice. His mind, from that day on, was captured by you and your everything. Even when trying to be Angel, trying to be that perfect Porn Star everyone knows him to be, as soon as you capture his attention it's like he can't think. All he can see is you, all he can smell is you, all his thoughts are consumed and eaten by your presence. By your soft touches and your words and just by you. In his eyes, you're perfect.

ᯓ He wants to be both be you and be with you at once.

ᯓ He wanted your sweet nature, which still left room to let you stand up for yourself. He craved to have your gentle touch, not soiled by his line of infiltrating, disgusting, consuming work. He yearned for your body, to both be plush and flushed against his hands and yet also for your body to be his. He wanted you. He wanted your being, your soul, your everything. He wanted your trust and your kindness, even if he felt he didn't deserve it. He wanted to keep you to himself and shield away from what he was, who he was, and who he worked for.

ᯓ He wanted to love you and for you to love him.

ᯓ During your first few months of being friends, and maybe even after, Anthony made it a point to try and talk to you whenever he could. He also made it a point to scroll endlessly through your Instagram, Twitter, and any other form of social media in Hell that you had and he could get his hands on. He slowly began to learn who you were friends with, where your favorite food joints where, where you liked to hang out, your style of clothes, and if you had family down in Hell. Anthony get's so absorbed in having you in his life that something in the back of brain slowly began to justify his stalkerish actions, even encouraged it when he felt disgusted doing so before. 'They're posting this for all of Hell to see', 'You're just trying to learn more about them to be better friends', 'Other people would do this too, you're not doing anything wrong', 'They might like it'.

ᯓ Though he wouldn't let you know he does this. He wouldn't want to creep or freak you out, that would just drive you away, and he couldn't bare not having a day where he got to see your face or hear your voice. And he also wouldn't be able to handle it if you began to look at him with shame and fear. Oh, he would never want to hurt you like that.

ᯓ He would never want to hurt you, ever; Nor would he want, or let, anyone else hurt you.

ᯓ He needed to keep you away from Valentino and Angel Dust. Anthony knew you loved him, at least to some sort of extent, yet he didn't know if you would love Angel Dust; A porn star who's had his private parts flashed all over hell and has done every kinky shit that could be thought up of. And oh, Valentino, if he ever caught wind that Anthony Angel Dust was dating some sinner, he would be pissed. Either going out for you directly or going after Angel himself, and while he could take the abuse, especially if it meant saving you the pain, he would not put you through that shit.

ᯓ He would keep you close, made sure you felt protected and safe and loved, yet far enough to never entangle you in his fucked up work world.

ᯓ Yandere! Anthony, who adores any sort of non-sexual physical contact between the two of you, even if it takes him a moment to get comfortable with. Forgiving and forgetting old, and active, habits were hard, and yet you waited for him, you held patience and understanding for his background. It just made him fall even more madly in love with you.

ᯓ Yandere! Anthony, who may or may not have killed a few sinners for even daring to try and touch you (thinking you were a porn star just like Angel) just because you associated with him.

ᯓ Anthony, who will receive a phone call from you while doing a shoot for Val and try his best to answer right away, even if it meant facing repercussions. He just couldn't bare thinking about the possibility that you could be in trouble and missing that call, just to find out you were ordering coffee and forgot his order; But if it had been the latter, he would never forgive himself. Plus, while being plowed into by a few dozen guys, he always craves to hear your voice. It's like a breath of fresh air he needs to keep going.

ᯓ Anthony, who's able to put up with Val's requests and wants because he knows he gets to return to the hotel to see you, and your smiling face and feel you pepper sweet kisses into his cheeks if he wanted. Maybe even cuddle up against you, listening to your rhythmed breathing as you took care of his aches and pains. As you gave him the after care he didn't know he so desperately needed until know.

ᯓ Anthony, who didn't know how jealous he could get until he noticed you started hanging around a certain person a lot more; Or maybe that person wanted to start hanging around you a lot more. Either way, even if he had worked that tag, he constantly asked to tag along. And when you weren't looking, he would shoot glares and threats at the sinner who dared try and steal his lover; He would keep this up for as long as it took for the sinner to get the message and leave you along. And when you started to realize that friend was distancing themselves from you, he would swoop in and call him an asshole and that you deserved better friends. All the while he cupped your cheeks, squishing your face together, and peppered a kiss in between your eyebrows to quell the pain you felt.

ᯓ Anthony who is nothing short but a soft Yandere, who simply just wants you all for himself. You were too good to be faced out there with all the creeps and the weirdos of the world; And while he might not fully deserve you, you seemed to have picked him and he'll make sure your after life if the best experience of your life.

ᯓ "You cannot be in love with- with that two-timing, bitch ass face, Mammon! Don't you see what he's doing to you?!" Where some of the last words you ever heard from your long time friend before effectively cutting them off; Because it's what you thought best at the time. It's what Mammon told you was best at the time, claiming they were simply jealous and wanted to end your perfect relationship with him. It would be the last words from any sort of 'reason' you would ever heard, words trying to help but you knew they didn't understand. And that wasn't from Mammon's reasoning, nor his infection in your brain, nor his overpowering stance that easily made you tremble and obey.

ᯓ It was by your own thoughts, your own judgement that you had passed from dating Mammon ever since the day he killed your lover; Hanging them up on stage for everyone to see, a wide, psychopathic grin on his face before he turned to you, asking for your hand in marriage.

ᯓ And you had been afraid of him, afraid of death, when you had agreed all those years ago. He was a Sin, a Prince of Hell, and that made his power greatly out way yours. You had been afraid of the reproductions of you had said no, even if you truly had held no love or even care for Mammon at that time; The fear of his power pushed you to agree.

ᯓ Mammon, who had been spying on you since they day you came into his Ring of Greed, without your knowledge. Had always held a fascination about you, and the way you consumed and toyed with his mind, making him feel like you were worth than any amount of money or gold in the world. Which was ridiculous, as he knew for a fact you wouldn't be worth much, even if he did make you a marketable sex toy. Fizz? He was worth money, he was worth time, he was worth so much more than you and yet... when Mammon looked at you, heard your laughter, saw your smile and the way you just lived your life, you were suddenly worth more than anything he could get his grimy, greedy hands on.

ᯓ You became all he wanted to get his greedy hands on; And when Mammon wants something, he will get it, even if it meant he had to use force. So killing a Lover, that was something he was willing to do if it meant you would love him. Surely you could look past that and love him all the same!

ᯓ At first, you were like Mammon's little play thing. Sure, he loved you deep to his core, so much so it terrified you cold, but he could tell you didn't love him back. Not yet. So he showed you all the reasons you should love him over your past Lover, even if he knew they couldn't play this fun little game right back: He would take you out on the town, made sure you were dressed in the most expensive and flashing and tight fitting clothes in all of the nine rings! He took you to expensive restaurants, on fancy excursions, and basically became like a sugar daddy just to prove himself. All the while also acting like a body guard, stabbing anyone with one of his many spider-like legs if they dared get to close to either of you. He would buy you fancy gifts, he would show you luxurious nights in bed, he would even introduce you to the other Sins as his lover to solidify your place.

ᯓ All he needed was your love! And you should have just gave it to him from the start!... but, playing this little game is fun too. Even though he was making sure it would be temporary.

ᯓ To say you were too scared to leave Mammon at first was would be an understatement; You were blood-cold terrified.

ᯓ Yet, little did you know that the influence you had in Mammon's brain was greater than you or him had ever thought. Now, Mammon knew will you were constantly on his brain, that he was constantly seeking for you in every room, that he was drunk off your presence along and that he never wanted you to leave his side! Hell, he would have killed you if you ever tried!... at first.

ᯓ Though there's a weird thing that happens when you're both deeply in love with someone and around them all the time, not allowing them to venture far from your side. Something that is so extraordinary that it can't be completely summed up or explained in words. It's like, you slowly start realizing how to love. That was the best word to describe it as. It's something that wasn't caught on at first, something that slowly inched it's way in and changed the way you and Mammon functioned together. And it was weird but wonderful all at the same time. Where Mammon only cared about showing and flashing you off, he slowly started to notice what you did and didn't like to eat. At first he brushed it off, but soon found himself ordering your favorite meal from any choice restaurant when you weren't with him, which is a rare occasion, just to taste it. Just to remind him of you. Then it turned into appreciation, small but encroaching. Whether he would notice the small things you do in the background, even if you didn't fully love him, which made his life a whole lot easier; Which made Fizz a whole lot happier, which made him a whole lot more money. How you always knew what he wanted and needed after a long day, how you fetched it for him just because he looked tired. Just because it was nice. And all these slow baby steps, of learning how to love and not yearn for someone, changed you both for the better. More so Mammon than you.

ᯓ Think of your relationship now more like Gomez and Morticia Addams; In a weird, still fucked up way.

ᯓ Mammon didn't exactly worship the ground you walked on, but he did worship you a lot more than before. Always having you in front row seats at his show, or if he was judging sat upon his lap like a Princess. In which would leave him to his own greedy, grimy thoughts and before you knew you, small peppers up your arm turned to kisses on the neck, and then Mammon having you straddle his waist as he took the air from your lungs; Kissing you with all the greed of the world, yet passion as well. He was hungry for you.

ᯓ He was starving.

ᯓ He was both possessive, largely so, and protective of you. You were not let outside the house without Mammon or some sort of guard, not that he trusted them entirely. While he didn't want you to get hurt, or damaged, he also didn't want your body to be on display for other eyes if he wasn't there. Your body was all his, and while people can gawk at it and stare all they want, he will be right there snickering and sneering at them. He will always be there.

ᯓ He is big on PDA, big on showing everyone who you belong do, big on showing you off, big on making sure people knew no one could touch you as long as he was here, big on making everyone know you were kid... but Big on making sure you were happy too. Even if he is an asshole and loved to make sexist jokes or laugh at and with you at the most inappropriate times or say he's going to make a sex doll of you because it would turn in such a profit!- (Which he would never, your body, especially the best fucking part, was only his.) -He still cares enough to care about you and your happiness.

ᯓ He's a douche, but a loveable douche; You just might need to teach him some proper manners, or else all your clothes might as well be covered from the blood of every sinner in Hell.

ᯓ You actually used to date Vox, used to be seated right next to him in his TV programs, helping run his show behind the scenes, helping him with his frustrations; Basically, being an unpaid worker and doing it all just because you knew it helped Vox. It made his day less stressful, it allowed him to relax. Sure he could have been overbearing at times, a little possessive even around the V's, yet he was generally a good lover and you enjoyed his company.

