#give me a few days 2 readjust

[evie-sturns]

𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱 - 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

summary: it's your special day, your 20th birthday! chris hasn't given you a present all day, and nothing seems to be going to plan, but he makes up for it later.

contains: public sex, smut, fluff, soft dom!chris, swearing, crying.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

8:54am

i wake up to chris planting kisses all over my face, a stupid grin painted across his face.

"chriss.." i groan, rubbing my eyes as i sit up in our double bed.

"happy birthday!!" he says, pulling me by my arms up onto the floor, im so unstable i stumble over.

my birthday has always been my favorite day of the year, everyones attention were on me, it was just going to be a stress-free day with my friends, my boyfriend and his brothers.

"shit." chris says, picking me back up, holding me in a bridal position. "you excited!!" he says, placing me back down on my feet

"love you chris." i smile, walking over to the wardrobe and pulling out the outfit ive had planned for days.

ive known chris for 11 years, he was my bestfriend until 1 year ago, when he became my boyfriend.

i strip off my pyjamas, leaving me revealed as i scramble through the shelves to find underwear.

i feel chris's eyes laying on me, "you feel elderly yet?" he says, breaking the comfortable silence.

i scoff "very."

"you look good for how old you are" chris jokes, walking over to my side.

i see his hand reach out, but he pauses instantly when the door rattles. "y/n!" i hear nick call out, i can hear the smile on his face.

"im butt naked right now nick, ill be out in a few!" i call out, chris shakes his head with a grin painted across his face.

"gross." i hear nick say back, slightly quieter this time.

"nick its 9 in the morning what do you take me for!" i say, pulling up my skirt, and readjusting my tanktop. i get on my toes, planting a kiss on chris's nose before unlocking the door.

im met with nick, a bunch of balloons in hand with matt standing next to him. their face light up as they see me.

"you're looking kinda wrinkly.." matt says, pulling me into a hug.

"do i actually look old cause you're the second person to point out my 'aging'" i ask, nick handing me the balloons

-

12:06pm

nick, matt, chris, madi, nate and i have been hanging around the sturniolos house for the day, i've spent the majority of the morning laughing, until a pile of wrapped presents from my friends appears in front of me.

i open them all, thanking whoever gifted it to me with a hug.

chris doesn't give me one though?

i brush it off, maybe he just forgot.

to make things worse, ive just been told madi and nate were both scheduled to leave at 1, both needing to go to nates final ice hockey game, which the sturniolos and i were going to skip.

"oh fuck, we better go madi." nate says, jumping up off the couch and grabbing his keys. madi's sighs before leaning down, squeezing me in a hug. my heart sinks a little, today was meant to be a day with my friends.

"love you y/n, we'll update you about what happens later!" they call out before the door swings shut.

-

ive been sitting on my bed for 2 hours, scrolling aimlessly on my phone as chris sits on the other side of the room at his desk in silence, the faint clicking noise from his keyboard filling the room.

today was meant to be perfect.

i feel my throat dry up as i let out a shaky breath.

ive never cried on my birthday, i've always been too distracted to even think about getting upset, but now, when today has just felt normal, the tears are building up.

i mean, it hasnt been a bad day. its just been too regular.

i feel a few tears fall down my cheeks as i stare at chris's back.

i try my best to stay silent, but a broken sob exits my mouth, i slam a hand over my lips. chris's head snaps back to look at me, his face drops. "oh shit.." chris mumbles before speed-walking over to me, throwing himself down onto the bed to face me.

the tears won't stop now, even with my failed attempts to make excuses up to chris.

"sweetheart please don't cry." chris says softly, holding me in a tight hug as my eyes dampen his shoulder. "talk to me gorgeous, i know you love your birthday you shouldn't be crying yeah?"

"i dont know.." i say in between sobs, chris stays silent, he knows im lying.

"i just wanted it to be perfect.." i sniff, chris rubs my back.

"can i show you something..?" chris says awkwardly, pulling away from the hug. my eyebrows furrow, "okay..?" i say. chris grabs my hands, pulling me up out of bed. he leans down and grabs a sweater from the floor, putting it on my body before taking my hand again.

he walks us downstairs in silence, he seems nervous. chris opens the front door, we walk towards his car and he opens the door to let me in. "ladys first.." he says, trying to lighten the mood.

-

we've been driving for about 3 minutes before chris breaks the silence, "i was meant to take you here later but.. you know." he says, tapping his fingers lightly on the steering wheel.

i nod, chris accelerates slightly as we drive up a hill, we suddenly come to a halt. chris clears his throat, as he turns off the car.

we're parked in a small parking lot on top of a hill, theres trees directly infront of us, the sunset just peeking through the leaves. chris grabs my hand gently, "uh chris?" i ask, he just kisses my lips "shh."

we go through the trees until we they stop, my jaw drops, theres a small picnic blanket, some flowers layed on it along with a note.

its the same spot where me and chris kissed eachother for the first time, 4 years ago.

chris has never been the romantic type, he finds it 'yuck' apparently.

"chris oh my god.." i say, chris is fidgeting with the ties of his sweatpants. i sit down on the picnic blanket, with a groan chris sits down next to me.

"i think this is the sweetest thing anyones done for me.." i say, wrapping my arms around him.

chris shakes his head "shut upp..." he smiles.

"no seriously, i might cry again right now."

"don't you dare." chris says with a small laugh.

a comfortable silence grows between us as the sunsets, i break it after a few minutes.

"we should fuck."

"what?" chris says, his head snapping round to look at me.

"no just think about it, 4 years ago we had our first kiss here, so we should hook up here!" i say, concealing my laugh.

"i meannn whatever you want" chris says, trying not to seem as eager as he actually is.

i pull off my shirt, discarding it on the picnic blanket. theres trees behind us, and a cliff infront of us, its pretty private.

chris helps my shorts off, before laying me down softly on my back, he places his hoodie down under my head as a pillow. "you comfy?" he asks, spreading my legs open wider. i nod, chris pulls down his sweatpants and boxers in one motion, his erection springing out.

he smiles, holding my waist with two hands and lining himself up with me, "ready?" he asks, maintaining eye contact. "very." i smile back.

chris presses his tip inside of me, i stretch around his size, reaching out a hand, chris grabs my it.

he finally pushes the whole way into me, a desperate moan escapes my mouth. "such a pretty noise yeah?" chris says, his voice hoarse as he starts to thrust into me, his tip brushing my cervix each time.

strings of moans and whimpers exit my mouth as i squeeze his hand tighter, chris keeps a firm grip on my waist. "so so good for me, squeezing my dick so well." chris groans.

with each thrust, the knot in my stomach becomes tighter, i arch my back off the picnic blanket, "fuck chris oh my god." i yell, "cum for me gorgeous, can feel you clenching..." he says, stumbling over his words.

with a scream of his name the knot in my stomach snaps, chris pulls out, painting my stomach with white streaks. "g-..good girl." chris says, flopping down next to me on the blanket.

-

we've been laying here for the past hour, laughing, talking and watching the moon. the summer air is warm on my bare body, we both couldnt be bothered to get changed just yet.

"you know.." chris says, running a hand through his hair.

"hm?" i ask, looking over to see his face, which is barely illuminated.

"we should make this a traditon, ya know? birthday sex."

---------------------------------———————————-

i really liked writing this, thank you for the request babe

#sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

[rashomonss]

your Learning to Adapt hc was amazing, i loved it sm!!!

that being said, i need a dateables ver., i crave the sweet succulent angst (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡

a/n: ahh thank you! I’m so glad you and so many others liked it omg!! I got a bunch of comments and asks for a pt 2, so due to popular demand here is a dateables + luke version of learning to adapt! hope you enjoy!

warnings: there will be some small spoilers concerning seasons 3 and 4 of the og! obey me, it’s nothing major though

readjusting | learning to adapt pt 1.

it’s not the same without you

Diavolo is left with remnants of you all around him. All the belongings you left at the Demon Lord's castle remain in the same spots they were placed in by you. None of them are touched, he can’t bring himself to.

A part of him feels as if he failed you somehow, he's supposed to be the demon prince yet he couldn’t even protect the person he cherished the most.

Whenever he eats dinner it always happens to be a human world dish. One of your favorites, for some odd reason he hasn’t wanted much Devildom food since you’ve left.

Diavolo goes through many stages of grief during this time.

At first he drowns himself in his responsibilities, so much so Barbatos questions if he is receiving enough rest.

However once you get him into bed he can never seem to get out, instead he stares at the pillow case next to him and sighs. Only a few months ago you were laying there next to him smiling as you both talked late into the night about anything and everything.

He loved talking to you. If anything he misses your voice the most. That reassuring voice always seemed to brighten his day as well as others around him. That lovely voice that would put him to sleep at night when he claimed to have trouble sleeping.

If Diavolo was honest he’d give anything to hear you call his name once again.

Barbatos finds himself lonely for one of the first times in his existence.

More often than not he’s gotten used to you being alongside him as he cooks or cleans around the castle. With that in mind he’ll turn over his shoulder to ask you something but then realize you're not there. Often times when this happens he’ll make a face then silently continue cleaning.

The numerous little D’s around the castle tend to worry for him because he’s always on edge lately. Especially after a certain trip to the market he made alone.

It was a morning like any other and Barbatos set off for one of his favorite outdoor markets. Diavolo requested a human realm dish and this place was the perfect place for acquiring human realm food.

You often went with him, explaining your favorite foods and what not to him when you got the chance. He loved leaning more about you at any given chance, especially if you were alone with him.

As he stepped into the market and gathered a few goods here and there he began to pay the shop owner and then man made a remark of him missing his other half. Barbatos knew that he was referring to you and with that he payed the shop owner quickly and then left.

Ever since then he’s stopping visiting that stall.

If he’s being honest he’s not fond of making your favorite dishes for Diavolo while you’re not here. However he’ll never mention that to anyone.

Simeon wishes to be an angel again, this was the first and only time he wished that.

If he was then…maybe he could possibly aid with your safe return. That’s what he tells himself anyway. Simeon can’t help but blame himself for whatever reason for your disappearance.

While you're gone he takes this time to comfort Luke as well as the brothers. If he’s able to keep a level head then it should make others less anxious.

He also takes up cleaning most of Purgatory Hall as well as the House of Lamentation when the brothers lock themselves away for certain periods of time.

Simeon tries his hardest to remain calm and distract himself with other hobbies he likes; however each little thing he does reminds him of you.

When he picks up a pen he thinks of how you adored his work, praised it even, as you laid on his bed while he told you numerous different story plots and tales he had for upcoming chapters. When he passes a store and sees only his reflection a pang is felt in his chest. Just a few months ago both of you shared a smiling reflection in a store window as you walked hand in hand with him.

He doesn't know how much more of this he can take, but he’ll never let anyone know that.

Luke bakes himself into exhaustion. Oftentimes he bakes recipes the two of you would make when you spent the night at Purgatory Hall. Recently however, Simeon has had to stop him because the countertops are overflowing with sweets as Luke puts a new cake into the oven.

Luke likes to carry out activities you both would do together, such as watching the same shows you liked to watch with him, or visiting the same places you would take him too when you weren’t with the brothers.

Luke misses you so much but he knows you're okay, Simeon told him so. Still that doesn’t calm his emotions any less. Because of this Luke continues to pray for your safety and will bless your belongings.

This has caused some issues with the brothers because they become unable to touch that item for a while.

Just like the others he sometimes will visit your room and just sit silently in there wishing and praying for your safe return.

Bonus characters

Mephisto finds himself ignoring the desk you use while you spent time in the newspaper club room.

Sure all of your belongings are there and in the same place as well as all the pictures of the brothers and your other friends. Even him. But he doesn’t care.

It’s not as if he dusts off your desk at the end of every week and does weekly checks on your camera to make sure it’s up to date and still has all of the saved pictures you took.

It’s not as if he hasn’t downloaded a copy of the photos on your camera to is own personal laptop and scrolls through the ones you took of you and him when he feels lonely.

Of course he doesn’t miss the human who invaded his club room and made it lively like they do to every part of the school they reside in.

He doesn’t even realize that he gets the same drink every afternoon from the vending machine. It’s not as if you brought it to him every time you showed up. He just drinks it because it’s good.

And no he doesn’t glance at the door every hour or so hoping you’d barge in. Thats ludicrous. But currently its only a hope in his mind.

Thirteen sighs as she looks across the Devildom. Usually you both would be sharing this beautiful sight together, however she’s alone today. Like always.

She deems it fine. But maybe company would be nice, maybe. She’s grown found of your voice, your company, and even the atmosphere you bring to a conversation. She could sit and listen to you for hours.

She still wears the friendship bracelet you made her. It’s never been taken off once. And since she’s had a bit of spare time while you’ve been away she made you a few. Maybe some to even wear in your next life.

Since she can’t give it to you currently she put it around the base of your candle, that she watches daily; hourly even.

For her favorite human to disappear out of the blue like this made her very protective of your soul. At times she finds herself blabbing to your candle when she’s had an interesting day, or if she has a new trap idea.

To her it’s nice talking to the candle, but she really wishes to talk to the owner of it more.

At first Raphael didn’t feel completely lonely like the others. He had a decent relationship with you but it wasn’t nearly as close as Simeon’s or Luke’s for that matter.

However a part of him can’t help but try to comfort the beings around him during this time. He does truly care for the brothers so he does whatever he can to help them as well as Simeon.

At the end of the day he does find himself missing you. The conversations you would have with him were interesting and he loved the sparkle your eye would hold when he talked about his days in the celestial realm when the brothers were still angels.

He promised to take you to the celestial realm a while ago and show off in depth how beautiful it was. You smiled at his promise and he always remember that.

Sighing to himself, he currently wished to walk with you through a celestial realm garden to ease his mind.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me angst #omswd angst #obey me nightbringer angst #obey me dateables #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me mephistopheles #obey me thirteen #obey me raphael

[cameronspecial]

Assisting In Deception (Part 2)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex and Assassinations.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.8K 

Summary: Rafe makes an unusual offer that Y/N takes just to prove a point to her cousin.

Masterlist

Y/N enters Rafe’s office to see him scrolling on his phone at his desk. His coffee is left cold in its mug while his focus is on his phone. He looks in her direction at the sudden feeling of another presence in the room. She walks over to the chair in front of his desk and waits for him to put down his phone. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N. What do you need?” he offers, giving her his full attention. She readjusts her posture with the sudden new gaze on her, “I know it’s a little early, but I was wondering if I could have March 18th off.” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. She isn’t one to request time off unless she is sick and he highly doubts she can predict being sick six months in advance. He knows she is a planner, but no one could schedule a sickness.

“Okay, may I ask why you need the day off?” 

“For my cousin’s wedding. I mean it would be great if I could have the whole six months just to look for a date, but I could do with just the day.”

“You need a date for the wedding?” 

“It’s not necessarily a need. It just would make my life a little easier to go to the wedding without being questioned by my relatives about why my romantic life is non-existent. It also doesn’t help that there are like a million parties before the actual wedding that I will be going to solo.” 

Rafe shifts his body weight forward, placing his elbow on his desk and his chin on his hand to show his interest. He feels as though fate plopped this opportunity in front of him. What are the chances that Y/N needs a boyfriend at the same time that he needs a girlfriend? “I have a proposition for you,” he states, calmy like what he is about to say is an everyday offer. Y/N’s head tilts, “What would that be?” He looks into her eyes and it feels as though he is about to reveal a deep dark secret. “I want you to be my girlfriend.” She sits there in shock for a solid minute; her mouth hangs open, saying nothing. Rafe worries, waving his hand in front of her face, “Ms. Y/L/N?” “I’m not sure what to say about that,” she admits with bewilderment all over her face. Rafe nods, “I should clarify. I would like for you to be my fake girlfriend. I would go to all of your family events and in exchange, you would let me use you to show the media that I’m not everything they say I am.”

“I see. So you want to use me.”

“Well, yes. But I shouldn’t have used that word. We would just make media appearances together and that’s it.”

“Theoretically, if I were to say yes, I need more details on what you would require me to do.” 

“Exactly what I said. You could flaunt me in front of your family. I’d go to the engagement party, bridal party, the wedding and any other thing related to the wedding. For me, you would just need to make one or two event appearances, be seen with me in public a few times and maybe one interview. That���s it. If you agree, we could write this all down in a contract.”

“What about the fact that you are my boss? Don’t you think people will say things about that?” 

“They probably will, but everyone will have criticism of who I say I’m dating anyway. I have full confidence that you can charm the public.” 

Y/N takes a second to ponder what he is saying. She weighs the pros and cons of his statement and in her mind, the cons come out on top. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cameron. But I don’t think I’m comfortable with the idea of being in the spotlight. Thank you for offering though.” She gets up from the chair and makes her way back outside.

——

It’s been a few hours since Y/N has been in his office and she can’t stop thinking about what he said. She turned down the offer because she wasn’t sure it was a smart idea with her crush on him. The relationship would be fake, but the possibility of her catching true feelings for him could be a risk. It would be too painful if that happened and then they had to stop dating. She would rather take the annoyance of being single than the pain of heartbreak. She still can’t believe how calm and collected he was throughout the whole conversation. He acted like he was asking her what she wanted for dinner, not like he was asking her to lie to the world about their relationship. The ringing of her phone snaps her out of her thoughts. 

She takes it out of her pocket to answer it. “Hey Y/N, how are you? Did you get Francine’s wedding invite?” Natalie asks through the phone. Y/N shakes her head at her cousin’s inability to hide what she really wants to know. Natalie has only ever had one interest in life and that is one-upping her cousin. “I did, Nat. Are you going?” she plays into her cousin’s game. 

“Of course, I’m going. I love Francine, so I would totally want to go to her wedding. Plus, Richard can take the day off. I’m thinking of getting us matching hats for the wedding. Well, a fascinator for me and a top hat for him.” 

“That sounds like a great idea. I’m glad that you are happy with Richard.”

“So… Are you going to be going to the wedding solo again?”

The hint of pity and patronizing in her tone irritates Y/N to no end. Y/N responds without another thought, “Actually, I do have a date. Not that it is your business really. Anyway, I have to go. My boss is calling me.” She hangs up the phone and sighs at what she has to do. She gets up from her desk, knocking on Rafe’s door. She enters at his approval and sits herself in the same chair again. “I accept,” she informs. “But I want a say as to what goes into the contract.” 

“I can work with that.” 

Rafe holds his hand out for her to shake. As she shakes it, worry floods through her. She realizes that this isn’t just going to be something her family is going to see, but the whole world is going to know about their relationship. What will they say when they learn she isn’t the heiress of some big company? What will they think if they learn she is his assistant? She buries her stress deep inside and promises to not let it out until this whole thing is over. 

——

The staff lounge is empty except for Topper sipping his tea whilst on his phone. He may be the head of legal at Cameron Development, but he always makes sure to get to know everyone in the company, no matter the rank of their job title. “Ahh, well if it isn’t the new Mrs. Cameron,” he jokes when he notices her at the door. She smiles at him and walks to the Nespresso machine, “That is not a new nickname that you are calling me. So I see you got the contract.” Topper laughs at the seriousness of her voice at what he called her. “That I did. I have to say I was not expecting to see a contract about your relationship with Rafe when I woke up this morning.”

“Me either. All I wanted was someone to go to my cousin’s wedding with me. And now, I am going to be paraded around his world.”

“Well, you could’ve just asked me. I’m always available to take you out.”

“Thanks but the only taking out I’m considering right now is the one where you would need a gun. All jokes aside, I think it’s going to be fine. Rafe is a good boss.”

“He is and if he ever gets on your nerves too much, you can always come to me.” 

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” 

——

Rafe looks around the subway station horrified about the state of the place. His expensive dark blue polo shirt and tan dress pants are a stark contrast to the hot and rat-infested platform. Y/N giggles at the look on his face, “It’s like you’ve never been on  the subway before.” “I haven’t,” he admits, looking at her with raised eyebrows. Her head moves from side to side and she hesitantly takes his hand to guide him onto the arriving subway.

One of the stipulations of the contract is that Y/N gets to take them on their first “outing” as a couple. She wanted to go out with him outside of work to get to know him more than the very little he’s allowed anyone he works with to get to know him; the exception being Topper and Kelce, who grew up with him and were given jobs when he took over the company. The other rule she stipulated is that she wants a soft launch of the relationship until it is necessary for her to be revealed as the mystery girl. At least, this way she can keep her privacy as long as she can. She had told Rafe to dress casually, but she really shouldn’t have been surprised that he still arrived looking like a million dollars. 

