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#chasing happiness Tour
isolophilian · 5 months
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normally I'm not the kind of person who would want to meet the actors they like but i just really really want to hug Walker, Aryan, and Leah and tell them how much they mean to me. how I'm so glad they're the ones who the roles. how I'm so thrilled they're doing well with them. how the series that changed my life is changing it again because of them. they fill my heart with so much love, i want nothing but the best for them
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soldier-poet-king · 1 year
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Im still so upset abt my family pulling a Charlotte Lucas on me this weekend but like. It's fine. I am going to get So Buff so I don't have to hate having a soft "feminine" body and also so I'm strong enough to bear the weight of their Ongoing Disappointment (TM) about p much every single one of my life choices and also maybe my very existence
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tigresslanzhu · 1 year
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Teru Teru Bozu
Johnny: Oi! What happened to the tissues that were on this dresser? How am I supposed to wipe Ryan’s tears without a tissue?
Miss Crawly: Mr. Moon, someone stole my make up wiping tissues!
Ash: I don’t think my cold is gonna get any better if I don’t have any tissues to wipe my sneezy nose on!
Buster: ALL RIGHT, WHERE ARE ALL THE TISSUES GOING?
Mizuki: Anybody want a Teru Teru Bozu doll to frighten the thunderstorm away? [holds up a tissue made doll that kind of looks like a ghost]
Everyone: MIZUKI!
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freedomfireflies · 2 months
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Our Place*
Summary: An extra for 404*
The one where Harry invites you back to his apartment for the first time and it doesn't go as planned.
Word Count: 1.7k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, angst (happy ending), use of a safe word
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Harry’s apartment is nicer than you expected. 
The furniture is cozy, the décor is unique, and his bedroom is well kept. He even has fresh flowers on his kitchen table. 
It surprised you, even though it shouldn’t. Harry doesn’t seem like a dirty guy, but truthfully, you were still shocked to find he had both sheets on his bed and no clothes on the ground.
You take in the tiny details of his life as he kisses down your neck and slips his fingers into your jeans. He’d wrangled you onto the bed only seconds after you walked through the door. He didn’t want to give you a tour of the whole apartment. Just the bedroom. Which you were more than all right with. 
He’s oddly desperate, given the circumstances. Maybe he always is, but tonight feels different. Tonight feels…hopeful.
“Shit, Tink,” he groans into your ear when he feels how wet you’ve become. “S’this just because you rode my bike?”
You gently swat the back of his head. “Stop it.”
“What?” He noses under your jaw. “Felt you squirming back there, Princess. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you were trying to get yourself off to the vibrations?”
You wince. You didn’t even realize you’d been doing it. “I was not, I was just…the adrenaline was a lot—”
“Uh-huh.” He laughs and something about it sounds like honey. “S’fine, baby. You know I don’t mind.”
“Well…I wasn’t—”
“Sure. Can I fuck you now?”
You huff. “That’s why I’m here.”
He rips your jeans down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder and somewhere onto the floor. The warm air feels good and it’s then that you realize he’s right. You’re soaked, all the way through your panties.
But instead of taunting you further, he only tugs them aside and pulls his cock out. 
“I think…” he murmurs as he lines himself up, “…it’s high time I got you pregnant.”
Your mouth falls open in a moan as he drops a glob of spit onto your clit and pushes in.  
You’ve noticed that his breeding kink makes an appearance more often than not these days. Which you aren’t exactly complaining about. After all, you have one, too. Mostly thanks to him.
But it surprises you all the same as he starts to work himself in and out of your tight cunt, whispering the filthiest promises. 
“Think I won’t do it, hm? I will. Swell this pretty belly with my cum. S’what it was made for, wasn’t it? To take me. Have my babies. Gonna stretch you so pretty…get your tits leaking. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you, Princess?”
You try to respond but how can you? You feel as though you’ve been fucked dumb. Unable to hear anything past the pounding of blood in your ears.
His glasses start to slip down his nose. He almost always takes them off—they’re mostly for reading anyway. But you like the look of them. Like how studious it makes him seem...how scandalous.
So, you nudge them back up. Desperate to see him exactly the way he always is.
He smirks. “You all right there, Tink?”
You nod weakly. “Yes…yeah. M’fine.”
“Thinking about what I said?” He kisses down your chest. “Thinking about calling me Daddy for real? Having our babies?"
Our. A word you didn’t think belonged to you. Because Harry doesn’t belong to you. And you don’t belong to him. You’re two separate people. Even when you fuck, he’s in his world and you’re in yours. You weren’t meant to be an “our.”
You chalk this up to a slip of the tongue. Something you say when you're threatening to breed someone. And you choose not to give it any power. Because you know what happens if you do.
The fucking gets harder. Faster. He’s chasing a high. In fact, he's been chasing it since earlier in the bar when he saw you with another man. And you know he’s trying to hold off for you, but he wants to cum. He wants to paint your belly with his seed and fuck it back in. Wants to make good on his word even if he shouldn’t.
Your nails scratch down his back, damp and covered in sweat. But his muscles feel good in your hands and you whimper as you hike a leg over his hip and bury him in your pussy.
In your lust-filled haze, your attention drifts. Head rolling to the side as you focus on the soft grunts in your ear. 
But then, your eyes find something on his dresser.
Your heart stops.
In fact, everything stops. Your breathing, your noises, your gentle rolls to meet his thrusts.
It all stops. And you whisper, “Red.”
He quickly falls still. A rather impressive feat given how anxious he is to find release. From 100 to 0 in only seconds, and you almost feel guilty as you sense him glance at you.
“What’s wrong?” he asks through labored inhales. “What…what happened, what do you want me to do?”
But you don’t look back. You keep your focus on the piece of furniture in the corner of his room and you will yourself not to cry.
Eventually, he looks, too. And when he realizes, the air in the room shifts.
He lets out a soft sigh and drops his hand to your hip. Squeezing it once. “Tink…”
You say nothing. Tears are pooling behind your lashes and your chest feels tight. 
“Tink,” he tries again, firm. His grip tightens on your waist. “Tinkerbell—"
“She’s beautiful,” you breathe. You take in a soft gasp. “Oh, my god, Harry, she’s…she’s so beautiful.”
He’s quiet for only a moment. “Yeah. She was,” he agrees gently.
You can’t take your eyes away from the picture frame. The guilt is so much worse now than it was before. Your heart is in your throat, in your ears, lying on the floor next to your jeans. 
You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. In his bed—their bed—fucking the man she died loving. While he promises to get you pregnant and give you his babies.
And how is he so calm? How the fuck is he looking at her picture while still inside of you instead of screaming at you to leave his apartment? How can he be okay with cheating on her with you?
“Princess,” he says again, and grabs onto your jaw to force your focus back to him. “Talk to me, what do you want me to do?”
Your lashes flutter. “What?”
“You said red,” he reminds you. “Which means we stop. But I need to know if you’re in pain or if I can pull out?”
It takes a moment for you to blink the fog from your mind and understand. But when you do, your stomach wrenches. “I…wait, shit, I…I want you to finish, I just…I saw her photo, and—”
“I know,” he interrupts softly. He gives you a gentle smile. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been there. But red means stop. And we’re gonna honor that. No matter why you said it.”
You whimper. “Harry, wait—”
“I’m gonna pull out,” he says, ignoring your plea. “And then we’re gonna talk—”
“Harry…Harry come on, you can’t—”
But he does. Even though he winces as slips himself out, teeth gritting together to keep from coming. 
But once he’s out, he delicately closes your legs, and sits beside you. “Okay,” he begins. He keeps your eyes on him. “What’s going on up there?” 
He nods at your forehead and you want to cry. “Nothing, I just…I…”
“You’ve never seen her before.”
You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”
“And you weren’t expecting to see her now,” he says for you. “Especially when we were fucking.”
You sniffle. “It felt like we were cheating. Like I was helping you hurt her. And then…and then I got worried that maybe you only brought me back here so you could pretend I was her. You know? With all the stuff about…about babies…and us, and…and—”
“Okay, breathe,” he instructs. He cups your cheek and presses his thumb to your trembling lips. “Breathe, Tink. Slow.”
Forced to obey, you suck in shallow gasps for air until your heart rate slows and your head doesn’t feel so dizzy.
Pleased, he says, “I know you’re not her, Tink. I don’t want you to be.”
Your expression softens.
“I brought you here because you’re the only person I want to see in the place she once lived,” he continues. His voice is strong. Steady. Like he’s given this far more thought than you anticipated. “After she died, I left it the same. I didn’t touch anything. Not the furniture she picked out. Not the dumb, cute little bowls she insisted we buy. Not the coffee pot that doesn’t work but she loved because she swore it made her coffee taste better. None of it.”
The tears fall down your cheeks, fast and without mercy. 
“I didn’t invite people over because I wanted to pretend she still lived here,” he tells you. “I wanted it to still be our place. Not just mine. And the thought of bringing someone else back here felt…wrong.”
You grab onto his wrist to keep his hand close and he smiles. 
“And then you,” he murmurs, dipping down to nuzzle his nose against yours. A display of affection you’d never expect from him. “And yeah, you’re annoying, and I hate you. But she would have fucking loved you.”
You nearly sob. 
“I want you here,” he says. “I want to talk about getting you pregnant and having our babies. I want to fuck you on this bed and I want to make you cry for a very different reason.”
You laugh through the tears.
“Look, I don’t believe in guardian angels and an afterlife and all that shit,” he admits. “But sometimes, I swear she sent you to me. And yeah, I probably should have moved the picture first. That was my fault, I haven’t had anyone in here in a while. But…you’re not her, Tink. You’re you. And that’s exactly who I want you to be.”
You can’t stop the next wave of emotion as you sling your arms around his neck and pull him close. He chuckles in your embrace but doesn’t fight you. He holds you, too. For as long as you both need.
“I hate you, too,” you finally whisper.
He smiles.
“Harry?”
“Mm?”
“…can we please finish now?”
He leans back to see you. “Are you sure?”
“Very.” You kiss him. “After all, you promised to get me pregnant. And I can’t leave until you do, Daddy."
The groan against your lips is delicious and devious.
And it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.
“As you wish.”
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WHY DID THIS MAKE ME WANT TO CRY!!! ALSO HI I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!
Previous Part:
~ The one where Harry gets jealous (again)
~ Full 404 Masterlist
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin
@justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda
@vamprry @fdl305 @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach
@lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana
@dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley
@myalovesharry @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave
@nuggetdean @triski73 @finelinesss
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reiderwriter · 2 months
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Hello!I hope you are having a great day!I love LOVE your writing and I would like to request a fanfiction where the reader is Hotch's daughter who works at the bau and is in a secret relationship with spencer without her dad knowing.Spencer wants to tell the team but she is scared about how they'll react so they fight but during a case she gets kidnapped and the feelings are high,so spencer accidentally reveals the relationship.I would love if it ended in smut (possibly dom!spencer who is angry at her for being so reckless and risking her life like that) and maybe a lot of angst??Hotch could potentially be fuming but when they get her back he decides that he will let them be??I would like my emoji to be 🌼!Thank you in advance and if you write this I would absolutely LOVE to read it!🤍🤍
A/N: I love writing for a Hotchner Reader because the Hotch/Spencer parallels are so 😙👌 This was so fun to write!
Warnings: Smut/ Angst with a happy ending, Semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, case details, kidnapping, abuse, strangulation, mentions of child death/ allusions towards pedophilia etc, Hotch is a somewhat shitty/overprotective dad/boss.
Masterlist!
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Falling back into a hotel bed that wasn't yours, you wrapped your legs around Spencer Reid as he furiously worked open the buttons of your shirt, his lips locked with yours in a furious exchange. 
“Spencer, Spencer, we can't-” You moaned as his lips fell down to your ear, a small tap to your thigh signalling that he wanted tour legs spread for him. Despite your vocal protests, you complied.
“Need to feel you,” he groaned, nipping and sucking his way down your chest as his big hands began pushing your skirt up and your panties down. 
“Spencer, someone will hear.” 
“I don't care who hears,” he whispered, finally ridding you of the last piece of material covering your wet sex. “I just want to make you feel good.”
His lips fell to your cunt, falling on your cunt as he began his ministrations. You loved this, the feeling of him near, his lips on you, his tongue teasing out whimper, then moan, then a scream of his name as you came undone on his lips. But that wasn't a chance you could take today. 
“He's in the next room, Spencer. Fuck, he's going to hear us.” 