ᯓ Yet you had to put your foot down and end your relationship with him due to this possessive attitude. You had found it cute at first, though when he went as far as to threaten and stalk one of your siblings, because he thought they were way too close to you, you couldn't handle it. Even more so when he tried to gaslight you, basically shouting out: "No sibling should EVER be that fucking close to each other! He was fucking touching you, and I'm not going to fucking stand for it, you hear me?" And he had never shouted at you before, even while frustrated. So it had taken you aback a little, even more so when you say how his eyes widened, how a twisted grin strung itself on his face. He wasn't Vox; He wasn't your Vox. "So it's either ME or THEM. Pick wisely here." This wasn't the Vox you had fallen in love with. The charming man who was chivalrous, who had an award winning smile, who made you swoon and laugh, who you could talk to for hours even if he ranted about everything that annoyed him during the day. This wasn't him, he wouldn't be grabbing your face as he was now, harsh and indenting, basically breaking skin and causing you to bleed on his hands. Staring at you with a crazed look, making you choose between him and your family, making accusations that your siblings had incestual interested in you! "You're crazy." The words left you winded, like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs in one sad attempt to voice yourself. A sad attempt it was indeed, and you knew that as soon as Vox let out a growl and forcefully shoved your head to the side, effectively knocking you down to the floor. This wasn't him, the thought continued to swirl around your head as your body scrapped across the polished floor. As you shook a hand out, attempting to crawl away from Vox, attempted to escape anything else he might through your way to let him cool down by himself. Yet, a pain yell was the only reward of that fruitless effort of yours from Vox slamming and digging his foot into the middle of your back. Tears prickled in your eyes, a choked out sob, as you could barely make out the glitched words that spewed out of Vox's mouth.

ᯓ "What the FUCK did you just say to me, bitch?!"

ᯓ Safe to say your family and friends had to get involved, had to help you sneak out in the middle of the night and place you under protection. You knew better than to forgive Vox after something like that, his act completely and utterly broke all the trust you had for him; And if he hit you once, he would hit you again. So you stayed far away from The V's corner of the Pride ring, far, far away; And slowly you started the process of healing, of learning how to do life without Vox at your side, of learning how to not be afraid he might turn up, of learning how to live again.

ᯓ You didn't realize how much he had drained you mentally and physically over the course of your relationship, as it was all hidden as acts and gestures of love; Of nights alone, cuddling in the dead of night while no one else knew. Of drinking glasses of wine, watching some late night program or ranting about your shitty lives. Of hanging out with the rest of the V's and of going out with Vox and feeling like you were on top of the world!

ᯓ And slowly you started to feel safe again, after months and months had past with no Vox, you started to go outside with more confidence and by your own; You ventured and you saw and you thought you were safe. Vox couldn't hurt you any longer, Vox had no more control over you, Vox didn't care about you anymore so why should you care about him! He can go suck some power Overlord's cock and get his power through the people he keeps around him. He can go fuck off because you didn't need him anymore.

ᯓ But, oh, Vox needed you.

ᯓ And you didn't know, you couldn't know, that he's been tracking every step you took outside your home; Silently listening to all your conversations, silently always being there, inches away from you, foaming at the mouth with the idea of having you again. Yet waiting. Always waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And now you're alone, and you're unnoticed in a crowd of sinners, and you're in perfect range...

ᯓ And you'll be his soon enough.

ᯓ You don't remember much after heading into that store. You don't even remember leaving it. In fact, you didn't remember much, and any events that happened after you had entered that store kind of blurred together in a hasty mist. All you could remember is that you had gone in, attempting to find a new camera or laptop for your sibling; Who had been just crawling up your ass, bugging you about the latest technology that had came out and how it would do wonders for their career... that and you knew they just wanted a new laptop or camera, even though theirs worked perfectly fine. And yet, you cannot remember if you even managed to get to the camera or laptop section before everything god mudded and hazed.

ᯓ "Well, fuck me in the ass, you're awake!" And then an all too familiar voice rang out in the room, which you hadn't taken to notice you were in. A room, your eyes shot up to take it in, that was unmistakably familiar; A bedroom. His bedroom; Where you were tied in on a plush chair, where he had made his way over to you. Where he now, grabbing the arm rests of the chair, leaned tauntingly over your smalling frame, with that crazed smile. Oh that smile, one that used to live in your dreams, first welcomed and then hauntingly. That smile that made you coward down and away, paired with those crazed, piercing eyes. "No no," Vox would then coo, reaching his clawed hands up to cup your cheeks. His actions were gentle and sweet, like he was holding a glass vase that could be destroyed even with the slightest pressure added down onto it. "Hey, hey, look at me. I'm not going to hurt you... look at me, Darling."

ᯓ And yet you didn't meet Vox's eyes, you couldn't, and instead Vox would helplessly watch as you cowered away from him and flinching at his honeyed touch; As you feared him. Feared.. HIM! The one man who has silently killed everyone who had crossed your path, everyone who had made you uncomfortable, everyone who dared tried to through anything your fucking way he killed them all! For you...

ᯓ AND YOU DARED FUCKING COWER AWAY FROM HIM LIKE HE WOULD HURT YOU?!

ᯓ "I SAID FUCKING LOOK AT ME!" Snapped Vox as a sudden, sharp, pain stabbed into your cheek, causing you to choke out in pain, as Vox forcefully snapped your neck towards him; Forcing you to look him directly in the eye. You saw the way his left eye was wide open, swirling black lines around his pupil. That crazed look, it painted his face, and yet something inside of you was coaxing you that it was okay. That he was crazy because he cared, because he loved you, because he wanted you to be safe...

ᯓ Because he was sorry.

ᯓ The voice was strong, it pounded against your head even as you knew logically it wasn't that; None of what that invading, creeping, engulfing voice said true! Vox wasn't sorry for his actions, he never would be, he was, and is, boiling and pissed and controlling. He was a man who got what he wanted when he wanted because he forced it that way. And yet, the voice was so coaxing and sweet... And you watched though a fuzzy mind as Vox slowly kneeled down in front of your chair. Where you even tied up anymore? You could barely tell. Gently, his hands slid down your face, the blood cascading down with them, as he felt your figure against his hands once more. And slowly, gently, still staring up at you, he took your hands in his. He played with something cold, solid, against your hand, a wedding ring, silently twirling it around your finger as a honeyed smiled sunk onto his lips, "Honey, sweetie," His voice started, glitching out slightly before leveling back out, "I'm so, so sorry for scaring you. Really, I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just frustrated and upset-" There was a break in his speech, allowing for a chuckle to slip through, "-and we both know I can get unreasonable when I'm upset. I promise, it won't happen again, Darling, so.. come back home, please."

ᯓ Something in the back of your head was trying to shout and claw it's way through, trying to break through the skin and flesh of your brain and bleed out it's words and thoughts. Yet it never came to fruition, as the thought past by like a cloud drifting off in the wind from a flutter in your chest. A grin seeping onto your face, "Vox.." You would mumble, tone sweet and loving and forgiving; forgetting; Forgetting what he had put you through, the pain and the suffering you had to bear alone. Forgetting how he plastered your face on TV screens for weeks on end, bashing you to all of the Pride Ring to hear. Forgetting how he had cracked your spine all those months ago. Forgetting, not forgiving. "...I'm sorry for leaving in the first place."

ᯓ And in that moment, Vox knew something you didn't know: He, had, won. You were his, sure under the power of his little mind control, but you were his again and he was yours. And no one, and nothing, is going to ever take you away from him ever again.

ᯓ He'll make sure of it. You wouldn't miss your family anyways, you wouldn't even remember them!

Home | Masterlist

ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.

638 notes · View notes

piperlivingdeliberately · 7 months

Text

Blushing, Crushing, and Totally F*cked! Part II

This is the second part to my first fic! Here's the link to that: :)

Summary: Hazel and the reader grow much closer as friends through the club, and after the emotional bonding meeting, they think they might be ready to grow closer in other ways.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: fem reader (she/her pronouns used), swearing, sexual content (no explicit smut), making out, discussions of divorce, mental health, emotional topics, a bit of hurt/comfort, angsty because I got carried away, etc. Hazel is much less of a loser in this one, but she's just as cute. 18+

Your younger popular self never would have imagined that you would be sitting in a circle with a bunch of losers who you punched in the face every day. Yet here you were, surrounded by violent losers, your favorite loser with a goofy smile on her face sitting to your left. Hazel looked over at you, making you remember how much you never would have expected that smile to make you so weak in the knees.

You still got butterflies thinking about the first time Hazel talked to you; a simple two-word compliment after your first spar made your heart flutter with giddy nerves. The interaction spurred you on enough to allow you to feel comfortable giving her friendly smiles. These quick greetings turned to light touches, then to bolder flirtatious statements, and eventually deep conversations that were cut off by school bells. You wondered when you'd finally gather the courage to discuss what you really wanted to tell her: you had been crushing on Hazel since the first day of eleventh grade. If only your classes were longer than 15 minutes.

"So, we know that the club has been a good way for us to feel empowered physically, but we also thought it could be a way for us to feel empowered emotionally," Josie kicked off the meeting on yet another unexpected note. You were grateful for the interruption in your spiraling thoughts.

The trauma-dumping session began, everyone adding their own little secrets and worries. You felt comforted by the supportive listening ears and voices around you. You had grown so close to these girls, so close that you ached hearing the tales of their pain. You felt your heart clench even more when Hazel timidly spoke up about her tense relationship with her mother.

"It's just been really good for me to get to know people who actually want to know me," she finished, eyes locking with yours before quickly fixing on her shoes.

"I just want to go back to Brittany for a second--" PJ began, but you didn't listen. You rested your hand on Hazel's knee, an offering of support, of friendship, or maybe something else. You completely tuned out the rest of the meeting when her own hand rested on yours. Her thumb stroked your wrist. Your whole body went stiff, but your hand felt like rippling water being held in hers.

"I think that's a good place to wrap up," PJ closed out the meeting, thanking everyone for their attendance as the rest of your friends filed out. You and Hazel didn't move, though. Your hand stayed on her knee, her thumb stayed gently gliding against the back of yours. Her sharp inhale was the only thing that got you to look up from the spot where you touched.

"Thank you," was all she said. You didn't have to ask why she was thankful, and she knew she didn't have to tell you. Something unspoken was always settled between your eyes as you stared.

"You're welcome." You removed your hand, not knowing if it had been there for too long or not long enough. "If you... If you ever want to keep talking about your mom or anything else that bothers you, I'm always here to listen." Hazel's gaze softened even more, which you didn't think was possible.

"Do you want to come over and talk more?" She said it so fast that even she seemed surprised by the question. "I mean-- only if you want to. We could watch a movie or I don't know. If it's stupid, I'm--"

"Yes," you assured her. "Let's go."

Her eyes widened like a cartoon character, so you began rising off of the gym floor to urge her on. "Oh-- okay. Great. Let's go."

...

The ride to Hazel's house was realistically no longer than 15 minutes. It felt like hours, though, with you using all of your energy to avoid staring at her ringed hands on the steering wheel. Your cheeks grew hot at the thought of what they would feel like on your bare skin. Your cheeks grew even hotter when you finally realized that Hazel had already parked the car and was watching you ogle her fingers.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing, sorry." You pushed the door open, waiting for her to lead you into her house.

One step in, you stifled a gasp. Hazel's home was almost as bright and beautiful as she was.

"Do you want to go up to my room? I can grab some snacks," she offered.