He keeps his sunglasses on as he pauses to sit down beside her on the subway seat. He takes a chance to glance at the costumed cookie monster and looks back at her. “Do you have to keep your sunglasses on? We are on the subway,” she questions, leaning in to talk to him. His eyes dart to the muppet beside him, “Yes, because me wearing sunglasses indoors is the strangest thing here. Why couldn’t we have taken my car?” She shoots him a playful glare. “Your fancy dancy car would bring too much attention to us and that is the last thing I want right now,” she explains, checking the subway screen to see how many stops until they get off. “Where are we going anyways?” he inquires, following her gaze. 

“It’s a surprise.” 

——

The pair exit the station and the sight before him is one he is familiar with. He isn’t sure what “regular” people restaurant is around Central Park, but he lets her steer them in the right direction. He looks down at their joint hand and he can’t help but notice how they interlace together perfectly. He shakes himself out of his observation and looks up to see the reason why she stopped. In front of him is a street cart that appears to be selling hot dogs. He looks over at her with a questioning look, “You want me to eat food that has come from a cart?” 

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. And this place has a permit. It’s fine.”

“You can eat that stuff, but I’m not risking it.”

“Stop being so snooty. Eating is part of a date. So you are going to go sit on that bench and eat whatever I get you. If you are a good boy, then maybe I’ll get you a Spider-Man or Spongebob ice cream. Dealers choice.” 

He stares at her in surprise that she talked to him in such an ordering manner. She always speaks her mind, but she normally does it in a less commanding way. He listens to what she says and goes to sit on a bench looking over the lake. After a few minutes, she comes back with two hot dogs and water bottles. She hands him one of each, “I have ketchup and mustard packets if you want. I didn’t get you a New York hot dog because I thought I would ease you into street food culture.” He takes the packets with thanks and adds the condiments to his meal. They eat in silence until she breaks the silence. “So you grew up in the Outer Banks. What’s that like?” He looks over at her, finishing chewing before answering, “Yeah. It was quiet.” 

“Wow, this has been a great conversation. Thank you for participating in it!”

“I don’t know what you expect, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ve never been much of a talker.” 

“First, when we are outside of the office, you can call me Y/N. Second, what I expect from you is to stop being Mr. Cameron, my boss, and to be Rafe, my boyfriend. If people are going to actually believe we are dating, then you have to separate those two.” 

“Okay, fine. I see your point. Ask me another question.” 

She grins at his offer and takes a second to think about it, “You are never playful or smile, so why do you tease me sometimes? It’s the least serious I’ve ever seen you.” 

“You’re the only one who isn’t afraid of me. Plus, it amuses me how flustered you get.”

Y/N is rendered speechless and she uses one hand to put her hair that is framing her face on both sides of her face behind her ear. The conversation flows in small talk while they finish their hot dogs. She takes their garbage and stands up, “You’ve been good. I guess I can get you an ice cream. Do you want Spider-Man or Spongebob?”

“Are those the only two options? What about the other flavours?” 

“Yes. Now, choose.” 

“Spongebob.”

She nods and heads back over to the stand. He watches as she pays for the sweet treats and returns to him. Rafe didn’t want her to pay for everything on the date, but she had put it as a requirement in the contract. He takes the package from her, opening it as soon as it makes contact with his hand. The disappointment on his face is evident on his face and she laughs. “This does not look like the picture,” his lips turn in a microscopic pout. Her head moves from side to side, “Things rarely do, Boss.” 

——

Y/N returns home from the date a little after five to find Juni sitting on the couch, watching TV.  “Where have you been? You didn’t tell me you were going out, Sweetie,” Juni interrogates, getting up from the couch to be closer to Y/N. She chuckles at her best friend worrying like her mother. She gives her a hug, “Did you forget that I told you about my fake date with Rafe today?” “Oh, yeah. I did. Sorry, I’ve been so busy with work that I forgot. How was your date with the Big C?”  she apologizes, sitting herself down at the kitchen island. 

“One. That cannot be your new nickname for him. Two. It was good. He opened up to me a little bit, so we are making progress. It was adorable, he was so disgruntled that the Spongebob ice cream wasn’t like the picture. Also, apparently, he teases me because he likes to see me flustered.” 

The loving look in Y/N’s eyes causes Juni to frown, “Just be careful with him. I don’t want you getting hurt in this whole fake dating thing, Sweetie. I’ve never seen these things end well.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t fall for him. He’s my boss and nothing more.” 

Alexander enters the apartment with no knock and an annoyed look on his face. “Why must people be so crude? Why does no one want a serious relationship anymore?” he complains, settling himself on the couch. The girls turn with concerned looks on their faces. “Another bad date?” Y/N poses, getting up from her stool to sit beside him. “Yes, this guy literally told me all he wants is a fuck buddy. And when I asked him why he still tried to match with me even though my profile said I wanted a relationship, he said that he just thought I was lying and would agree to just fucking when I saw his face,” he answers and lets himself be embraced by Y/N. Juni gets up to rub his back in reassurance, “Ugh, I hate men that are so cocky like that. I’m sorry the date went bad. He doesn’t realize what a great guy he is missing out on.” 

Heat rushes to his cheeks and he scratches the back of his neck. They look into each other's eyes. Anyone but them can see the obvious attraction between the two. Y/N looks between the pair with a slight bit of jealousy. She wishes that she could have chemistry like that with someone, but that would require believing in love first.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @aprilrudgate @loving-and-dreaming @thepatriarchykeychain @maybankslover @abbybarnesstuff @wh0reforbucknasty @spencereidbasis

#assisting in deception #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron series #rafe obx #outerbanks #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #outer banks rafe #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #obx #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx x reader #obx x you #obx x y/n

[pherelesytsia]

Who did this to you? - 7

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing, gun, fights

Word Count: 2.8k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part6 Part 8

Rays, molten gold, heralding the dawn of a new day, a new chance, poured through the dense layer of wandering clouds. The smell of rain was in the air. Light beamed down on the couple, saying farewell to the man leaning against the door frame with his arms folded in front of his chest.

The mischievous grin had vanished from Alfie's lips, swept away by the wind. Smiling, he embraced Y/N wrapped in a warming blanket and a button-down reaching to her knees painted in blueish and greenish hues.

            "I'm sorry. I had to do it, little one." Alfie whispered into her ear.

            "Thank you," Y/N replied.

The woman, weakened by the burden, leaned her head against his chest, embraced him, but the fingertips did not touch. Her heart bore no hate for the man. His hands slid down her back and released her. The warmth, the sparkle in his eyes was gone and stared at the Shelby with a warning look. Alfie uttered no admonition, did not curse Thomas, but his eyes piercing the air spoke volumes, telling him to watch over her, to protect her with fists and heart, guessing if Thomas didn't change, he would lose the young woman forever.

            "Thank you, Alfie." Thomas voiced.

The addressed nodded with a wicked grin as his tongue licked over his bottom lip.

            "If the Shelby doesn't change, then you know where to find me Y/N/N." Alfie teased, yet there was a hint of seriousness in his voice.

Thomas rested his hand on her lower back, said nothing in response, had heard the words loud and clear, the judgment, the laughter, but the silver tongued man couldn't speak, nor raise his voice against the man who had saved his wife and allowed him to save the ruins, the debris of his from afar perfect looking marriage.

The delicate hand, giving him warmth and strength, the hope of a fairy-tale ending clasped his. The couple turned, walked towards the vehicle parked awfully a few steps away from the front door. Keys jiggled. Thomas readjusted the blanket wrapped around her shivering form, concealing her shoulders, had spotted the goosebumps spreading over her flesh conjured by the rising breeze and led his wife to the passenger side.

Elegantly, as if it was the first date, Thomas opened the door for his wife, lifted the blanket with sullied corners and closed the door. Smiling, he raised his right hand in a welcoming gesture, thanked Solomons again for what he had done and got into the vehicle.

            Gasping, Y/N leaned her head against the window. The coldness eased the pain. Colours merged, the lush green of the trees with the wandering clouds engulfing the rising sun. Reddish rays kissed the awakening land. Cawing birds circled the fields and roes fled in great haste, jumping over fallen trees and hurdles into the forest. Trees fenced the deserted road. Words did not escape, but the silence was not troubling and Y/N thought she could hear the ravens singing.

He remembers, Y/N though. A weak smile spread across her lips. Thomas was reaching for her hand, fearing she would flinch, but Y/N let it happen, allowed him to clasp her hand. Wounds healed under his tender and caring touch. His thumb travelled in circular motions across her skin.

            "I've taken the rest of the month off," Thomas announced.

His eyes slid to her, turned away from the uncrowded town, and followed the road leading through the awakening city. The shops were still shuttered and students, a few shopkeepers, bustled about in the streets still lightened by swaying lanterns. Patiently Thomas waited, hoping she would answer, but her lips were sealed, not seeming to want to speak, desiring silence to reign.

            "I was thinking we could leave the town. I could rent us a hotel; we could spend a few weeks there and spend time together. Far from London, the family, my responsibilities and getting to know each other better. It would do us good." Thomas hesitantly continued.

A sparkle of hope ignited in his eyes.

            "Of course, I understand if you don't agree. Please take all the time you need. I understand. I can wait." he added, sounding nervous.

Thomas looked with anticipation, a little sparkle of hope, down at this wife.

            "It sounds nice," Y/N spoke.

Her gaze was focused on the road framed by houses mirroring each other, with gardens of wilting flowers and mourning trees, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her husband was smiling. The words were gentle, and she hoped he wasn't kind to lure her into his embrace, ashamed to file for divorce, fearing the stares people would give. Y/N chuckled, realised it was Thomas Shelby she was thinking about. A man women would kill for. A strange, indescribable feeling built up in her stomach. The pit deepened. Y/N leaned forward. Her eyes glided over the road, back and forth, from house to house. She tensed under his touch. Y/N searched for the answer. The pit in her stomach turned into a vortex, a wave swallowing life, islands and ships.

            "What's wrong?" worriedly Thomas inquired.

The car slowed not to a standstill, rolled not faster than a walker. Fear reigned in his troubled mind, fearing the worst, found no blood escaping her limbs, an undying spring staining the rough fabric. Hectically, he searched for the reason for the pain, the fear in her watering eyes. Her fingers loosened in his touch, slipped away into the void, the source of darkness, all evil.

            "Y/N/N." Thomas spoke with a breaking voice, rousing her from her rigidity.

Speechless, gasping, Y/N pointed at the house. The sun was rising, yet yellowish light was burning in the living room. The curtains were ripped in half. The door was ajar, opening in the falling and rising breeze. Lips did not touch. The rain had washed the traces of gore from the sidewalk.

Eyes grew dull, grey and misty, deep autumn.

Shaking, a muffled scream ripped through the silence. The brakes chased the birds lingering in the nests away. Ignoring the voice, roaring thunder, telling her to turn, Y/N jumped. Her throat was aching. Y/N did not turn, raced, heard his voice forcing her to turn, to wait, but she ignored him like a child. Pushing the gate open, she felt the stabbing pain in her side, but did not halt and followed the path.

A hand forced her to stop, to not dare to take another step. Thomas pressed her hard against his body, pushed forward and forbid his wife to enter the house. Y/N protested, cried out, screamed her name, struggled with veiled eyes, tried to resist, but Thomas was too strong.

He rose, a shield of protection, the last wall of defence, stronger and thicker, unclaimable by the enemy with ladders and spears. The shards on the floor, once a vase graced by hundreds of finely drawn ornaments, caused Y/N to gasp. Thomas placed his hand on her head, almost brushing her eye, felt the long lashes under his touch, covering her ear and feeling her shrieking heart colliding with his skin. Drawing the pistol, he aimed at the door, had searched for the enemy beyond the tinted windows, but no figures were lurking in the house.

            "Stay behind. Do you understand?" he commanded, whispering into her ear.

It wasn't a question. Eyes grew in fear. She had never heard this sound in her whole life, had heard tales about it and the tone send a shiver down her spine. Before Y/N could tell him to wait, to ask to get someone so he wouldn't rush into the house alone, Thomas released her from his rigid grip. Cursing, Thomas kicked the door open. The doorhandle marked the wall, broke through the wallpaper and rammed into the porous wall. He stormed into the house. Thomas called out, but the second he stepped into the building he knew, felt it in every fibre of his body, that nobody was left there to suffer a slow death.

            The receiver hung from the cord, dangling back and forth.

Swiftly Thomas searched the living room followed by the kitchen, shouting but getting no answer and when he was sure no one was hiding in the corners, he turned to face his wife rooting into the screaming wood. Y/N pointed at the receiver. She shielded her lips with her palm. Tears streamed down her face. She tried to close her eyes, but she couldn't do otherwise than stare at it, at the fragments crunching beneath his hasty steps.

Flowers were trampled, the reddish petals mudded and dried. Stains had eaten into the carpet and a dark crust had formed. Nail had left deep marks on the wallpaper, a cat scratching the wall to sharpen the claws or hoping to get the owner's attention. The coat lay on the floor, arms outflung with missing buttons.

            "Peggy?", "Peggy!" she cried out.

Y/N screamed, awoke from a stupor. As if stung by a bee, Y/N ran up the stairs, ignoring the pain sweeping through her body. Healing wounds tore open. Gasping, Y/N took two steps at a time, tried three but failed, and pushed the door to Peggy's room open. A sickening sweet floral scent benumbed her mind. The room was pristine, free of the traces of a struggle. The bed was untouched. Not wasting a moment to close the door, she ran on, rushing into each of the rooms, but found nothing, not her parents, no soul nor an intruder.

A glimmer of hope sparked in her chest, heard the deep voice echoing through the house, soothing her heart and soul. She leaned forward, suddenly realising it was all her fault, that they were not interested in Peggy but in her, in the man on whom revenge had to be taken to gain money or weapons. Tears ran in rivulets. Slowly Y/N turned around, looked at the stairs, felt nothing, empty and devoid of emotions, and followed the hush voice.

Clouds swallowed the sun, and darkness cascaded across the wooden floor. The water, the rain smothered the spark, had hoped he was talking to Peggy, but Thomas held the receiver of the phone in his hand with the gun in the other and spoke harshly with the person on the other side. Her heart contracted. This can't be happening, Y/N breathed, cursing herself. Thomas did not hear his wife, the stairs moaning under her weight. Her eyes fell on the paper, crumpling under his firm grip.

            "Thomas?" Y/N whispered.

Abruptly, without saying farewell, Thomas ended the call and stuffed the lump of paper into the pocket. He took a blanket, lying on the floor and ran up the stairs and it was the moment she realised the blanket had slipped from her shoulders.

            "Thomas. What have you found?" she continued, suspecting the worst.

The smile healed her soul.

            "Don't worry. I have everything under control. Everything is fine. In a moment, Arthur and the others will arrive. Polly and Ada will take you home and tend to your wounds. You will take a warm bath and eat dinner. Ada baked a cake and before you know I will be with you," Thomas replied.

Lowering the blanket on her shoulders, he ran his palms over her upper arms, giving her warmth, and placed his lips on her forehead.

            "Peggy's not here. She's gone. Is that blood? What have you found?", "I'll take care of everything. Don't worry. Everything's fine." Thomas spoke like a mantra but the words failed to calm her, aroused fear.

            "It's my fault," Y/N uttered with widened eyes.

Hands gave her support, held her on her feet, clasped her, pressed her form to his chest and led Y/N down the stairs. Thomas suppressed the urge to curse like a sailor, sealed his lips shut, feeling the healing wounds as they tore open again, and continued to caress her back.

            "No, my dear, it's not your fault, you're not to blame.", "No, it should have been me. They wanted to kill me. They want to harm you. I'm the weakest link in the chain and they've got Peggy. They were watching the house; they didn't realise I was long gone and maybe they did, but before they could do anything, Alfie was there." Y/N cried out, swallowed half the words.

His loving eyes settled on hers and she paused.

            "It's not your fault. My love, please. You're not to blame for anything that happened. I'll find Peggy. I know where she is. She's alright.", "There's blood. Tommy. That's blood. Peggy is injured. That's her blood, Tommy." Y/N screamed into his shoulder.

Her fingers clawed at his coat. His hands cupped her face, forcing her tenderly and yet with strength to face him. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs. His warm breath touched her cheeks, but he could not banish the callousness, the blush akin to when a lover spoke words of affection. The hesitance was gone. Thomas embraced his wife, placed his hand on the back of her head, not allowing her to observe the chaos more closely, guessing what had happened, knowing it, feeling it in every fibre of his body, knew when Peggy had screamed that someone had attacked her, that someone had followed her to at least complete the order on some aspect.

            Wheels screeched. Curses broke the silence and woke the neighbours from a deep slumber. Confused, Y/N looked around, wanting to know what had happened, and Thomas breathed the answer into her hair. Arthur followed by the rest of the family, John and Polly stormed into the house like an armada with guns drawn, prepared to kill anyone daring to stand in the way, but they all came to a halt, shocked, not trusting their eyes, seeing Y/N in her husband's arms, had assumed it was her who was in danger.

            "I will not leave you alone," Y/N murmured.

Thomas chuckled.

            "You forgot who you married. Yes, you will, Ada and Polly will take you home, you will be safe there, Arthur and the others will accompany me." Thomas answered.

He stroked her tousled hair and whispered promises into her ear. The protests died in the ocean of affection, words sounding too wonderful, out of a romance, too good to be true.

            "Solomons will ring our bell, let him in. He will look after you and ensure your safety. Where is Polly?" Thomas addressed Ada.

She nodded fleetingly, drew nearer to the couple, ashamed she had never let Y/N know how much she liked her, knew as a woman she was the one who should have welcomed Y/N into the family with open arms. Ada slipped out of the coat and put it on her shoulders.

            "She is preparing a bath and necessary things," Ada answered.

Cautiously, fearing Y/N would flee, she placed her gloved hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Eyes fluttered open and Polly smiled and Y/N did not return it.

            "I can buy another one," Ada assured, motherly.

She brushed the loose strand behind Y/N´s ear, answered the unspoken question, drawing Y/N´s attention to herself and not to the debating and cursing men.

            "Don't worry, we will take care of you. Polly is cooking a soup, and the blankets are warming up by the fire. We will eat cake, and after the bath, you can go to sleep." she spoke in a soothing tone.

Thomas placed his wife in the care of the woman welcoming her with a gentle voice and outstretched arms. Ada did not give the woman a chance to reconsider. A veil of pure darkness settled on his striking features. Nostrils flared. Thomas cursed. His flexing hand slipped into his trouser pocket, retrieved the wrinkled paper, and handed it to Arthur. Eyes focused on the delicately curved initials, representing a name they all knew. Dry, bitter laughter mixed with bloody murder. Down the long road, the women went on, away from the gruesome scene and Y/N, too exhausted to fight, to raise her voice and speak her mind, let it happen, oblivious to the commotion in the house.

TagList:

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#thomas shelby x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x you #michael gray x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder headcanon #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fic #john shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #john shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #michael gray #cillian murphy imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fookin blinders #thomas shelby fluff #arthur shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine

[theworldofotps]

Bet On It

Pairing: Hook x Reader Word Counter: 2,047 Description: Tyler keeps trying to get you to talk with him.

Part 2 of Lost Bets

@madhatterbri @99hook I hope you enjoy loves! ________ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist​ @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic​ @writtingrose​ @99hook @sjwrites22​ @sassymox​ @mrsacklesevansmgk​ @xladyxfatex​ @biforrollynch​ @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29​ @itsicantbelievethis666​ @lilred91 @rebellious-desires​ @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie​ @shortyiceheart​ @serpantscorpio8497​ @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart​ @vebner37​ @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars​ @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior​ @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth​ @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @ripleyswhore @moonrosekk @elevennbloom @melblacc @alliwant456 @xbreezymeadowsx @mcreignsera If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _______

“Y/n your phone is ringing again.”

Lifting your head from where it was resting against the beach chair you picked it up glancing at the lit-up screen. A shot of pain went through your heart once more seeing Tyler’s name on the screen.

“Tyler again?” Your best friend Renee asked as you nodded silently ignoring the call and placing the phone back down readjusting the sunglasses on your head. “Why don’t you just talk to him, hear what he wants to say and then be done with everything who knows maybe you’ll feel better.”

“I don’t know Ree it’s been hard enough avoiding him these last few weeks; I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“That’s understandable babes but at least figure out what you’re going to do especially with MJF asking you out for drinks more than once in the last week.”

“Uhg don’t remind me I’m thankful he told me, but I just don’t want to go out or spend any time with him, ya know what I mean?”

“Maybe he has a thing for you I mean you’re a total hottie so I could see it.” “Maxwell is not my type and I just hope he realizes that.”