You wouldn't push him off, enjoying too much the feeling of your building pleasure, so appealing to your boyfriend to do the right thing was your last resort as your hips bucked into his face, chasing your orgasm. 
He didn't stop, but held your hips down, thrusting his tongue in and out of you as his fingers came up to tease your clit. 
“Spencer, fuck-” you slapped a hand over your mouth as you shuddered below him, finally reaching your climax. 
Your hands fell limp as he worked you through the end of your orgasm before rising up to lay beside you on the bed. 
“I wish you wouldn't push it, Spencer. You're a dead man if he catches us like this.” 
“Hotch won't kill me just because I'm dating his daughter. I don't understand why you don't want to tell people.” 
You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. It was a conversation you'd been back and forward on a lot in the past six months. 
Dating a coworker was tricky, doubly so when your coworker’s boss - and your boss - was your overprotective father. Things only became more complicated when you factored in a ten year age gap and the fact that your father refused to view you as an adult, even when you were a fully qualified member of his own team. 
You'd had to fight for acceptance into the FBI and go above him to get the job on his team, a decision that he still berated you for to this day. But you'd had enough of him shielding you from reality, and it was a step you needed to take. 
Falling in love with Spencer Reid, though, that was just pure bad luck. 
You weren't sure how it had taken you until joining the team to meet the man, but you sure were glad he hadn't been introduced earlier. You'd joined the team at 24, having been in grad school until your FBI Academy application was approved, and somehow in the 10 years before that Spencer had worked under your father, you'd never crossed paths.
Of course, you knew who he was before that from context and conversations with your father, and of course, he figured out who you were quickly based on the many arguments you'd had in Hotch’s office. But that hadn't stopped you from repeatedly falling into his bed month after month, and then falling in love with him. 
Your relationship was more than the sex, but it was also a lot of sex. From the stories you'd heard, and from the look of him, you'd assumed that Spencer was a delicate little flower, an innocent in the bedroom as much as any 34 year old man could be. 
And then you'd both been offered spiked drinks at a holiday party courtesy of Penelope Garcia, and he'd proved you deliriously wrong. He'd been hooked from then on, and after waking up awkwardly in his bed the next morning to two cups of coffee and a spread of breakfast pastries he'd gone out to specifically pick up for you, you'd been hooked on him as well. 
The only problem was Hotch. 
You certainly weren't winning any daughter of the year awards already with the stunt you pulled to get on the BAU, but you didn't want to be completely and totally disowned just yet. 
“Hotch won't kill you for dating his daughter, you're right,” you mumbled back to Spencer rolling yourself back on top of him and pinning his arms down so his fingers couldn't tease you any further. 
“Thank you, now if you trust me, I've ran like four different scenarios in my head so-” 
“He'd definitely fire us both, though. And that's worse than death.”
“Y/N….” 
“Tell me I'm wrong, please. Back up your findings with empirical evidence. He doesn't want me on the team, Spencer. He doesn't even want me in the FBI. I think he'd be happy enough to ship me out of the country, too, if that helped.”
Spencer sighed and tugged your hair behind your ear as he gestured for you to sit up. 
“I know it's scary. But I love you. I don't care about the consequences because I'll still love you before and after telling him.”
“And during?” 
“I might freak out a bit, but deep down, the love will be there still.”
You hit him with a pillow and climbed off the bed. 
“Okay, get out now. I'll think about it but you really can't stay here tonight.” He nodded, grabbing his things and pulling his clothes back into place. 
“So, like we're totally done for tonight? Nothing else.”
“Spencer! Out!” You whisper-shouted the words and watched him turn your door handle as slowly as possible before he waved his goodbye and left your room. 
12 hours later, you were once again getting frustrated with Spencer Reid. And Aaron Hotchner. They may soon be enemies, but goddamn they were perfect for each other in some ways. 
“Hotch, you can't just give me nothing to do. Send me to the morgue with Rossi, or let me interview family members with Tara. I'm a member of this team, too, so let me do my job.” 
“You'll do well to remember that I'm your boss, Y/N.”
“You're acting more like my dad right now. A boss would utilize his team members.” 
You'd been stuck in this stale mate since the morning, and Reid hadn't helped at all. When giving out assignments that morning, you'd not been notably left out of crime scene investigation, suspect interrogation, and anything helpful. Reid usually asked for your assistance at times like these, but he was finally putting his money where his mouth was and keeping distance from you in the office.
So far, you'd ran coffees back and forth between the kitchen and work room and had been communicating back and forth with JJ and Derek in the field and Garcia back at Quantico. 
You'd been, for lack of better comparison, relegated to receptionist. 
“At least let me work on the geographical profile with Reid-” 
“Absolutely not.” 
You stiffened at the reaction, wondering just exactly why he would react so strongly. Spencer had snuck in a few secret kisses here and there this morning, though you'd been sure that you'd had no witnesses. 
“Why not?” 
“I don't want you to distract him.”
Bile settled in the back of your throat as you tried your best to bite your tongue and keep the bitter words in. 
“You know, sometimes, Dad, it feels like you love everyone on this team more than you love me.” 
He locked eyes with you quickly, but he glance was dismissive and stern, almost as if he was asking you ‘seriously.’ 
You turned on your heels and began to walk out before he called out from behind you again. 
“Y/N,” you stopped despite yourself. 
“Leave the gun and badge on the desk. We'll discuss this after the case is closed.”
You almost laughed. You almost blurted out your relationship with Spencer just to spite him. You followed his order and took yourself out of the office for some fresh air, finally giving him what he wanted. 
An hour of aimlessly wandering down the street, and you turned into a run-down park. 16 missed calls from Spencer and other members of the team, who'd no doubt watched you turn in your badge. 
Garcia had even called a few times, and you felt guilty for not forwarding her calls somewhere else, knowing she'd probably have key case information for someone. 
But you just couldn't handle it anymore, so you switched it off, pushed it back into your pocket, and kept walking. 
It was two more blocks before the man following you pushed a soaked rag over your mouth and nose and pushed your unconscious body into the back of a waiting van. 
×××××
Two hours of near constant complaining to Hotch had gotten Spencer nowhere in his demands to know just where you went. 
He'd called you 36 times since Hotch had told him you'd left, and he hadn't stopped freaking out since. 
“But where did she go?” 
“I sent her back to the motel.” 
“All of our cars, bar the one JJ and Morgan took to the crime scene, are outside and accounted for. The motel is a 34-minute drive away. It'll take her 5 hours on foot through our unsubs hunting grounds, and I'm not sure if you've noticed, but she matches the victim profile we just gave. Where is she?” 
A muscle in Hotch's jaw twitched, but neither of them moved, eyes locked in battle to see who would back down first.
A call from Penelope ended whatever disaster was storming between them. 
“Hotch hey, I can't get in contact with mini-Hotch, so here I am. Morgan called earlier from the crime scene. From the way they're posed, he said they could be possible stand-ins for a lost child  a daughter or a sister, so I cross checked the ownership of the vehicles that run with the tires we found prints of at the scene, and I got a name. Like one.”
“Great work, Penelope, send it over.” 
Hotch dropped the call and looked back up at Spencer, readying himself to give orders and push the issue. 
Again, their standoff was interrupted. 
“Hotch,” JJ rushed in, carrying a radio dispatcher, face white, and filled with worry. “You need to hear this.”
“Witness reported an abduction on East and 7th, patrol surveyed the scene and found a cellphone. Identifying information suggests it belongs to a Y/N Hotchner. We're bringing it into the stat-” 
Hotch stood so fast his chair almost crashed to the floor. He stood so fast that he barely had time to dodge the lunge Spencer took in his direction, fist pulled back. It would connect, given the chance  he knew it would. He'd been the one to teach Spencer to throw a punch in the first place. 
Morgan insinuated himself between the two men before, and blood could be shed, quickly pulling Spencer back as Rossi, too, rushed into the room to diffuse the situation. 
“One hour. I've been asking you for one hour where she went, and you wouldn't answer me. You made her leave her gun behind.” 
It wasn't exactly a shout, but there was something broken in his voice, as of his mouth had filled with blood and he could only spit hate at a man who'd been a mentor to him until seconds before. 
“If she's hurt- fuck, if even a hair on her head is out of place, I'll-” 
“What, Spencer? What will you do? She's my daughter. What could you do that-”
“She's my girlfriend! She's my girlfriend, she's the love of my life. God, I want to marry her, I have the ring, I have the proposal planned, all that was left was telling you and then asking her, but you've been such a dick to her about this job, and about cases, and God knows what else, that she doesn't want to say anything to you, and now you've driven her away and she's fucking gone. And she could be hurt or in danger or d-de…” 
He crumpled to the floor, Morgan still holding him as his legs gave way beneath him. 
Nobody moved for what felt like hours, still in their grief, shock, some just nervous to see what would happen next. 
“You've been in this situation before, Hotch. So have I. It's …. It hasn't ended well for us before.” 
The words were so final, so defeated that they sucked the air out of the room.
“Morgan,” Hotch started quietly, eyes still locked with Reid's, still staring down the reflection of his own despair.
“Get Garcia back on the line, I want confirmation that the vehicle that picked Y/N up is the same one that our unsub has been using to set up crime scenes. See if she can lift a name and an address. Rossi, if he's skilled enough to pick up an FBI Agent unaware, we need a SWAT team, get one on standby.”
Slowly growing in volume, he continued, as the room started moving at his signal. 
“JJ, Tara, take over where Reid left off with the geographical profile. Look at Y/N's last known location and how far a car could've gotten in the last 24 minutes.” 
He paused again, staring Reid down. 
“Reid, you're with me.” 
xxxxx
It took you a few seconds to gain a sense of your surroundings when you came to. Partially because of the drug induced migraine splitting your head, and partially because of the mess of ribbons and stuffed toys you'd woken up in. 
A change of clothes, and hands tied to what seemed to be a children's bed and you felt so grossly vulnerable your body shook with a few harsh sobs before you regained your composure and remembered your training. 
The knots on the rope holding your hands were tight. There wasn't much room to move with them pinned above your head, but you recognised them as naval knots. Your unsub had experience at sea, recreational or professional you'd yet to determine. 
Looking around again, you looked for entries and exits, wanting to know how the unsub would come in again and how you could get out. 
There were no windows, but a set of stairs leading up towards a solid door told you that you'd been locked inside a basement. A basement decorated similarly to a child's bedroom. 
Dimly lit by a mass of fairy lights, the room seemed covered head to toe in teddy bears, dolls, and children's books, a sturdy handmade doll’s house standing in the corner of the room. 
Faintly, you heard the creaking of floorboards above you before the handle of the basement door rattled and more light poured in. 
“I bought you breakfast, cupcake.” 
There was no time to feign unconsciousness again as your captor finally came into view. 
He was older than middle-aged, slightly wider around the midsection than you assumed he'd been in his youth. His hair was closely cropped and laid neatly, leading you to suspect he was former military. 
“Oh, good, you're awake. What do you want to do today, cupcake? Daddy has some time off now, I can play with you all you want.” 
You moved slowly, pushing yourself up to a seated position so you could bend your arms a bit. But you didn't look away, needing to keep him in your line of sight the entire time.
“Where am I?” You asked slowly, trying to keep your voice steady. 
“Wow, you must've had a deep sleep cupcake. You're in your bedroom, silly!”
The man's sprightly tone was disconcerting, and you could see a muscle in his forehead twitch slightly as you spoke. 
“O-of course. My mistake. Maybe I'm just still tired.”
He laid the tray on the bedside table and sat on the bed next to you. You tried your best not to shy from his touch as he stroked your hair, but every muscle in your body tensed and pulled from him reflexively. 
A quick glance to the tray and you saw the food he'd brought you was a small cup of pills and a glass of water to rinse them down with. 
If he noticed your flinch, he said nothing, grabbing a hairbrush from the nightstand and beginning to comb through your hair slowly and deliberately, taking care like one would a daughter. 
“Daddy,” you took a chance, recalling the name he'd given himself earlier. “Can we play outside today? I want to go to the park.” 
He stopped moving, and you held your breath as his smile dropped. 
“No, sweetie. You know we don't go to parks.” 
“Why not? I really want to play there, Daddy, please!”
In seconds, his hands wrapped around your throat as he pushed you back down into the bed, holding you there with his tight, suffocating grip. 
“Shut the fuck up you little slut. I said we don't go to parks, you listen. I am your father, you are not being taken by one of those sick freaks again.” 