"Sure, sure." You followed her like a puppy as she led you through the breathtaking halls of her house. She gathered various food and DVDs before finally plopping down on her bed when you reached her room. You hovered in the doorway for a moment, unsure of where you were allowed to sit.

"Come here, you freak," she joked, patting the sheets next to her. You laughed as you tentatively sat at the edge of her bed. "I've had enough trauma-dumping for the day, so I'm thinking we should watch some Disney for a palette cleanser." You grinned like a little kid at the assortment of movies she had laid out before you. "Well?" she asked.

"Well, what?" you replied.

"Pick one." She looked up at you through her dark lashes. "The princess gets to pick the princess movie."

"Fuck off," you scoffed, shoving her playfully to prevent her from seeing how red your cheeks had gotten at the nickname. She simply raised her eyebrows, still waiting for your choice. "Fine." You pointed at the purple and yellow Tangled DVD case.

"Classic." She hopped off the bed and inserted the disc. When she rejoined you, you could have sworn she sat closer than she had originally. Don't think about it, you told yourself. You were just two friends who shared lingering glances and hand touches watching the most romantic princess movie known to man. That's all it was.

The movie was as wonderful as ever, if not more wonderful what with Hazel's poor renditions of all of the songs to entertain you. For the most part, you were able to sit comfortably beside each other. You were completely content to watch the screen, that is when you were able to ignore that you could feel her looking at you instead of the TV at times. It became impossible to ignore when the credits began rolling and you had no choice but to meet her eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked quietly.

She hesitated. "I didn't expect you to be so..."

"...not bitchy?" you finished her sentence.

She laughed, "Well, not exactly. I guess I just never would have guessed that you were so kind and supportive."

"Yeah, most people don't expect the popular cheerleader to be anything but a ditsy fucktoy for football players, I guess." You had meant it as a joke, but Hazel shot up in defense.

"That's not what I meant." She shook her head. "I think what I'm trying to say is that I never would have guessed that someone as cool and-- and beautiful as you would hang out with any one of us in the club."

"Honestly," you sighed. "I never would have guessed it either." You shared a laugh with Hazel, marveling at how sweet she sounded when she was happy.

"I'm really glad you joined the club," Hazel told you, suddenly seeming more shy. Her soft gaze melted your heart, yet somehow made you feel braver than ever before.

"You're the reason I love the club so much." You almost whispered it, so afraid of the reaction it would elicit. Hazel continued to look at you for so long that you considered changing the subject as a diversion from your confession. You were unable to speak, though, because Hazel quickly pressed her lips to yours.

The speed of the kiss shocked you at first, Hazel moving quickly as if she were afraid that you would run away. Your hands found her hair and she instantly relaxed, your lips melting together.

You didn't know that kissing could feel this good, this easy, this right. Despite never wanting to stop, you tugged on Hazel's hair to look at her gasping face.

"Are you okay?" she asked you, hands framing your face in concern.

"God, yes," you laughed. "I'm so good."

Your giggles were once again cut off by her lips. They chased yours with more urgency, so you slipped your tongue against hers. She moaned softly against your teeth, spurring on your ministrations until she detached herself from your mouth.

You almost protested at the lack of contact until you felt her wet lips trailing down your jaw and neck. You whined as she sucked and softly bit a sweet spot, reveling in the sound of her moaning at your own noises. Her hands snaked around your waist, slowly climbing up toward your breasts.

"Is this okay?" she breathed against your collarbone.

"Fuck, please." She let out a low chuckle at your begging, her laughter soon muffled against your skin as she slipped her head under your oversized shirt. You felt her breath dance across your tits, aching for her already. After one delicate kiss to your left nipple, moans filled your ears. Hazel emerged from beneath your clothes when you both realized that the sounds were coming from neither of you.

"Shit!" Hazel exclaimed. "I hate it when she does this." She collapsed onto the bed, breathless.

"Is... Is that your mom?"

"Yes," Hazel groaned from behind her hands. "She's very vocal."

"God, I'm sorry you have to hear that." The pair of you couldn't help but laugh at the obscene sounds from down the hall, clutching each other's arms in disbelief as they grew louder.

"I'm just sorry that we were interrupted," Hazel whispered against your hand before kissing your palm.

"I am, too," you agreed. "It's getting late, though. I should go." You nearly got teary-eyed when you saw the sadness on Hazel's face.

"Right," she said. "Let me take you home."

You found yourself wishing that you lived farther from Hazel when she pulled into your driveway after just a few minutes. You planted a quick kiss on her forehead before thanking her and walking to your front door.

"Wait!" you heard Hazel call your name through the rolled-down window. You bounced back over to her. "My mom's not going to be home this weekend. So, if you wanted to come over again, we could... you know..."

"...watch The Princess and the Frog next?" you joked.

Her infectious giggle sounded like Heaven. "You got it, princess." With one more soft kiss, she pulled away from your house.

The weekend couldn't come any sooner.

...

AHHHHH sorry I got so carried away with this but there will DEFINITELY be a smutty part three for all of you sluts. Let me know if you liked this one!

#hazel callahan smut #hazel callahan x reader #hazel bottoms #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan

899 notes · View notes

lustkillers · 9 months

Text

WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN, THE BEAST COMES OUT !

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - she only sees him in the night, and he's waiting for her.

┃ tags/warnings. ࿐ ❪ nsfw freak shit. dom!euronymous, sub!reader. unprotected sex, cheating on readers behalf, corruption kink? degradation, praising, euro is jealous oh my god, he's possessive ladies!! name calling - "slut," "bitch," "whore," and "good girl" toward the end, scratching, THEY ARE FREAKSSSSS!!! ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - euronymous x fem!reader. ❪ not the actual euronymous, only rory’s portrayal. ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ note - just listen to the song + first time writing smut LMAOOO

EURONYMOUS knew who you were. He wasn't playing into your games, let alone letting you slide with them. He saw you occasionally in his record store, with your boyfriend. He would watch you both from afar, your boyfriend's hands snaking around your waist as he went through records.

He burned with jealousy, wishing he was the one feeling those same hands, to have the chance to clasp onto something or someone so fervently. But he knew that his dreams of being with you were nothing more than a fools errand.

But he wasn't a fool, anyway. He was cold and calculating, possessive and controlling. And he had an intense fixation on you, the glares he gave leaving no doubt as to his feelings.

Every time you and your boyfriend checked out, you and him always shared glances, and it always ended with you winking at him before leaving. The type of wink only secrets held. You held onto Euronymous as a secret, your forbidden fruit.

He was nothing like your boyfriend. Euronymous was rambunctious and unpredictable. He was someone that brought your fantasies to life, the side of you that your boyfriend never discovered.

It was only a matter of time before he lured you in with his charm and you eventually succumbed to his advances. On the first night, it felt like an escape and before long, something more.

You knew deep down that it was wrong but something about forbidden love kept drawing you back again and again. Despite knowing the risks of being involved with someone like him, you found yourself meeting him at approximately 12 in the morning every. day.

Now, he was sat in his dark room, and the room only held dirty secrets between you and him. He was waiting, the clock striking midnight, and you knew it was once again time to carry out your secret romance. You slipped through his door, wearing clothing that you would never dare to show your boyfriend.

Euronymous stood from where he sat, his eyes only holding lust. Not saying anything, he pulled you closer and closer, his breath tickling your neck as he whispered promises of a love that you knew he didn't mean. His hands explored every inch of your body as he kissed you, and you knew that this is what it felt like to be truly alive - only Euronymous had such power over you.

You unconsciously grind up against him, needing him like oxygen. You knew, deep down that this was dangerous and risky but you didn't care anymore. Everything melted away again until it was only the two of you in the room together, safe from the world outside for a few brief moments.

The air felt thick, your head getting dizzy from the rough, yet passionate kiss. His hands traveled from your face to your waist, groping at it. You sighed at the touch, your hands wandering around his waist.

Euronymous now shoved you onto his bed, his body hovering above you. His hair was dangling above your face, yet you had a clear view of his flushed out face. Yet, everything felt so incoherent.

You could feel a sudden rush of adrenaline going through your body, yet you couldn't stop it. Euronymous eyes locked with yours as he slowly crackled a half smirk.

"You're such a slut, huh. Getting with me while your boyfriend is at home." He said in a low voice, his hands sliding under your pants. You shook your head slowly, not knowing what to do or how to react; you were too transfixed by his gaze. God– the pool of your arousal grew more.

His fingers found your clit, drawing slow and tantalising circles. You whimpered as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, and Euronymous knew it, too. He chuckled. He found it sort of pathetic how you were about to come undone from his fingers this fast.

Your back slightly arched from the pleasure, letting out whimpers into the atmosphere. Sooner or later, he shoved his fingers into you, and the pleasure was too much for you to keep eye contact with him, so you closed your eyes in pleasure.

Euronymous noticed this and cocked his eyebrow, He grabbed your face roughly, forcing you to look at him. Then, he leaned into your ear and whispered, "You like that? Then keep your eyes on me, whore."

You only nodded, but you couldn't help yourself but look away again. His hands stopped its motions, sending you an annoyed look.

"N-No...! M'sorry! Please keep going..." You muttered, your eyes shooting open again from the loss of contact.

Euronymous smirked and resumed his torture, but this time a bit more rough. You gasped in pleasure as he picked up the pace. His hot breath caressing your neck sent you into overdrive, and before you knew it...you were coming undone in front of him– screaming for more.

However, he didn't have enough. He suddenly pinned you against the bed, whispering in your ear, "You want more? You'll get it, bitch." He unbuttoned his pants frantically, his cock lined up against your cunt. As if on cue, you spread your legs for him and grabbed onto his back as he pushed in eagerly.

He stretched you out, the bliss filling you both. Your fingernails dug into his back, earning a hiss from his as he groaned into your ear. As he increased the pace, you could only moan and scream out his name in pleasure.

"E-Euro! Fuck, M'so close...!" You shouted, feeling the heat between you two.

"Yeah? He doesn't fuck you like I do, only I can make you feel like this... Don't forget that, bitch." He grunted, his words making you melt into his body.

His thrusts grew erratic, groaning expletives into your ear, while you moaned his name out like a god. Every touch, kiss and lick that he sent against your body sent you over the edge.

The feeling flooded you with pleasure, biting down on his shoulder as he finally thrusted into you. You came undone, but he wasn't done yet. He kept at it, with a heat that seemed like it could never be quenched. His thrusts increased in urgency, wild and feverish.

"F-Fuck! Take it like a good girl..." He yelled, cumming into you.

A shudder ran through his body as he came undone, and the heat between you two seemed to cool.

He let out a deep breath and pulled out of you, rolling onto the bed beside you.

However, you needed to get home, quickly cleaning yourself up. You got dressed and before you left, you pulled him in for a deep kiss, and as you attempted to leave, he grabbed your wrist.

"Leave him," he said in a low voice. Causing you to freeze.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, confusion written all over your face.

"You heard what I said." He said, his gaze unwavering. "Leave him. I don't want you with someone else."

You tilted your head at him, "And who are you to tell me that?"