Renee smiles winking at you as she leans back in her chair grabbing your phone when it rings again then shuts it off.

“Figure it out babes.” Staying quiet you settled back into your seat thinking maybe she was right maybe you should finally talk to Tyler just so you could get closure. The rest of the afternoon your mind plays back everything over the last couple of weeks. When you walked out on Tyler you didn’t know where to go but thankfully Renee was there to help you pick up the pieces. Tony was willing to give you a little time off work using an injury from a backstage jumping to explain your absence. The first few days were spent just crying in Renee and Jon’s guest room trying to get the pain to ease even a little. Your dreams tortured you at night with images of him, more than once you woke up feeling like he was right there with you. His arm heavy across your waist the faint scent of him on the t-shirt you couldn’t bear to give back. As more time passed it got a little easier at least with doing everyday activities, Tyler had blown up your phone every chance he could, but you ignored the messages. Now you were seriously considering talking to him just so your heart could have the closure you needed. Maybe then it wouldn’t take so long for your heart to heal. Returning back to your hotel room you stood outside the shower waiting for the water to heat up staring at the text box. ‘Okay y/n you can do this just send the message and be done with it.’

Typing quickly before you chickened out you had the message ready, it was straight to the point.

‘Tyler I’m reaching out to let you know I’m willing to talk. I’ll meet you at the arena an hour before show time. I expect the truth.’

Pressing send after staring at it for another few minutes you finally place the phone down and get a shower. Despite not having a match or being on tv tonight you were going to be backstage to hang out with Renee and watch Jon’s match. Stepping out you made yourself dry off and get dressed before daring to look at your phone, you hated that he still had the power to make your heart skip a beat seeing his name. Ignoring all the other messages from him you looked at the most recent.

‘Okay I’ll be there.’

Grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder you head down to your rental car. Part of you was scared to hear what he had to say. Didn’t want to hear anymore about how you were a bet and everything you had envisioned for your relationship was nothing more than one sided. The thought you shared your deepest secrets with him all your hopes, dreams. Knowing inside that it wasn’t real or at least that his feelings weren’t in the same place as yours; left a sour taste in your mouth that wouldn’t leave.

Pulling into the parking lot of the arena you lock your rental and head inside, you knew he’d already be in the catering area. You’d always meet in catering when one of you rode with a friend or had some other business to handle first. Sending a text to Renee letting her know what was going on and why you weren’t in Jon’s locker room. Place your phone on silent before making your way down the hall. You could already hear some voices and slowly stepped inside, almost immediately your eyes landed on Tyler. His head lifting just as quickly almost as if he could sense you were there. Motioning for him to follow you stepped back out not bothering to wait to see if he got up. Slowly going down the other hall you could hear his feet following you, neither of you speaking as you turned this way and that to find a private space.

Coming to an empty and partly lit hallway you stopped taking a moment to compose yourself before turning to look at him. The sight caused your heart to ache, Tyler’s eyes had dark circles underneath them from apparent lack of sleep and his hair was messier than usual. He looked as bad as she had been feeling lately.

“I’m going to be honest I wasn’t expecting you to answer any of my texts.” His voice filled the silence, and you could hear the exhaustion evident in the way he spoke.

“I wasn’t going to, but you wouldn’t stop blowing my phone up and I just.. Realized that I really need the closure. So go ahead say whatever.”

“Look.” Tyler rubbed a hand over his face and leaned against the wall looking at the floor.

“I don’t know what all MJF told you or whatever and yes, I know it was him because the fucker texted me about it. Our relationship was real, I meant everything I have ever told you it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Tyler, I’m not an idiot so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t treat me like one, I heard the recordings of you talking with Ethan.  ‘Are you sure you’re going to be able to keep it up much longer? Of course, I can she’s completely clueless of everything. She trusts me more than anyone, she’s even told me herself.’ That doesn’t sound like it wasn’t still a bet when we were dating.”

You repeated the messages that swam through your head on the daily since you left him. It hurt you hearing that and feeling like you weren’t of importance to him when he meant the world and more to you.

“Okay the truth the whole truth, when I first came up to you it was only because of a bet with Ethan. If I could get you to talk with me, he’d get a few of the things I had my eye on but didn’t want to use the money because I couldn’t justify it.”

You listened and watched as he fidgeted and shifted on his feet his nerves trying to get the better of him.

“However, as we talked more and eventually got together the bet wasn’t even on my mind anymore. I told Ethan it was dropped and no longer important when we started getting closer.  He didn’t even get me the items I was looking at because I was having such a good time with you. I know I hurt you and I’m sorry.”

Tyler turned to finally look at you as he stepped closer, his hands hanging at his sides.

“I love you y/n I know it may not seem like that but I swear to you our relationship was real and I meant everything I have ever told you.

“You should have been honest with me from the beginning I’m a human not some game you can play while you’re bored. Even if we hadn’t got together even if we just stayed friends that’s not how you begin any type of relationship. I have feelings and emotions hearing those voice notes hurt me so badly finding out that you only came up to me because of a stupid bet. It makes me feel like all this time was nothing but a waste.”

You whispered the last part feeling the emotions of the last few weeks building up inside, no tears would fall given that you’d cried so much lately. Tyler couldn’t stand seeing the look on your face, the pain and hurt was evident. The fact he had made you feel this way hit him with such a wave of guilt.

“I know baby and I’m so sorry I don’t know what else to say apart from I’m an idiot and I never meant for you to get hurt. I didn’t think you’d ever find out about it, not that it’s an excuse for what I did to you. I know I shouldn’t ask but do you think it’s possible we can work through this? Even if we need take it slow.”

Looking at Tyler you thought for a few minutes, leaving him in agonizing silence while he waited for you to answer.

“Maybe, I need to wrap my head around this all but I’m not saying no. First thing you can do is come with me to see Maxwell.” Turning you made your way back towards catering with Tyler walking behind you a small flicker of hope in his heart. The two of you searched everywhere before finally finding MJF in a backstage interview, when he spotted you, a smirk crossed his face. Which quickly turned to a frown when he spotted Tyler beside you. Waiting until he was finished you watched as he made everyone leave the area and turn back towards you.

“Well, what an unpleasant surprise I did not expect to see the two of you around each other ever again. So, is this why you’ve rejected all my offers for drinks? You’ve accepted his apology.” “What’s going on between myself and Tyler is private. I appreciate you telling me about everything but even if I hadn’t spoken to Tyler today, I’m just not interested in you that way. I’d rather just be coworkers.”

“Wait you’ve been asking her out?” Tyler looked at you before glaring at MJF who shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I have been so what.” “Those conversations you recorded were from months ago when we first began talking, it wasn’t until Y/n and I started having a few issues that you decided to tell her everything. You’ve been trying to get her to break up with me just so you could try and weasel your way in.” “Anyone with taste would know I’m a far better choice over any other man in this damn company if she’s too stupid to understand that well it’s her loss.” Before either of you could react, Tyler’s fist swung out connecting with the other man’s jaw the few people that were lingering outside the door quickly rushed in. Separating the two of them you grabbed Tyler’s arm and tugged him away from where MJF was sitting on the floor holding his mouth and wiping the blood off his bottom lip. “Tyler please don’t.” Looking at you he huffed and led you away with a gentle nudge on your lower back ignoring the shouting from Maxwell. Together the two of you walked towards Jon’s locker room and stopped outside the door, Tyler taking your hand in his lightly.   “I don’t know what’s going to happen between us, but I want you to know I’ll do whatever I can to prove myself to you again. I love you y/n and that’s not going to stop.” He whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead than turned and walked away, he didn’t want you to say anything else right now he was going to let you have your time. He was determined to win you back and you could bet on that.

#hook fanfiction #hook aew #hook x reader #aew hook #tyler senerchia

[ggomos-maribat]

2 | in which Damian Wayne wakes up to an odd breakfast

Part 2 of No Mr. Wayne You Can't Adopt Me! | Masterlist

Saturday. Bruce's only schedule for the day? An interview.

But inside the Wayne manor.

It wasn't Marinette's first visit to the house, but she still couldn't get used to how humongous it was. She readjusted the box in her hands and the coat hanging from her arm as Bruce himself welcomed her at the front door and guided her to the drawing room.

A drawing room that indeed looked expensive but was extremely messy at the moment.

"Where's Alfred?" she asked.

"He's out for groceries and a few other errands," replied Bruce, which explained the state of the room. Which also explained the Batarangs and a utility belt lying out in the open which Bruce didn't seem to notice.

Marinette inwardly sighed one of her many sighs for the day. Her boss was lucky she came over early in the morning on a weekend. She wondered how his identity hadn't been discovered by the public yet. She took the chance to give Bruce a once-over to examine his outfit: polished shoes, blue blazer, blue tie, hair gelled to perfection.

"Is it too formal?" he asked hesitantly.

"They will only take one photograph of you but you have to at least leave the impression that you're not 'all work, no play' in your own house." She crossed her arms. "May I suggest your waffle-knit sweater with a collared dress shirt underneath and light-colored pants?"

What is that expression . . . is Bruce actually pouting?! "Yes, okay. I'll change now."

Just as he was about to turn around and retreat upstairs, Marinette stopped him. "Mr. Wayne, may I tidy up this space for our guests?"

He appeared a shade paler, pinned under her stern gaze. "Yes, of course. Thank you Marinette."

And off he scurried to his bedroom.

With his permission, the PA got to work. Ms. Sinclair and her assistant will be here at eight-thirty. We have around fifteen minutes to prepare. She picked up the papers scattered on top of and underneath the coffee table, stored away the blankets draped on the chairs, and safely hid the Batarangs and other identity-incriminating objects behind some knick knacks on the shelves. Armed with a duster and a lint roller, she moved around to clear the cushions of fur and get rid of the dirt between spaces. Finally, she pulled the curtains open to give a lively view of the courtyard (and to introduce some much-needed sunlight into the area).

When Bruce returned downstairs wearing the outfit from her recommendation, he blinked and looked around as if it was his first time seeing the room. "This looks much better," he hummed in approval.

Marinette topped it off by placing a flower centerpiece on the coffee table. "Anything else you need me to do, Mr. Wayne? Should I sit in during the interview?"

"No thank you, I have another request for you." Bruce's eyes flickered towards the kitchen. "You see, some of my children might already be awake at this time and Alfred's not around to take care of breakfast."

". . . I don't believe this fits my job description."

"I'll add to your pay this month."

"I'll get started on breakfast right away, sir. Any preferences?"

"Anything will do."

Marinette nodded and immediately put away all the cleaning equipment as the doorbell rang. Bruce told her that he would be the one to greet Ms. Sinclair, so she headed for the kitchen instead.

***

Upon entering the new room, Marinette noticed that there was already an occupant inside. A short-haired woman sat on top of a barstool on the kitchen island, cradling a mug. Marinette halted in her tracks, bowing slightly.

"Hello. Miss . . . Cassandra." She smiled softly. "I'm Marinette, Mr. Wayne's assistant. I don't believe we've met before. Your father's currently entertaining a Gazette reporter at the moment and asked me to cook breakfast."

Cassandra, or Cass as Bruce would often refer to her, tilted her head. "Nice to meet you."

Marinette unhooked an apron near the refrigerator. "Would you like me to make you another cup of tea?"

Cass' eyebrows raised, perhaps surprised at how perceptive she was. She gazed down at her mug, thinking, and met Marinette's eyes again. "Sure."

With a one-month raise in mind, Marinette prepared the teapot and collected the ingredients. Thanks for not telling me which children are home, she frowned as she went over the contents of the pantry. Very helpful, Mr. Wayne. She settled on playing it safe: simple but numerous choices.

"Have you got any preferences for breakfast, Miss Cassandra?" She asked as she tipped the teapot over Cass' mug. Cass merely shook her head 'no'.

"Very well."

Marinette had just preheated the pans when footsteps sounded. In rushed another Wayne kid, slinging a bag over his shoulder.

"Good morning, Mr. Thomas," she chirped. "Would you like coffee, tea, or juice?"

Duke looked like he was caught off guard seeing her there. He looked back and forth between her and Cass, eyes filled with confusion. His sister only motioned for him to reply to Marinette.

"Uuh, coffee please," he responded, walking up to a barstool to sit down.

"I'll brew a cup for you right away." Marinette took the empty coffee maker, suspiciously containing remnants of the drink. Mr. Drake's doing, no doubt. "Mr. Wayne had me get started on breakfast since Mr. Pennyworth isn't here at the moment."

"Ohh," said Duke. "Marinette, right? It's a Saturday today though. Bruce called you in just to make breakfast? He's incompetent but not that incompetent, you know."

"He does require my presence for the interview he's doing." Marinette motioned towards the direction of the drawing room. "I have nothing to do while he's currently conversing with Ms. Sinclair, so he thought I could cook some food for you."

"Pretty sure his main problem was breakfast though."

Marinette slowly nodded in agreement, stirring the contents of one pot. "I didn't object because he promised to compensate me fairly."

"As he should." Duke brought out his phone to check his reflection on the camera. "By the way, do either of you have any tips for an internship interview?"

Cass shrugged and patted his hand. "You'll do well."

"Really? I almost couldn't sleep last night because of it." Duke huffed. "Then Tim told me to just wing it after I caught him making coffee."

Marinette contributed two words while still moving around to cook: "Your cologne."

Duke sniffed himself. "Does it smell bad?"

"It's best to go for a more subtle scent." She wrinkled her nose and momentarily reached for her bag to toss him a bottle that she brought. "Here, this might be more suitable."

"You brought men's cologne?" Duke stared at the glass sprayer in disbelief.

"You'd be surprised at how many things Mr. Wayne unexpectedly needs." The reply drew out a little laugh from Cass.

Duke took a whiff and lit up. "I'll go change and put this on. Thanks, Mars!"

As he raced back up the stairs, Marinette checked the time. She untied her apron, poured out four cups of coffee, and prepared them with differently: the first two (one for Duke), she used only creamer and sugar; in the second one, she added just the right amount of sugar; and in the last, a vanilla flavoring, tower of whipped cream, and a dash of cinnamon. Next, she quickly set up the three drinks on a wooden tray, plus three plates of pastries from the box she brought.

Thank kwamis Alfred has a good kitchen arrangement system, she thought.

"Please excuse me for a moment." She told Cass as she picked up the tray.

She was granted impeccable timing when she slipped into the drawing room—Bruce and Ms. Sinclair had paused their interview, with the latter's eyes immediately gleaming in delight upon seeing the snacks and drinks. Meanwhile, Sinclair's assistant-slash-photographer gawked.

"Excuse me, here's some refreshments." Marinette beamed at the journalist, setting down the tray. "Mr. Wayne picked these pastries just for you, miss. I hope you enjoy them."

"Goodness!" Excitement was practically radiating from the woman. "Aw, Bruce you didn't have to!"

Ms. Sinclair wasn't a difficult person to please. A quick research told Marinette that she had a sweet tooth. A much deeper (totally not borderline stalker-ish) research revealed her favorite coffee blend and pastry shop.

Marinette definitely read a hint of surprise from Bruce, even if he did a good job of concealing it. Because Bruce, in fact, didn't prepare the pastries and is seeing them for the first time. He directed a charming smile at Ms. Sinclair. "It's the least I can do. Please enjoy."

"Such a dear," the woman gushed. "Now I might do three pages of the magazine for you, not two!"

And when Bruce glanced at Marinette, she sent him a look saying 'you better thank the heavens you have me.'

***

When she returned, Duke was back, happily sipping his coffee but along with him was a newcomer.

The youngest son.

Marinette had met Damian Wayne only a few times before and only when Bruce was around. Bruce had introduced him fleetingly, so she had only managed to exchange simple greetings with him, not anything more.

But despite their lack of interaction, Marinette knew a lot about Damian from Bruce's ramblings during lull time at work. He'd tell her 'Damian tried to adopt another cat', 'I think Damian's mad at me', 'How can I get Damian and Jason to bond together?', 'Damian threatened to go back to his mother if I don't agree to let Titus come on vacation with us', or 'I think Damian just used a slang on me. What does this mean?'

Marinette would give her best advice to her boss during those times, but she couldn't help but wonder if the resolutions ever worked with Damian since Bruce never relayed follow-ups.

"Good morning, Damian," she greeted, "Breakfast is almost ready. Would you like a drink?"

"Thomas filled me in." He set his bag on top of the counter. "Father really shouldn't be calling his PA for this. And no, I don't want a drink. I have to go soon."

Duke eyed his brother's outfit. "You have school today?"

"I asked my art teacher if I can come in today to work on my painting as we're not allowed to take our artworks home." Damian replied.

"No need to come in on time," Cass pointed out. "Come eat."

Damian narrowed his eyes at the pans on the stove. "I cannot eat—"

"Vegan kimchi fried rice and tofu scramble," Marinette said, "I cooked something else for you."

". . . Tt. Fine." And he begrudgingly took his seat.

The three siblings watched as Marinette served a feast—the delicious aroma of breakfast wafted around the room as she carefully plated the dishes in perfect portions. She didn't know if her cooking was on par with Alfred's, but she should at least impress them for the good pay she was getting from Bruce. She set down the plates in front of them with a simple 'bon appétit!'

Duke shoveled up the food quickly. "This is so good!" He took another bite.

To this, Cass nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, Damian quietly chewed his meal, paying no compliments.

But he gazed up at Marinette. "You're not going to eat?"

"Oh, no thank you," Marinette declined, "I wouldn't want to impose, and I already ate before I came here."

It was a full-on lie. It was taking all of her strength to not let her stomach growling be heard. Although she was inside Bruce's home, she still had to act professional. Luckily, Damian only raised an eyebrow skeptically and continued eating.

***

"Is there anything else you need, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce seemed stunned for a second after seeing Marinette hand a packed lunch to Duke before he rushed out. He even taste-tested her cooking and remarked how delicious it was.

He blinked at her. "Nothing else. You've done so much already, thank you."

"I should be going home then."

"Wait." Bruce spun around to face his son. "Damian, you're heading out too. Can you drive Marinette home?"

"But Father—"

"I can commute on my own, it's no problem at all." Marinette stepped forward.

"Her residence is on your way to school," Bruce insisted. "And please let him take you, Marinette, as thanks for breakfast."

When her gaze landed on Damian, he didn't seem too happy about it. But how could she deny a free ride?

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne." She bowed slightly. "I'll see you on Monday."

***

Suffice to say, the walk to the car and most of the ride was full of awkward silence. Marinette tried not to look at Damian every second or so. She went over her mental notes about him. Damian Al Ghul Wayne. The current Robin, who's attending university. Likes animals, broody, formerly extremely violent. If she remembered correctly, he was around her age.

"Take the next right over there and my apartment's in the second building." She offered a small smile. "Thank you for the ride again."

He didn't reply.

He only followed her directions and stopped in front of her building. As a last attempt at communication, Marinette took the box with pastries left over and held it out to him.

"Here, you can take these last two. They're vegan." Marinette watched as his gaze dropped down to the box before lifting up to meet hers.

"No thank you. You should have them instead—you're starving, aren't you?" He tapped his fingers on the wheel. "Besides, you're the one who bought that."

Her eyes widened. Had she been obvious the whole time? "Um, er . . ." She retracted her arms. "Okay. Thank you."

She unclasped her seatbelt and sneaked another glance at him. She was close to opening the door when she stopped. "Hey, can you take off your seatbelt for a sec?"

He frowned. "What?"

"It won't take long, Mr. Wayne."

"I don't—" He cut himself off and sighed, most likely remembering one of their first encounters. He'd ask her to call him Damian, not 'Mr. Wayne' like his father, so she'd only use his last name when he wasn't being cooperative.

Damian did as she said and she reached over to undo his tie. He didn't say anything as she redid the lopsided knot, tying his necktie neatly and smoothing over the creases.

She didn't notice how small the distance between them had become until she felt his breath on her forehead.

"There you go." She pulled away and opened the door. "Alfred usually helps you with that, doesn't he?"

"Yes," he mumbled.

She smiled. "Good luck with your painting, Damian."

Again, silence. But Marinette pretended not to notice him fumbling with his seatbelt as she got out of the car. 

#maribat fic #maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #dc x miraculous #NMWYCAM #PA!Marinette

[dragonfirerogue-writes]

Warmth of Another pt.2

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Part One

Your couch is incredibly comfortable as you doze off to the sound of lo-fi music coming out of your speakers. The filming for your scenes were postponed because of heavy snowfall so you didn't have to come in at all. Most of those scenes were outdoors. You welcomed the break though. TV filming was harder than you thought.