He released you as quick as he grabbed you and stood up, pacing as he attempted to regain composure. 
“You can draw or we can have a tea party but you know we can't go out. You know that cupcake, I've told you so many times.” 
He grabbed at his hair, pulling it from its carefully styled arrangement into a mess, his fingers leaving red marks against his white skin as he pushed and pulled his head. 
He breathed deeply, and you sat up, trying to regain your composure as you watched him lose his. 
“What was her name?” You whispered, half hoping he would hear you, half praying that he'd ignore you for the sake of his fantasy. 
“W-What?” 
“Your daughter. What was her name?” 
He focused on you again, but his hands - hands that you knew could and would choke the life out of you if you did something wrong again - his hands were shaking. 
You heard the floorboards creaking upstairs and decided to push your questioning, hoping it meant what you thought it did. 
“Why are you saying it like that, ‘was?’ Is. Her name is, your name is Laura, and you're my little cupcake.” 
“What happened to her?” You filled your voice with as much sympathy and understanding as you could muster, one eye on the basement door that was being slowly pushed open. One look at Morgan at the top of the stairs had your heart rate slowing to a calmer speed. You locked eyes with him for a second, halting him, and he nodded, waiting for your signal. 
“You, you're my cupcake, you look just like… She should look just like you.” 
The man sat on the bed again, stroking a hair out of your eye as his filled with tears. 
“Fifteen years. I looked for her for fifteen years, you know. If I hadn't taken her to that park-” 
“That must have been hard.” 
He nodded as he broke down in silent sobs. 
“They said… they said she probably died a day or two after we lost her. When they found her, she was…” he rested his head on your shoulder, let him cling to you as he mourned his daughter. 
“We couldn't identify her, but she had that teddy with her. The teddy with the cupcake in its hands. She never went anywhere without it. So we…we knew.
You looked at Morgan as he slowly made his descent into the room, closely followed by JJ. 
The man looked up into your eyes again, wiping the tears from his face. 
“She was only 8.” He looked defeated, and your heart broke for him, even as you wished to get as far away from him as you could physically muster. 
Morgan pulled him up and away from you as he secured the man with handcuffs, but his eyes remained locked on you. 
JJ untied you and guided you out, but you felt his gaze bite into you ever after you'd left the basement. 
As soon as you were above ground, you let your body divest itself of adrenaline, your legs buckling as JJ tried to catch you. Another set of arms was quicker, though, and you didn't even register Spencer's arrival before burying your head in his chest and letting your sobs escape you. 
He guided you to your feet and walked you out to the ambulance, his arms protectively wrapped around you, his lips peppering kisses along your hairline and forehead, anywhere he could reach. In moments, you were bundled into the ambulance, and three gentle voices were trying to calm you, to pry you away from your comfort doll.
You wondered if you'd die like the unsubs daughter had, if they'd find you clinging to Spencer the way she had to her teddy bear.
“Y/N,” your father's deep voice was clear and smooth, the only thing that was cutting through the wretched moment of pain you were enduring. 
You remembered yourself again, relinquishing your grip on Spencer and wiping the tears from your face as you finally looked towards Aaron Hotchner. 
The paramedics took their chance and began checking your vitals, working around you in a hurry. 
“Dad, I'm sorry, I was walking and didn't notice that he was behind me, I should've been more careful-”
“Y/N, it’s okay. You're okay now.” 
You nodded as he came closer. You ignored the tears in his eyes, trying not to break down again. It had been an age since you'd last witnessed him cry, at another crime scene with another family member and another unsub. You couldn't think about how close you'd come to making him relive his worst nightmare. 
Spencer's hand was still firm in yours, and you held it like a lifeline, though you were sure your nails had to be cutting him by now. It took another moment to register that he was holding onto you just as hard, that he was unmoving, still where he was usually a series of compulsive moments, tapping, hand wringing, fists clenching and releasing. 
You glanced between the men, who had now become quiet as they surveyed you, and noticed the tension. Before you could say anything, though, the paramedics took over. 
“We're going to get you to the hospital now, Agent, one coworker can accompany you in the vehicle, preferably one with knowledge of your medical history.”
Both men immediately moved forward again, as if ready to jump into the van, before turning again to each other. 
“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself just as the buzzing in your head from the migraine grew louder. 
“Y/N, it's your choice. Who do you want to come?” Spencer said gently, his body still stiff with worry. 
“I'm her father. This isn't a question of who she likes better.”
“I have her medical records memorized, and I have more knowledge about the drugs the unsub gave her, but Y/N can choose for herself because she is a grown woman.”
You sighed and dropped the man's hand as the medics ushered you into the van fully, but the men were fully absorbed in their fight for dominance that they barely registered it. 
“JJ. JJ is coming with me,” You could see both of them turn back to you to argue, but you continued before they could. “Because I am a grown adult who knows her own medical history, and I don't need my father and my… coworker having territory wars over my wellbeing.” 
And possibly because she'd be the least awkward option to answer the questions about sexual activity and possibility of pregnancy around, but you really did not need to vocalize that. 
“Right now, I'm just a victim you've saved. Go and do your jobs and meet me at the hospital later because I am not doing overtime completing paperwork while on suspension.” 
JJ climbed up into the ambulance and the doors shut, letting you finally get a few moments peace as it began slowly making its way to whatever hospital was closest. 
“He knows, right?” You asked, covering your eyes with your hands as you braved for the answer. 
“Hotch? You could say that he figured it out.” 
“That bad?” 
“Spencer threw a punch at him. He tried to at least.” 
“What?!” Your body shot up, but the paramedic gently forced you back into a laid position, giving you a warning look to stay put as she checked your blood pressure. 
“Don't be too hard on him, Y/N. He thought he was going to lose you. They both did. I don't think either of them would survive it happening again.” 
The guilt hit you right in the chest as you nodded and dropped the conversation. 
“Maybe I should've let Spencer come with me.” 
“Why?” JJ asked, not offended bit curious. 
“Because I'm not entirely sure my father won't throw that punch back at him now he knows I'm okay. It's hard being in a relationship if one of you is dead.” 
The older woman chuckled slightly, and you settled back down, letting the car movements rock you into sleep. 
xxxxx
A few hours later and some quietly bickering voices pulled you from the rest you'd so sorely needed. Without even opening your eyes, you knew they'd both subtly scrambled to your bed to make sure you were comfortable. 
“What are you talking about?” You asked, wiping your eyes carefully as you tried to sit up, arms still aching from being tied up. 
“Oh shit-” you exclaimed after seeing your boyfriends freshly split lip. 
“Dad, what the fuck?” 
“Y/N, it's fine. It doesn't hurt.” 
“Aaron Hotchner, do you have nothing to say for yourself?” You tried to put all of tour anger into the words as you said them, bit he looked at you again with his straight face, and you crumpled under the pressure. 
“I won't…I'm not going to object. I just ask you to keep your private life separate from your work.” 
“And you're going to punch my boyfriend while I'm unconscious, so I can't defend him.” 
“I'm still your father, and he deserved it.” 
You looked back over to Spencer, who was quite notably not meeting your eyes. 
“Do I want to know?” 
“I'm leaving now. Jack will be here soon. He wants to check on you now that school is over. We told him you were hurt trying to save a sick man.” 
“Thank you, dad.” 
He nodded at you and left you alone in your hospital room with Spencer. 
“Why did you deserve it?” You whisper shouted the moment you assumed he was out of earshot. 
“The doctor came in and asked about some old bruises on your upper thighs. And ass. And chest. I had to admit they weren't sustained during the kidnapping, and Hotch wasn't pleased.” 
You huffed out a sound halfway between incredulous and a strangled moan of shame as you curcled yourself up into a ball and tried your best to die. 
“Great. Wonderful.”
“If it makes you feel any better, he thought it was signs of domestic violence and not just rough...sex.” 
“Yes, Spencer, that makes me feel entirely more comfortable with the situation.” 
Registering the sarcasm in your voice, he quieted down again, settling into the chair by your bedside and grabbing your hand. 
You sat silently together for a few minutes before either of you said anything. 
“I'm sorry. I know you didn't want him to find out.” 
“Spencer, you don't have to apologise. All things considered, this is possibly the best way he could've found out.”
“My busted lip suggests otherwise, I think.” 
“And a whole lot more would've been busted if he caught us any other time. Besides, I already lost my job, so there's not much else at stake anymore.” 
The words stung you as you said them, but you did still feel the weight of your dismissal in your chest, spreading miserably through your bones. 
“Does your head still hurt?”
“Not really, why?”
“You're not as perceptive as you usually are.”
You shot him a confused look as he smiled softly down at you, offering a nod towards the small coffee table under the window of your hospital room. 
There on your table sat your creds and your gun. The silent acknowledgement you'd been waiting for from your father. 
Spencer sat by you as you did your best to hold off the tears. He let you pretend there was something in your eye, let you wonder if your eyes had become watery because of dust from the basement. He quietly held your hand as you grinned and grinned until you pulled him in for a kiss and held him close to you. 
His lips were soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you even as he tried to hold himself up and off you so he didn't hurt you. 
“You know,” you said, punctuating each word with another sweet kiss. “This means- that- you're- stuck- with- me.” 
He laughed into your final kiss, finally pulling back for more air, studying your face as if he were trying to memorize it. 
“That was never the issue.” 
“Oh really, and what was?”
He kissed your again, slow and deep this time, taking his time working his hands down from your hair to your neck to cup your face so you were opened up to him, letting his lips and tongue explore everything he wanted to. He pulled away eventually and instinctively your lips tried to chase his, even as he pulled out of reach. 
“Making sure you stayed by my side.” 
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harryshomebaby · 1 year
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good morning i really love harry
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dreamescapeswriting · 2 months
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Reunions Embrace ~ HYJ
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WORD COUNT: 2.1K
GENRE: idol!AU, established relationships, SMUT MINORS DNI, blow job, unprotected sex, reader taking care of the prince as deserved,
PAIRING: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
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The moment Hyunjin stepped into the house, a sense of tranquillity washed over him, filling every corner of his being with a comforting embrace. The home had been completely transformed since he left as if his absence had somehow imbued it with an even greater sense of warmth and homeliness. 
The living room was bathed in the soft glow of evening light filtering through the blinds, it felt like peace compared to the bus he'd been cramped on for months. The coffee table had a vase of fresh cut flowers placed in them, so fresh he could smell them from the doorway and his body began to relax completely but the one thing putting him into a complete state of relaxation was the smell of cooking. Not just any cooking but Hyunjin's favourite meal that was greeting him, instantly warming his heart as he went toward the kitchen in the hunt for you.
In the kitchen, he found you standing by the stove, your sleeves rolled up as you tended to a pot simmering on the stove. The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of his favourite meal, a comforting blend of spices and flavours that instantly transported him back to simpler times.
"Hey, you're home!" You exclaimed, rushing over toward him and instantly wrapping your arms around him, his arms snaking around your waist as his head rested on the top of your head. This was what peace was, this was everything he ever wanted in life. To come home to you and this hug. He held you close, feeling the warmth of your embrace chase away the lingering chill of his travels. 
"I've missed you so much," he whispered, his voice filled with longing and affection. It had been far too long since he'd gotten to hold you and he wasn't planning on letting go so easily. You smiled to yourself, letting out a happy sigh as you snuggled your head into his chest. 
The two of you spoke almost every day whenever you could but it was hard when his schedule kept him so busy on tour, but you understood the risks of dating someone in his career and you accepted them. As long as he continued to come home to you, that was all you cared about. 
Slowly pulling back you looked up at him with eyes that sparkled with joy and love, you were almost afraid if you looked away he would suddenly disappear. 
"I've missed you too," You replied softly, your hand reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, it had grown so much longer since the last time you saw him and you knew it was going to be irritating him sooner or later.
As you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude for having you in his life. Despite the distance and the challenges you faced, you were always there for him, supporting him and loving him unconditionally. No matter the rumour going around you stood by him, waiting for him to tell you his side before ever passing judgement. Always there to care for him whenever he was sick or overworked, you were always there and he couldn't have been more grateful for you.
"I can't believe you cooked my favourite meal," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 
"You really are the best." He kissed the top of your head as you grinned up at him, your eyes shining with happiness. 