He rolled his eyes and let go of your wrist. "I want you for myself," he said, his voice low and husky. "And I know you want me as much as I want you."

You bit the inside of your cheek. He was right. You did want him. But, how could you possibly leave someone for someone else? You had come into this arrangement aware that it was only every night and nothing more.

You smiled, tilting your head at him. "I can't simply leave him," you said softly. "But, I still want to be with you."

He nodded and pulled you into his arms again, holding you close as he kissed the top of your head. "Then stay here," he whispered in your ear.

You stepped away from him and peered into his eyes, a warmth sweeping over your body. You couldn't help but feel the chemistry between you two, and it was too strong to ignore.

You stepped closer to him again and nodded, your voice a whisper as you spoke.

"Don't make me regret it, Euro."

#rory culkin x reader #rory culkin #lords of chaos #smut #rory culkin x y/n #euronymous #euronymous smut #euronymous x reader #rory culkin smut #rory culkin lords of chaos

800 notes · View notes

arminsesposa · 2 months

Text

Arguments with your lover (Gojo Satoru x female reader)

That’s just how two lovers will be naturally

Small Drabble! I’ve been super busy but I hope y’all enjoy !

🎶 - Arguments with your lover by Mustard Service (Recommended song for vibe!)

It was rare for you and your boyfriend of two years Gojo Satoru to argue. You two were perfect for each other and were that lovey dovey couple that everyone’s always admired. He’d take you out on surprise dates, but you the biggest bouquet of flowers every now and then and ordering your favorite food to surprise you and overall was really such a great boyfriend. Despite all his amazing personality traits he tended to be quite childish on certain situations. Always teasing you and trying to get you to crack into either a fit of laughter or anger. So when the other day you noticed his female coworker who always gave you a bad feeling approach him you instantly glanced at his friendly confrontation with her as you two got back to your shared apartment and you instantly began to ignore him.

Satoru knew you were upset at him. From the glance you gave him, the quiet ride home, he knew you were upset at him. His female coworker who always tried her best to flirt with him and how he always began to rant about you instead causing her to awkwardly leave the conversation. He showed her a picture of you that he kept in his wallet, and the Home Screen of you carrying a puppy as he was head over heels for you. Despite you being mad at him, it didn’t stop him from getting the chance to tease you about your jealousy. “What’s wrong love?” He said in a teasing way as you scoffed and sat on the sofa scrolling through your phone. He chuckled to himself as he sat next to you his arm wrapped around you. “What is it now my dear? It’s always something new” He teased you once more tilting his head closer to your face as you rolled your eyes at him.

So maybe you were really angry at him. He thought as your body language shifted from how you usually were. You began to move farther away from him and Satoru really saw this as a sign to continue to tease you. “Baby~ What’s wrong?” He asked one more time in a single-songy voice as you snapped. His eyes followed you as you shook your head and stood up immediately to head to your bedroom. He panicked a bit seeing that you seemed actually upset as he Immediately got up on his feet to go reassure you. He tried to stop you as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, placing his head on the crook of your neck. “Satoru” You said seriously as he began to place small kisses to your neck. “You know she means nothing to me right? I don’t want her.” He said softly. “I just love teasing you yknow, can you blame me?” He said as he placed his head on your head not letting you go.

As you two were currently standing still in place you didn’t respond to him. As he held you tightly in his arms, he had biggest smile on his face. He was so in love with you and would never in a million years ever cheat on you. You were the only girl on his mind and he was truly obsessed with the idea of you. As he turned you around so he can see your face he looked you straight in the eyes, a genuine look on his face. “You’re the only girl I want, the only one I need” he said with a small blush and biggest grin on his face. “Satoru” you mumbled softly as you looked at him and noticed how honest he was being. He cupped your cheek and moved some hair out of your face before planting a kiss on your temple. He was so in love with you and would do anything to make you happy. “What were we even arguing about?” He teased you again as his fingers ran through your hair. As you rolled your eyes playfully at him, he wrapped his arm around your waist knowing that you two were on good terms again and despite every argument you guys have he’ll never stop loving you.

“Come on baby, let’s go prank call Nanami and order a pizza”

349 notes · View notes

dwobbitfromtheshire · 6 months

Text

I'm taking a break from my regularly scheduled fic to bring you this awkward and silly ficlet.

Robin loves Eddie, much like an annoying younger sister would, and she wanted to get him this really awesome ring for his birthday. She supposed she could have asked him for his ring size, but then that would have been too easy. So, she's here with Steve, in Eddie's new bedroom, to steal one of his rings.

"I feel like there are other ways to do this," Steve said.

"This is my plan," Robin said. "Shh!"

"There's no one here, Robin," Steve hissed. "This is so stupid. Hurry."

"I'm trying. He doesn't keep his rings in a jewelry box like a normal person," Robin said.

"Would you really want Eddie to be normal?" Steve asked.

"Nah," she said, smiling fondly. "I love that weirdo."

Suddenly, there was the sound of van tires squealing out side.

"Oh, fuck!" Robin cursed.

"Hurry it up!" Steve said, snapping his fingers.

The sound of Eddie making his way up the stairs heightened their panic.

"Fuck!" Eddie cursed and they jumped. "I forgot my pretzels."

The sound of him leaving caused them to sigh in relief. Steve motioned for her to hurry up. Robin let out a quiet screech when they heard the sounds of his footsteps. She raised her hands when she found the ring, and she rushed to Eddie's little balcony that was just outside his window. Steve followed her.

"No!" She whispered. "There's no room! Hide in the closet!"

"Why don't you hide in the closet?" Steve hissed at her.

"Oh, yeah, a lesbian in a closet? Very funny, Steve," Robin hissed.

"Actually, there's something that I wanted to tell you about me - ," Steve started to say.

"No time," she said and closed the window, catching Steve’s shirt in the process.

He tugged and tugged, but it wouldn't budge. Robin couldn't get the window back open. Meanwhile, Eddie's footsteps were getting closer.

"Robin!"

"Just slip out of your shirt, close the curtains, and hide in the closet!" Robin

Steve cursed at her, slipped out of his shirt, and closed the curtains. Meanwhile, Robin was balanced on this very small balcony. Did they really have to give the Munsons a two story house? She could hear the sound of Eddie coming into the bedroom, struggling to carry what sounds like several bags of pretzels. She rolled her eyes when she heard him toss them on his bed.

"Now, to work on my campaign," Eddie said and cackled until a loud sneeze came from his closet. "Okay. . .but wait, now I have to kick the shit out of whoever is hiding in the closet. Bet it's Dustin, always trying to sneak a peak at my notes - Oh helloooo, big boy. You know, my birthday isn't for another couple of weeks."

"I know, I got excited. I wanted to give you your gift early," Steve said.

"Well, happy birthday to me. Correct me if I'm wrong, but is my birthday gift you?" Eddie asked.

Robin's eyes widened. No fucking way.

". . .yes."

Oh, holy shit. That's what Steve had been trying to tell her, and she. . . She practically shoved him into a fucking closet. Jesus. Suddenly, she heard the sound of loud moaning. Oh, they were kissing. Oh, she hoped they were kissing. Shit, she was going to have to listen to this, wasn't she? She was going to have to listen as her best friend lost his guy virginity. The sound of the pretzels being pushed off the bed made her wince. She was screwed, just like Steve was about to be.

"Wait, Eddie," Steve said. "You should know that you're the first guy that I've been with ever. Until I met you, I didn't even know I could like guys. I thought it was one or the other. I never thought it could be both."

Oh, Steve. Robin held a hand to her mouth, struggling not to say anything.

"Baby, I promise to be as gentle with you as you want me to be," Eddie said.

"The thing is that I think I got so excited about being with you that I think I forgot to be nervous. Now, I'm nervous and worried that I'm going to screw things up. In the past, I kind of rushed it in this department, and I just . . . ," Steve said.

"Want to take things slow?" Eddie asked in amusement. "Of course, I'll take anything that you can give me. You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I love you, silly," Eddie said.

"I love you too, Eddie," Steve said, and she could tell her friend's voice was thick with emotion.

Tears filled her eyes. Fuck. She loved Eddie even more now.

"You just have to have to answer me one thing," Eddie said. "Why is your shirt hanging in the window? You didn't close the curtains all the way."

"Uh, I got nervous and panicked, then my shirt got stuck," Steve replied.

"Oh, yeah, that window is tricky. I have been meaning to fix it," Eddie said. "Let me get that."

"Wait!"

Robin froze, eyes wide as she heard Eddie come close to the window. A moment later, the window was opened, and Steve’s shirt was free.

'Tada!" Eddie exclaimed and then popped his head out the window. "Oh, hey, Robin."

He pulled his head back in again. There was a pause, and then Eddie's head was out the window once more. He stared at her, blinking.

"Coo! Coo!" Robin panicked.

405 notes · View notes

tahliafox · 2 years

Note

i saw your requests are open and im begging for a natasha romanoff x reader scissoring fic.. i've never seen anyone write this with her before and im obsessed with scissoring

That stupid dress

Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Summary: Based on request (tysm, scissoring makes me drool)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Older!Natasha, Smut, Mommy!Natasha, slightly innocent!reader.

Words: 1344

Her hands were all over you as soon as the front door slammed. Natasha twisted you in her arms and started kissing and nipping at your lips, desperately. Taken by surprise, you whined against her mouth and started kissing her back with as much desperation. Her tongue swiped harshly against the roof of your mouth, and she moaned at the taste of you.

Her hands moved to your waist and she gripped you, hard. Out of breath, she pulled back and sucked in a sharp breath. “You don’t…” her lips pressed their way down your neck, interrupting her own sentence. It was as if Natasha couldn’t get her thoughts together as her mouth opened, her forehead pressed against the crook of your neck and she almost sobbed in need. “Fuck, this fucking dress.” Her hands tugged at the red material and pulled it away from your body, for it to then snap back against your skin. You flinched, pressed your head back against the door and moaned loudly.

A very obvious aching wetness pooled in your thin underwear, soaking through the bottom slightly, you were certain hers looked the exact same… maybe worse based on how she was acting. Natasha ran her left hand in between your legs, making her hand slightly moist with your arousal and then placed her right hand around your neck, choking you.

“Mommy, wait.” You needed to breathe and find some piece of mind as the way Natasha had pinned you against the door and started groping you so quickly made your mind numb with want. Natasha intensely looked into your eyes, her eyebrows furrowed and she whined when you called her by that title. You pressed your hands against her shoulders and gently pushed her away from you, creating some space. Natasha’s strong hands immediately started reaching for you the moment she lost contact with your body but you held her wrists away.

“No, no, no.” Natasha whined and dropped to her knees, pushing her forehead against your thighs. You let go of her wrists and her hands immediately went to grip at your lower leg. Your eyes widened at how desperate she actually was. “Baby, please. Let mommy touch you. I need to love you. You just- fuck. That stupid dress. Mommy couldn’t stop thinking about ripping it off you all night.” Words kept spewing out of her mouth and she nuzzled against the inside of your leg.