You can feel your muddled thoughts lead to your castmates. The indoor scenes were still filming and some of them were stuck at the academy set. You wondered if they could make their way off set.

Your mind naturally wanders to Jenna.

You wondered how she was faring without you. In the weeks following that interaction, she seemed to gravitate to you every time you were near. The cold became a perfect excuse to hold her close. And with each following one, the hugs and cuddles became more and more intimate. More personal. Just more. Her hands wandered more and more every time they wrapped around your torso. They seemed to linger for longer when she let go. And her lips. They always left a searing mark on you when you part ways. But never on your own lips.

It drove you mad.

Suddenly, you hear your door click open. Sitting up, you watch as Jenna herself walks in, stomping her feet to rid her boots of snow. It takes a moment of confusion, but you finally draw yourself from your daze.

"Jen? What are you doin' here?" This was your apartment, not hers. You wonder if she realized that. You watch as she removes her outerwear and shakes the snow out of her hair.

"It was a shit day and I wanna cuddle."

She walks up to you and stands by, waiting for the okay to cling to you. You exhale a soft laugh and open your arms. The small Latina falls into them with a content sigh. After some readjustments, you both lay comfortably as the soft tunes filled the air.

"Rough day, huh?" Jenna just lets out a soft groan.

"Everyone seemed to be in a funk today. We were all messing up one way or another. It's a miracle we got anything done at all." She burrows deeper into your chest. "I'm just glad we got through it. I'm just ready to not be around anyone for the rest of the night."

"And yet I'm around," you cheekily reply.

"You don't count. You're my person."

Those words made your heart swell. A sense of pride flutters through and it makes you feel all the more special. Deciding to let things end there, you pull the blanket from the back of the couch and drape it over the two of you. Once settled again, you let your hands rub soothing circles on the girl's back. She lets out a soft hum of approval and clings tighter.

"I swear, I'm gonna take you home with me after we wrap." You just laugh.

"At least take me on a date first," you say, jokingly. This kind of banter you were use to. It was familiar. Though Jenna's next words threw you for a loop.

"I would if we hadn't been so busy."

Jenna watches as you blink a few times as the words process through your mind.

"Wait, what? Really?"

"Yeah! You really haven't noticed me being really touchy with you?"

"I mean, I didn't wanna assume..."

"Assume away! I really like you and you've been nothing but kind and considerate with me. Hell, even some of the others have a crush on you."

That made you sputter a little. You were a newbie to the acting scene. The fact that these actors had crushes on you was entirely new territory. Jenna lets that thought ruminate in your brain, amused at your reactions. The only hope she had was to give her a chance. Not many people like dating in the same workplace.

"Well..," you start. "If you're hungry later, I can whip something up and we can make this a date?"

With a smile, Jenna just leans in with a soft kiss. The first of many.

"Deal."

#a dragon tries to write #Jenna Ortega #Jenna Ortega x Reader

[pandenewie]

RULE TWO: Wednesday = Study Date

Prev | Masterlist | Next

“Okay, so I was thinking we could all go to the movies tonight. I heard they’re doing a rescreening of 10 Things I Hate About You tonight so, obviously, I want to go.” Danielle rambles, her arms interlinked with Eunchae and Y/n’s as the trio walk through the school halls.

“Omg, we could all dress in Y2k! It would be so cute.” Eunchae exclaims. “I could wear that top I sent in the group chat last week.” “Wait, I’m meeting up with Niki after school.” Y/n pouts, earning confused looks from their friends. “Isn’t this whole relationship just a during-school thing? Why are you guys going on an actual date?” Eunchae asks. “It’s not an actual date, it’s a study date and it’s part of the rules we set. Hanging out after school will make everything more believable.” Y/n clarifies, earning eye rolls from the girls.

“Study dates are real dates, Y/n.” Eunchae points out. “And how is it going to make things more believable if no one sees it?” Danielle asks, confused. Y/n chooses to blatantly ignore the way Danielle pointed out the clear flaws in their logic. "We'll be in the library, people will see us. Hanging out with him one day a week isn't going to kill me." Y/n frowns, earning snickers from their friends. "I'm just saying, it seems like the whole fake part of this fake dating thing is starting to become a little blurry." Eunchae shrugs.

As the day goes by, Eunchae’s words linger on Y/n’s mind. Are the rules of their fake relationship with Niki already starting to blur? Surely not… they don’t see him in any way other than a friend. Besides the hand-holding and occasional kiss on the cheek (which there’s thankfully only been one so far), they’re not doing anything out of the ordinary.

The sudden feeling of pressure on their head snaps Y/n out of their thoughts. Looking up, they see Niki standing in front of them - the pressure in question being his hand, which is currently ruffling Y/n’s hair.

“You were spaced out.” Niki states simply, stopping the contact now that he has Y/n’s attention. Y/n mumbles out an apology, bringing their hands up in an attempt to fix the hairs Niki had successfully messed up. Giving up after a few tries, Y/n goes back to sorting their art supplies (not missing the way Niki subtly readjusts the remaining messy strands.)

“Do you really need all this stuff for one day?” Niki asks, eyes wide as he takes in the variety of art supplies Y/n is shoving into their bag. It’s struggling to zip up at this point and Niki is certain they don’t need everything. “I don’t know what I’m going to be working on today so I need to be prepared for everything.” Y/n shrugs, sending a reassuring smile to Niki before attempting to sling their bag over the shoulder.

Emphasis on attempting. Niki’s eyes narrow in on Y/n’s hand - shaking ever-so-slightly due to the contents of the bag. They won’t last 2 minutes carrying that bag, let alone the 15 minute walk to the local library. With a playful roll of the eyes, Niki holds out his hand to Y/n. Y/n smiles widely up at Niki before quickly placing their hand in his - the endearing action making him break out into a grin. “I meant the bag. I’ll carry it for you.”

Niki’s words cause Y/n’s face to immediately flush with embarrassment. They practically rip their hand from his grip, face beet-red and cough awkwardly. “Oh, um… it’s okay… I’ve got it.” Y/n mumbles, adjusting their bag strap uncomfortably. Niki looks at them skeptically but shrugs nonetheless, picking his own school bag up with ease. “Whatever you say.”

Not even a minute passes before Y/n turns to Niki, their head bowed sheepishly as they hold their bag out for him to take. He smirks at this, chuckling out a quiet “I told you so” before taking the bag from their grip. Y/n promises to take over when Niki’s shoulder starts getting sore but the boy rejects the offer, claiming the bag is light and he’ll be fine. That’s a lie. It’s heavy. And Y/n’s giant sketchbook sits at an uncomfortable angle so it’s constantly digging slightly into his back. Niki, however, doesn’t mention any of this to Y/n.

The library is quiet - as expected. There’s a handful of other people throughout the building, a few families in the children’s section, elders reading the paper, and even a handful of fellow students scattered around the young adult sections. Niki and Y/n head upstairs to the common area and pick a table in the far back. That way the two are free to chat without disrupting the peace of others.

As soon as Y/n has set up their art supplies, they immediately get started working on a sketch. Remembering that the two are not just here to hang out, Niki reluctantly pulls out his school books - deciding to work on geography first.

Niki had originally picked up the class because Jay had mentioned the annual Japan trip. When he learned that he had to actually retain knowledge about countries other than Japan, he almost immediately regretted signing up.

He sits there, staring at his work for what seems like hours, internally counting each second that goes by. He reaches 487 before Y/n gently places their pencil down and looks at him expectantly. Niki looks back, slightly confused, earning a small laugh from Y/n.

“You’re clearly distracted… what’s wrong?” Y/n asks. So they did notice… Y/n’s observant like that. Despite his clear boredom and lack of motivation, some part of Niki feels the need to at least pretend he was working - as if Y/n would be more impressed that way. “Who, me? I’m not distracted… just doing my geography work.”

“Is that a pirate map?” Y/n’s question causes Niki to chuckle awkwardly. He looks down at his geography book, the colourful picture of islands, volcanos and even an x for buried treasure staring back at him. “It’s my assignment… maps are one of the most crucial parts of geography, you know?” He attempts to argue. “Real maps… of real places.” Y/n points out. Niki mumbles out how “Riki-land is a real place” earning a gentle laugh from Y/n as they reach over to grab his book. Grabbing one of their pencils, Y/n begins to quickly sketch a few things on Niki’s map.

“Maps focus on realism, which means things have to be to scale. If a map is not to scale, you can’t read it. Colours are okay as long as you say what they represent in the key, so you would have to write that the red x is where the treasure is.” Y/n states simply, handing the drawing back to Niki. They’ve done a few quick doodles to match what they were saying, annotating different parts of Niki’s map with ease. “Everyone knows x is where the treasure is.” He comments sarcastically, earning a laugh from Y/n.

“Enough about my stupid map, what are you working on?” Niki asks enthusiastically. Amid his boredom, he noticed that Y/n had been rather aggressively scribbling in their sketchbook. “I’m trying to get some of my portfolio done… but it’s not going well.” Y/n admits, nervously. They open the book to the page they were working on, a few rough sketches scribbled over and erased.

“Is there any way I can help? I don’t take art but I know enough about it.” Niki offers, watching intently as Y/n buries their head in their hands. The action causes an unfamiliar feeling to tug at Niki’s heart. “You can’t help me. Not unless you can think of something beautiful in everyday life.” Y/n mumbles. “Other than me?” Niki’s joke earns a glare in response from Y/n, only adding to his chuckles. “Come on, it’s genius! What’s more beautiful in everyday life than your boyfriend?”

Y/n thinks that’s the first time Niki has ever referred to himself as their boyfriend. They repress the butterflies that begin to swarm in the pit of their stomach and instead turn to a fresh page of their sketchbook.

“I guess it could work… maybe if I do a more candid sketch…” Y/n mumbles to themself, jotting a few words down in their book. Suddenly, Y/n’s eyes widen as an idea pops into their mind, like those moments in cartoon’s where a light bulb shines above a characters head. Maybe Niki really is a genius…

“Niki, stop posing.”

“You’re literally drawing me!”

“Yes but you’re supposed to act natural, you dork.”

Niki tilts his head awkwardly as he strikes another pose. He claims it’s to get the best angle for the drawing but secretly it’s just an excuse to make Y/n laugh. “Okay, okay, enough fooling around.” Y/n laughs before reaching forward to gently cup Niki’s face. The boy freezes at the sudden contact, the delicate touches of Y/n’s hands against his jaw causing his heart to spark wildly.

Y/n carefully moves Niki’s head to find the perfect angle - turning and tilting until it’s just right. Their hands then drop to his shoulders and go through the same steps until Niki’s pose is deemed perfect. “Okay, now don’t move until I’ve finished the outline.” Y/n mumbles. Niki doesn’t think he could move if he wanted to. It’s almost as if he’s frozen in place.

Cut it out, he thinks to himself. Y/n's a friend - nothing more, nothing less. They're already doing him a big favour by helping him out with the whole dating thing - the last thing he wants to do is betray their kindness with unreciprocated feelings. If even he's trying hard to push away these fluttering thoughts, he can only imagine how put off Y/n would be.

"Look at me." Y/n mumbles softly. Niki doesn't want to look - scared that his eyes say everything that's running through his mind. He does though. And he's grateful he does.

Y/n's nose scrunches slightly when they concentrate; a cute detail Niki has failed to notice until now. They also bite their lip when they're thinking particularly hard and tap their pen when they're trying to remember their train of thought.

"You have nice eyebrows." Y/n comments mindlessly as their hand comes up to gently move a strand of hair from Niki's eye. It's so they can see his face more clearly… for the drawing… definitely not an excuse just to touch his hair.

"Uh… thanks? I grew them myself." Niki mumbles, his eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touch. Y/n snorts at his words and Niki curses at himself for missing the view of them laughing up close. Niki's face suddenly feels very, very cold and he opens his eyes to see that Y/n has completely moved away.

"I think I've got the main points. You can move around freely now." Y/n smiles. "Can I see?" Niki asks, eagerly. Y/n's face tints pink at Niki's enthusiasm as they sheepishly turn the book around to show him. "I just did the outlines and stuff so it's nothing special yet…" Y/n’s words get drowned out as Niki’s gaze zones in on the drawing. Sure, the features aren’t fully there yet (in fact, the face is just mapped out with circles and lines) but the pure attention to detail in the outline is enough to have Niki’s eyes widening.

“That's nothing special? It’s better than hours of work from me.” He gapes in awe. “Like seriously, how are you this talented?” Y/n didn’t think they could get any redder but in comes Niki with his compliments and they’ve already achieved a shade of blush they didn’t know was humanly possible. “Do you think you’ll finish it tonight?” The question causes Y/n to look at Niki with confusion. What’s with the rush? “Uh… I mean, maybe? Drawing people always takes longer since it’s so easy to mess up.” Y/n trails off. “Could you try? I really wanna see the final product.” Niki almost begs, his eyes shining slightly as he looks from the drawing to Y/n. How on earth can they say no when he looks so happy?

Y/n had expected Niki to go back to his own work when they began drawing again - maybe play on his phone or sit there bored out of his mind. They did not expect him to place his chin in his hands and watch every pencil stroke in awe.

“How’s your map coming along?” Y/n asks sarcastically. They know Niki hasn’t even looked at his work in over an hour now. The boy just hums in response, eyes still glued to the drawing that is slowly coming together. It’s almost like he’s in a trance - watching the way Y/n’s hand skillfully glides the pencil across the page. It’s soothing. Before Niki knows it, his eyes begin to flutter shut.

The sound of his name being whispered along with a gentle poke to the nose slowly pulls Niki out of his slumber. His eyes flutter open just enough to see Y/n smiling at him, immediately fluttering closed once again when he realises they were the one who disrupted his sleep.

“Niki… we’ve gotta go… the library’s closing soon.” Y/n mumbles, poking Niki’s nose once again. The boy groans and shakes his head, burying it further into his arms. “Just leave me here.” He mumbles, tiredly. “They’re gonna kick us out in a second.” Y/n sighs. “And besides, I have to walk you home. I don’t trust you to not pass out on the way.” Niki only groans more at this, the thought of being walked home takes a shot at his pride.

“Come on, you big dork.” Y/n teases, using all their strength to pull Niki up by the arm. "Only if you let me walk you home." Niki bargains, narrowing his eyes at Y/n. Rolling their eyes at Niki's stubbornness, Y/n agrees.

Niki's pride will be the death of him. Why couldn't he just let Y/n walk him home? Because he wants to appear manly and strong and in his stupid mind, walking Y/n home proves both those things. That's how he found himself stumbling in the opposite direction of his house, carrying both his and Y/n's bags and aggressively blinking away any signs of sleep. Thankfully, Y/n's house isn't too far away.

"We're here." Y/n suddenly speaks and Niki realises it's the first time either of them said a word since they left the library. Niki looks up at Y/n's house - it's relatively small, nicely decorated and Niki can see the outline of a cat waiting in the window.

"Thanks for walking with me, even if you almost fell asleep halfway." Y/n smiles. "Don't sweat it." Niki shrugs, ruffling Y/n's hair before handing them their school bag. "Oh! Before I forget," Y/n exclaims, opening the bag and pulling out their sketchbook. They flip to the page with the drawing of Niki and rip it out, handing him the paper. "Think of it as a 'thanks for walking me home' present." They continue, smiling brightly.

Niki's brows furrow slightly as he takes the paper in his grasp. "I thought this was for your portfolio?" He asks. "It was… but I want you to have it," Y/n says sweetly. Niki never knew such simple words could cause his heart and mind to go so crazy. "And besides, I could always just draw you again."

Niki's blushing - possibly more than he ever has before. He thanks his lucky stars that it's dark out, cause there's no way in hell he could joke his way out of this one. No one gets this red over a friend.

"Thanks… now I feel like I should give you something." Niki mumbles, hurriedly opening his bag to find anything that he could gift to Y/n. Finding his geography book, he quickly opens it and rips out his pirate map (a lot less gracefully than Y/n had). He hands it to Y/n with a wide smile, the expression and gesture making them snort with laughter.

"Thanks, Niki." Y/n smiles. "Uh… you can call me Riki if you want." The words come out before Niki even has time to process what he said. Did he really just tell them to use his real name? His friends don't even call him that most days.

"Oh..  okay." Y/n smiles. "I should probably get inside. Thanks for walking me home… and for the pirate map… have a good night, Riki." Niki ignores the way his heart flutters at the sound of his name pushing past Y/n's lips. "I'll see you at school tomorrow." Niki mumbles, watching as Y/n steps into the house. He waits until they're safely inside to start walking back to his place.

Niki goes to bed that night more confused than when he woke up. He likes spending time with Y/n, watching them draw and making them laugh. He even liked carrying their stupid bag with far too many art supplies. But all of that doesn't mean that he likes them… 

…

Does it?

TAG LIST: @j-wyoung @thesassy-mia @luvistqrzzz @yourmyst4r @heerinnie @odisdad @wzy3ka @mrchweeee @rizzkisworld @beomsbeanie @ablackbtsstan @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams @kang-yeosangs-initials @wildflowermooon @k1ttylvr @pinapplefntacupss @luva1y @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @en-happiness @haechansbbg @ashiitex @nuttyenthusiastdaze

#enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen niki #niki fanfic #niki fanfiction #niki x reader #niki fluff #enhypen riki #nishimura riki #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen jungwon #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop x reader #kpop fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #fluff

[dr3amlab]

2. wicked games, dm.

SUMMARY — Y/N Gorgon and Draco Malfoy have a long history of mutual hatred. You see, the two of them have been pulling pranks on each other since their 1st year at Hogwarts, to the dismay of their close friends and supervisors. However, after a prank left Y/N completely out of her mind, she decides that she'll pull her cruelest prank yet on Draco by pretending to be his secret admirer.

PAIRING — Draco Malfoy x reader

GENRE — series, enemies to lovers, rival, comedy (?)

WORD COUNT — 2045 words.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I'm not too proud of this chapter not gonna lie :(( I hope that it’s good enough, and any criticism is welcome as long as its not harsh lmaooo

PARTS. 1 2 3 4 5 6 finale

TAGLIST — @hopefulfuturenovelauthor​ @charlenasaxen​ @johnmurphys-sass​  @alittlebitofinsanitea​

couldn’t tag  @louieblue2 and @born2222die

II. VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY 

We all have memories we'll never forget. Those memories bear an impact on us, an impact so big that they are engraved in the back of our brains forever. For instance, you remember the first time you ate a chocolate frog, the first time you watched the snow fall from your bedroom’s window and you'll never forget your first encounter with Draco Malfoy. In opposition to the first memories, the latter was not a pleasant recollection.