"Well, I wanted to do something special for you," You said, your voice filled with warmth as you slowly went back over to the stove to make sure everything was cooking nicely. You had a whole night planned out for him and it wasn't going to end with just the meal,
"Welcome home, my love." You whispered as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder while he stood with you and you cooked. And at that moment, as you stood there together, surrounded by the aroma of his favourite meal and the love that filled the air, he knew that no matter where his travels took him, he would always find his way back to you.
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After savouring every last bite of the meal you'd lovingly prepared, he felt a warmth spread through his body unlike any he had experienced before. It wasn't just the delicious flavours that filled him with contentment, but the knowledge that each bite was a tangible expression of your love and devotion. As he leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. The worries and stresses of his time away seemed to melt away with each mouthful, replaced by a profound sense of gratitude for the love of his life sitting across from him.
"Wait right here," You whispered, your voice soft and soothing, you walked over to him, pressing a kiss to his temple and smirking to yourself.
"I have something special planned for you." Without giving him a chance to respond he watched as you disappeared from the room, anticipation fluttering in his chest like a butterfly's wings. 
Moments later, you returned, your arms cradling a stack of fluffy towels and a bottle of his favourite bath oil. 
"Come with me," You said, your voice a gentle melody that beckoned him to follow, almost like a siren's call and he was up in a flash, following after you in silence.
Together, you ascended the stairs, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows on the walls. As you reached the landing, you led him into the bathroom, where the air was heavy with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus.
With tender care, you began to fill the tub with warm water, the sound of rushing water a soothing symphony that filled the room. Once the tub was filled to the brim, you poured in a generous amount of bath oil, the fragrant aroma enveloping you both in a cloud of tranquillity.
"You don't have to do all of this for me," He mumbled a little, guilt weighing on him as he thought about all of the efforts you were going through for him. He'd been away so long and yet you were still doing all of this for him and a small part of him felt as though he should be the one to do this for you. 
"I want to, I missed you and want to take good care of you," You told him as you glanced over your shoulder, reading the look on his face easily and sending him a reassuring smile.
"But-"
"No buts, I want to do this and I will," You said sternly, making him chuckle a little as you stood up and turned to face him. 
"Now, it's time to relax." You whispered as you kissed him softly, slowly peeling off his clothes and dropping them into the laundry basket inside the room. Continuing to strip him and kiss his naked shoulders as you did so, smiling happily as you watched him sink further into relaxation.
Hyunjin stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm embrace of the water with a contented sigh. You knelt beside him, dipping a soft sponge into the water and beginning to wash away the cares of the day with gentle strokes. As you washed him, your touch was tender and loving, each caress a silent promise of your devotion. He closed his eyes, surrendering himself fully to the sensation of her hands moving over his skin, washing away the tension and fatigue that had accumulated during his time away.
"This is nice," He whispered, his head leaning back against the tub as you continued to wash his body gently. It was the first time touching him in a long time but it wasn't sexual, it was relaxing. 
"Lean forward." You whisper in his head, once he does you begin to run the sponge down his back, smiling as your boyfriend fully relaxes for you. 
"Thank you," He whispered as he leaned back against the tub, his eyes finding yours and smiling in a completely relaxed state. There was no place he'd rather be right now than right here,
"Anytime baby," You giggled a little, kissing him softly as he slipped further into the water, his eyes fluttering shut as you smiled leaning back against the tub enjoying him back with you. 
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Hyunjin sucks in a sharp breath as he watches your soft lips wrap around his hard length, he couldn't remember how you'd gotten to the bedroom but he didn't care, he was in complete bliss. Your eyes flirt with him as you sink lower onto his shaft and back up again, his moans filling the room as his eyes flutter shut,
"F-Fuck I missed this," He mumbles, his hands clutching onto the sheets as you run your tongue up and down his length, using your hand to stroke what your mouth can't reach as your head bobs up and down, tracing the veins in his skin as you suck. 
"Just like that," He moans, his gaze now on you as you looked up at him, humming around him as you continue to suck him deeper, his praises filling you with determination. You wanted this to be the perfect welcome home for him and you were going to do anything for that to happen.
"Ffuuck," He hisses, your pace quickening as you suck him and stroke him faster, pulling off him to spit on the tip before taking him back into your mouth and to the back of your throat again,
"S-Stop...S-Stop," He begs as you pull back, afraid you'd done something wrong but he brought you onto his lap, kissing you deeply and hungrily as he wrapped his arms around you.
"I want to come with you," He whispered as he lined himself up at your entrance, your hands making their way into his hair and you bit down on his lip softly. 
"I need you" You whimpered, as he slowly pushed into you, your eyes squeezing shut at the stretch, it had been far too long since you'd been with one another but you needed this.
"Shit, Yn, you're so fucking tight," He groans, his head rolling back against the bed as you sank further onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his length as you breathed out a happy sigh,
"You're too big," You mumbled to him, rolling your hips slowly moving your hips in slow circles as his hands clutched onto your hips, there was no way he was going to last long, not when it had been too long since you were last together,
"Y-Yn," He stuttered out, he wanted this to be good for you too but he knew there was no chance he could make you come like this, not with how needy he was,
"This is all about you tonight," You breathed out, biting his ear softly as you slowly began to raise your hips only to let them fall again, rocking back and forth on him as he moaned your name out loudly. Your breathing went faster and shallower as you moved your hips faster on him, his hands digging into your hips as he groaned squeezing his eyes shut and trying to list off baseball players to distract him,
"Come for me baby, I missed you." You moaned out, looking down at him as he whimpered, his hips bucking wildly as he couldn't fight it anymore, the urge to come taking over him as he bucked into you, your pussy clenching around him as he thrusts harder and faster into you. Cumming suddenly as he whimpered your name out, sweat dripping down his forehead as you continued to ride him through his high.
"Maybe I should have made you bathe last," You teased, kissing his lips softly as he whimpered, unable to find words to speak at that moment.
"I'll run a fresh one and I'll join you this time," You told him, slowly getting up and smirking as you made your way to the bathroom, your boyfriend's eyes on you the whole time.
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harryslittlefreakk · 5 months
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the pact
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summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time
warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)
wordcount: 6k
a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!
my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼
From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.
But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.
Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.
Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.
Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”
“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,
‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’
“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.
“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.
“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.
She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.
Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.
You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.
With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.
“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.
“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.
“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”
You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”
The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”
“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”
“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”
Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.
It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.
Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.
“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.
The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.
“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.
The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.
You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.
For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.
“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.
“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.
“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.
Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.
He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.
His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.
He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.
Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.
He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.
Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.
Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”
“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”
He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.
“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.
“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”
“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”
You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.
You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.
You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”
You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.
“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”
part two
taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein
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tayytayy12 · 4 days
Text
Flashback when you met me | OP81 x singer!Reader
Summary | The lead up and the result of Oscar and Reader meeting for the first time.
Warnings | Past relationship mentioned, swearing
Notes - Reader and Lando are childhood best friends, Oscar’s still in F2 at this time
FaceClaim - SabrinaCarpenter
Oscar x Nonsense series (you don’t have to read any of these to understand this, it’s just works with Oscar and the same love interest if you’d like to read them.)
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Yourusername
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Liked by - LandoNorris, GracieAbrams and 2,826,022 | posted November 26th
Yourusername - Meeting you and singing and dancing with you for the past year on tour is a core memory I’ll carry with me always, and I can’t believe it’s over already. Even though most of the songs that I sung in this tour I can no longer relate to, I’m happy that when I look back in them I won’t be reminded of bad memories, but instead all the love you’ve shown me. Thank you for making my dreams come true, and thank you for all the extra love and care you’ve shown me these past weeks. I love you, I’ll see you soon 💕
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User1 - I CANT BELIEVE TOURS OVER ALRDY OMFG
LandoNorris - Mate we’ve established this, don’t cry over weirdo little boys, you deserve better.
Yourusername - He complimented me someone get a picture
LandoNorris - I take it back.
User2 - I love their friendship omfg
User3 - Forever in denial that I didn’t get any tickets 🫢
User4 -The pic of her crying is so real
User5 - I HATE Y/EX/N
User6 - FR, LIKE HOW CAN YOU CHEAT ON Y/N Y/L/N
User7 -The captions so cuteee 😭💕
User8 - ILY
User9 - Why is she crying?
User10 - The song she was singing, you belong with me, was about her ex and a couple weeks ago photos leaked of him cheating on her with some girl multiple times and he came out and said that he didn’t care and that he’d do it again because he’s a asshole, but when she had to sing the sings that were about him on tour she probably got a bit emotional.
User11 - She’s going MIA for ages now I can feel it
LandoNorris
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Liked by - Yourusername, Lilymhe and 1,005,362 others | posted December 14th
Tagged | @/Yourusername
LandoNorris - The duo you all missed is reunited cause I’m dragging this lazy, sad bitch out of bed to be my plus one to the FIA Christmas party tonight 🥳
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Yourusername - I hate you.
LandoNorris - You wasn’t saying that when you was laughing your ass off ur bed 🤨
Yourusername - Shut up
User12 - SHES BEEN MIA FOR THREE WEEKS
User13 - Poor Y/n 😭
User14 - Lando always delivers with the funny Y/n pics
User15 - I need a friendship like theirs
Yourusername - I’m telling your mum that you dragged me out of bed by my ankles
LandoNorris - Pls don’t she loves you more than me
Yourusername - I’m telling Oliver too
LandoNorris- YOULL HAVE FUN I PROMISE
Yourusername
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Liked by - LandoNorris, OscarPiastri and 1,435,028 others | posted December 15th
Yourusername - I hate it when he’s right, but yes I had fun (a lot more than I thought I would and I’ve made a new discovery send help.) ft. The pic I took of Lando’s face when I told him the tea.
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User16 - Y/n Wdym you’ve made a new discovery I’m scared
Yourusername - GIRL ME TOO.
User17 - Y/N WHERE DID YOU GET THAT DRESS OMG
Yourusername - @/Lilymhe closet 🫢
Lilymhe - THEIF (you look hot so I’ll let it slide)
User18 - What happened for Lando to look shocked and happy at the same time IM INVESTED NOW
User19 - Y/ex/n is looking at this and weeping cause imagine losing Y/N. Y/L/N.
LandoNorris - I know something you don’t, I know something you’ll never know 🥳
Yourusername - SHUT UP OR ILL HURT YOU
LandoNorris - Aw ily too
User20 - LANDO TELL US
LandoNorris - I can’t sorry she just chased me around her house with a coat hanger threatening to hang me
User21 - LMAO
User22 - Y/n, it’s been nine months, GIVE US NEW MUSIC PLS
User23 - Don’t be scared Y/n, tell us the new discovery 🫠
Yourusername
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Liked by - OscarPiastri, LandoNorris and 3,653,926 others | posted December 24th
Yourusername - Okay so here’s the deal; my brand new single ‘enchanted’ is out now, surprise !!! It was written and recorded a few nights ago and I had some help writing this in the form of my best friend Lando (who I dragged out of bed at three in the morning because I couldn’t think of a hook, and he came up with a great one so I did the right thing) and it might just happen to be about that new discovery I mentioned.
This is my Christmas present to you all, I love you, I hope you like the song 🤍💕
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User24 - OMG OMG OMG OMG
User25 - ‘Please don’t be in love with someone else’ Y/N WHO ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT GIRL??????
LandoNorris - Now my resume will say Lando Norris: Karting world champion, F2 runner up, F1 podium scorer, and hit song writer
Yourusername - aw you think the songs a hit
LandoNorris - Duh, ofc it will be. I wrote it…?
Yourusername - Ok.
User26 - ‘My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again’ GIRL YOURE DOWN BAD
Yourusername - GIRL IK
Celebrity.sightings
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Liked by - User27 and 82,628 others | posted February 12th
Celebrity.sightings - Famous singers, Y/n Y/l/n (21) spotted out last night with Formula two racing driver Oscar Piastri (21), the two seemed quite happy and comfortable in each others company, apparently the two shared multiple kisses and were spotted out for dinner, all while trying (and failing) to evade paparazzi.
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User28 - IF THEY WAS TRYING TO AVOID PAPARAZZI WHY ARE YOU POSTING THE PICS
User29 - OMG DID ANYONE ELSE SEE THE VID OF THEM IN THE RESTAURANT???!??!?!