“Please, little angel. Let mommy worship you.” Natasha looked up at you with glazed over eyes and her thumbs kept rubbing back and forth on your calves, soothing you. Your hand went to brush her hair away from her flushed face and she melted into your touch. “Come on, princess. Let me love you. Mommy is so desperate and needy for her sweet girl. You’re always so good for me, let mommy be good for you for a change. I’ll do whatever you need, baby. Anything for my best girl.”

You managed to form a coherent thought and pulled her up to standing by her face. Your hands stayed on the side of her cheeks and she bent forwards to press her forehead against yours. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was heavy and quick, she wrapped her arms around your waist, hugging you and you pressed an innocent kiss against her nose and nodded.

“Be gentle.” You reminded her in a meek voice. Natasha opened her eyes and looked deeply into yours.

“Yeah? You want mommy to be nice and kind to you? What else?” She questioned, her voice raspy and cracking in between words.

“Want to sit on mommy's lap and kiss her, in the bedroom.” You carried on. Natashas hands went to your thighs and she picked you up, jogging up the stairs of your shared house.

“Fuck- Please carry on talking to me, baby.”

“Can we, uhm.” Your voice went shy, you giggled and hid your face in her hair. Natasha squeezed your thighs and smiled at the sound of your laugh.

“Can we do what, angel? Come on, tell mommy. I'll do anything for you. I promise, anything. Tell mommy, quickly.” She kept walking towards your bedroom and then sat on your bed with you straddling her, her back against the headboard. Natasha coaxed your head away from her hair and rubbed her thumbs over your warm cheeks. You smiled at her and blushed harder when she started pressing kisses all over your face, not being able to keep her lips off of you. Her hands gripped the bottom of your dress and she hauled it over your head, leaving you in pretty lingerie.

“Oh- fuck, fuck, fuck.” Natasha whined and whimpered when she saw what you had on underneath your dress. Her hands immediately went to rub at your tits. When you moaned, let your head fall back and she rested her forehead against your chin and panted for air. “Please, little angel. Tell me, tell your mommy what you want. Oh shit, I need you so, so badly.”

“Want to rub against you.” It was almost too quiet, but she managed to work the sentence out and a sharp pain of arousal hit her.

“You want to rub against me? On my thigh… my stomach? You’ve got to be more specific, baby.”

“No.” you got frustrated. “I want to rub against you. Like on your, you know- parts.” Natasha came to a quick realization that you wanted to scissor her. “Fuck, sweetheart. Of course we can do that. Oh, mommy wants to scissor you so badly. Gonna make you feel so good.”

Her hands went to the back of your bra and she started kissing you with fervor, her tongue all over the inside of your mouth. When it slipped off your arms, she threw it somewhere in the bedroom and pushed you on your back. “Can mommy be on top? I love seeing my little girl so pretty underneath me. Such an innocent, lovely little angel. Mommy’s little angel, aren’t you? Please, baby. Please let mommy be on top. I promise to rub myself so good on your cunt.”

You nodded and she whipped your underwear off, then her own clothes. Her tits pressed firmly against you and she slowly pressed her cunt on yours. Both your and her mouths dropped open in pleasure, her arousal smearing all over your swollen clit. Natasha found your hands against the sheets and intertwined her fingers with yours, holding you closely.

“M’gonna start moving, baby. Fuck- gonna feel so good.” She moaned then immediately started grinding up and down over you. Her clit knocked against yours, every movement. Moans started to spew out your mouth and Natasha ducked her head to breath against your neck, smelling your sweet cherry perfume.

“Oh- yes. That's it, baby. You’re such a good girl letting mommy rub herself all over you like this. You're gonna smell so much of me.” her teeth nipped at your neck, marking you. “My girl. My sweet little angel. Fuck- i love you so much, sweety. So proud of you for lying still for me and taking this so well.”

Your stomach started growing tight and your eyebrows furrowed. “Mommy-” you interrupted her. She looked up at you, immediately giving you all her attention. “Gonna cum. Getting so close. Please don't stop.”

“Mommy is never going to stop. Ever. oh im gooing to cum too, feels so fucking good.” She grit her teeth and started humping you faster. “Yes, yes, yes, yes.” She chanted out like a prayer.

Your orgasm hit you like a brick and Natasha felt something wet splash against her cunt. She suddenly realized she made you squirt, then fell head first into her own orgasm at the thought. Your name left her lips in a scream. Natasha could no longer hold herself up, completely pressed against you and pathetically humping her hips onto you.

“Oh- fuck, fuck. Mommy is so proud of you for squirting like that. Jesus, fucking Christ. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.”

note: holy fuck, got a bit carried away. think this is my favorite fic.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x y/n #older!nat #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #mommy natasha #mommy!nat #tahliesfics

4K notes · View notes

chelscait · 8 months

Text

not on the same wavelength. | Ona Batlle.

category: ANGST. proper.

summary: one jealous and the other uncommunicative.

word count: 1.9k. these keep getting shorter.

a/n: this was meant to be longer but couldn’t figure out how to carry it on. part 2 may be persuaded.

You were entirely envious of your girlfriend when she got the offer to go back to Barcelona, your home town.

She had been reluctant to tell you in fear of how you'd react, guilty of the fact that she chose her career over you and your feelings.

When you were dropped from the B team and moved to England, you knew you had no real chance to move back there again. The board basically told you you weren't good enough, and they do and will never need you.

You had ranted and cried all day after that meeting to Ona, and that's when she offered for you both to move as far away as possible.

The words made you freeze; you hadn't a clue about how football was run outside of Spain and didn't know a word of any other language. Her idea made you scoff.

"Don't be silly, Ona. That won't work." You shook your head as you continued your pacing, rubbing a hand down your face in the meantime.

"How do you know? It might be good to get a fresh start, you know? Just us two." Ona shrugged as she fiddled with one of your pillows she held in her lap; it was obvious she was struggling too.

"What? You're willing to actually give up on Barcelona.. for me?" Your voice cracked in acknowledgement, coming to a still before you looked at her, playing with the necklace you were wearing, which sported her initials.

"Amor, I'd give up everything for you, and I'd do anything for you. Think about it."

"I don't need to; let's do it. Fuck Barca." You agreed as you climbed onto the bed next to her, enthusiastically pulling her down to lay on top of you, squeezing her as tight as possible.

"You don't mean that." She mumbled into your chest as you practically suffocated her with your embrace, giggling softly when her baby hairs tickled your skin.

"No, I don't.. but fuck the directors."

You spent the rest of that evening researching other clubs and their logistics, as well as shouting out each club name until you found one that was at least suitable whilst still being Barcelona fans.

You had both called your agents the next day, asking for offers from any clubs and telling them you were ready and wanting to leave Levante and Barcelona behind- a fresh start.

When one of the clubs you both agreed to consider popped up in one of the options asking for both of you, you didn't hesitate and signed for the summer transfer of 2020 to Man United.

It was perfect for the both of you- a relatively newly founded club with an ambition to score high- and that was just what you both wanted and needed.

To say you were the star signings was an understatement; you both practically carried the team.

You loved it in England a lot, and you always expressed your feelings around your opinion, but Ona never agreed. Although she did love it there, it wasn't Barca, and it wasn't home.

She was homesick, incredibly, and it made you feel like shit, and it never left.

You both had made good friendships within the team and formed a tight-knit group, which benefited the club's style of play; however, you could see Ona struggle, whereas you did not have that difficulty.

She had never been that outgoing, not like you.

There were many times where Ona was left alone, having difficulties being herself without you there, and she'd watch you do what she so desperately wanted to do but couldn't.

You tried hard to get her to join in, and the halfhearted letdown always made your heart drop. That was one thing you didn't want to happen. To become distant.

For you, it felt like Ona was further away from you than she would have been if she stayed in Barcelona, and it killed you.

You didn't know what to do at all, but she promised that this is what she wanted, and it made you feel bitter that she's making you feel that you are the one that's put her in this predicament; it wasn't.

You woke up many nights in an empty bed. Ona was somewhere in the apartment by herself, and you knew she wouldn't dare leave the space of her own home, if it even was.

You traced her side of the bed through the crinkles of the cold bedsheets before you forcefully closed your eyes and turned over, a single tear slipping past your barrier.

Neither of you fell asleep that night. Ona had crept back to bed, but you could hear she was wide awake, just like you, yet she didn't move or make a noise. She let you both drown in the unknown silence and wait for further communication.

Having kept yourself away from her, you didn't realise or know her state. How much she was bottling her feelings and emotions up, her struggle however made you struggle, and the air kept inside your bottle felt like it would explode any minute.

Grabbing your phone was an indication to Ona that you were conscious that morning. She was lying on her side of the bed, looking up at the ceiling with her knees bent upward, pulling some of the cover off of you as she stared at your side profile.

You didn't say your usual good morning and give her your first kiss of the day; she didn't realise that you knew and that she was hurting you, so she moved to snuggle up to you.

You kept your focus on your phone, though, trying too hard to conceal your emotions. The aura that was irradiating from you left Ona with the battle of actually looking at you or not, and your body stiffened as she snuck her arm around your stomach, making her stick with the latter.

"Are you okay?" She mumbled into your side, playing with the hem of your t-shirt to distract her from what was to come.

"Fine. You?" You curtly answered before sniffling, taking one of your hands off your phone to trace Onas side with your finger tips.

Your slight touch welled tears in Ona's eyes; she didn't want to feel the way she did yet she did, and her feelings will most definitely hurt yours, not knowing whether she'd get another intimate moment again if it all blows up.

She tried to keep the flow at bay, but she struggled, drops falling one by one onto your t-shirt before she sniffled, grabbing your attention.

"Ona.. What is it that you're not telling me? I can see you, all of you. You're not very good at hiding it." You frowned, placing your phone back on your bedside table before playing with her hair gently, caressing her head as she stayed curled up into you.

You could feel her trying to say something; her hard breathing was delaying.

"Lo siento. Lo siento mucho amor. I'm just... it's so hard." She cried and buried herself deeper into you, yourself responding by gently pulling her up closer towards you so her face could be buried in your neck.

"I know, but we're together, right? That's all that matters as of now."

She didn't respond, continuing to sob into your neck, and your hand hesitated its journey down her back before your eyes started to tear up.

"Right?" Your voice cracked as you didn't get your answer, your mind whirling in all different directions.

"I want to go home. I want to go home, Y/N. I can't take this anymore." She sobbed as she sat up, messily brushing all of her wet strands of hair away from her face.

Your heart dropped at her words, the guilt seizing you. You didn't know what to say, and you removed your gaze from hers before fiddling with your hands.

"This is football, Ona. You can't pick and choose; it's brutal, I know, but sometimes.. you have to make sacrifices to get what you want, even if it's hard. Barcelona is not on the agenda right now, and we're not on theirs; they may never need us. You have to understand that, Ona." You tried to convince.

You knew what you were saying were lies, as there were rumours that Barcelona wanted the both of you back for a while now, but you wanted Ona to stay with you, and you didn't want to go or let go.