It was on your first ever day at Hogwarts and you remember smiling from ear to ear as you entered the mesmerizing facility. The building was, and still is, magnificent beyond words could ever describe. You were taking it all in, staring at every object or construction you could as if they might disappear the moment you'd tear your eyes from them: the grand doors, the walls, the ceiling— oh, how the ceiling was beautiful; it was bewitched to seem as if it was a starry night. Even though you'd had the opportunity to stargaze thousands of times in your life, you were mesmerized because this was a sight you never had the chance to see. "It’s so pretty y/n!" your childhood friend, Athena, exclaimed equally as impressed as you. "I know right!" you beamed as you continued to watch the false stars twinkle, "it’s impre—" Before you were able to end your sentence, you had collided with another student, making you both fall on the ground. "Watch it you idiot." you stared up to meet a pair of grey eyes. "I’m sorry, I was just— " You were cut off."Staring at the ceiling? Is it the first time you ever saw a ceiling?"The boy spat with a condescending tone, making you scowl at his unnecessary spitefulness. He got up and readjusted his robes while bearing an angry expression on his face. Following his motions, you also stood up and started to dust off your clothes. "Merlin, I think you made me scratch my brand-new shoes." He scowled while staring at his shoes for a few seconds. Then he looked back at you, ready to reprimand you as if he was your teacher or your father. "Do you know how mu—"You cut him off, "Merlin, you are so shallow!" You frowned. "I didn’t do it on purpose, and I apologized," you emphasized on the last word. "So can we please put this behind us," you smiled, trying to suppress your anger. Noticing that he was about to open his mouth to fight back, Athena spoke quickly to stop the nonsense that was probably going to come out of his lips. "Come on y/n, let’s not get in trouble on our first day." She grabbed your arm making you turn around to face her "besides he’s overreacting," she said softly. "He’s an immature boy." You nodded at your best friend’s words: She’s right, you should not give a bad impression to the teachers before you even got sorted into your house. "Yeah you’re right, he’s just a little prick." You smiled smugly. "How dare you?!" the irritating person spoke again and to be honest, you almost forgot about his presence. You thought that he’d be gone by now to follow the rest of the first-year students to the dining hall but, to your dismay, he didn’t do you this favor. "Have you got no shame to say that I’m a prick right in front of my face?" He scoffed. "I can’t believe I have to deal with such peasants on my first day." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Peasants?" Just like that, a frown made back its way to your face. "Are you out of your mind for saying stuff like this?" He smirked, clearly satisfied that he got to you easily. "Why? Are you saying that you’re not a peasant?"you clenched your jaw."Because you sure do look like one!" You looked at him in disbelief before turning your head to the right to speak to Athena. "How can a twelve-year-old have this much arrogance in their body?" You then turned your head back to him and narrowed your eyes, "look," you spoke menacingly, "You should apologize for what you just said because you really don’t want to get on my bad side," you continued. "Get on your bad side?" He laughed, "please, do you even know who I am? Do you know who my father is?"He spoke as if you were supposed to shiver timbers at the mention of his father. "I don’t care who your father is." You crossed your arms, "as a matter of fact, you can tell your daddy," you took a step closer to him, "to shove whatever empty threat he thinks is going to scare me up his bum!"The blond boy became as red as a tomato and if steam could come out of his ears, you would have been able to see lots of it, like a chimney on a cold winter day."You fucking mud-blood,"he spoke through his teeth, "you just dug your own grave" you watched him intentively, waiting for his next words. "You’re not ready for what’s coming for you," he continued. "Mom, I’m scared!" You ducked your head and brought your crossed arms to your shoulders to pretend like you were shielding yourself from danger. You and athena laughed heartily at your actions while the blond boy was looking at the both of you with a discontent look on his face. After you had calmed down from laughing, you switched back to crossing your arms, but this time, you were staring at him challengingly. « Bring it on» you smirked. You were in for a hell of a ride. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ And so, you and Draco started to get back at each other to make each other’s life as bad as possible. There wasn’t a day during the school year when one of you wasn’t yelling profanities at the other. Hogwarts had not known a single peaceful day since the two of you first stepped foot in its castle. At first, the pranks were innocent, to say the least: They ranged from you stealing a school book to Draco hiding a tarantula in your bedsheets. Plus, the fact that you both were sorted in the same house made it easier to access each other’s dorms and thus made you even more creative with the pranks like replacing shampoo with green hair dye for example (Draco remembers this one all too well.) There was an unspoken rule between you and Draco: Each time a prank is pulled, the counterattack has to be crueler. There were clearly no limits to the extent to which you guys would go to make sure the other's day is ruined. Currently, you were hiding behind a wall that led to the hallway where Draco was located. You were prying on Draco and his clique who were currently having a boring conversation. You looked at the pink envelope you held in your hand knowing damn well that it was going to make their day a tad exciting. The thing is, you didn’t know how to give it to him without revealing your identity. You sighed out of frustration: You could’ve put it on his bed as you could access his dormitory easily or even put it on the table of the Slytherin common room but then, it’ll be too obvious that the letter was from you. Your mind was hurting from thinking of possible ways to give Draco the letter without potentially being framed as its writer. Suddenly, a boy that looked like he could be a first-year had the misfortune to cross your path. You smiled in victory as you waited for him to come closer to you so you could speak to him without being heard. "Hey, you!" you whispered as loud as you could to the first-year Hufflepuff that was coming your way. The young boy looked scared and pointed to himself, making sure that you actually wanted to catch his attention. "Yes, you!" He gulped not knowing what you could want from him. "Come quick, I’m not gonna bite you!" He walked towards you hurriedly. You handed him the pink envelope containing the love letter, "give this to Draco Malfoy" You pointed to the platinum-haired boy and his eyes widened at the sight of the boy, "to M-malfoy?" Of course, no first-year would ever want to be in a 100-meters radius of Draco unless they wanted to be humiliated in the worst way possible. "Just give it to him!" You said annoyed. You didn’t quite understand why the entire school was scared shitless of Malfoy, he’s just all bark and no bite. "Look, don’t worry," you reassured him, "if he says anything to you I’ll step in," you smiled. Though, you knew that he was not going to do anything because the letter will distract him. "Now go and don’t tell him who gave it to you," you warned "under any circumstances," you added, "and when you’re done come back to me," he gulped not looking too sure about running this errand for you but, then, he nodded before turning on his heels and walking towards Draco. "This is about to get interesting," you thought as you watched the boy’s figure walk towards Malfoy. Your breath itched when the first-year arrived next to Draco and you watched the scene unfold. "Well, well, well," Draco smirked, "what gave you the courage to come this close to me?' The boy looked stressed, fearing what will happen in the next few minutes. "S-someone asked me to give this to you," he presented to him the pink envelope with both of his hands while shutting his eyes closed scared of Draco’s next move "what’s this?" The blond boy said curiously while snatching the letter from the boy’s hands. He opened the letter hurriedly wanting to know what was in the envelope contained. Then, the moment you were waiting for the most came: He took out the piece of paper and started to read. You felt nervous, to say the least, and you hoped that your prank would work. You continued to watch Draco as his eyes were fixated on the words written before him. And then, to your pleasure, the ghost of a smile appeared on Malfoy's lips. "He smiled," you grinned. It was a small smile, almost unnoticeable, yes but he still smiled. Draco must’ve felt the grin that wanted to display on his lips badly and so, he bit his bottom lip to suppress it as much as he could. Malfoy cleared his throat, "You can go now," he said to the first year who nodded eagerly to be out of Draco’s sight as fast as he could. "Before, you go," Draco said making the Hufflepuff boy stop in his tracks, "who gave you this letter?" you could feel the first-year panic, "I-i’m afraid that I can’t tell you." Malfoy looked at him attentively before speaking up again, "Merlin, just go what are you still doing here!" This time, the younger boy ran away from Draco to meet you behind the wall you were hiding behind. You watched as the boy came back to meet you "Was I dreaming or did I see a smile on his lips?" You asked the boy, "I-I think I saw him smile too" you clasped your hands happily while looking at the ceiling, "thank you merlin," you said with a huge smile on your face. The boy looked at you curiously, "what was in the letter?" You tore your eyes from the ceiling to look back at him, "That is none of business," you said, "However, I have a feeling that you’ll be my partner in crime," you smiled. "So, what’s your name?" the boy spoke up, "My name is Sasha." You put a hand on his shoulder, « Sasha, I have a feeling that you and I will get along very well,» you said before turning around to leave the hallway. "Malfoy, you are so dumb," you chuckled as you skipped to your next class happily. Sasha looked very confused as he watched your strange demeanor. "What did I get myself into?" He said tiredly.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco Malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy x you #Draco Malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy ff #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco x you #draco fic #draco ff #draco au #draco enemies to lovers #harry potter #Harry Potter fic #slytherin fan fic #slytherin #dm x reader #dm x you

[mvchmp]

Clark with a Street Racer Reader please 🙏🏼 I adore dork x delinquent trope

Clark Kent x Street Racer reader

| gender of reader isn't mentioned, 2 mentions of Y/n

- ending is kinda rushed bc ididnt know how to end it im sorry if reader wasnt delinquent enough 🙏

USE YOUR SEATBELTS PEOPLE

I had just finished dropping off my friend at her house after a long day of catching up. I had brought her to watch one of my races before ending the day. 

It was now around 8pm and since there were only a few cars on the road, I decided to drive around for a bit. 

Nights like these were happening often thanks to the safety that Superman assured. The alleys looked much safer now, and walking around in sidewalks seemed more peaceful than scary. 

Driving past the Daily Planet building wasn't all that unusual to me than it was when I had just moved to Metropolis. It's on a route I usually use to go to the races I secretly attend so I had pretty much gotten used to seeing it.

Tonight was one of those times I went that route. Though I'm already used to seeing it, I found it a habit to look over and at least glance at the building. 

Yet, this time, instead of the numerous workers checking out of the premises, one man stood there. Clark Kent. The big guy with the cute glasses. 

We had met a few times, occasionally in the elevator where he'd sometimes press the buttons too hard. Or in the hallways when he's bringing groceries inside their apartment. We'd throw some greetings like "Hello" and "Hey" in those small encounters, asking what's up sometimes.

Him and his friend Jimmy who lived with him had mentioned they were interning at the Daily Planet recently - which explained why we had been meeting more often in the morning. Though, normally Jimmy would be beside Clark. Every time they went to work, and every time they got back.

Tonight, he was alone, exiting the building. As a friend, though I don't think friends find each other that attractive, I slowed down my speed and halted in front of the guy.

"Hey, Clark! Where's Jimmy?" I ask as I roll down my window, revealing my face.  "Oh, he got sick so he had to go home early. Probably something he ate." He said, rubbing the back of his neck, smiling a bit. 

"That sounds horrible. I hope he gets better soon, I'm not used to seeing you alone, you know?" I chuckle softly before continuing, "Were you about to head home? I am so maybe I can give you a ride?" I offered, keeping a hand on the steering wheel.

Surely enough, I was a bit nervous because of the thought that I'd have to drive home alone feeling rejected by my handsome, cute but hunky neighbor. But thankfully, he did not.

"Oh, sure! Thanks a lot, Y/n." He said with the same smile on his face which I absolutely adored. "Well, get in." I said, unlocking the doors for him.

I watched as he walked around the car to open the door of the passenger seat beside me and settle there. I tapped the steering wheel gently to the beat of the song that was playing on the radio while waiting for him to finish buckling his seatbelt.

"You should wear a seatbelt too, you know?" I heard his voice start beside me. "Well, there's no cops around this time of night. No one would catch me." I tell him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Yeah, but for safety reasons. That's what seat belts were made for, right?" He said cautiously, as if trying to warn me. Though his obvious concern was adorable like him, I was stubborn enough to think that I was and will be completely fine without a seat belt considering the fact that I've raced a hundred or more times.

"Meh, I'll be fine. You hang on tight, though." I smiled at him, readjusting my posture. He mumbled a yeah, grinning softly and pushing his glasses back onto his nose properly.

I start driving through the streets, humming to the song that plays on the speakers. Looking at the side mirrors every now and then. There was a somewhat awkward air between us and knowing myself, if it got awkward enough I'd start bouncing my leg up and down which would result to obviously a car accident.

Now, I'm not risking it so I tried to bring up some small talk. "So.. How's working at the Daily Planet? I bet you and Jimmy are already cooking up those stories" I blurted.

"Ah, no, not really. Actually, me and another intern there worked on a piece about Superman but sadly, the 'professional' writers got credit for it." He heaved out a sigh and shook his head, looking out the window.

"I'm sorry that happened. You guys worked so hard for it just for other people to get credited for your efforts? That's ridiculous if you're gonna ask me." I said, supporting what he must feel right now. I heard him mumble a small 'yeah' and couldn'ilt make out the other words he said.

Reaching a pretty quiet and calm road, I decided to give into my temptations a little bit and speed up for a bit of thrill. For me, it wasn't all that bad given that I had driven a lot faster than this but, Clark on the other hand, seemed the opposite. 

I laughed slightly at him saying, "Chill down, Clark. I got you, no need to be so scared." noticing he had clutched onto the seat belt and somewhere else on the car which I didn't pay much mind to. 

"Why are you going so fast?! That's dangerous! This is dangerous!" He exclaimed, receiving another laugh from me before I slowed down again, resting him from an almost heart attack. 

I chuckled a bit more before responding, "I find it fun, driving as if I'm in a Fast & Furious movie." 

"Yeah, but it's not so fun when you're not safe." He snapped back at me. I smiled at him "Okay, I'm sorry, Clark. I'll be careful." I told him. Oh, this man was beautiful. He seems like such a dork and I just love that about him. I wonder how he'd react if he found out I race cars practically as a job.

A few minutes of small talk, we finally arrived at our apartment building. I parked my car in the parking lot underground which was designated for us residents. "Here we are." I announced to him. "Yeah, thanks for the ride. I just saved myself more time rather than waiting and looking for a cab. Really, thank you so much." He said

"Anytime, I mean, it's the least I can do to help my neighbor." I smiled sweetly at him before opening the door of my car and getting out.

As he stepped out too and closed my door, I locked it with the keys. I looked at him and to my surprise, he was already looking at me. I noticed a tint of pink shade on his face as our eyes locked.

"Let's go" I said, smiling a bit at him. 

Exiting the elevator and walking through the hallway, we finally arrived at the doors of our apartments. I faced him and bid my goodbyes, "Goodnight, Clark. Send my wishes to Jimmy." I told him and turned around to push my keys into the doorknob.

I heard him call me right before I opened the door. "Yes?" I asked him. "Thank you again for the ride. I didn't mean to bother you and- stuff. If ever you're up to it, and only if you are, would you like to grab some food sometime? Just to pay back for what you did for me today." He again rubbed his nape, avoiding my gaze and the same pink on his face.

I found it cute and why would I turn down a possible date with my hot-and-adorable-at-the-same-time neighbor? "Not that you're obliged to pay me back, and believe me it wasn't a favor you have to pay back for, but I would love to grab some food with you, sometime." I said, feeling my own cheeks heat up.

"Great, that's great. Um, yes, goodnight Y/n. Have a wonderful night!" He said, entering his own apartment. 

#my adventures with superman #clark kent x reader #dc #maws imagines #maws x you #maws #superman x reader #superman imagines #clark kent #superman #clark kent imagines

[vamqyr3]

↳ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY // 2013. ᴥ

EP 1 .

CW// Yelling, idk it’s angst what do you want, aftermath of Simon dying and leaving you with a kid.

You pour two parts pasta, one part cheese, lined to the backing on the box. Shifting his little feet to lay along the leg wide holes cut through his high chair. “Luke give it a minute, honey.” He’s a thoughtless toddler, without a response. Bits of cereal to fling around on sticky floors, honeyed watermelon and carrot paste. He had been restless since 7 months. Peopled have stopped Inviting you to things, piled next to your water bill and oily napkin bunch. The large of you knew he didn’t deserve the butt end of it. Your nature is casted into stone. From loved, thought of and care for to distant and diseased. Hugged from time to time, yet no one’s trying to lay with crazy.

His father was a dead beat, not his fault. Not yours. His, the fathers, Simons, his fault. It was hardly and appropriate breakfast, now matted to the front of his cotton shark print top.

He’s zipped into the back car seat. You hope to see the day he’s attached to the booster, then left without one. Sad to see it from the front cushions, driving, give or take a new decade.

His school isn’t far it’s the drive that’s hard. One hand to his aid one to the front. Remembering which way to turn, if he was still breathing, did you buckle the left strap? How fast are you going?

The plastic of his fist sized shoes squeak under his foot. Slides past the front gate, squishy playground and over to where you could not see. You’re off today unfortunately. Meant to report to base and check up with whoever from 141 was left with the shortest stick. It was patronizing, the jut of the gas pedal and the stop for ID. You were no child meant for coddling, you just so happen to have a child, one of Simon’s.

”Doing any better?” The walk here made you sick, the air had a smell of dust and rubbing alcohol. Price’s hat made you sick, the pins on his desk slipped down your throat and jabbed you stomach. “How’s Luke?”

“Fine,”

“You should let me n’ Gaz take him out, yeah?”

“Oh then what after that Price?” “Listen,”

“Take my son out for a drink? Show him a few tricks in your big ass truck? Price? I want you to show my child how to load a gun, captain. You know what why don’t you just carry him off to the front lines while you’re at it?” He just sort of stands there, takes in a breath like he’s going to speak and readjusts.

“It’s my day off you know I don’t have to be here,”

“Yes you do,”

“On whose orders?” “Mine,”

“Right, Right the same ones that got Simon killed, it’s all clicking sorry,”

There’s a sort of prickle to those words, it tickles his face and makes wrinkles. “You knew damn well what you were gettin into,”

“Oh my god, how many times are you going to send for me just for us to have this same argument? I hate it, I hate it here. Theres that same goddamn picture that’s been up since our first date. And the fucking Gym still has the same equipment. How many times am I going to look at that stupid ass wall of yours and remember the time Simon put a hole in it? Like I can’t, I look at my sons skin and I worry just how long it takes till all of our grief leaves scars on it.”

Price finally lets go of that breath. “Look, the boys are worried,”

You were too, shifting to anchor yourself. No part of this was supposed to leave you gasping at night. To have your son set In a deep driven drudge of speechless resentment. To have him shielded yet still affected. Up asking why he couldn’t show off his dads sporting gear like Hunter could. Luke has no father, he never did. And that wasn’t your fault or his.

“I have to pick my son up,”

FIN. // EP 2. // MASTERLIST.

@bootboob @yippeerrrs @ghostsfavhoe

@the-faceless-bride @konigsblog @russadler

ect… I couldnt find all of them.. send in an ask for tag list

#cod ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw22

[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 2: Titfucking

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 3684

Warnings: Afab!reader, chubby!reader, oral sex (male receiving), titfucking

A/N: This is technically tied into my fic 'never fallen from quite this high' as it uses the same reader character, but its not required to read that first and this works as a standalone too. : )

⭐

It’s no great secret Childe likes your tits. 

He could be annoyingly transparent about it at times, pawing at your chest with incessant focus for long stretches until they throbbed and ached something fierce for him. He was like a man obsessed — or perhaps it would’ve been more apt to compare him to a little boy, still fascinated by the warmth and comfort they provide to some innately animal part of his brain. Always eager to rest his head on the pillowy softness or hide his face away in their fleshy cradle, some days it was all you could do just to keep him at bay. 

And that was to say absolutely nothing of your success rate. 

That he creeps up behind you in the small kitchen of the cabin, sneakily reaching around to cup his big hands around your breasts, isn’t a surprise in and of itself. You startle at the sudden contact though, nearly flinging the ball of dough you’d been kneading into the far wall when your hands instinctively fly up to fight off your would-be attacker. But then the identity of those hands clicks into place and, recalling that you two were the only ones occupying this desolate stretch of land in Snezhnaya’s frozen wilderness, you heave out a deeply bothered sigh. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?” 

Laughing, Childe leans closer behind you to tuck his chin against your shoulder despite the formidable height difference between you two, and you let him do it because … because you liked the feel of him against you. His smell and his body heat. It seemed that no matter how much you tried to steel your resolve, you never could quite keep up the pretense for very long. 

“Don’t be like that. I just wanted to check in on my favorite girl and see what you’re making.” 

You smile even though you try very hard not to, picking up the flour dusted dough once more so you can start rolling it between your hands again. “Sushki, and it’s not going to get done if you keep distracting me.” 

Humming against your neck, he slides his hands up a bit higher to readjust and secure his hold on your chest, lifting the weight of them from your body. You falter slightly, feeling your resolve crack just that tiny bit with temptation, but you make a concerted effort to keep your mind focused on the task at hand. There was no justifiable reason to keep rewarding his bad behavior by giving in to his spur of the moment mischief and fancies like this. You were just going to have to stay strong. 

“Aww, don’t tell me you plan on ignoring me.” He whines against your neck, sounding appropriately hurt and put out when you don’t give him the reaction he’d been hoping for. You refused to fall for it though. His tricks may have worked on you the first few dozen times but you were putting your foot down. 

“If that is what it takes to be left to my baking in peace, then yes.” 

A quiet beat passes over the kitchen, and you don’t miss the sly inflection in his voice when he softly hums a moment later. “That sounds like a challenge to me, girlie. Sure you’re up for it?” 

You stiffen slightly, the muscles in your body locking tight when he gives your tits a slow, savory squeeze over your clothes and apron. A flood of heat rushes to your face even while you frantically try to stamp that subconscious reaction back down where it belongs, but it’s no use. His hands are large and inviting, easily bearing the full brunt of your chest in his palms, and you were regrettably weak for it. He made you feel delicate and small without even really needing to try when he was just naturally so much bigger than you. 

Forgetting about the dough, you just stand there and let him grope at your breasts with slow, steady ministrations that have your mind wandering to decidedly indecent thoughts. Squeezing, kneading; he takes his time with it until you eventually sway on your feet, becoming increasingly more light headed and dizzy. Hungry, for him. 

Childe shifts against you and starts peppering your neck in suggestive kisses while his hands move to slip beneath the front of your apron. A quiet whimper bubbles up in your throat when his palms brush over the stiffened teats underneath, already perked up in anticipation of receiving more of that delicious friction. He intuitively knows what will drive you crazy and you don’t have to ask for it as he drags his fingers over them, making sure they catch and rub against the silky inner chemise you were wearing. Haltingly, you reach out to brace against the counter. 