User30 - YES OMG WHEN HE KEPTS CALLING Y/N ‘MY LOVE’ EYGCHYECEHDEUNDEUJDEUDJRYH
User31 - THEYRE SO CUTE WHATTTT
User32 - SO THIS IS WHAT WAS HAPPENING DURING THE RADIO SILENCE AFTER SHE DROPPED ENCHANTED
User33 - Who is this vroom vroom man and how did he steal my girl 😩
User34 - Y/n’s fit eating as always tho
Yourusername
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Liked by - OscarPiastri, LandoNorris and 1,636,827 others | posted February 13th
Tagged | @/OscarPiastri
Yourusername - We were gonna do a soft launch but when you’re followed by paparazzi everywhere you go, things don’t always go to plan. But anyway, I love you Oscar, and I’m thankful that lando dragged me out of bed to come to that party cause I met you 💕
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User35 - OMGOMG
User36 - THE BLONDE AND BRUNETTE THEORY IS ALWAYS TRUE
User37 - I wanted a soft launch man I hate the paparazzi
OscarPiastri - Same
Yourusername - Same
LandoNorris - I’m always the reason for all of your happiness
Yourusername - you’re not wrong tbh
OscarPiastri - I love you 🤍
Yourusername - I love you more 💕
OscarPiastri
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Liked by - Yourusername, LoganSargeant and 473,728 others
Tagged | @/Yourusername
OscarPiastri - I was enchanted to meet you too, my love 🤍
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Yourusername - My god I love you so much
OscarPiastri - I love you so much more 🤍
———
458 notes · View notes
onyourowndaisymae · 1 year
Text
presenting the obey me brothers with friendship bracelets
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you know that feeling when you have a million other things to write but then one idea cuts to the front of the line and demands to be expelled from your brain? yeah that. that's what this is. i'm making bracelets for the eras tour and this idea came to me
[the dateables version]
[the dateables (+ luke) presenting you with a friendship bracelet]
content warnings: none
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prompt: you grin down at your work. in your hands is a small friendship bracelet, lovingly crafted from hard work and the embroidery thread you found in your closet. you weren't quite sure why you'd made it, but the thought of giving a certain someone the bracelet and watching their reaction made you smile. now, to hand it off...
Lucifer
lucifer definitely acts like it's a very childish thing that you've just presented to him. he raises an eyebrow and gives you an amused smirk.
he takes it from you and shoos you out of his office, warning you about all the paperwork he has to keep him busy. you never tied it for him, so you figure he's probably going to toss it in a desk drawer or something for safe keeping. that's okay. you're just happy he accepted the gift in the first place.
the real reason why you got kicked out is so he no longer had to hide the hopelessly fond, adoring look from you in response to your gift. it's simple and childish, yes, but it warms his heart that you made it for him. it's black, white, and red, made in a little stripe pattern. cute.
this little piece of braided string will sit on his desk for the rest of the night, where he can peek over at it when he gets overwhelmed.
you sort of assume the bracelet's been lost to the depths of lucifer's desk or sitting at the bottom of the trashcan. weeks pass before you think of it again.
but you do. you're reminded of your little gift to the morning star when lucifer is reaching out to something mid-conversation at RAD-- an unfamiliar flash of white peeks out from under his dark uniform sleeves. is that... is that the friendship bracelet you made him?
if you try to confront him about it, he will deny everything with that same stoic, slightly irritated look. he won't show you his wrist to prove he's not wearing it, though. softie.
Mammon
this man acts like you're soooo lucky that he's accepting a gift from you. he'll go on and on about how the great mammon usually prefers shiny jewelry, but it you insist--
if you try to take it back and walk off, he's yelling and chasing you down. you can't just take gifts back. that's cheating. hand it over! that white and gold bracelet belongs to him now, and the great mammon isn't going to let someone steal from him that easy.
his cheeks are red as you tie it on his wrist. for all that big talk about how he's doing you a favor by wearing a friendship bracelet for you, he's awfully quiet as he admires it on his wrist.
mammon wears the bracelet everyday. he will sometimes remember to take it off before showers and other stuff that might ruin it, but he also forgets a lot of the time. the bracelet ends up a bit dirty, but not horrible. well-loved, you might say.
if any demon at RAD tries getting a little too friendly with you, he won't hesitate to interrupt your conversation and not-so-subtly remind the other demon that he's the one with the friendship bracelet, not them. he'll pull down his sleeve and shove the bracelet in the demon's face until they get the message and walk away.
mammon will get very offended by you giving out other bracelets, by the way. he's a very jealous demon. you gave him the bracelet because you like him most, right? so why'd you start passing them out like halloween candy, huh? nah, that won't do. the great mammon demands another one to add to his collection. scratch that, make it two more. can't have anyone else think they can compare to your first man.
Leviathan
leviathan initially tries to talk you out of giving him the bracelet. surely you didn't mean to give it to someone like him, right? no, this must be a mistake. you must be thinking of asmo, or mammon, or beel or--
when you point out that you specifically made it for him, he shuts up. you explain the purple and teal colors are meant to match his hair and nails! that way it will always match his outfits, no matter what he wears.
suddenly he's a flurry of movement, wrapping his arms around you and thanking you so so much for being friends with a yucky, gross otaku shut in like him. you're the best henry he could have ever asked for. he's so caught up in the emotions of the moment that he forgets to panic when you first hug him back. a couple of seconds in, his brain reboots, and suddenly he's scuttling out of your personal bubble.
levi's near tears as you tie it on his wrist. don't worry, mc, he'll treasure it forever! this bracelet will remain on his wrist until time stops and hell freezes over. that's how much you mean to him!
you didn't think he actually meant it when he said he'd never take it off. that's why it's adjustable, y'know? but you were wrong. levi wears the bracelet everywhere. home. school. while sleeping. in the shower. while he's cosplaying. wherever he goes, you're certain that bracelet will be with him.
... but it's made of string, and very quickly gets nasty. he doesn't seem to notice, but you definitely do. you ultimately make him a replacement so that you won't have to keep looking at the damp, dingy thing on his wrist. he's just as touched as he was the first time. levi won't throw the original away, though. you compromise and let him keep it on one of his display shelves (even it it's still a bit gross).
Satan
when you present him with the green and teal friendship bracelet, he laughs. that's actually really sweet, mc. he's read stuff like this happening in those books with childhood friends growing up together, where the bracelet symbolizes an unbreakable bond carried into adulthood. it's cute. he's glad you thought of him.
as you tie the bracelet to his wrist and teach him how to take it on and off, he'll inquire about why you made it. have you ever given anyone else a friendship bracelet, or is he your first? how did you make it, anyways? would you be willing to show him?
the afternoon is lost to laughter and tales from both of your childhoods. satan's was a long, long time ago, but he's got six older brothers (by birth order, not fall order) that have told him stories of his youth through the years. would you be surprised to learn that he was a little hellion? no? well, he has no idea why you'd ever get the idea that he's anything but kind and calm and not at all the avatar of wrath. shame on you, mc. (his teasing would be a little bit more convincing if he didn't have that smile on his face-- the one he always has when he's with you.)
satan treats your friendship bracelet with care. he makes sure to take it off any time he does an activity that might get it dirty or otherwise soil it. he'll take it off for showers and slip it right back on afterwards, or keep it on his nightstand so he can put it back on when he returns from a formal event. satan also doesn't sleep with it on because he worries his tossing and turning might wear it down. sometimes he'll even use it as a bookmark when he's not wearing it.
he is very protective of this bundle of knots and strings. mammon once snatched a book from his room-- the book he just so happened to be reading, where he was using the bracelet as a bookmark before he went to bed-- and took the bracelet with it. you were able to step in just in time before satan lost his cool and went on a rampage. everyone knew from then on to leave that damn bracelet alone.
Asmodeus
asmodeus is delighted that you'd make something for him! the pink and red threads blends together so nicely, and is that a little spiral pattern on the outside? ooohh, you're just too cute! thank you, mc!
he will, in front of you, begin planning outfits around the bracelet. no long sleeves-- that'll hide the bracelet, and we don't want that! asmo wants everyone to be able to see it at all times. he can imagine the jealousy on his brother's faces as he shows off the exclusive gift he got from his beloved mc!
don't make anyone else a bracelet now too, alright dear? this sort of affection is all his. it's not as special if you make one for the rest of his lame brothers, now is it? if you want to make more, make them for him! he'll take as many as you'd be willing to make, darling.
if you do dare to make him another one, watch out. you've just opened pandora's box. now he's making requests-- will you do this color combo, mc? what about these? can you do that little stripe pattern on this one, and keep this one simple? the possibilities are endless, and (un)luckily for you, so is his imagination.
if you tell him that he can make his own bracelets, he'll pout. those wouldn't be friendship bracelets then, would they? they're only special because you make them, dearest. he'll pout until you relent, then shower you in as much affection as you'll accept to reward your never-ending kindness.
he's as disciplined with his bracelet routine as he is with every other part of his appearance. he takes it off for bathing and sleeping, so it won't get messed up without him noticing. if he has to go to a photoshoot or a formal event, he'll keep it tucked safely in his bag, so it's close to him at all times (and so none of his brothers get any ideas if they see it unattended).
Beelzebub
beel will probably be confused when you first present him with the gift. he's already holding out his wrist for you to tie it on, though. just because he doesn't understand doesn't mean he'd ever reject a gift from you.
when you explain what it is and its significance, he's all smiles. he's very happy that you want everyone to know the two of you are friends. he'll treasure it, mc. and he does-- he's very careful with it, careful to take it off when he thinks it might get dirty. he sets it gently on the nightstand or in his bag so it doesn't get tangled or lost.
then one day, tragedy strikes.
beel takes his bracelet off one day for fangol practice for safekeeping. he swore he slipped it into his bag, and yet when he gets home to unpack, it's nowhere to be seen. he's crushed. beel comes to break the news to you right away, with the sorrowful expression of someone that had just lost a loved one. he didn't mean to lose it. he hopes you'll forgive him, mc.
you comfort him and explain that you're not mad, not at all! accidents happen. you urge him to go shower and decompress after such a rough practice-- you'll handle the friendship bracelet situation. he (somewhat hesitantly) agrees and leaves your room with a solemn nod. you get to work crafting a new one with the same colors and technique. by the time he's out of the shower, you're coming to his room, replacement in hand.
beel is over the moon. he's quietly thanking you as you tie it on, promising that he'll be more careful with this one. his cheeks go pink with delight when you tell him you'll make him as many as he likes.
Belphegor
you proudly present belphegor with the physical embodiment of your friendship-- a purple and navy braided bracelet-- and he immediately begins clowning on you. really, mc? a friendship bracelet? what are you, seven? the thought of you toiling away over some colorful strings alone in your room makes him chuckle aloud.
fine then, jackass. maybe someone else would appreciate it more?
suddenly he's sitting up in bed. now, who told you that you could give away his present like that, hmm? does your friendship mean nothing? that's right, mc, get back here. that lame ass little bracelet is his.
for someone that made fun of you for making such a juvenile little gift, belphie doesn't seem very keen on taking it off anytime soon. the bracelet becomes frayed and ratty, dulled by time and messed up against blankets or bedsheets. tease him about it down the line and he'll scoff. first, he'll try to make fun of you for noticing such a thing. when that doesn't work, he'll complain that you tied the ends into a knot and now he can't get it off.
actually, ellen belphie, that's not true. you definitely showed him how to take it off the first time you put it on. you reach over and begin to tug at the ends when he yanks it away with a suspicious look. who said you could touch it, you little thief? get your own. it seems someone has grown quite fond of the bracelet in the past few weeks.
"what are you, seven?" you mock with a shit-eating grin. belphie ignores you and rolls back over. you don't neglect to notice the way he tucks his wrist-- the one with the bracelet-- close, hidden under a pillow or two. just try to take it now. just because he won't admit how much he likes it doesn't mean he won't fight tooth and nail to keep the little affectionate trinket on his person at all times.
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peonysgreenhouse · 28 days
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-`♡´- return.
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summary: the obey me datables & luke react to mc coming back to life!
tags: obey me datables (simeon, solomon, diavolo, barbatos) x gn!reader, luke & gn!reader, hurt/comfort, implied character death, mentions of violence in solomon's parts, solomon goes a little crazy teehee
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i. simeon
he sees you there, in the celestial realm. he had known your soul was pure from the very beginning, but seeing you among the angels was like a knife to his gut, a reminder of his failures to protect you. 
you weren’t supposed to be here, not now, at least. it was far too early for you to die. simeon can’t help but feel bitterness well up within him as you turn from michael to look for someone in the crowd (he knew it was him. he hoped it was him).
your features light up – simeon feels his heart skip a beat. even now you were just as he last remembered you, he had always taken the time to visit you in the devildom, even after his internship was over. you more beautiful than any angel he had ever seen. 
you embrace him tight, and the tighter you squeeze the more he feels like he can’t breathe, the combating feelings waging a war in his mind. he should’ve been watching over you; what kind of guardian angel was he to let his human die like this?