"It's not just the club and football, though; I miss my life, my family, and my physical home. I miss home." She suffocated in her own tears, looking up at the ceiling to try and lessen the current trailing down her cheeks.

"What about me? Am I not your home? Your life? Like you have told me multiple times before."

"You are, but just a part of it, and I'm sorry.. but it's not enough. I am not satisfied with Manchester; I'm not satisfied like this."

"And you’re not satisfied with our relationship, got it." You whispered with a curt nod, pushing yourself to sit up a bit more and chuck the covers off of you.

"Y/N.."

"You know what, Ona? This was your idea, your fucking idea to do this, and your pinning all of your... whatever! on me." You began shouting after you got up from your bed, shaking your head at Ona's selfishness.

"I'm not.."

"You may not think it, but you are. I have felt like absolute dog shit the whole time we've been here. Especially these last few weeks, and I don't know what to say to you, Ona. I don't know. You're killing me."

"I didn't realise; I'm sorry." She mumbled as she shuffled closer to the edge of the bed, in reach of you. You allowed her to grab your hand before she rested her head on your stomach. Though you made no effort to comfort.

"Ona, I just don't know what to do. I love you. I love you so much, but I don't think I'm good enough to return, mentally and physically." You laid a dead hand on the top of her head as she wrapped her arms around you, awkwardly pulling you in tighter.

"It's okay, but you have to know.. I want to go home, and I want to do this in a way where we'll be okay.."

"Ona, it's not you thinking of leaving that is upsetting me.. I'm not stopping you. It's the fact that you have continuously lied to me this whole time about how you felt. It has almost felt like you haven't trusted me, and you don't trust me. It has really hurt me how I have known what you were feeling without you actually telling me."

"I feel like I'm losing you.." She whispered loud enough for you to hear, a fresh batch of tears finding home to soak in your t-shirt.

"You're not losing me; you'll never lose me. I'm losing you." Your voice cracked before you sniffled, hands trailing to Onas cheeks to pull her face away from you. You looked down at her as she sheepishly looked up while leaning into your touch before you bent down to place your forehead against hers.

"No.."

"I think the best thing we need right now is space. I'm going to go stay with Lucia for a bit; you can stay here." You pulled away, your hands reluctantly falling from her face.

"No, Y/N.. please, this will make it worse." Ona grew panicked as she let out a sob, her hands flailing to find your own again and bring them back to her.

"Please Ona. Just let me go. I'm sorry."

#ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso fanfics #woso oneshots #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso #wwc 2023 #espwnt x reader #barcelona femeni x reader

532 notes · View notes

iamthecomet · 4 months

Note

mounty/rora size difff!!!!! im insane!!!!

like imagine they’re in the kitchen and roras tryna grab somethin high up and mount comes up behind and just. engulfs her. idk if i were her i would lose it.

also dom mountain? maybe? calling her his “little princess” and making her take him all at once?

(maybe some really light cnc like hes “making” her take it no matter what she wants)

idk i love them

I got SO carried away with this. I am NOT SORRY. 2.3k words of MountRora under the cut. Despite the CNC mention in the ask everything in the ficlet is enthusiastically consented to on screen. Though, Mountain does have a few thoughts (before anything actually happens) that could make things seem dubious. So keep that in mind before you read. I absolutely took some inspiration for their normal dynamic from this post by @miasmaghoul because her brain is gigantic.

The new ghoulette makes Mountain feel like he’s losing his mind. He hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off of her since they were introduced. Her miniscule frame tucked under one of Copia’s arms as he gave her and Aeon a tour of the ghoul wing.

He knows her better now. Enough that when he lays in bed at night with one hand on his cock and her on his mind he doesn’t feel quite as bad as he did that first night. Face down on his pillows, knuckles wedged between his teeth so that when he came in hot spurts he didn’t accidentally whimper the name of the freshly summoned ghoulette in the next room.

Now, a few months in, the thoughts are no less impure but he knows they’re welcome. Knows she thinks the same things. Finds her at his door in the middle of the night, barely clothed and already soaked for him. Slipping into his lap with ease and grinding against him until she cums–until he does too. Splattering cum over his stomach as she works him through it with her tongue in his mouth.

It’s not enough.

Mountain watches her from the couch as she stretches up onto her toes and tries to reach something on the very top shelf of the game cabinet. Spine stretching, fingers waggling as she tries to reach. Almost hopping on her toes in a futile attempt to bump whatever game she’s hoping for close enough to grab.

Mountain delights in watching her. In looking at the little sliver of skin that shows as her shirt rides up. On the way her ass looks in her leggings. Eyes tracing the dip in her waist, knowing he can touch his fingers around it when he holds her.

He’ll get up and help her–of course he will. Though, she’ll never ask. Determined to do it herself. But he’s going to let her struggle for another minute and enjoy the view.

He pushes himself off the couch when she starts to show signs of planning to climb the cabinet. He presses right up against her. Ducks his head to press his chin to the crown of her head, right between brutally sharp opalescent horns.

“Which one?” he rumbles. Curling one arm around her waist, palm flat against her belly. That warm strip of skin under his calloused palm. She growls, high and playful. And he pulls her tighter, presses her body right up against his until he knows she can feel how hard he’s gotten pressed right against her spine.

“Monopoly,” she says, pressing back against him. Standing on her toes in an attempt to grind her ass back against him. “Why do you put it so high?” “Big boxes go on the top shelf.”

“Nothing should go on the top shelf.” She huffs as he pulls it down and presses it into her waiting hands.

“Who are you playing with?”

“Aeon and Swiss, do you want to come too?”

Mountain shakes his head. He digs his fingers into her stomach just a little and then releases her. She turns in his grip, box held between them. “I don’t like monopoly. Too competitive. And Swiss always cheats.”

She frowns. “He promised he wouldn’t–”

“He’s a liar.” He kisses her between the horns. “Will you come see me after?”

She looks up at him. Violet blush darkening her cheeks and the tips of her ears. She smiles, slow and easy as she nods. “As soon as we’re done.”

“That a promise?” Mountain teases.

She licks her lips, nods again, short and curt this time. “Yes, sir.”

His cock kicks in his pants, drools pre into the dark gray fabric. Aurora grins at him, and then slips away, out of the door. Mountain sags back into the couch. He palms at himself–not enough to really get anywhere. Just a little pressure, a little relief as he thinks about her. About what he wants to do–no–what he’s going to do to her. She wants it too--he knows it.

The grinding is all well and good, but he wants to be inside. Wants to press deep and feel the way her body changes as he fucks into her. To reach places no one else ever has or ever will again. He closes his eyes, tips his head back against the back of the couch and tries not to blow it just over the thought of her.

⛧ Mountain keeps himself as busy as he can stand. Takes a trip to the greenhouse and tries to think about deadheading flowers instead of pinning Aurora down on his bed and fucking her senseless.

He works on dinner, and somehow doesn’t burn anything despite doing the entire thing on auto pilot–much to Dew’s disappointment.

The fire ghoul kicks him out mid-way through with a frustrated grimace.

“I’m trying to help, Dew,” Mountain says in protest as Dew bullies him from the kitchen.

“Then help, by being literally anywhere else. I can smell how hard you are. Go jerk off or something.”

Mountain retreats to his room. There’s a knock on the door three minutes later–not that he was counting.

Aurora doesn’t wait to be let in, she’s pushing past him as soon as he opens the door. Shucking her shirt off and throwing it to the side before Mountain has even locked them in. And then she’s on him. Coming up on her toes as he bends to meet her. Lips sealing together as her clever fingers slid under his t-shirt and up to roll already pebbled nipples between deft fingers. He growls, hauls her close. Nearly off her feet in his attempt to pull her into his skin with him. Tongue delving deep into her mouth–less about pleasure and more about claiming.

“Who won?” he asks as he pulls away long enough to pull of his shirt. She wiggles out of her leggings and underwear in one go and Mountain feels the last of his coherent brain cells die when she bends over to pull them off of her ankles. Exposing her soft pink cunt to his hungry gaze. She’s wet already, folds glistening as she shifts from one foot to the other.

“Swiss,” Aurora says as she finally untangles herself. “He cheated.”

“Told you.”

Aurora is right up on him again, his back against the door. Her hand slipping down his pants to curl her fingers around his cock. He shoves at his waistband. Desperate to get them off so he can see. So he can watch the way her fingers don’t meet when she holds him. She stands on her toes and nips at his jaw. Stroking from root to tip as he finally frees himself. Fire licking up his spine as she tightens her grip to milk a pearl of pre from the tip.

“‘Rora,” Mountain whispers, pressing his forehead to the top of her head, both of them looking down. Watching the way she strokes him. The head flushed and shiny. Her fingers looking so small–so impossibly dainty around him. “Wanna try something.”

“Hmm?”

“Let me fuck you.” Not a question. A demand. A need. No room for argument in it. Aurora pulls her head back so they can really see each other, she tips her head, lip pinned by a razor sharp fang.

“It’s too big. Won’t fit.”

Mountain steps closer, she goes back. Doesn’t let go of him, doesn’t stop dragging her thumb over that spot under the head that makes him twitch. He crowds her back until she’s forced to sit on his bed. Forced to crane her neck to look up at him. He reaches down, strokes her hair out of her face, tucks one strand behind her ear.

“I’ll make it fit.”

He watches her throat work as she swallows. Watches the way her pupils go just that much wider. She’s moon-eyed and slack jawed as she looks up at him. Thighs clamped together, shifting just ever so slightly in search of friction.

She nods. Eyes never leaving his. Cheeks dark, breath shallow. When he pushes her back to lay on the bed, she falls like a rag doll. Easy. Chest heaving as he climbs above her. Mouthing at her jaw, and lower. Over sharp collarbones, and rosey nipples. Pressing the flat of his tongue to each bud as he sucks them into his mouth. Assualting them with just enough teeth to make her gasp and arch up into him.

He leaves a trail of open mouth kisses down her stomach, over her hip bones, down to her cunt. Pressing his lips over her clit. He drags his tongue through her folds. Gathering slick. Letting the taste of her white out every other thought.

He presses one finger inside of her as he pulls back. Watching as her eyes flutter closed, one hand toying with one of her nipples, the other sunk deep into the mess of her own hair. She whines, hips rolling down to meet his hand as he presses as deep as he can. “Gonna make you take it,” Mountain says, bending down to suck her clit into his mouth as he gives her another finger.

She nods dumbly, tucking her chin into her chest to watch him. Their eyes meeting over the soft plain of her body. “Yeah. Yeah. Make me take it. Ruin me.”

His cock kicks and spits against the comforter as he fingers her. Adding a third. Unable to think about anything else except the musk of her on his tongue and the way these velvet walls will feel clamped around his cock. How it will feel when she cums on it.

Mountain doesn’t have the patience to wait anymore. Not with the way she’s fluttering around his fingers. Not with how her clit pulses against his tongue.

He slips his fingers from her body, and allows himself a moment to admire her as he pulls away. To watch as she clenches around nothing. To see the way she drips onto the bed.