You suddenly felt twenty degrees hotter than you had just a moment ago, and it had already been comfortably warm thanks to the cackling fireplace he dutifully tended to throughout the day to make sure you stayed warm enough. One could argue that you were overheated now though, and you don’t complain when he eventually slides his hands back to tug at the tie around your waist. The absence of any layer of clothing would be a welcome one. 

The apron comes loose and he turns you around to face him with gentle hands on your hips. You’re not the least bit surprised to find a victorious grin splitting his face in half, but you don’t stop him from pulling the smock over your head so he can toss it aside. He backs you up against the counter then, pinning you against it, and a shuddering gasp rattles out of you when he grabs your chest again, squeezing and pushing up to squish them together underneath your blouse. 

“Looks like I win.” He murmurs, blue eyes glimmering as they rake over your expression with a voracity you'd long since come to recognize in him. 

“I don’t remember conceding …” 

“Oho, we’ll see about that.” 

Abandoning your tits in favor of grabbing for the hem of your top, he unceremoniously rucks it up to bunch under your chin. You put up a cursory struggle, pushing at his shoulder even when you think that you would rather be pulling him closer right now, but it hardly seems to matter in the end. Childe was downright undeterrable once he set his mind to something, and he wastes no time shoving your chemise up as well so he can bare your chest to the room. To him. 

He quickly swoops down, catching a pert nipple in his hot mouth and you jolt, loosing a surprised moan even as you bring your hands up to clutch at his head. Groaning against your skin, he settles in to suck and work the hardened nub over with his lashing tongue. You sink back against the counter, relaxing into the sensation while he reaches for the other tit to give it a hard, savory squeeze. Sometimes it felt like he wasn’t going to give up until warm milk started coming out of you, and this was one of those times. He was just plain incorrigible. 

“Ajax … you don’t have to do that. I got the point.” 

Finally coming up off your spit coated teat with a wet pop, he lets out a breathy laugh that tickles your skin. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. I won’t stop until you admit defeat!” 

Turning his head, he drags the flat of his tongue across the other nipple and completely ignores your weakly issued protests. That’s not enough for him though, and you whimper when he abruptly pushes your tits together again. Tipping his head, Childe seals his mouth around the tips of both breasts where they’re pressed together so he can easily flick his tongue back and forth between the two. He alternates to suckling a moment later, and then right back to swirling around the now aching points. You squirm against him, unable to stop yourself from acting on it anymore as you press your thighs together in a blithe attempt to alleviate some of the building tension there. Archons, you were already sticky and wet. 

You weren’t sure how much more of this you’d be able to take, and you give his shoulder a weak shove to try and push him away from your aching breasts. To your surprise, he actually relents and pulls off you, straightening up from his deep bend this time so he can shuffle back a step. You couldn’t have missed the heady look of arousal flashing across his face even if you’d wanted to, your own seeming to double down at the sight of him so excited and eager. 

When he reaches for your waist, affectionately pinching the love handles there, you let him pull you away from the counter towards the open center of the small kitchen. It’s not hard to see he’s up to more mischief the way he looks at you, grinning like a damn fool, but you still gladly relent when he guides you down to kneel on the floor. Your pussy gives a muted throb as he reaches for the front of his pants, growing wetter between the legs at the soft rattle of his belt. There was no denying you wanted him any longer, right here and now, just like this, and you eagerly rise up on your knees to brace your hands on the fronts of his lean thighs as his stiff cock springs free. 

Groaning hotly, Childe palms the top of your head with one hand while the other reaches down to grip himself, guiding that stiff, seeking length to your mouth. You open wide and swallow him down as far as you can comfortably take him, sparks of pleasure igniting low in your gut when the taste of him floods your senses. A faint hint of salt and male musk, the pine needle scent of fresh cleaned laundry. It all merged to create a truly potent cocktail on your tongue, and you moan around him as you start bobbing your neck. 

“That’s it, get this nice and wet for me.” He grunts, knees bending into a slouch so he can angle his pelvis just right and slowly fuck into your mouth. “I’ve got a surprise for you here in a minute.” 

You shoot him a quick, suspicious look but you’re a little too distracted with the task at hand to linger on it for long. Gripping his thighs, you work your mouth over him at a steady pace, stopping only long enough to either drag your tongue across the prominent vein running down his cock or to kiss and suckle at the sensitive glans. He groans appreciatively, bucking his hips just enough to nudge at the back of your throat. But just like with anything else, once Childe has set his sights on a goal it’s impossible to deter him from it and he soon pulls you off him, much to your groaning disappointment. 

Licking your spit coated lips, you lean back to look up at him again, this time with a needy, imploring pout. You were ready for him, your pussy so wet with sticky slick you could feel it starting to bleed into your panties. He doesn’t even acknowledge it though, stooping down instead to grab your tits and shove them together. You realize what he’s doing a moment too late, and you squawk a tremulous protest as he edges himself close enough to slip his cock into the meaty press, groaning hotly while he does it. 

“Ajax - -!” 

The only response you get is another low, rumbling moan while he wedges his rigid length into the warm space between your breasts. Mewling faintly, you tip your head down to watch the head of his cock appear, spearing up through the soft crease of cleavage, before receding again when he angles his pelvis back. Saliva leaves your skin damp in the wake of his stilted, drawn out thrust, lubricating the way for the next, and he quickly settles into a sedate rhythm that leaves you whining in the back of your throat. 

“That’s not fair!” You insist, hands hovering uselessly when you were unsure if you wanted to push him away or just accept your fate. The latter didn’t look so bad, even though your pussy gives a muted little clench in response … 

“What’s the matter, girlie? Huh? Did you want this cock somewhere else?” 

He outright laughs at the frustrated groan you let out, his own voice heavy and strained with most of his focus on keeping the angle just right to fuck your tits. His long fingers dig into soft, cushiony flesh while he holds them in place, tightly pressed together and just shy of discomfort. The stiff glide of his cock sparks another sympathetic flutter in your cunt, increasing the tension and making it that much harder to endure. You wanted him inside you, not like … this! 

“You are such a brat.” Practically blubbering there on the floor, you turn your head away from the sight of him using your breasts like this. It was too much for you to bear when your body was practically screaming for him, begging for the intoxicating stretch of his cock.  

“Don’t say that,” He huffs, almost laughing again. “I’ll gladly give you what you want if you just tell me what I want to hear. Until then, these gorgeous tits of yours are keeping me quite happy.” 

You try your best to ignore him and his taunting, determined to stand your ground instead of giving in like you usually do when he pushes your buttons, but the continuous assault on your senses quickly wins out. From the smooth, fleshy glide of his cock making it so easy for you to imagine it thrusting between your legs and even easier for you to want it more than maintaining your silly pride, to the soft, blatantly provocative sounds he makes for your benefit, it truly was a losing battle. 

“Ajax, please …” You whimper at last, wincing at the sharp sting of his fingers digging into your breasts. “You win, alright? I concede, just — please stop doing that! It’s so embarrassing …”

Heaving a harsh grunt, he fucks into your tits a little harder. A little faster. “Now, why would you go and say that when you’re making me feel so good? You know how much I love these … so big and heavy, bless the seven, I don’t think you even realize how much your body drives me wild.” 

You bring your head back around, shuddering intensely when you look up at him flexing over you and his narrow hips sputter slightly with the effort of thrusting from this angle. The deeply aroused expression on his face shatters what last little bit of resolve you’d been clinging to and you instinctively arch your back, shoving your tits out towards him with a faltering noise of desperation. 

“I need you, Ajax! I want to feel you inside of me,” You tell him in a hoarse, faltering whisper as you finally make your decision and bring your hands to your chest, helping him hold your tits in place. “You can use my breasts like this but then please make me cum while you're on top of me … please.” 

“Oh, girlie, don’t say that.” 

With a choked off, stuttering groan, he seems to force his hips to still, leaving his cock wedged between your tits for a long, savory moment. It appears to take a great deal of effort for him to do it but, finally, he manages to slowly let up the tight grip of his fingers. Letting go of you with no shortage of reluctance, he gradually straightens up out of that deep stoop and tips his head back, groaning up at the ceiling. One of his hands comes to rest on top of your head while the other hangs loose at his side, posture screaming of confidence and victory.

The height difference makes it somewhat awkward but you shuffle a bit closer and arch your back to better present your tits to him. He still needs to bend at the knee to keep his pelvis level with your chest but it’s clearly much easier for him to thrust now, and he quickly resumes his earlier pace. Although it embarrasses you a great deal to do it, you help him by pulling your breasts up and down the length of his cock, massaging him with your tits. He outright moans in appreciation, his neck lolling back as if he’d never before experienced a more gratifying sensation. 

“That feels so good, sweetheart. You’re always so good for me. I think you deserve a reward after this, for sure.” 

“Ajax - -“

“Something other than my cock, I mean.” He lets out a breathless laugh. “Of course you’ll have it. You don’t even need to ask … I mean a real reward. A new dress, new jewelry, something, gods, I don’t know! I just want to spoil you rotten.” 

Your heart gives a weightless, fluttery jerk in your chest, and you squeeze your tits a little tighter around him in response. “I don’t need any of that. I only want you.” 

Humming softly, he tips his chin down to look at you, the deeply satisfied look on his face only making you even wetter for him. Thank the seven he had a bottomless reserve of energy and stamina alike, because you were starting to suspect one round was not going to suffice. You knew he often had this effect on you but, even so, you weren’t sure when last you’d been this hot and impatient for him. 

“Spit on it, pretty girl. Get those beautiful tits nice and wet for me.” 

A shudder works down your spine as you angle your face downward, waiting until the head of his cock next appears between your breasts to shyly spit on it. You make more of a mess then anything, most of it merely dribbling down your chin, but he just laughs and pauses mid thrust, giving you plenty of time to work up more spit in your mouth and try again. The second time is much more successful, and he slowly pulls back to drag it through the cleft in your skin. You give it one more attempt, spitting after him, and an odd spark of pride lights up within you when you manage to hock it straight down into the space between your breasts. 

Your mother would have had an absolute fit if she knew you were spitting like some uncouth bar wench, and all over yourself at that. 

Sliding his hand down off the top of your head to cup your cheek instead, Childe gently pulls your face back up to look at him, smiling as he wipes the fast cooling spit off your chin with his thumb. “Would you like a diamond ring or a jade necklace?” He murmurs, making you laugh even though you make a valiant attempt not to. 

“Neither. Just you.” 

Humming softly in the way he did that always spelled trouble and boyish naughtiness to come, he inches somehow even closer until the flat plane of his lower stomach is right in your face. You give the skin there a kiss even as he gently cradles you against him, big hands heavy on your head and neck. The space between you two is so scant now that it’s hard to move your tits and he doesn’t have much room to thrust either, but that doesn’t deter him at all. He takes his time slow fucking your breasts, almost like he was making love to them, and given his undeniable preoccupation with them you somehow didn’t find it the least bit surprising. 

His breathing gradually picks up until he’s panting into the still, statically charged air, faint tremors working down his body. You can tell when he starts to get close by the way he turns a little whiny, a little needy against you, but even then he refuses to back up and give himself enough space to properly move his hips. You just keep peppering his belly with kisses and pecks, feeling the muscles flex against your check as he slowly winds himself up into a shuddering, heaving mess. Finally, he gives a stuttering jerk and you feel his cock throbbing, jumping excitedly between your tits, and then the hot sticky flood of cum rushes out to dribble down your chest. 

The two of you just stay like that for a long, intimate moment, allowing him to bask in the lingering afterglow of his climax. Childe recovers as quickly as ever though, and soon eases his softening cock out so he can step back with a rumbled groan. Gingerly, you let up on your breasts only to be hit with the sharp ache in them, your body unaccustomed to being used in such a way. 

You mewl, very softly, at the faint discomfort left behind in his wake — but then he’s sinking down to kneel with you, leaning close, and suddenly it’s like a distant memory when all of your focus is on him again. 

“See? I knew you couldn’t ignore me even if you tried.” He murmurs, catching your mouth so he can kiss you, hard and fast. It’s demanding and possessive, domineering in the way he nips at your bottom lip like a half-starved stray. One hand comes up to latch onto the curve of your neck as you lean into him, sighing into his mouth. The faint buzz of unbridled victory seems to bleed off him into you, singeing your own veins with static electricity. 

Childe was many things, but a humble winner he was not. He did, however, keep his promises, and he makes good on his oath to give you his cock and make you cum on it. Twice, in fact. 

And once on his sly mouth, for good measure.

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #childe x reader

[sneakyparsnipslicer]

Master Of Disguise

[Part 1 of a 2 Part story I've had an idea for. Enjoy folks!]

Conrad Phelps, 37. Convicted felon. Arrested on the charge of Homicide. Serving life imprisonment, or so it should have been intended.

To say Conrad was scum would be an understatement, murderer of 7 men, 5 women and 3 children following a mass shooting he conducted at a supermarket of which he showed no remorse, it was a miracle he hadn't faced the electric chair. Maybe it was down to UK laws not using such means to end a person's life. Maybe it was down to his lawyer managing to convince the judge and jury to sentence him to life imprisonment, either way Conrad knew it was only a matter of time before the relatives of his victims would be out for his blood.

Life in prison was rough, no matter what you did, inmates soon discover the crimes you commit. Naturally many had come to give Conrad what they deemed fair, be it punches or kicks, he soon learned to watch his back around the fraudulents, rapists and other murderers he saw day to day. He tried to keep a low profile, but it was very rare he got left alone, always quizzed by those more self-righteous than him, though in his eyes they were all the same. The scum of society. Despite his charge, he was granted privileges just as any other and he spent time in the Library reading. Again, many of the others found that grounds to jest at his condition, but after a few months they got tired of him and moved onto other targets, leaving him to his reading.

As time went on, Conrad read enough to begin getting ideas. Formulating plans of escape in his mind, and more importantly how to avoid recapture by the Police. Granted security was tight, there were opportunities he came to identify. The yard for instance, with a well-timed distraction as someone unlocks the gate it could be possible to slip out. Maybe knocking out a Policeman on duty and stealing their uniform could work, but it might be tough to get through Security on the way out. One thing was certain, he had no intentions of dying there.

Plans took a turn during a visit one day. Conrad received a call a few days before from his own brother Tim. He was surprised to hear his voice and was sure that, like the rest of his family, he'd turned his back on him. They'd always been close growing up, and became estranged after Conrad's homicide. Conrad sat in his booth patiently as the guests began to fill into the room. Sure enough the seat opposite was filled by Tim. He looked searchingly at Conrad for a short while.

'Hey Conrad, how have you been?' asked Tim.

'I'm alright Tim, bit surprised to see you honestly. How are the family?' replied Conrad.

'They were relocated due to the protection programme, they moved me and my kids elsewhere too. It's been tough readjusting but we're all managing' smiled Tim. Conrad nodded.

'Sorry to hear that. I imagine it's been challenging' said Conrad. Tim sighed.

'Yeah, you really fucked everything up. Because of you I can't be too honest, every person I speak to might secretly know I'm your brother and want revenge for those you killed' said Tim, looking to the ground and shaking his head. Conrad did feel a twinge of regret hearing this.

'Why did you come here today Tim?' asked Conrad. Tim paused and looked him dead in the eyes.

'I want this all to be over, for us all to be able to get the life back we had' Tim whispered, not blinking. Conrad stared back too, unblinking. It was strange, something felt off.

'I've been doing research since you can't exactly get books on occult magic here and I've got a good way to get you out of here' said Tim quietly.

'How?' asked Conrad quietly.

'It's going to involve faking your death, and possession of someone else' Tim explained, Conrad shuddered, but nodded in agreement.

'How do I do it?' Conrad asked, intrigued. Tim, unmoving, smiled as his eyes began to faintly glow purple. It was then that Conrad felt something twist in his mind, an inhuman knowledge that no amount of reading and studying could have prepared him for. Tim's eyes began to dim and he snapped out of his trance, shaking his head.

'You understand what you have to do?' asked Tim. Conrad nodded.

'Yes, I do' replied Conrad. Tim smiled and nodded.

'Wait, how do I find you?' asked Conrad, at which Tim shook his head.

'Oh I don't intend to see you again Conrad, call it selfish but I'm doing this more for the rest of us. This way we get left alone and you get to begin again' Tim said. Conrad took a moment to think about it, but nodded.

'That's fair enough, and I understand. Thanks for coming to see me one last time' Conrad smiled.

'Just don't mess it up for yourself' warned Tim. Shortly after, the bell rang, time was up. Tim left his seat, not looking back at Conrad. He saw his brother leave through the door and turn the corner down the hallway, certain that was the last he'd ever see of his younger brother.

The rest of the day went about as usual, Conrad quietly counting down the hours to lock up. When the time came, he stood by his bed as inspection was carried out. In came PC Withers, a middle-aged policeman pushing 50. He looked at Conrad and sighed.

'Well I want no trouble Phelps, let's make this a quick one' he said, shuffling over to investigate the toilet behind the door.

'Naturally Officer, I wouldn't want to cause any trouble' said Conrad, smiling. Withers looked to him and gave a dry chuckle.

'Trouble? Didn't think of that when you killed those poor kids!' replied PC Withers, moving to examine the chest of drawers, pulling out clothing.

'No I suppose not' said Conrad vacantly, looking to the door. Having found nothing unusual in the drawers, he began to move to Conrad's bed.

'Get that cleared up Phelps' ordered Withers snapping his fingers and pointing to the mess of clothes on the floor. Conrad nodded, making his way over. As soon as he'd passed by the Officer, he turned and delivered a heavy punch to the back of his head, knocking him onto Conrad's bed. Conrad turned to face him, hesitating in case Withers got back up. He made his way over and turned him to face the ceiling, he was out cold. Conrad pulled PC Withers' eyelids open, revealing his vacant-looking eyes and stared intently into them. A few seconds passed and Conrad's eyes began to glow purple, lifting Withers up into a sitting position, Conrad moved to lock lips with him. Conrad's entire body glew purple as his soul passed from his own body to PC Withers'. Eventually Conrad stopped glowing and his body fell limp onto the bed as Withers began to stir.

He opened his eyes and looked at his old body slumped over him. Conrad sat up, feeling his more built figure and correcting his glasses. He'd done it. He moved his old body off him and tucked him into bed, proceeding to stuff the clothes back into the drawer. He took one last look at his old body.

'Right, that'll be all Phelps' he said aloud, tipping his hat to him. He opened the cell door and proceeded to lock it. As much as Conrad wanted to just leave right then and there, he knew he had to finish PC Withers' checks in order not to arouse suspicion. And so he proceeded to investigate a few more cells. Eventually the team of Officers had completed their checks and proceeded to hand over the shift to the night staff. Thankfully, Conrad had access to PC Withers' mind, so he knew his locker code.

'Ey up Baz, how did the shift go?' asked a voice. Conrad looked and saw another of the Officers, PC Dickens move to his locker. Dickens was a lot younger and fresh-faced, easily in his mid 20s. Conrad wished for a moment he'd been able to take over Dickens rather than Withers.

'Evening Grant, yeah the inmates weren't too bad, few fights but then what's new' he asked, chuckling. Dickens was changing his shirt and Conrad was transfixed on the guy's back. Taking over him would be way too much of a risky move. But it gave him an idea of what type of body he'd like to settle for. Conrad hurried up and changed too, putting on Withers' baggy t-shirt and shorts.

'Oh, you've got a holiday coming up haven't you Baz?' Dickens asked. Conrad searched Withers' thoughts.

'Oh yeah, me and the missus are going camping over the weekend, almost forgot!' chuckled Conrad. Thinking about it, it'd be a perfect opportunity to shed himself of old Barry Withers and find a more permanent body for himself.

'Well don't you go having too much fun, say hi to Teresa for me!' said Dickens cheekily, closing his locker and waving as he left the locker room. Conrad looked at his reflection in the locker mirror, that old face looking back at him. He thought about his old body laying motionless in his cell. This was the start of a new life, and a chance to make life easier for his family.

#male tf #transformation #possession

[verybadatwriting]

The Winged One 2

Summary: Despite safely dropping off Bucky at the Allied base, you come back.

Warnings: Burned village, dead bodies, the bodies of dead parents, guns, injuries, curse word 

Notes: Snake Worshipers = HYDRA. Honestly I’m surprised it only took me a little over a month to write this, I’m normally much slower.

Gn!reader

Word count: 4,736

Part 1

The days were a blur for Bucky. Fever from the infection mixed with days in the freezing wild had made him delirious. He vaguely remembered someone pulling him off the frozen ground and onto a cot in the medical tent. 

After a few more disorienting days spent with the doctors crafting a new arm, and healing him from the infection, he was finally able to rejoin the Howling Commandos. 