“i’m sorry,” he doesn’t know why his voice cracks when he says it. simeon? losing his composure? he had garnered many millennia of years of experience working to keep it up. “i’m sorry i didn’t protect you.”
“it’s okay simeon,” he feels your hands squeeze the back of his cloak. a wicked thought crosses his mind; maybe if you dug your nails in harder he would have some penance for his failures. if you cut through the bone and marrow and reached his heart then maybe his father would forgive him – maybe you would forgive him for his short-comings. “i’m here now.”
“right,” he breathes you in as if to convince himself. simeon feels the strength of his bond with you overwhelm him, he can feel how much you care for him and he feels his chest fill with warmth, chasing away his guilt, if for the moment. “you’re here forever. with me. nothing can hurt you here, i promise.”
ii. luke
luke had always told you to be mindful of demons, that they were evil creatures who would take any opportunity to kill you. it had seemed that his warning had proved true in the worst way. if only he hadn’t been a cherub; if uriel had promoted him to be your guardian angel like he had asked, maybe this could’ve been avoided.
but he was overwhelmed with how happy he was at the fact that you would be spending time with him forever in the celestial realm. he had wanted nothing more ever since you had become friends in the devildom. you were the one light for him in the exchange program.
“you’re here!” luke chirps, sprinting down the golden bricks of the road to the archangels’ house. “you’re really–!” you’re suddenly enveloped in a hug as luke wraps himself around your waist. 
“hello luke!” you smile from ear to ear, ruffling up his neat hair. usually, he’d make a comment about you not treating him like a child, but for now it seems he’s too busy nuzzling into you. “it’s good to see you again.”
“yes! i’m happy to see you,” he pulls away, cheeks visibly flushed. “i’m sorry that i wasn’t there to protect you from those mean old demons but… everything will be fine now that you’re here!”
“would you like to give them a tour of the celestial realm?” michael chimes in with a smile, the younger angel’s eyes lighting up like a christmas tree.
luke nods excitedly, taking your hand in his, already tugging you out of the estate: “we have so much to do! we can’t waste any time!”
iii. solomon
solomon spirals hard.
there was a reason solomon pushed everyone away, why most people in his life were kept an arms length apart. he got too attached to things; to power, to magic, to anything that gave him that needed adrenaline rush… why would you be any different? you, the only person he has ever loved had been snatched out of his hands.
and worst of all, he had been powerless to save you. 
all the magic and demon pacts and connections in the world couldn’t stop you from bleeding out in his arms. humans like you were much too fragile for his liking; he had worked tirelessly his whole life to be anything but.
if he couldn’t get what he wanted from the damned, he would have to turn his eyes to the celestial realm. if he had to tear down the heavens and bring you crashing back down to earth, he’s sure he would. 
making bonds with angels was much more difficult than that of demons, but he found after nights of endless research that plucking a few of their feathers would get them to sing. 
he’s covered in golden ichor when he manages to bring you back – a life for a life. he finally was able to do it, not only to bring a human back to life, but to bring you back. solomon rises, shakily, as you feel your body materialize out of the magic sigil etched into the floor. he smiles gently, looking at you as if you were the only thing that mattered.
so why do you look back at him with such horror?
iv. diavolo
he had bargained with the archangels before, but never for a life.
in all accounts, a human choosing to leave the celestial realm and go to the devildom was unheard of. being cast out of heaven was notoriously the worst punishment anyone could receive.
but you do, you would always choose him over all the luxuries and beauty of the heavens every single time. it was true that love made people do stupid things.
michael sends you back to the devildom months after diavolo’s terms were set, a gift with the price of owing the ruler of the celestial realm a favor. michael was known for his kindness, but diavolo knew that there was more to him than that. he was smart enough to know that michael would never jeopardize the devildom, but angels never forgot debts owed. it was a risk, but one diavolo had no choice but to take. 
above all the benevolence and good-will he draped himself in, at his core, he was a selfish demon; perhaps moreso than anyone else in the devildom. 
he holds you against his chest the whole night. in the morning, he’d have duties and meetings to go to. but for now, you were his. 
“little one,” he mumbles into your hair, hands tight around your waist, “make a pact with me. that you may be at my side forevermore.”
v. barbatos
in so many other timelines he sees you, shining, alive. he starts to resent the other versions of himself for being happy with you (or even worse, happy with any of the others). barbatos could pull you out as easily as he could breathe; he had a mastery over his powers that other lower demons could only imagine. 
but it wouldn’t be the same, he reminds himself, it wouldn’t be his version of you. 
he knew the way to get you back, it’d be to break his own rule: do not interact with the past. diavolo had given him permission to bring you back, it would be a stain on the exchange student program if one of the humans came back dead after the second semester. but he wasn’t so sure, what if the you he brought back wasn’t the you he remembered? 
barbatos does it anyways, knowing he can’t refuse an order from his lord. the you in the celestial realm will be erased from existence replaced with the you of the past, the one who doesn’t know what it’s like to die. the two can only hope it doesn’t cause drama in the celestial realm.
“barbatos?” you question as you walk in the gardens with him, completely oblivious to it all. if he hadn’t been so happy that you had returned, he would feel guilty for not telling you of your death. sometimes, ignorance was bliss. “are you okay? you seem more quiet than usual.”
“do i?” he muses, forcing a soft smile for you. “i’m afraid i’m simply just a bit tired. sleep evaded me last night.” the last part wasn’t a lie.
“sorry to hear that,” you pout, “if you want to go nap, you should!
“do you not wish to spend time with me?”
“it’s not that…” you kick at the ground, arms crossed behind your back. “it’s just we have all the time in the world though, right? i want you to be rested when we’re together.”
he feels as if you’ve struck him with an arrow to his chest. barbatos sees your lifeless body in his mind, did you know and were trying to taunt him? or were you simply just this sweet?
“i suppose you’re right.” he nods his head, “but you’re coming with me.”
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lady-ashfade · 4 months
Text
Blood And Pressure
Part two
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Yandere!Pjo x Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)
-♡ Chapter: Previous // Next
-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase.
-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that's all really (maybe more in the future!)
-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really.Just that they are older teens.
-♡ I will be imagining Charlie Bushnell as Luke.
-♡warning : short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking. slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting. platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out.
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This was the best moment of your life. The camp was beautiful. You got to see real people training together, not just the ones that come into the infirmary. And Percy was just as amazed as you. It was cool to see someone your own age being new to camp, and that you could use him to get yourself out of that damn house.
Percy made you smile with his small jokes and comments about the place. Which caused Chiron to look between you two without you knowing. You never looked so happy.
“There is a place for you,” chiron points to one of the cabins. A flag hanging from the roof was Hermes and you smile, they welcomed everyone. Many kids ended up in the infirmary after their pranks and you loved to hear the stories.
Percy was to go into the cabin and start his new life while you had to watch and then go back. Of course you were happy for him to have a place. But it would go back to being alone.
“What about y/n?” Percy turned to you with a brow raised. “Don’t you have a cabin?” Before you could answer, the centaur answered for you.
“She is not a Demigod,” he moved his hooves closer and puts a hand on your shoulder. You sigh and nod, “she stays with us. Now say your goodbyes.”
Pushing everything you felt back you mange to give the boy a big smile, “good luck Percy.” And his name in your mouth lift him smitten along with your smile.
He couldn’t wrap his head around why you were here to just stay in the big house. This was a camp for half-bloods and you weren’t one…he wasn’t sure what you were. So why keep you locked up?
“I think y/n should see the inside.” He turn his gaze to the larger man. You could see the mischief on his face.
“I mean, you said you’d give them a tour and haven’t showed them what the insides look like? I think you should keep to your word.”
You cover your mouth with a giggle and he finds himself taking another glance at you with growing pride. However Chiron wasn’t as happy about this because he wanted to get you home and away from everyone…just like the oracle said to.
“I agree, now if you’ll excuse us.” You turn your head and grab ahold of Percy’s hand and start to walk to the cabin door. You had a mission to see everything that you could!
Percy turned brighter by each second and followed you with a clouded head. He stares at the way your hand felt on his. Maybe he could find a way to keep you with him at all time. His chest filled with butterflies and he couldn’t help but to squeeze your hand back as you pull him along.
The cabin was full of campers and bunks crowded around everywhere. You didn’t know what you were expecting but this wasn’t it. I mean the cabin should have been much bigger with the amount of kids that came in, even Hermes had many kids. Just for a second you felt out of place until your eyes set upon another…ones you have looked into before.
Eyes that looked at you many times, the only boy you had a conversation with before. With a scar running across his cheek.
“Well, aren’t we lucky.” The boy stepped closer to you both. His lips curled into a smirk as everyone else the cabin turn to look at you both. The mystery girl and the new boy who took down a minotaur. A odd pair to be seen together.
Percy tightened his hold on your hand at the way he was looking into your eyes and inching closer. Who was this guy? If only he could throw his arm around you to show he already had his claim.
“Luke Castellan.” The slightly taller boy introduced himself. His eyes looked away from you and he was met with percy harsh gaze. The only one now to stop the contest they seemed to have was Chiron who walked behind you.
Camp seemed to get more interesting by the second.
Taglist: @maria699669 @gorgeourrific-nerd @targaryenluvs @theaaeht @dabalyuteeeftia @alliriseabove
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beforeimdeceased · 7 months
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I’m actually in LOVE with crybaby!!! It’s so good😫😫😫
CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT8, FINAL PART!
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pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.
synopsis: you weren’t you anymore.
a/n: it’s so over…thank you all for the love you’ve shown crybaby! i’m happy to say i’m actually proud of something i’ve written, for the first time in a long time. thank you for reading and for all your comments and support! tags: @skylerwhitwyo
you’re a crisis of my faith
masterlist.
you weren’t you anymore. you weren’t you when abby opened the door to find you and ellie tangled together in an illicit affair. you weren’t you when you looked into her eyes, saw the pain and agony, and asked her if she didn’t mind closing the door. that you were busy doing something.
you weren’t you because you didn’t chase after her when she left. because you didn’t apologize, you just went on as you were. forgetting. you went on forgetting all the way home in her car. melting the pain away, filling the silence with meaningless conversation she was too upset to engage in. knuckles white while she gripped the steering wheel.
you’re not yourself.
at first it was fun to let go with ellie. she liked that you didn’t care anymore. that you could joke around with each other. that she didn’t have to walk on eggshells with you. or atleast, that’s how she felt. until she was missing you on tour one night.
alone in a bar, waiting for dina and jesse, she came across someone that looked as doe eyed as you used to be. her heart started to sink when she skipped over.
another bar, years ago. when you’d caught her after another show in which she’d made a mistake. you came to her with flowers from a fan and a note. “hey ellie this is—“
“fuck i’m such a fucking idiot.” she blurts. you sigh, anticipating a string of curses and insults, but she sees the note and the flowers. “what’s this?”
“it’s a note from a fan, she didn’t get to catch you before you ran off.”
she holds her hand out and you place the piece of paper in it. standing as you hold the flowers. watching her read it.
this is the first concert i’ve been to in a while and i just want to say thank you so much. i struggle a lot with social anxiety and big crowds and stuff but i really wanted to see you. i’ve been a fan since i found your guy’s cover of take on me on soundcloud and it struck a deep chord within me. you’re amazing, you know that, but i just wanted to tell you that. just in case you forget.
— your biggest fan
you hand her the flowers, pretending not to see her tears. pretending not to feel teary eyed yourself. because you’d never seen her sad cry. you’ve seen her angry cry plenty of times, but never fix her face into a frown and let the strains of tears overflow. you look away as sadness fills the space between you.