He shuffles forward, tucks her legs around his hips. He drags the blunt head of his cock over her swollen clit and revels in the way she mewls beneath him. Hands twisting in the sheets, hips twitching closer. “Look at you,” he says. Dragging his cock through her folds, watches the way she opens for him. He lines himself up, just barely touching her. It would take nothing to split her open on it. He should go slow–should take his time.

“C’mon,” she insists. “Put it in. Stop teasing and–”

Mountain surges forward. He bottoms out in one thrust. His hips flush with hers. She wails. Eyes rolling up in her head, body clamping down hard on him. Her heel digs into his ass, just above his tail. He grabs her as she arches, both big hands on her waist, thumbs almost touching just under her belly button.

The next thrust makes her tear up. Wetness clinging to delicate lashes as she clamps her eyes closed and keens. Mountain gives up on slow and steady almost immediately. Leaning forward to bend her in half and pound in. Over and over again. Each slick slide a new revelation. Each noise she makes dragging him closer and closer to the end. He sets his thumb to her clit. She opens her mouth and nothing comes out, just a ragged pleasured breath as she takes every inch he gives her.

She cums with a cry. Clamping down so hard on him he’s almost forced out. Eyes rolling back, body going taught as her toes curl against his back and she pulses around him. He fucks her through it, keeps his thumb rolling over her clit until she bats his hand away.

“So fucking tight, Rora. fucking perfect. All mine.” Moutain’s babbling now. White hot pleasure coiling deep in his gut. She’s boneless beneath him. Fucked dumb and breathless. She reaches up to press her hand over his heart, to drag her thumb over a nipple. Each thrust forcing the breath from her, along with little startled noises as he goes just a little harder, a little deeper.

“Gonna–fuck–can I? Let me cum inside?”

Aurora nods, lips parted, drool gathering at the corners. “Yeah. Yeah. Do it. Make it sloppy.”

Mountain gets one more thrust in, shoving in as deep as he can before he starts to shoot, vision whiting as the hot clutch of her drags him under.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank youthankyou.”

She reaches up, tangling fingers in the sweat damp hair at the base of his neck and pulling him down to kiss him. Fangs nipping as his lip as she does.

A sharp knock at the door pulls Mountain away from her with a start.

“You’d better be done fucking now,” Dew’s voice carries through the door. “Dinner’s getting cold.”

“Coming!” Aurora calls.

“Yeah,” Dew mutters just loud enough for them to hear, sarcasm biting through his words. “I bet you are.”

Mountain pulls out of Aurora with a hiss. He wants a few more minutes. Time to admire the way his cum drools out of her. Time to bury his face back between her legs and clean her up–to lick his mess out of her until she’s crying and shaking beneath him.

Instead, he stands up and starts to get dressed. Heart still hammering in his chest, nerves still alight with pleasure. Aurora stretches, arms above her head, body on full display, until something in her spine pops and she sighs, satisfied.

“After dinner, we go again,” she says, pushing herself out of bed to stand on wobbly legs.

“Yeah?” Mountain asks, not daring to allow any real hope to filter into his voice, He doesn’t want her to feel obligated. Doesn’t want her to do too much because she wants to make him happy. He’ll be happy just eating her out. Letting her grind. Curling her into his arms and fucking her thighs. She grins, standing on her toes to pull him into a kiss that is more fang than tongue. “I told you to ruin me didn’t I?”

#comet writes #ficlet #mountain ghoul #aurora ghoulette #mountrora #mountain/aurora #aurora/mountain #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #nameless ghoul fanfic

207 notes · View notes

starry-hughes · 9 months

Text

carried away

quinn hughes x tkachuk sister!reader

warnings: hints at smut but not actual smut

summary: after years of knowing one another, quinn and you finally find love at your brother’s wedding

navigation

Quinn Hughes was a figure in your life for years. You practically grew up with him. He was teammates with your brother, Brady, who was only a year older than you. Both of your brothers were amazing hockey players and Quinn was as well. You didn’t get to attend school with Brady or Quinn, Brady had moved away to go play with the NTDP team. Matthew had done the same.

With two older brothers in the NHL and being the daughter of a former NHL player, it was easy to say that you had enough hockey boys in your life. But every summer, you find yourself surrounded by them. Your summers were spent at the lake house owned by the Hughes family. Your parents always visited after the school year ended, you and your sister in tow. Sometimes, Taryn opted out due to her having her own plans and friends for the summer.

That’s when you met Quinn. Both of you probably wanted to ignore what awkward and cringey look you two sported at the time. Quinn never looked at you as more than Brady’s younger sister.

As time went along and you grew up, Quinn would see photos of you on social media, maybe you’d be at a game once in a while or at dinner afterwards. But every photo he saw of you, you just got more beautiful. And every dinner he sat across the table from you, he couldn’t help but look at you as you laughed at something one of your brothers said or did.

There was one time, last year, December 2022, after Brady and Emma had been engaged, when you had gone to see Matthew play against Vancouver. You didn’t know what came over you, but you had texted Quinn. Quinn was not used to random texts from you. It was mainly birthday texts or random pictures that popped up in a Snapchat memory.

“I’m in Vancouver for the game, dinner tonight?”

Before responding to your text, Quinn thought about it. He was never one to have an attraction to a friend’s sister. But he had to admit that you were beautiful. You were no longer just Brady’s younger sister. You were just you.

He agreed to dinner and after the game, which ended in a loss, he asked if Matthew was joining. “He declined to join,” you informed Quinn. Matthew was busy celebrating the win against the Canucks. Plus, you were practically traveling with the team for the week, you had seen enough of Matthew.

It was an awkward dinner at first and then it came to a normal conversation, chatting about how things had been and how you were doing. The conversation fell to the wedding. “I think Emma is going to ask Taryn and I to be in the wedding at Christmas,” you took a swig of your glass of wine.

“Brady already asked me to be in it,” Quinn almost bragged. “Well at least we can be hopeful to be paired up to walk down the aisle. At least I know you won’t let me trip.”

Quinn didn’t really hear from you again until the week of the wedding. Your parents were high strung, trying to make sure Brady had the perfect wedding. Matthew and you had been passing a bottle of vodka between the two of you all night when Quinn arrived with his family.

“Matthew, (Y/N), always lovely to see you!” Ellen and Jim Hughes greeted. “How drunk are you?” Quinn leaned over and asked. “I had to deal with the wedding stress somehow,” you laughed.

“And you aren’t even the bride,” Quinn teased.

“Not this time,” you mumbled.

The next coming days were a blur. At the rehearsal dinner, you were paired with Quinn. “Make sure my sister doesn’t fall Hughes!” Matthew warned, slightly overprotective as Quinn held out his arm for you. You couldn’t help but stifle your laughter as Quinn tensed up for a second but relaxed when you leaned over to whisper to him.

“Don’t pay attention to him, he won’t do anything unless he catches us kissing or something.”

At the rehearsal dinner, Taryn got to make her speech. Brady had asked Matthew and you to do one tomorrow at the actual wedding. Throughout the whole rehearsal dinner, all you could do was stare at Quinn. Maybe it was the wine.

The next day was the actual wedding and you didn’t see much of Quinn. The girls were talking in the bridal party area as everyone got their hair done. “What about you (Y/N)? Anyone special in your life?” Emma’s cousin asked.

Your face felt hot. “No, not really.”

Quinn almost froze when he saw you for the first time right before the wedding started. “You look, uh, beautiful,” he stuttered out. “Thanks Quinn, you clean up nice too.” You adjusted his boutonniere to be straighter.

After the ceremony, you were dragged over to the open bar by Josh Norris. He was talking to you about needing to get breakfast with you tomorrow, saying he missed you. You didn’t allow yourself to get too drunk until after your speech.

After your speech, your face was warm and red. The open bar at the wedding was being used to your advantage. Your wine glass never seemed to become empty. You were tired of talking to your parents or family members. Brady was too enamored by Emma to come to talk to you, you couldn’t blame him though. It was his wedding and your non sister-in-law looked beautiful. You ended up at Table 8, visiting with the boys. “Wanna go on a walk Quinn? I need fresh air.” you asked lowly.

Quinn walked you outside, his arm looped in yours. You had been drinking wine most of the night. Maybe it was the alcohol talking or maybe it was feelings that had never come to light after years of knowing one another.

The two of you paused, looking out at the night sky where the ceremony had been held. Quinn looked over at you as you spoke softly about the day. His eyes flickered down to your lips. “Quinn, you okay?” you whispered. You wanted him to kiss you badly.

“We should go back before I do something Brady kills me for,” Quinn whispered, lips hovering above yours.

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him,” you spoke softly.

A knock on Quinn’s door woke him up. Most of the family and wedding party were all staying in the same hotel. Quinn scrambled out of bed, glad that he at least had boxers on. He was barely awake when he cracked open the door.

Matthew stood there. “Sorry to wake you, have you seen (Y/N)? Brady and Emma leave in an hour and my parents want some send off from us.”

“I haven’t seen her since last night, sorry,” Quinn said tiredly. “It’s cool, I’ll check with Josh, I think they said something about getting breakfast together last night.”

Quinn shut the door and took a deep breath. You had woken up at the first knock but didn’t make a movement when your older brother was at the door. As soon as you heard the door lock shut, you threw the blankets off of your head.

You wore Quinn’s dress shirt as a nightgown. Your hair was no longer neat and your bridesmaid dress was draped on the back of the chair in the room. Your shoes were kicked off in minutes last night but you were nervous about getting the dress ruined so Quinn had stopped his actions last night to drape the dress on the back of the chair instead of crumbled on the ground, before returning to you in bed.

“Do you think he knew I was in here?”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #nhl imagine #vancouver canucks imagine #canucks imagine #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction

623 notes · View notes

kissitbttr · 5 months

Text

can’t stop thinking about simon falling for harley quinn reader typa beat

it’s a slow burn for sure, definitely not love at first right because he hates her guts the first time price introduced her during debrief session. she's fucking deranged. has murdered countless of innocent people before and not to mention shoplifting?? like why would price think it'd be a good idea to have her as a temporary addition to tf141? this woman is a criminal. he hates how cheery and giddy she is, always waving her hand to greet the team, acting like she hadn’t done some very questionable things, dropping offhanded comments that makes him choke in his own spit, parading herself in short black and red outfits that barely covers her ass and chest EVEN during the mission. it annoys him to the fucking bone.

but then as time slowly goes by, he begins to warm up to her existence. he’s starting to care about her well-being, putting a mental note on what she likes and dislikes, stealing glances at her way to see if she’s comfortable ever so often. he notices how she carries a red lipstick wherever she goes. black if she’s not feeling herself. his lips often twitches into a small smile whenever she does something cute to him and always always making sure she's okay during every single mission. ‘you okay, love?’ or ‘tell me if something’s bothering you, yeah?’ is what he always says. sometimes when the team has to split up, he’d be the first one to say ‘she’s with me’ and it makes her heart warms.

he's amazed at how well she handles rifles, all while looking and acting pretty. (he finds her adorable overtime too but he'd die before admitting that to her). when he lent her his signature AAC Honey Badger, he was impressed by how smoothly she used it, but nothing beats the way she kills enemies with her pink oversized mallet.