During dinner one night, Steve pulled him aside.

“Hey Buck,” He said. “How are you?”

“Still a little out of it.” Bucky shrugged.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you even make it back here? It’s nearly eighty miles through rough terrain from the train tracks.”

“I…” He began, “I’m not entirely sure myself.” Bucky half-remembered an impossibly huge pair of wings and maybe a sled, but he was sure he had just hallucinated them. Well, mostly sure. 

Seeing how truly confused Bucky was, Steve decided to drop the topic for now. After all, his friend had just gone through a very traumatizing time. It was normal for him to seem a bit off.

Bucky knows he’s being watched. He can feel someone’s eyes on him, but when he turns to look, all he sees is empty forest. He tries to shake off the feeling and returns to his first night back on watch duty. He can see his breath in the freezing air, and a chill runs down his spine. Readjusting his rifle, Bucky continued along the perimeter of the camp. With the snow falling on it, his metal arm seems to sparkle.

When he’s halfway around the camp – as close to the forest as he’d get – he sees something move in the shadows. 

“Who’s there?” He asks while taking aim. His voice stays quiet, and he hears footsteps. Following them, he walks deeper into the woods. Suddenly, the sound disappears and he’s in a small clearing. Again, he feels someone watching him. 

“Who’s there?” He asks, more forcefully this time. 

“What is your name?” A voice from the trees asked. It sounded small and scared. Like a lost child.

“It’s Bucky.” He said, slightly lowering his rifle. “I won’t hurt you. Do I know you?”

 Wordlessly you slipped from the shadowy trees above him. He turned, and after a moment, recognition seemed to dawn on him.

“Y/n?” He asked.

“The one and only.” 

“I… I thought I made that up.” He said, “I thought I was just delirious and seeing things, but no. You’re real.”

“Of course I am,” You laughed, “Are you okay? I see you’ve got yourself a shiny new arm.”

“Mhm. It took them hours to attach this thing, but it works surprisingly well and they got the whole infection under control within a few days.”

“That’s good to hear,” You smiled, “Anyway, that’s only part of why I’m here. The Snake Worshipers have been preparing for something. Countless HYDRA trains go roaring over my valley every day. It’s gotten so bad I can barely sleep.”

“That can’t be good. If you give me a second I can write this down.” He fidgeted with one of his pockets, and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. Your eyes widened at the paper, and Bucky remembered how much you treasured the single scrap you had made into a map.

“You know,” He started, “If you keep telling me what the ‘Snake Worshipers’ are up to, then I could supply you with plenty of paper." You perked up, considered it for a second, then agreed. 

You were about to leave for the night, since Bucky had written down all the intel you had to give, when you asked him one last thing.

“You haven’t told anyone about me, right? Not even Steve?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “None of them know you exist.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

“Why?” Bucky was taken aback.

“Although I trust you…” You trailed off, trying to find the right words, “There’s just so many people in that camp and I don’t know if they’re all good.”

“I know these guys,” He reassured you, “Nobody's gonna chase you away for having wings. It’s not like your village–”

“Hey!” You cut in, “There are good people in my village. Just a few nutjobs that would follow the Cleric to the end spoiled it all.”

“Okay,” He said, “Sorry, sorry, just please keep your voice down. They’ll hear us.”

“I’m sorry too.” You said, then looked to the sky. “Well, I want to get out of here before midnight, and that’s fast approaching.”

“And my shift ends then.”

“See you in three days?”

“Sounds like a deal.” 

You started on the journey back home, flying so low you occasionally brushed the treetops. At noon you stopped to refill your waterskin in a freezing stream, but aside from that, the whole day was spent flying. It was a wondrous feeling, even though it was quite tiring. In a way, it was a lot like swimming. You were fully in control, every motion affected how you moved. The air rushed by you, icy.

You continued to meet with Bucky every few days. One day, when spring was still weeks away, you were flying home. As the first hints of evening came around, your valley came into view. Diving into it, you soared along the bottom. You saw something strange, slowed down, and grabbed on to a tree. 

There was a large swath of fallen trees, right below the train tracks. You got closer, and saw it was caused by a few railcars. They seemed to have fallen not too long ago, as no snow had settled on them yet.

You launched off the tree, and glided to a tipped over railcar. It was made of a smooth dark metal only interrupted by the large door. With a considerable amount of effort, you managed to unlatch the bolt holding it closed and push it open. You slipped inside. The car was filled with crates. One had smashed open during the fall, and you examined its contents of strangely shaped guns.

You knew this was the type of thing Bucky needed to know about, so you carefully removed a piece of paper from your pocket, and started to sketch out one of the weapons. It had cylindrical barrels, a blue light on top, and a wire connecting the two. After that was finished, you looked at the outside of the crate. On the side there were symbols, but you couldn’t read what they said. Despite that, you copied them down onto your paper.

You looked around some more, and found a dead body. He was dressed in a HYDRA uniform, complete with the octopus-headed arm patch. It looked as though he’d been tossed around and killed by the fall, but that wasn’t the scariest part. If he was on the train, there must be others.

Rushing to put everything back in place, you quickly fled to the trees. From there, you simply watched the train. A few hours later, a team of no more than six trekked towards the fallen train. 

They wore HYDRA uniforms, and carried huge canisters on their backs. 

One went ahead to each train car, dousing it with a shimmering liquid. When he gave the all clear to the group, they opened the valves on their equipment and shot fire at the train. 

Within moments it was up in flames burning ten feet tall. The fire didn’t stay put, embers were already jumping to the nearby trees. With the smoke clouding the sky behind you, you flew home, hoping against hope that the HYDRA men didn’t see you. 

Watching the trees you hunted in for years go up in flames hurt. It was like a part of you was burning.

When you finally touched down at home, you looked back at the looming column of smoke. It was miles away, and still filled half the sky. Was it going to spread this far? You hoped not, but still wanted to be prepared for the worst. 

You packed up your most important things (the papers from Bucky, the map, and some basic survival supplies) and kept them in a bag right by the door. Just in case the fire spread. 

Days later, you arrived back at the clearing where you waited in the trees. Just before midnight, Bucky arrived.

“Hello!” You jumped down from the tree, landing right behind him.

“Jeez kid, do you always have to scare me like that?” He laughed.

“No, but I like to.” You still spoke to each other in the mixed up language made from English, a little German, and your native language. Both of you were much smoother with it now. 

“I found something interesting,” You said, taking out the papers in your bag.

“Right to business, okay.” Bucky nodded.

“What does this say?” You tapped the letters you copied from the crate.

“Arnimhilation 99L Assault Weapon,” He said, “Where did you see this?”

“I found a train that fell from the tracks. There were tons of crates full of these.” You took the drawing you made out of your bag, and showed it to him. After a moment of staring at the paper, Bucky finally said something.

“How… How many of these were there?”

“I only checked one train car, but they were stacked floor to ceiling.” You tallied them up in your head, “There were about 200 crates.”

“With that number of 99L’s…” He trailed off.

“HYDRA… they came back,” You closed your eyes, trying not to remember the flames lapping up the forest that you called home, and took a steadying breath. “And they burned the entire train. There was nothing left of the weapons, just the empty metal shells of the train cars. I checked the day the flames died down.”

“If they can afford to send an entire trainload of them up in flames, then they must have countless…” The implications of that silently hung in the air. 

“This wreck has brought more HYDRA agents into my valley. I don’t… I don’t know if I can go home. I don’t know if I’m going to come home to a burned hole in the ground! I don’t know if they’ll find me in the middle of the night and whisk me away. I- I’m scared.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Bucky pulled you in for a hug.

“It’s gonna be alright.” He said, “I won’t let that happen. You’re like family to me, and I protect my family, they’re the whole reason I’m out here.”

“Thank you.” It had been a long time since anyone hugged you, but this felt safe. He would do what your mother couldn’t, and protect you.

“... then we’ll cut them off when they come through the pass here.” Bucky pointed to a small break in the mountains on the map. His fellow Howling Commandos were crowded around a table, along with Agent Carter, Howard Stark, and a half-dozen assorted personnel.

“Any questions?” Bucky asked. A brief pause, then people started to filter out of the tent and towards the mess hall. As he was about to leave, Steve pulled him aside.

“Hey Buck,” He said, “Can we talk?”

“Of course.”

“Privately.” Steve eyed the few people still in the room. Bucky nodded, slipped out of the tent, and went to a secret spot behind the latrines. The smell kept most others away, but not these two. Steve and Bucky would meet there when they didn’t want to be overheard. Today was definitely one of those days.

A few moments later, Steve quietly joined Bucky.

“Is everything okay?” Bucky asked.

“That’s what I was gonna ask you,” He paused, “Among other things. You’ve been a little off since you got back, and you haven’t told anyone about it. Not even me. Did something happen out there?”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, maybe if he told Steve about you he’d understand and want to meet you. Then he remembered how fearful you had looked when he even suggested the idea of meeting someone new.

“No.” He said decisively, “Nothing happened. I mean, it was hellish, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve been trained well, and I got through it.”

“Okay,” nodded Steve, “You sure nobody helped you? You didn’t find an abandoned cabin, or a crate of supplies?”

“No.” He felt terrible lying to his closest friend, but it had to be done. He’d sworn to protect you, and he intended to keep his promise.

“Bucky,” Steve looked into his eyes, “I know you’re lying. I’ve known for a while. You were dropped off outside our medical tent wrapped in a hammock, too sick to even sit on your own. I was willing to let that slide. But now, in there,” He pointed back toward the tent where the briefing had taken place, “You magically know which pass HYDRA is planning on taking.”

“I-” But Bucky had no excuses. He wasn’t supposed to know that. How could he know that? You had intercepted a messenger bird, (which HYDRA used for medium range communication instead of radios, so as to avoid Allies overhearing them), made a copy, and took it to Bucky.

“Buck.” Steve said, “You’re a terrible liar. If you don’t tell me the truth before we leave for the mission, I’ll have to report you. I can’t risk lives to preserve our friendship.”

“I know.”

He’s different today. Agitated. On edge. There’s something gnawing at him from the inside. You were going to ask, then thought better of it. If he needed to tell you, he would. So instead of delving into it, you exchanged food and information. 

“I’m afraid I haven’t got much to say.” You said, “Their formations all line up with the info we got from the bird. Do the Allies have a plan to utilize the information?”

“Yeah,” nodded Bucky, “We’re intercepting them after they come through the pass. Hopefully they won’t throw us any curveballs.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.” A silence settled over the clearing, which was strange since you and Bucky usually had lively banter. You had just opened your mouth to speak, when you heard something. Someone breathing nearby. It wasn’t you or Bucky, and it wasn’t an animal. 

There was a person hidden somewhere in the leaves, watching the two of you.

You slunk backwards into the forest, and bobbed your head towards the noise to warn Bucky. He turned to look. Almost immediately, the man watching you stepped out from the woods, his hand on the holster on his hip.

“Steve?” Bucky said.

“Bucky,” The other man, presumably Steve, said. They argued for many minutes. You could only make out a few words here and there, but from that and their tone you pieced together that Bucky was trying to convince Steve to put the gun down, while Steve demanded to know who Bucky had been talking to. 

Things got more heated, and Steve took out his gun. Immediately, Bucky’s hands went into the air and he took a step back. 

“Steve, you don’t need to do this.”

“How do I know you’re not selling Allied secrets?” Steve looked deeply betrayed, “Or setting us up for an ambush?”

“I promise I’m not.”

“I can’t just take your wor–” He abruptly stopped talking, and his jaw dropped.

Behind Bucky, you had stepped out of the shadows. Your wings glistened in the moonlight. Bucky dared a glance behind him, and saw you.

“Don’t hurt them.” He turned back to Steve, “Don’t hurt them, they’re just a kid.”

Wordlessly, Steve nodded and lowered his weapon. Then Bucky switched languages and spoke to you.

“Y/n, why didn’t you escape?”

“This man is threatening you. I could not leave you to face him alone.”

“He’s my friend.” Bucky replied. You raised an eyebrow at this.

“Friends do not threaten one another.”

“Yeah, well, these are strange times.”

“Hey!” Steve shouted, “Can we switch to English, please? Bucky, what the Hell is going on?”

Bucky nodded, and explained what had happened after his fall, you saving him, bringing him back to the Allies, and now spying on HYDRA for them.

“They’ve been giving me information on HYDRA movements in the area,” said Bucky, “And I’ve been giving them food and supplies in exchange.”

“Okay.” Steve said. By this time, his gun was holstered, and he was sitting on a stump across from you and Bucky. The log you were sitting on was freshly fallen, and you were running your fingers up and down the bark while the three of you talked. Bucky served as interpreter between you and Steve.

“How long have they been out here for?” Steve asked.

“Five years.” Bucky replied.

“All on their own?”

“They’re one tough cookie.”

Steve agreed to keep your existence secret, but he also made it clear that if you wanted to join them, you were more than welcome. He even said that after the war you could come to America with them. You declined the offer, and explained that in a few years you intended to go back to your home village.

“By then the Cleric should be dead.” You said, “He was old when I left, anyway.”

Steve nodded, “If you ever change your mind, my offer still stands.”

You tagged along from the shadows when the Howling Commandos went on missions, always watching them. When he learned of this, Bucky insisted you learn to shoot and that you carried a gun with you.

“I can’t have you in a battlefield without a weapon!”

“I always stay by the outskirts. So really, I’m not in the battle.”

On one mission, you were in a tree overlooking the battle, and Bucky was directly underneath it. Today he was tasked with being a sniper, so his entire focus was on the battle. Who had a clear shot on Steve? Was someone in that window? 

He didn’t see the HYDRA agent sneaking up behind him, but you did. It felt like slow motion, the man noticed Bucky, drew his gun, and just as he was taking aim, you swooped in. The shot rang out, but the bullet simply glanced off your wings, ricocheting off into some poor tree.

Surprised at your sudden appearance, the HYDRA agent didn’t even see as Bucky appeared from behind you and shot him.

“Are you okay?” Was the first thing Bucky said.

“I think so,” You replied while your fingers traced over your wing, “Could you take a look?”

“There’s barely a mark,” He said, “Does this hurt?” He gently touched the spot the bullet had hit.

“No.” You shook your head.

“That’s incredible!” Bucky mused, more to himself than you. “If Stark could take a look at your wings, perhaps we could design some better armor…”

Ever since that day you’d been a bit bolder in battles, more willing to be in the midst of it, and more thankful that you’d learned to shoot. 

The Commandos were familiar with you, since you followed them around, but none of them really knew you. Bucky introduced you to them one on one and you were able to tie together names and faces, but you didn't interact much. Instead, you focused on improving your English and your physical strength.

While you enjoyed following the Howling Commandos and being closer to Bucky, it meant you didn’t  go home to sleep. Instead you strung up a hammock in the trees past the borders of the camp. 

As you were packing up one morning, Bucky approached.

“There’s a burned patch up ahead,” He began, “And the trees are all dead.”

“Yes. It’s not uncommon for HYDRA to start wildfires for fun.” You said. “What’s the problem?”

“Their roots were the only thing holding the dirt in place. It’s too unstable to drive our trucks over. We can probably walk it without too much of an issue, but it’s huge. Since it’s so dangerous, do you wanna walk by me?”

“I’d be happy to.”

When you first saw the burned area, the contrast between the small buds just starting to appear on the trees behind you, and the crunchy charcoal swath of land in front of you was shocking. The last few living trees were singed on one side, and alive on the other.

As you trekked through the burned landscape with Bucky and his group, it felt oddly reminiscent of going hunting with your father. Even though you’d only known Bucky for a month or two, you couldn’t help but think of him in a fatherly manner.

At nightfall, the Howling Commandos stopped at a burned out village for the night. Since there were no trees standing to hang your hammock from, you reluctantly set it down at the edge of the campfire’s light near the others’. During the night you awoke, and couldn’t go back to sleep, so you stargazed.

Staring up at the stars, you did some mental calculations and came to a gut-wrenching realization. This was your village. You stood, and looked around. To your right was the slope leading to the stream, which meant that your house was just a few moments away.

Filled with fear you half-stumbled-half-flew to your family’s home. All you saw was a pile of rubble. You fell to your knees, but did not let yourself cry. Maybe they had escaped. Yes, your family had been warned and escaped, that must be it!

Digging through the ash, you found bodies. You uncovered two. Both wrapped around each other protectively. They were badly burnt and a little old, but you could tell who they were.

Your parents.

That’s where Bucky found you early the next morning. Kneeling in the ash of your family home, weeping over your parents. Wordlessly, he sat next to you. You leaned over and hugged him, wiping your tears on his shoulder.

“Do you want to bury them?” He asked. 

You nodded. Bucky grabbed a shovel and started breaking through the icy ground near the house. He called over Steve to help him. When the two of them were done, you went to have one final look at your parents. 

Your eyes drifted to a dark chain around your father’s neck. It was the necklace you had gifted him years ago. 

“It’s been years since you’ve seen me.” You said, stifling a laugh, “Why do you still have this?” 

You gently unhooked it from around his neck, and slipped it into your pocket. Steve and Bucky lifted your parents into their grave, and started filling it back in. 

A few days later, when the mission was finally over, the Commandos returned to camp with you trailing along behind. As they all entered the base, you slipped away to the tallest tree you could find. Your legs ached from the long days of travel, so you flew to the highest branches. You found a nice one, where you could lean sideways on the tree trunk and overlook the camp on one side, and the forest on the other.

The sun started to set over the trees, and in its final rays you were able to pick out the metallic glint of Bucky’s arm approaching the camp’s exit. You watched as it came closer and closer to your tree, and eventually Bucky started climbing it. He pulled himself up not quite as high as you and unslung a pack from his shoulder. Opening it, he pulled out a tin. He removed the top off and offered it to you.

You reached down and took it. It was ham and lima beans. Raising an eyebrow, you looked at Bucky.

“Sorry,” He said, “It’s all they had today.”

You nodded and began eating.

“How’re you holding up?”

You shrugged in response.

“Don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Mmhm.”

“Alright.” Bucky nodded. “The view sure is great up here. You can see the trees are just starting to turn green, and the sky is beautiful.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, your voice wavering only a little. “This is the first real day of spring. On the walk back today, I saw a leaf.” 

You smiled, remembering the days of your childhood. 

“When someone found that first leaf, they’d go sprinting back to the village, tell all their friends, all their neighbors, and everyone would go out to see the leaf. The Cleric would declare a feast day, which was always stressful since we sometimes got less than an afternoon of notice, but it was always so much fun.

“It was traditional to give gifts to your father on this day. Little leaf themed things, rags, treats,” Your hand trailed to your pocket, “Jewelry.” Carefully, you took out the necklace that had graced your father’s neck. It was made of thin chain with a small teardrop-shaped bit of metal hanging off of it. It was stamped with the image of a leaf, impossibly tiny and intricate. You sat there for a moment longer, debating with yourself.

“Bucky,” You began, “There is another, much older, tradition that when a child’s parents die, their neighbors and friends all pitch in to raise them. I didn’t get that. My entire village–my whole people–has been wiped out.

“Will you take this necklace,” You held it up. “And be my father?”

He considered it for a moment, then smiled.

“Of course,” He said, but was cut off when you crashed into him, nearly suffocating him with a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you.”

Later that night, Bucky brought you into camp, and went about getting you your own tent. You had tried to push back on this a little bit, but having your own personal space with protection from the elements did sound nice, so you went along with it. 

When it was finally set up, you and Bucky sat inside your tent drinking some tea. It was furnished with a small cot, a table, two chairs, and a chest. You’d already stashed your few belongings inside it, and found some uniforms. You held one up. The shirt’s sleeves were way too long, and the pants were barely calf-length.

“They just grabbed whatever they had extra of,” laughed Bucky, “You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to.”

“I might wear the pants,” You said, “In a different size, of course, but the shirts aren’t made right. See?” You pointed to the back, “There’s no space for my wings!”

The two of you laughed for a while, but when silence eventually fell, the tears silently welled up inside your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Bucky said when the first tear slipped down your cheek. Trying his best to calm you down, he crouched down next to your chair and said, “It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s okay to miss them.”

“It’s just so stupid!” You said, wiping at your tears, “I hadn’t even seen them in years, why is it making me so sad?”

“I don’t know.”

“And this necklace, too. Why does it hurt so much that he kept it?”

“It means they never forgot you.” Said Bucky. “Not when the Cleric chased you away, not during the harsh winter days, when they didn’t even know if you were alive.

“It hurts because they loved you. It hurts because you love them.”