“you’re ellie williams right?” the doe eyed girl brings her back to the present. she nods. “in the flesh.”
it only took a couple drinks and ellie’s charms to lure her away from the crowded area. nestled in the corner of the bar, ellie latching her mouth onto the girls neck. imagining your body in place of hers. pretending her moans were yours. wishing that she was you.
she’d felt dirty after she finished, a feeling that was entirely new to her. you both weren’t obligated to only be with each other after that night in the bathroom, but she couldn’t get you out of her mind. maybe it was because the girl reminded her of you? then she remembered that you weren’t like that anymore. that you had completely changed.
when tour ended and the group returned home, you took it upon yourself to throw a party. the old you would have gone for a small get together at your house, with the three of them and donuts, but the new you was leaning towards some club soirée.
you were excited to show everyone more of the new you. a new style to match your new personality. a new way of living to replace your old one. completely killing the girl you’d been before.
you met them at dina and jesse’s place, ensuring you’d be there the second they got off the tour bus. excitedly rushing over to give them a hug, and ellie an awkward handshake. they look you up and down, taking in your changed appearance with concern. “new clothes?” jesse speaks up.
“new me.” you shrug, helping them carry their bags up.
when everything is settled in, they all grab a seat on the couch. you slump into their loveseat, sighing. “so there’s this party...”
dina shakes her head. “no no absolutely not. i love you, but god we’re exhausted. no party tonight.”
“it’s tomorrow. it’s your welcome back party.” the corner of your mouth twitches. “i want to sleep for atleast a week.” dina huffs. “i need to go shower right now actually.” she gets up, placing a kiss on your forehead when she passes by. jesse does the same, following behind her.
you don’t take offense to it. this might’ve hurt you a little bit in the past, feeling stupid for planning a party when it’d make sense that they want to rest. now, you didn’t care. you could party by yourself. you could party with ellie.
you look over at her, and she looks like a wounded stray. like she’s guilty of something she didn’t do. you get up and join her in place of the lovebirds. a wide smile on your face. “are you gonna come to the party?”
she breathes. “maybe. i don’t know yet.”
it’s silent for a beat. you pull out your phone and she remembers the day she took it. the agony in your voice when you were asking for it back. the day she made you cry. she shakes away the thought.
“how about we play a game?”
the peace you were experiencing in the moment felt foreign. it’s been years since you had a chance to have quality time with ellie. without her ruining it, ofcourse. it was almost like those first few weeks back when you met. playing all the board games lodged in the bookshelf of jesse’s parent’s place. before him and dina had moved in together.
these were those very same games. monopoly, sorry, connect four, and more. you settled on connect floor, crisscrossing your legs on the floor. she joins you, getting comfortable.
“i’ll keep score!” you offer, going to your phone’s notes. before you can do much about it, you realize that it’s shutting off because the battery is low. you lodge it into your back pocket and shrug, grabbing an empty envelope off of the couples counter. “my phones dead, i’ll just write it.”
then you’re making a t chart, and ellie feels as if all the air is being kicked out of her lungs. your handwriting is the same as the one that was on that letter.
but that can’t be true, right? this is the same fan who’s been writing her for years. this is handwriting that’s been on signs held up at shows. the handwriting on a small cluster of loyal groupie’s handmade tshirts.
but surely she’d have noticed this before. you’d written in front of her before, right? memories were fuzzily being put back together in the moment. your unfiltered and unconditional love for her. your kindness that you’d extended even when she was mean to you. even when she was cruel.
even when you’d had enough of the tear filled nights and decided you needed time away. you still asked how ellie was, she could hear it on the other side of the fucking phone. when you were talking to dina and jesse. when you were communicating love through them to her.
you called all those rehab centers to get her help, that’s how jesse had found one so fast. you left her meds on the table for her the next morning, not dina. it was your voice telling her she’d had enough. it was you, being brave enough to take her verbal lashings because you knew if she didn’t take it out on you, she would take it out on herself.
it was you, it was always you. she was remembering now.
“ellie?”
you look away from the paper to find her crying. crying because the you that was always there, had slipped between her nimble fingers. had melted into the cracks of hatred. she was crying because she realized why she was feeling out of sorts. she hadn’t gotten a letter this week.
a letter from—well, you.
she wanted to yell at you. to scream at you. to call you stupid for staying around when you know how she is. she wanted to curse herself for getting you to let your guard down with a fake apology, and fucking it up all over again. for pushing you past your breaking point.
“i don’t wanna play anymore.” she felt disgusting. she felt like she was going to be sick. “ellie what’s the matter—“
she’s hyperventilating now, watching as you slowly slide towards her. extending your arms while you try to catch her in a hug. she thought back to the days she called you useless. called you pathetic. called you a crybaby.
you hold her, and it’s the first time she’s ever truly felt held. the first time she’s in your arms and she’s sober. the first time she’s in your arms and she feels sorry. truly, terribly sorry.
you pull her in closer to you, turning her onto her side so you can rub your thumb across her cheek. wiping some of her tears away. she begins to cry even harder, but you don’t push her away. even when your pants are soaked and snotty. you let her lay there, and cry into you.
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When the Corroded Coffin makes it, Eddie leans into the success completely. He can't really help it, he never thought he'd make it anywhere, wouldn't even have a moderately comfortable life and now he's here, people love him, want him, think he's worth their time. It's intoxicating and he feels like if he slows down for just a second, he'll lose it all.
Steve is supportive, of course he is. It's everything Eddie's ever wanted, success in the world and the most amazing person at home, loving him unconditionally. But Eddie grows more and more frantic about his work, tours, everything. He loves Steve so much, he talks about him in awards ceremonies, in interviews and credits him as his forever muse that he maybe forgets a little that random people who he'll never meet hear more about his love for his boyfriend than Steve himself.
Maybe if he took a moment to think, Eddie would have remembered that Steve was left alone for most of his teenage years, that the love he had was real but distant. That this love always stopped him from asking for more, asking for time spent together, for actions, not words. But he didn't.
After many dinners wrapped in cellophane and tossed in the fridge, postponed dates, hurried goodbye kisses and whispered promises over the phone that never come true, it happens. Steve doesn't blame him, doesn't scream or snap, but Eddie would have preferred if he did. He just calmly tells him that he loves him, will always love Eddie and he can't imagine there being anyone else, but he finally realized that while he's happy for Eddie, he can't live through someone else's dream. He needs, wants more than another empty house and waiting, so much waiting. He kisses Eddie goodbye and whispers, "I'm so happy you managed to break your cycle, Eddie. The crime, poverty...I'm so proud of you. But now I need to break my own."
---
As Steve fully settles in his own apartment almost a year later, heart aching but finally not paralyzed, he turns on the radio and hears a familiar voice, like the sweetest pain. He sings a new song, one that Steve doesn't know.
I painted your room at midnight
So I'd know yesterday was over
I put all your books on the top shelf
Even the one with the four leaf clover
Man, I'm getting older
I took all your pictures off the wall
And wrapped them in a newspaper blanket
I haven't slept in what seems like a century
And now I can barely breathe
Just like a crow chasing the butterfly
Dandelions lost in the summer sky
When you and I were getting high as outer space
I never thought you'd slip away
I guess I was just a little too late
Your words still serenade me
Your lullabies won't let me sleep
I've never heard such a haunting melody
Oh, it's killing me
You know I can barely breathe
Just like a crow chasing the butterfly
Dandelions lost in the summer sky
When you and I were getting high as outer space
I never thought you'd slip away
I guess I was just a little too late
The last soft tones finish and Steve takes a deep breath, shaky and uncertain. He loves his new life, loves what he's doing, studying to save lives, and yet...
It's almost funny. They broke up a year ago, yet Eddie never left him behind. There was no pressure to get back together, no unwanted declarations of love, just...showing. Steve told Eddie that he needed actions, not words, and here he was, for a year, giving Steve the space he needed but always checking in, always making sure Steve was okay.
Eddie's words were his actions and Steve finally understands how to break his own cycle. Being alone doesn't mean he's lonely. Not when Eddie's thoughts never leave him.
Not when he remembers the four leaf clover he scribbled into his textbook.
When he says he always thinks of Steve when seeing dandelions, so bright and comforting, like home.
The nights they spent together, drunk on each other's presence.
And the melody Steve always hummed when he got out of shower.
He reaches for his phone, their careful messages blinking at him, making him wonder how this love can feel so distant yet so real.
I hope your classes are going well, Stevie.
Wayne says hi. He says he'll call you next Tuesday.
I hope you found what you were looking for.
I hope you're happy.
I'm thinking about you, always.
He types something cheesy and ridiculous, but he can't help himself. He just feels loved, seen.
What if I told you that you aren't too late, crow?
His phone dings back almost immediately and he smiles.
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multi-kpop-fanfics · 5 months
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Cheol struggling to relinquish control after leading on tour so you offer to take one thing off his mind (read: tying cheol to his bed because I wanna hear him whine and see his cute eyebrows while he tries not to come xx)
tw: sub!seungcheol, soft dom!reader (fem), bondage, marking, nipple play, praise, body worship, established relationship, mentions of unprotected sex (pls stay safe) - minors dni.
happy birthday @delicatewerewolfsoul ilysm🥰
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"Is it really necessary to do that?"
"Yes. Otherwise you'll try to think of a million ways to turn things to your advantage." You tighten the cuffs around your boyfriend's wrists, mentally thanking yourself for buying a bed with metal bedframe instead of a wooden one.
"But you like it when I take care of you!" Seungcheol pouts, testing the endurance of the handcuffs. "Damn, these are stronger than I thought."
"Babe, I know you're a person fit to lead people, but I want to take care of you as well." You shush him with your pointer finger on his lips. "Now lay back and let go of your worries, okay?"
He gulps heavily and nods affirmatively, his torso relaxing on the bed.
You were smart enough to get rid of his t-shirt during your earlier make out session, otherwise it would have gotten in the way with his hands tied to the headboard.
You climb over him and flash a sickeningly sweet smile before leaning down to press a slow peck on his lips. Seungcheol lifts his head to chase your lips, but you softly push him back.
"I know you can behave, Cheol. So please, for your own sake," you ghost your lips over his jawline, "Behave."
"F-Fine." He grits his teeth to suppress a moan when he feels your mouth nipping at the skin right between the column of his neck and his jaw, knowing he'll wake up the next day with raging red marks.
You continue descending your mouth over his neck, licking and sucking on his skin until you hear your boyfriend whine.
"Never thought you were able to make a sound like that." You raise your head, chuckling at his neediness.
"Stop it." Seungcheol pouts and turns his head away from embarrassment.
"Hmm, I don't think I will." You giggle and lick your thumbs, placing them over his nipples to rub them in slow circles.
"Oh fuck," he rolls his head back on the pillow, his cock twitching under your stomach.
"Already so worked up, baby? That's cute."
"Y/N, please, don't stop touching me, fuck."
You smirk and let your fingers dance over his taut abs, tracing every ridge and curve of the well-defined muscles. You can feel them contracting with every touch you deliver and it only gets more intense the lower you get.
You decide to put your boyfriend out of his misery and strip him of his sweats and boxers in one go, gasping when his cock slaps against his stomach, rock hard and dripping precum.
"Oh, you poor thing."
"I said stop mocking me!" Seungcheol whines even louder, his body thrashing forward.
"I'm not! I didn't know how bad you had it until now!" You defend yourself, feigning innocence.
"I've created a monster, haven't I?"
"Perhaps." You grin and hook your fingers on the elastic band of your panties, sliding them down your legs and throwing them away somewhere in the room.
You take his cock in your hand, giving it a few pumps before lining it with your soaked entrance. You slowly lower yourself on his shaft, letting out a long drawn moan when you fully sheathe yourself, your walls clenching around his thickness.
"Mmm, God really gave you the best dick in the world." You drag your nails over his lower stomach.
"And He gave you the best pussy in the world, fuck." Seungcheol moans, his gaze heavy with lust, only for you.
"Good thing you're dating me then."
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thisreadswhatever · 7 months
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The Chase: Part One
Pretty Sweet
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series masterlist
[description]: jax teller x female reader
[wordcount]: 2.7k+
[summary]: Jax Teller is used to getting what he wants. At least that was the case before he met you.
[cw]: 18+ only minors do not interact - AU, follows some canon characters & themes but timeline is different. otherwise none yet, but stick with me, I have a smutty plan!
[authors note]: this has been really fun to write. thank you so much to this anon for requesting this idea! I plan on writing a good few parts of this.. as I am really loving writing this reader insert. if you have any ideas or suggestions on where you would like this to go, please let me know! I absolutely love getting your suggestions. I really hope you enjoy!
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It had been a long sixteen hour drive. You sighed with relief as you sped past the large wooden slice, “WELCOME TO CHARMING”. You rolled your windows down, the wind blistering through your hair as you took in the warm California sun. 
You turned the music up, attempting to drown out the events replaying in your head that led you here in the first place. 