‘i can kill them in five, boys ! just give me a sec’ is what she says in a cheerful tone with a giggle after price had notified that there’s too much guards for them to handle. before price could even protest, she already loaded up her gun and walk towards where the guards are. it was something ghost had never found so attractive before but the way she said it? the confidence? her strutting like she owns the shit? considered him rock hard at that point.

before she goes, she tells the boys to wait while she does her thing. but not before sending a wink to ghost’s direction. she has a spot for him, she makes sure he knows that.

the team watch her gracefully killing the enemies through the cameras. small splash of blood painted her face as she smiles up at the camera to give the boys a small wave. she then jumps to one of the guard and put them in a headlock, suffocating him with her thighs to crack his neck in one swift motion (oh he’d do anything to let her do that to him)

‘fucking hell… look at this lass go’ soap tsked, others agreed. especially simon. this is the first time he had found a woman looking incredibly sexy and sophisticated while blowing someone's head off. it’s almost impossible a woman like her actually exists.

so the moment he hears her being held captured by the enemies, his blood runs cold. ghost. goes fucking. BALLISTIC. like 100% feral, no one could stop this man from tearing down the whole fucking sky to save her. so he makes up a plan to save her with the team. from there, add this scene while we're on it. safe to say she was truly moved by it.

‘oh… you were actually going to save me?’ she asks giving him her puppy dog eyes,

he grumbled while nodding sheepishly, his grip around the rifle tighten. ‘yeah.. and it was a pretty damn good plan too’

‘i’m sorry... well, i can go back in again if you still want to do it..’ her voice coming out soft and tender,

he smiles softly underneath the mask. even with dried up blood decorating her nose and the corner of her lips, he still finds her beautiful,

mentally ill but beautiful.

‘no—no that’s okay. ‘m just glad you’re safe, sweetheart’

he finds being with her is easy. just as easy as breathing. his once cold heart now softened because of her. and it is reserved only for her

i’m a firm believer that ghost is into batshit crazy women he can’t fix

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader

275 notes · View notes

wolfjackle-creates · 3 months

Text

Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 1

What's this? Two posts for WIP Wednesday??? I said I was gonna spoil you guys. Now, I originally planned to do Carry Your Heart. Figured the top and bottom choices from the WIP Wednesday poll would be fun. But both stories are at a point where Danny is taking Jason to Frostbite and I just didn't feel like writing the same scenario twice, even if the details and POV are totally different.

So I went to the third place option.

If you want a say in what I work on this week, check out the poll!

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr

Word Count: 1.5k

-----

Jazz tapped her finger on her phone as she waited for the Dunkin employee to call out her order. Red Hood was supposed to arrive any minute. She’d left her dorm a full two hours ago and led Agents K and O on a merry chase through Boston before finally losing them at Quincy Market. Then she’d doubled back and was now near Northeastern. She had no reason to be here, so hopefully it’d take a little longer to track her down.

And that’s when she felt it—a ghost or liminal was nearby.

Pushing his way in the building was a tall man with a red beanie covering dark hair. He had on an unbuttoned flannel jacket over a Dumpty Humpty T-shirt and jeans with a backpack slung over one shoulder. He glanced around before his eyes settled on her and he grinned.

“Hey, Jazz, right?” He held out his hand. “I’m Todd.”

Jazz couldn’t say anything and just stared in horror. Red Hood couldn’t be liminal. Had she just led another liminal to the guys in white? Did he even realize he was considered an ecto-entity under the anti-ecto acts she’d introduced him and Red Robin to?

“Jazz? Are you okay?” he asked, dropping his hand.

“Order for Jazz!” called out the barista.

Jazz shook herself and grabbed her drink with a smile for the employee. Then she grabbed Todd’s elbow and dragged him over to the tables.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting—” she cut herself off. She had no idea what he knew and what he didn’t. And the agents could come get them at any moment. Instead she pulled out her phone started turning off every security setting. “Never mind. Do you want anything?” she asked with a gesture at her own drink.

“I’m all right. But, are you? What happened?”

Jazz let out a laugh; if the way Todd’s eyes widened was any indication, it was a tad more hysterical that she would’ve liked. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened.” She looked down at his shirt. “My brother loves Dumpty Humpty, you a music fan?”

He seemed nonplussed at the topic change but shrugged. “Sure. Music is good, but I stole this shirt from one of my brothers. I don’t know if I could name a single song by them. How about you?”

Jazz grinned and forced herself to relax as she logged out of her school email on her phone. “I’m a huge fan of any sort of self-expression, including music. Actually, my plans for tonight involve music, so I hope you like the indie scene. Might be a bit intense for a first date, but I’ve always figured, why not jump right in? Show ‘em the crazy from the start and see if they can keep up.” She leaned forward over the table and winked at him. “Think you’ll be able to keep up?”

Todd played the game perfectly and looked her up and down like they really were about to start a first date. “With you, sweetheart, I’ll follow anywhere you lead.”

Jazz laughed and stood. “Come on, then. We’re going on an adventure.”

Todd grinned and joined her. “Lead the way.”

Once out of the building, Jazz led them away from the university. This being Boston, it wasn’t long before they came across a homeless man begging on the side of the street.

Wincing internally, she gripped Todd’s arm and said loudly, “Honestly, I don’t know why the cops don’t do a better job of keeping away the beggars.”

Todd looked at her in surprise. “What are you talking about? They have a right to exist and we should help them.”

“They’re probably fine. Everyone knows they only use the money they’re given on drugs and alcohol.” She pretended to glance at her phone before reaching back to shove it in her back pocket. Only to miss so it fell to the ground. “Ew, he’s looking at us. Come on, let’s cross the street.”

She could feel the way Todd tensed at her words, but he let himself be led across the street.

As soon as they were out of hearing shot, he turned to her and hissed, “What the hell was that?”

Jazz glanced back and saw the man picking up her phone. She looked away before he could catch her looking. “Come on, I’ll explain.” She grabbed Todd’s hand and led him down an alley to a much busier street. “I had to ditch my phone. I logged out of everything and left it unlocked so he can use it or resell it. I needed to make sure he wouldn’t try to return it to me and, well, what better way than being the worst person you can imagine?”

And now he was staring, open mouthed.

“They’ve had remote access to my phone for months and I couldn’t let them track us!” she insisted. Habit had her looking around for any sign of a white suit.

“Who can’t find us?”

Jazz shook her head. “The guys in white. Look, this is too public. I can’t say much else here. But meeting you, everything had to change. You’re in danger just by being near me and I refuse to be the reason you get hurt.”

“Why am I in danger?”

“Later!” Jazz hissed before wincing and looking around. She forced a smile back on her face and asked, in as normal a tone as she could manage, “What time is it? Do you know?”

He looked down at his phone. “Uh, looks like it’s almost five.”

“Oh great! Plenty of time for us to get something to eat before I bring you to our surprise destination.”

And from there, Jazz led Todd on a convoluted tour of Boston. They grabbed food at the Pru, then she took him to the green line. Where they traveled four stops before she jumped up in feigned surprise that they were on the wrong branch. So then they got off and hopped on the train going in the opposite direction.

Which was where she wanted to be going all along.

For once, she was happy the orange line was still under construction, because the shuffle of passengers from trains to buses and back just made their journey that much more complicated and harder to follow.

By the time they finally got to their stop, the sun had mostly set. The station was mostly empty and Jazz looked around for any sign of white suits or vans, but even when she didn't see any, she couldn't relax.

“Where are we going?” Todd asked for probably the dozenth time.

Jazz rolled her eyes. “We’ll be there in five minutes and then you’ll find out.”

She led him to the street, the crosswalk had lights over it, but the rest of the road was shrouded in darkness. They ran across without waiting for the walk symbol.

Once they crossed what was basically a divided highway, Jazz led them along the poorly lit and cracked sidewalk. Ahead of them they were approaching a river.

“It’s before the river,” muttered Jazz to herself. “Is this it?” She hesitated at the top of a sloping, unpaved drive that led to an industrial building that sat on the waterfront. “I think so. Apparently this building used to be a coffin factory. Cool, huh?”

“I don’t care for coffins,” was Todd’s terse reply.

Jazz flinched slightly. She knew he was death-adjacent. Should’ve known better than to mention coffins. “Right, sorry. Well, they aren’t made here anymore.” She made her way down the steep drive, Todd a step behind her.

“What is it now?”

“Apartments, I believe.”

Once at the bottom, she looked around and saw the old loading dock. Entering, she looked for the door on the left.

Only to hesitate once more. Two doors were on the left. She hadn’t heard anything about there being two doors. Taking a chance, she opened the first one.

Inside was a table where two women sat in front of a metal box. On the wall were a set of pegs already mostly filled with coats. And inside milled probably thirty or forty people.

The women smiled at Jazz. “Hi, have you two been here before?”

Jazz shook her head and pulled two twenties out of her wallet. “No. But I had a classmate come here and tell me about it. When I realized you had something going on tonight when I had a date? Figured it was a great place to come with my partner!”

She laughed. “We’re definitely unique here at the Night Cap.” She stamped their hands. “Show starts in half an hour, but feel free to mingle until then. Bathroom’s through the kitchen.”

“Thanks! We’re looking forward to tonight.”

Todd nodded his own thanks and followed Jazz into the room.

“What are we doing here?” he whispered in her ear.

“Hiding,” she whispered back. “I’ve never been here before. Never even taken this stop on the T before. When we leave here, we’ll get a motel room or something and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Is this necessary?”

“Without a doubt.”

Jazz could tell Todd didn’t fully believe her, but he dropped it. Jazz found a few people who were discussing that evening’s performers and the two of them joined the conversation.

-----

Part 2

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

So, I had a lot of fun with this section. The place Jazz takes Jason to? Real place. Though Night Cap isn't what the residents call it. Honestly, the real name is also impossible to google. If you don't know it exists, you would never find it (why Jazz runs from the GIW there). Out of respect for the residents of the apartment, though, I changed the name. I went to a show there and it was super weird trying to find it. Like, the directions in my email seriously said "enter the loading dock of the former coffin factory, find the door on the left, and slip the person standing there $10-20 cash. Don't touch anyone's personal belongings, please."

As we waited for the bathroom during set break, two of the residents were cooking dinner at the stove and we were chatting about how Regan was the worst.

10/10 would go again.

Anyone who has spent any time in Boston knows what I mean about the T being under construction. Annoying as hell, but it worked out for Jazz this time.

(The T is the name of the Boston train/subway system.)

The Pru refers to the Prudential building. The bottom level(s) are full of restaurants and shops (basically a high end shopping mall) and upper levels are offices. The top level is an observation deck that's open to the public, though I've never been.

#dpxdc #jaosn todd #jazz fenton #eventual anger management ship #i may have flexed my boston knowledge #this chapter is totally self indulgent #but the plot is about to ramp up #just need to get jazz confident they'll have privacy #and she has good reason to be paranoid #jason is just along for the ride

193 notes · View notes