Charming wasn’t exactly on your bucket list of places to travel. Your parents had split a few years back, after your mom decided she could no longer handle the baggage that came with the Sons of Anarchy MC. Your Dad was an avid member of the Denver Charter, and she soon realised she couldn’t sit back and watch as he grew deeper into the Club. It was a quick and amicable divorce, made easier by the fact you were an only child and more than understanding of why the relationship had to end. You were old enough to see the pain your mom went through trying to make it work, and you knew that it was the best decision for them both. Your Dad on the other hand, never really got over it. 
When your mom remarried last year, he decided to leave Colorado and transferred to the SAMCRO Charter. Charming was his home now. He’d been begging you to visit him for months, and despite the fact you were genuinely pleased that he was happy, seeing him so far from home and content without his family wasn’t something you’d looked forward too. 
Charming was a small place, and from what your Dad had told you, it had never really left the seventies. Denver was the total opposite, a city full of life and people, and ever growing with new expanding chains of business. Even with the freezing winters, there was always something to do in Denver. But Charming? They barely had a population of fifteen thousand. 
You had evaded the trip for as long as you could, blaming college assignments and exams for the reason you couldn’t make the drive. Now that you’d graduated, the excuses had run thin, and it was time to visit your Dad in Charming. 
You pulled into the road of the address he had given you, entering a long unpaved driveway that ended on the outside of a dainty cabin. Your Dad’s bike was parked stagnant on the dirt. You dug your suitcase out from your trunk and walked up the wooden steps to the porch, bringing your hand to the door to knock. Before your knuckles could meet the wood, the door flung wide and your Dad lunged at you with open arms. 
“You’re finally here!”, he squealed in excitement as he grasped you into a giant bear hug.
“‘Finally’ is right. That was a serious drive, Dad.”
He took your suitcase and carried it through the entryway. “Sure is. I’m so glad you got here safely, kiddo. Come on, let’s get you settled. You hungry? I was just about to make some lunch.”
You followed him inside as you observed the interior of the quaint, dusty cabin. “I could definitely eat.” 
Your Dad showed you to your room and then became sidetracked from lunch, giving you a full tour of his new home and the complete low down of all things SAMCRO. He’d explained that the place was owned by the Club, but nobody ever frequented it unless they were in hiding. Your Dad was housed here for the long term, or at least until he could find something he liked better inside the Charming suburbs. 
Once he’d caught you up, he made his start on lunch. You watched as he strolled throughout the kitchen, sitting patiently at the small round dining table. 
“It’s a nice place, Dad. Not sure how I feel that you’re out here all alone though.”
“I’m barely here, kiddo. Spend most of my time down the Clubhouse.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he continued to make sandwiches, dropping a piece of turkey in the process. “I can’t wait for you to meet the guys, y/n. A lot more warm than the ones up in Denver. Some of them are your age too.” He placed the plate in front of you, and you grimaced at the site. Your Dad had never claimed to be a great chef. 
“Thanks.” You smiled at him politely, taking a bite and struggling to swallow down the piece of dry sandwich. “I’m sure they’re great, Dad.”
“So, how’s your mom?” 
You shrugged dismissively, unsure how to broach the uncomfortable topic of the newly weds. “She’s doing well. Mike is good to her.” 
He nodded. “That’s good. I’m really glad she’s happy.” 
It was hard to see your Dad try to be okay with the fact that your mom had moved on. The awkward silence was interrupted by his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up from the table. “Finish lunch and we can head on out. The guys are getting together at the Clubhouse tonight, you can meet them all there.”
You knew an evening with a bunch of Californian bikers was going to be inevitable during your trip. At least you could get it over with on the first night. 
“Sounds great, Dad.” 
You weren’t thrilled to be back in the confines of your car so soon after your long road trip, but your Dad knew better than to ask you to sit on the back of his motorcycle.
You rolled the windows down of your car as you followed his bike through the winding road from the cabin. As you re-entered Charming, you passed by locally run stores and cafes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was a quiet, peaceful town. But you did know better. You knew what the Club’s presence actually meant for a small community like Charming. If SAMCRO was anything similar to the Denver Charter, the underworkings of this town would be anything but quiet and peaceful. 
You pulled into the lot of Teller-Morrow Automotive Repairs, instantly drawn to the huge row of Harley motorcycles lined up on the inner bays.
Your Dad parked up and met you outside your car, telling you all about his new job in the garage as you walked together. He led you across the lot towards a small black door, entering into the SAMCRO clubhouse. It was impressive, a comfortable space with its own bar and lounge area. The place was full of MC memorabilia and pictures from the club’s long history. The furthest wall was centered by two large double doors that were surrounded by mugshots of the SAMCRO members. You had visited the Denver Clubhouse enough to know that room was where the decisions were made.
Your Dad introduced you one by one to several members that were there, a few of which he’d mentioned to you that afternoon. Bobby, Chibs, Trager, Juice and Opie all greeted you with open arms. They were extremely friendly and welcoming, just as your father had promised. The one your Dad called Trager seemed very pleased with your arrival, hugging you for a little too long. Your Dad managed to break the long embrace, pulling you away to start touring you around the building. 
“Don’t get too close to that one, kiddo. He’s a little out there.” 
You giggled as you nodded in agreement, “I’ll keep my distance.” 
You sat alongside the club’s Secretary, Bobby, on a leather bench that faced out with a view of the entire room. You observed as the Clubhouse filled with more members and women, a handful of which were old ladies. The rest of them, very clearly single. Of all the members you’d met so far, Bobby had been the easiest to talk to. He clued you in on some of the Club’s legitimate businesses, Cara Cara and Red Woody Productions. You figured that’s where most of the girls came from, retired and current porn stars. 
It was a little strange, and anyone else may have felt uneasy seeing their father in this kind of environment. But you were used to the life of girls and guns from growing up with a dad in a motorcycle club. The Denver Charter had its fair share of women in and out of their doors, but mainly just bartenders and the odd crow eater looking for a way in. These girls were more forward, scantily clothed, makeup on point, and obviously comfortable with their surroundings.  
Bobby nudged your shoulder, regaining your attention from the party happening around you. “You know your Dad talks about you constantly. He’s so happy that you’re here, kid. We all are.” 
You glanced over at your father, a huge smile forming as he collected a drink from the bar. 
“He does seem happy. Just weird seeing him away from home.” 
“You got a home here with us too now, y/n.” He placed his arm over you and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, “we’re your family as much as we are his.” 
“That’s really sweet, Bobby. Thanks.” 
He pulled his arm back as he chuckled to himself, his large stomach bellowing as he laughed. “I am pretty sweet.” 
Suddenly, the front door opened and a roar of drunken welcomes filled the clubhouse as two more members entered. The President of SAMCRO, Clay Morrow, walked in smiling ear to ear, hands held up as though he was a celebrity greeting his adoring fans. You’d heard a lot about Clay from your father, mainly that he was the initial sponsor for his transfer from Denver, and some remarks about what an ass he was. Behind him, a much younger member followed, embracing Opie as he entered. He was different from the other members, not totally clean cut, but you could at least tell he had showered. Not only was he bathed, he wasn’t harsh on the eyes either. You watched as he talked with Opie, his hands pushing his long blonde hair behind his ears as he spoke. 
“Who’s that?” You asked Bobby, your eyes never feigning from the man. 
“That’s Jax. Club’s VP.” 
As you watched him converse with Opie, he suddenly glanced your way, locking eyes with you. You quickly turned away from him and back towards Bobby. 
“He looks a little young to be Vice President”, you mumbled as you took a swig from your beer, still conscious that he was looking at you. 
Bobby laughed, “Yeah, well, he’s a Teller. His Dad was First 9 alongside Clay and Piney Winston, Ope’s pops. Jax has been SAMCRO since he came out of the womb.” 
You raised your eyebrows, glancing back over your shoulder. Jax’s attention had now been obtained by one of the Cara Cara girls. She was pulling him in by his cutte, batting her eyelashes at him as she leaned against the bar. 
Bobby watched as you observed Jax. He sipped his drink, amused by your interest. “He’s known for his way with the ladies.” 
You wanted to press Bobby further, but your Dad suddenly was stumbling over beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
“Come on over here, kid. I want you to meet my sponsor.” 
“The asshole?”, you whispered to him as you stood up from the chair.
He snickered back at you, patting you on the back. “He’s having a good day.” 
You were impressed by the brotherhood the Redwood Originals shared. It wasn’t unfamiliar to the Denver Charter, but the way the members of SAMCRO loved one another was palpable. You observed quietly throughout the night as they all ripped into each other with lighthearted banter and spilled beer all over the place. You were conflicted by the fact your Dad fit in so well here. It was painful to know he had chosen this life over one with you in Denver, but you still felt at peace knowing he had found a place in this family. 
He was now slumped over a leather armchair in the lounge, snoozing after one too many beers. You nudged his shoulder, trying to wake him. “I’m gonna head back to the cabin, Dad. I’ll meet you here in the morning?” 
“You sure, y/n?” He tried to stand up as he slurred, but his balance failed him, collapsing back into the seat. “I can lead you back-” 
You chuckled, placing a hand on his head as he closed his eyes, “No way are you getting on a bike in this state. I remember the way.” 
Tig overheard and slid himself beside you, placing an arm across your waist. “We’ll take care of him, sweetie. Don’t you worry. Get back safe, okay?”
You unwound from his grasp, collecting your bag from the coffee table as you searched through the contents for your keys. “Thanks Trager.”
A strange laugh left his throat as he watched you leave, before his face turned straight as a board. “Call me Tig.” 
You said your goodbyes to the members that were sober enough to communicate, and made your way to the parking lot. 
Jax Teller was sitting outside the clubhouse, journal and pencil in hand. He glanced up at the sound of the door opening, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips.
He smiled boldly, in a way that perplexed you. Almost like he was happy to see you, even though you’d never met. He took the cigarette from his lips as he asked, “you’re Ralph’s kid, right?”
“I usually just go by y/n.”
He placed his pencil inside the journal and tucked it snug in his cutte, standing from the bench. “It’s a nice thing you’re doing, coming all this way to see him.”
You nodded, “had to make sure my Dad wasn’t living with some crazed psychopaths, you know?” 
He exhaled, his lips forming a perfect O as the smoke left his lips. “Pretty sure a few of those knuckleheads could pass for psychotic”, he teased. His mouth pulled into an infectious smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 
Jax walked closer towards you, your bodies now inches apart. He held out an open pack of cigarettes, prompting you to take one. You shook your head, declining the offer.
 “And what about you? How’s your level of sanity?” 
Jax hesitated. “A work in progress.” 
You smiled politely as you walked past him, making your way to the car. “Anyway, I was just leaving. Was nice meeting you.” 
Jax’s brow creased in concern, “you heading to the cabin on your own?” 
You looked over your shoulder to see him pacing behind you, flicking his cigarette to the cement.
“My Dad’s not exactly in riding order.” 
“I can take you back.” 
You stopped outside your car and turned to him, scoffing at how forward he was. “I met you thirty seconds ago.”
“So?” He shrugged. 
“I don’t really think that’s appropriate.” 
“I’m not asking to get in bed with you, y/n. You can ride the Harley with me and I’ll leave the second you’re in the cabin.” 
You opened the car door, sliding into the seat. “Not gonna happen.” 
“I won’t lay a hand on ya, darlin’,” he raised his hand up, smiling, “scouts honor.” 
You pressed your lips together, suppressing yourself from giggling at his innocent gesture. “I don’t ride bikes.” You affirmed. 
Jax cocked his head at you, confused at the statement. “Denver girl’s scared of bikes?” 
Your eyes rolled at his assumption. “No offense, but I just met you. I’m not sure my safety is your concern.” You shut the car door, realising your window had been left ajar from the way there. You wanted to curse aloud that the good Californian weather enabled the opportunity to ride with the windows down.
Jax didn’t push further, nodding his head as he watched you settle into the driver's seat. “No offense taken.”
Jax leaned his head into the open window, resting his arms on the roof of the car. You turned the ignition, letting the engine roar to life. “Nice to meet you, Jax.” 
“You too, darlin’. Will I see you again?” 
You were looking directly at him, your faces parted only by the frame of the window between you. “I’m here for the week, darlin’.” 
His lips pulled from ear to ear, smiling playfully as you put the gear in reverse, forcing his hands off the car as you pulled out of the parking lot. You peaked in the rear-view mirror, finding Jax still watching you drive away into the Charming night.
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