That calmed you somewhat, and after a hug and some more tea you were able to get to sleep. In the morning, you wandered out to the mess hall, trying not to panic at all the people everywhere.

The man dishing out the morning’s stew–bean augmented with freshly caught rabbit–gave you a little bit of trouble for not being on the list. This almost escalated, since the men in line behind you were being held up, but Bucky stepped in and smoothed things over. 

“Being a Howling Commando has its perks.” He said as you followed him to a table. The rest of the Commandos were there, all eating breakfast.

“Everyone?” Bucky cleared his throat, “You’ve all met Y/n before, right?” Heads nodded, and Bucky continued.

“They’ve decided to join the Howling Commandos. Please welcome our newest member.” He nudged Steve, “Steve. The pin?”

Reaching into his pocket, Steve pulled out a small pin and passed it to Bucky. It was of a small yellow wing.

“Just in case you had any doubts about belonging here,” Bucky said, “Our symbol is the wing of the SSR Eagle. You’ll fit right in.”

Tags!

@makayla-666 @like-a-domino

#bucky x teen!reader #bucky x teen! reader #marvel #writing #stevexteen!reader #steve x teen!reader #bucky x reader #howling commandos #howling commandos x reader #tw: paternal death #tw: death #tw: dead body #tw: fire

[0alanasworld0]

Misdirection & Birthday Gifts (Yassine Bounou x reader)

Description: You go all out to make Yassine's birthday one he would never forget.

Warnings: none

“Nooooooooooooo” he mumbles into your chest as you once again fail to escape the arms around your middle.

“Yassine you need your birthday suhoor!”

“What I need is for my wife to accept my birthday wish and stay right where she is!” he groans, only tightening his grip. Birthday or not, Yassine was not one to have his peaceful slumber to be disturbed. And by his wife no less? Absolutely not.

“But we have things to do!”

“It’s MY birthday and you’re telling me we have to go against my wishes and do stuff? What if I just want to lay in bed with the love of my life all day?” he questions, still refusing to leave his spot. He’s exactly where he needs to be and so are you. He genuinely cannot see what else he needs on his special day. Well, maybe a few things maybe but that was for much later.

“Okay what if we make it together?” you try, he was going to have to get out at some point but maybe he just needed some good old-fashioned compromise to help him out. He does once again tighten his grip around your waist but thankfully he concedes.

“Fine but we have to stay in for a little bit longer.”

“But-”

“No buts, it’s 3 in the morning. You think I wouldn’t catch on to an early escape plan?” he finally leaves his spot to look up at you with a raised eyebrow. You widen your own eyes as you realise that your super secret plan really wasn’t all that secret. There really was no hiding from him.

You decide that any further bargaining is fruitless, relaxing back into the bed and he readjusts himself so his head is under your chin again. You run your fingers through his fluffy, messy hair and lightly scratch his scalp, making him hum in relief and satisfaction. Admittedly, the quiet moments with him were nice. Both of your lives were so hectic with both of your careers blossoming into huge successes. The past few months had been less than desirable for Yassine as his club seemed to only be sinking further and further into its fateful position on the La Liga table. He was more stressed out than he had ever been so days like this were very much needed. And moments like this moreso. What was even more frustrating was that moments like this were growing more and more infrequent so you best bet he was going to make the absolute most of them when he got them. 

You press a kiss to the side of his head and he reciprocates with a kiss to your shoulder that sends a flood of warmth running through your body. You’re starting to think that the effect he has on you is never going to wear off. With everything he had done for you, the least you felt like you could do was give him the most special birthday you could manage. You decide that 2 hours of cuddling was enough for the moment and whisper in his ear.

“We really do need to get going, love.” anticipating the barrage of complaints you were bound to receive. You can feel him open his mouth to say something until you hear it. You’re surprised it didn’t happen sooner with how much this man needs to eat on a regular.

“... maybe we should get going.” he mutters, lightly pinching your thigh when you giggle.

“You’ve lost it if you think I’m letting go of you though…” he adds quickly before hauling himself out and carrying you with him to the shower. 

“It’s a sunnah!” he reminds you as you scold him for his eagerness. 

He’s still very groggy but your laughter is music to his ears as he prepares himself to celebrate one last time before you both get ready for the day ahead.

Preparing suhoor with Yassine went just as expected with his clingy nature. He allows himself to sit down and check through his phone for a short while before taking a glance at you. That was probably his first mistake because now the urge to just hold you has resurfaced in his mind and he can’t do anything to push it back down. He huffs quietly at first to try and get your attention but it's to no avail because you’re adorably focused on the task at hand: of course preparing one of his favourite meals to keep him going for the rest of the day. There wasn’t any hope of breaking you out with the distance the table was from the counter so he decides to promptly close it. His warmth radiated from him like a furnace so you immediately felt his presence behind you before he encased you in his arms. Leaving soft kisses to your neck and shoulders. The softness sends a chill down your spine and you shudder lightly at the feeling. He really couldn’t go 10 minutes in your presence without having you in his arms directly. 

“Really, Yassine?” you tease, looking back at him with narrowed eyes. You soften immediately at his own irresistible puppy eyes and small pout.

“Nothing wrong with appreciating such perfection.” he mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of your neck to hide the light blush. It's no use however because you can feel his face rapidly heating up anyway. 

In spite of the fact that you’re having to awkwardly waddle everywhere, with him vehemently refusing to let you go from his arms, you somehow manage to get Suhoor on the table with time to spare so you can both enjoy it in peace. You attempt to grab your usual glass but he lightly slaps your hand away before you can. Barely having to stretch as he reaches for the top shelf to grab a large bottle. 

“Nice try, gorgeous.” he quickly kisses the top of your head before taking his seat and digging in.

Suhoor is fairly peaceful as you quietly admire your husband. He’s saying something but for the life of you, you can’t focus as your eyes zero in on his face.  Everything about him was so unbelievably perfect from the softness in his eyes to the baritone drawl of his voice to the overall demeanour. You took great pride in the fact that he was one of the most intelligent and interesting people to talk to yet he was always so grounded. Never once did he make you or anyone feel inferior. Even with the various accolades and titles he was titled, even being the pride of his country, he was still the kind, funny, positive and overall lovable Yassine you had always known. He snaps you out of your lovestruck haze when he gently takes your hand in his. Oh god the last thing you needed was a reminder of his size. Or his warmth for that matter. Your much smaller hand was still recovering from the biting chill of the morning air and you felt it all thaw away with just one touch. 

“Everything okay, princess?” he asks, concern flooding his eyes at your silence. You nod shyly with a smile, bringing his hand to your mouth and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. You were going to make this the best damn birthday he had ever seen. 

Admittedly, the fact that he had to leave for training in the middle of his birthday cuddles made you more frustrated than ever. Of course something had to get in the way. HOWEVER, today the short distraction was very much needed so you could help and oversee the main part of his birthday. When you see Youssef drive off sufficiently far enough, you send a quick text to your friend to give the green light for her arrival. You needed all the time you could get to make sure it was perfect. As well as her help.

“You do realise that he would probably be happy with a simple cake from the store, right?” you raise your eyebrow at your friend’s comment. It was true that your husband was not particularly fussy but the idea of giving him anything less than your best felt almost treacherous. The idea of your perfect Yassine eating store bought cake on his birthday after what he managed to pull off for yours was treacherous. Absolutely not. Never in a million years would you give him anything less than the best. Sure, you were growing weary and the smell of the cake batter, as well as the ingredients for the rest of the meal, was making you hungry beyond belief but this just had to be done. He always made it clear that he preferred your cooking over anything, “heaven on earth”, he always said. And while you were never one to take compliments, you decided to believe him for the moment so you could make his special day worthwhile. 

It’s hours of joint work between you and your friend who oh-so-kindly volunteered to be your taster until you finally have everything done. And as you take a step back to admire all the pieces of the meal, a message on your phone arrives at the perfect time. From Abde and Jawad, a photo of a completely decorated venue with his gifts all in place. You sigh out with a smile as your stress dissipates a little at the fact that it was all coming together. Your friend soon makes her way out of your place to drop the meal off for the final touch for Yassine’s birthday iftar. 

It’s all done and out by the time Yassine makes it home. He crashes onto the couch face-first and you bite your lip to hold in your laughter.

“Everything okay, love?” you ask, rubbing his back softly. He grunts in response and you bend down to be level with him.

“I just had to spend my birthday training like nothing was going on. I don’t think I’m gonna be able to move from here, gorgeous. You’re going to have to feed me.” he mumbles, barely coherent and he’s doing those puppy eyes again. You hum softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead before breaking your news to him.

“Jawad called… wants us over for iftar…” you fake a wince, trying to put on your best guilty face and he furrows his eyebrows. Success, you think to yourself.

“But what about… y’know? I thought we could just have a quiet night in, you and me?” he asks. Oh god he was so cute. He couldn’t bear to use the birthday excuse seriously. 

“I know but he said he’d really appreciate it if we went over. He got a whole venue and everything, it’d be rude to decline, no?” he nods defeatedly, dragging himself off the couch to get ready with you following him. 

He’s beyond shattered but still finds it to him to make his usual comments as you get changed. It was basically an instinct at this point to make you as flustered as he could. He absolutely loved it. Your cheeks flushing because the man just needed to make you feel like an angel. 

The car ride is fairly quiet and although he would never say anything, you could tell that he was slightly upset with the turnout of the day. What could have been a quiet day with you now just felt like any other day. In truth that was all he needed for his special day. So much for a happy birthday. However, there’s confusion in his eyes as he notices the surroundings. 

“Sweetheart you…” he’s lost for words, slightly concerned that his assumptions are going to be wrong.  He doesn’t miss the smirk on your face as you quickly turn away and drag him to the place. It was a place that he absolutely loved. Where his dream began. He remembers the day clearer than anything and he can’t begin to describe how happy he is to be here again. Relive it again but with his wife rather than the pretty girl he didn’t know how to approach without finding himself shaking with nerves. Of course you wouldn’t push his birthday aside for anything. Of course you would make sure that you spent it together in the place he constantly talked about loving. He always told you it was his special place so the idea of spending his birthday here came easily to you. And he just couldn’t wait.

When you reach the main spot, fully decorated the way you thought he would like, you sigh out in relief and finally look back at him. He’s speechless, for once the words are not coming naturally to him but you can feel and see the excitement. Excitement for the fact that he was in fact going to spend his birthday the way he wanted: with you and alone.

“Ya amar, you are something else…” he mutters quietly as he takes a quick look around before returning his gaze to you, filled with a softness that reaches your heart and warms you up inside. One second you’re staring into his eyes and the next he’s spinning you around in his arms as if he wasn’t ready to fall asleep in the car on multiple occasions. You squeal as you tighten your grip on the hug. 

“You. Are. So. perfect. I. love. You. so. Much. my. Star.” he interrupts each word with a kiss to your face and you can’t hold back your laugh as he does so. 

“We haven’t even gotten to the best bit yet!” you manage to say through the laughing fit. Before he says anything back, or sends you both into another fit of giggles, you grab his hand and gently drag him to the gazebo where the food is laid out. Only the best and by your own hands of course. He quickly rushes to hold your chair out for you to sit before taking his own. Of course he isn’t completely satisfied being opposite you and shuffles his chair over so he’s by your side instead. 

“You are the picture of a dream, angel.” he says, hugging your side before grabbing a couple of dates and handing one to you. You’re lucky that it’s a couple of minutes until iftar so you remain with your head resting on his shoulder, his head resting on yours until you hear the adhan playing on your phone. 

You both sigh out in relief as you break your fasts. A long day of training for him and preparations for you and it felt so worth it for this moment. He can’t help but go for one last kiss, albeit a much longer one, before digging into the meal you worked so hard to prepare. He felt like the luckiest guy in the world to have someone like you so eager and willing to make him feel loved. 

“Happy birthday, my love.” you softly smile at him, sweetly kissing his cheek when he finishes gulping down his water. 

When you’ve both had your fill and finished praying together, you drag him once more to the grass where a soft blanket is already laid out. He’s the first to lay on it before holding his arms out, waiting for you to join him. You quickly follow suit, being careful not to hurt him as you lay down on his chest. While you trace the lines of his torso, peacefully admiring the hard planes and corded muscles, he hitches one of your legs to drape over his own, trying to create as much contact as he could. The sunset is absolutely stunning but the both of you can really only focus on eachother. 

When the pair of you settle into a comfortable position, he’s the first to say something.

“I’m sorry for being so moody.” he whispers, the guilt in his eyes apparent. 

“Yassine, if that was your definition of moody, I would love to see you angry!” you joke, pinching his cheek with a smile. Your expression turns into one of slight concern as the guilt remains on his features.

“I was grumbling the entire car ride! I should have trusted you!” he justifies and you shake your head.

“Love, you were understandably upset that you weren’t going to get the rest you needed! It’s okay!” you try to comfort him. You pull his head down for a kiss and you feel him relax into it, deepening it. You’re relieved to see him doing a little better when you pull away. You quietly admire his face once more until you remember, eyes widening.

“I almost forgot! I’ll be back in a second!” you try to get up a little too quickly and to no avail as he pulls you back down.

“What could you possibly have left to do?” He narrows his eyes with a small smile. 

“Just trust me on this! Please?” you beg, hurriedly getting up the second he releases his grip. You had thought about these gifts for ages so you hoped he would like them.

You return soon after with the 2 neatly wrapped presents in your hands, placing them on the blanket as he sits up. You hand him the first and he laughs a little.

“Are you trying to get me into reading again?” he jokes as you narrow your eyes.

“Open the thing!” you slap his arm lightly and he relents. He carefully unpeels the wrapping paper and for a second, he thinks he recognises what it is but no? You wouldn’t. But except you absolutely would. It was a sketchbook that you had been working on since the start of your marriage, which took you embarrassingly long as you carefully considered each page. You kept Yassine in your heart each minute you worked on it so it just felt right to give it to him. And it wasn’t just drawings of him either. You had gone all out with just everything he liked, everything that reminded you of him, it was simply just an expression of your love for him. You didn’t have a way with words like he did you decided to show in the way that came most naturally to you. Drawings of you and him accompanied with sketches of your date locations, illustrations of songs you knew he loved, fabric cuttings from the wedding, your own writing to accompany the art. He certainly wasn’t going to be able to go through it in detail at that very moment but he already held it so dear to him. He was definitely taking it everywhere with him. 

You’re too in your head trying to analyse his reaction so you’re startled when he throws himself at you for a crushing hug. 

“Oh angel, this is too much! Do you really want to give this to me?” he asks, smiling when you nod vigorously. 

“You were the only person I was thinking about when I was working on it so I don’t see why it should go to anyone else.” you confess, sighing out when he tightens the hugs, kissing your neck in appreciation. 

“There’s still this one…” you manage to get on, nearly suffocated by the tightness of the embrace.

“Oh sorry, princess.” he releases you and and you take in a deep breath, smiling and shaking your head at his enthusiasm and excitement. 

Once again, he’s ever the more careful in undoing the wrapping paper and slowly lifting the lid of the box. This one he recognises immediately, the design on the pocket watch was a very unique one. One that happened to match a certain antique locket he got you for your own birthday. Just in the way that he chose his favourite photo of the pair of you, you picked yours as it sat pretty in the beautifully delicate piece. And of course it also had to have the date of your first encounter engraved. Just like the locket. 

“I know it’s not the most original gift but I thought that y’know… with the location and all… I don’t know I thought we could match and it’d be really cute I-” he’s too excited to wait so he cuts off the rambling with the most passionate kiss he can muster. You relax into his hold, grateful that he stopped you before it went on any longer, bringing a hand to cup his cheek. You’re both panting, regaining your breath when you pull away. Your lips are slightly swollen from it and you’re honestly slightly dazed but you manage to take in his next words at least.

“It’s perfect, angel. You’re perfect. This was the best birthday ever!” he assures, kissing you again so that you forgot about whatever doubts still lingered. Once again, it’s long and his hand buries itself in your hair to pull you closer and deepen it. How you had any uncertainty was beyond him but he’d take as long as he needed to remove it because on top of everything that you already did that had him swooning, you had to go and give him some of the most thoughtful and heartfelt gifts he had ever received. 

When you pull away once again for breath, you can just feel that he’s up to something.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” you question suspiciously as he looks off into the distance.

“Nothing.” he says, almost too quickly and you pinch his cheek. He almost certainly wasn’t planning how he was going to on-up you for your birthday. No, he would never. 

“Sureeeeeee…” you draw out, rolling your eyes. Oh this was going to be good. You already knew what was about to happen. Best of luck to him.

an hour or 2 later than when i siad but its not midnight over here yet so it counts! i hope u enjoy, lovelies xxx

#yassine bounou #yassine bono #yassine bounou x reader #yassine bounou fanfic #yassine bono x reader #yassine bounou imagine #football one shot #footballer fic #football fanfic #football fluff #footballer imagine #bono x reader #bono #football fanfics #footballer x reader #footballer x you

[nikkisheep]

What else? Part 2

Eddie Munson x female reader x Steve Harrington

Warnings: Steve watches and gives orders, oral (m&f), DIRTY SMUT, dirty talk, nipple play, sir kink (steve), spitting, praise kink, cursing, crying kink, mommy kink (eddie), calling the reader dollface (steve)

What else?

Summary: Days pass since Eddie confessed that Steve taught him everything that night so when Eddie runs into him, he decides to pay him back for his service in helping him.

Tag list: @ay0nha, @slightlyvicked, @whore4romance, @ttsbaby01

Eddie learns quickly. He brought the most pleasure to you that you can imagine. You could hardly walk for three days, in between your legs was fucked raw. Eddie loved worshipping your body, sketching out every plain and valley of you. He wanted to commit your figure into his mind so when he closes his eyes, all he sees is you.

After a few days of spending time in bed, the food supply was running low. Eddie said he had to go to the store while you rested and you just let him go.

Eddie was in the fruit isle when he sees a familiar brown haired boy. Steve was buying grapes. He looked so innocent for someone who gave sex advice that changed Eddie's life. He walks up to him.

"Hey, man." He slaps Steve on his back.

"How did it go with Y/n and my advice?" Steve smiled. He hoped that he was of use.

"She actually wants you to come over tonight and give more advice. If it goes good, I might let you touch her. Maybe, not a promise but she says you can watch." Eddie explained. Steve's eyes grew and his heart sped up in beating.

"U-um she wants me to come over and wa-watch?" He readjusted his shirt. Suddenly, it was too warm in the fruit area of the store.

"Yeah but you don't hav-"

"No, I'll come.''

Eddie smirked at Steve's eagerness, knowing that Steve has had non-pure thoughts about you, wishing that he was the one touching you. The most he can allow Steve to do right now is watch, he was lucky Eddie was even allowing that.

-----

Eddie walks in the door with Steve. You were in the bedroom, pulling on your panties when he came in. You were wearing Eddie's shirt and you decided to greet your boyfriend.

"Hey, Eds-" You stop as soon as you see Steve.

"Hey dollface," Steve waves.

"Stevie," You nod.

His eyes look up and down your body, stopping at your thighs that were rubbing together at the sight of Steve in a tight shirt. See, Eddie didn't know but you and Steve used to have the strongest sexual tension but you never did anything. It was a game the two of you played. Then you got with Eddie and you tried to stop the feeling of tension fill the room when you two are near.

"So, Steve has agreed to what you want," Eddie tells you. You smile.

"Well, follow me boys."

----

Eddie starts kissing you while Steve sits on the chair that you have beside the desk. You hold eye contact with him as you tilt your head to the right so Eddie could suck on your neck, making Steve jealous of the fact that it wasn't him. He looked like he wanted to take you right there but couldn't, you were his forbidden fruit.

Eddie places a hand on your breast, squeezing and you moan. Oh god your moan was music to Steve's ears. He couldn't believe that the one time that he sees you like this, you are in the arms of another man, a man that was not him.

"Stevie," You moan out. His eyes snap to yours.

"Tell him how good I am making you feel," Eddie orders. He goes to take "your" shirt off, throwing it to the side of the room. Wanting to touch every part of your body, wanting Steve to know that it was a privilage for him to be seated in his bedroom seeing you like this. Hearing you like this.

"Feel so good, Stevie. He feels so good," You sigh when Eddie starts to suck hickeys down your neck, turning you so that he can have access to your breasts. He fondles them for a minute and then places one in his warm waiting mouth. Steve groans.

Steve squirms in his chair, wanting to take his cock out to releave the pressure.

"Steve," You groan.

"Tell him how to touch me, please, need you to tell him how to touch me." You beg.

Eddie switches breasts and you throw your head back.

"Eddie, kiss down her chest and stomach."

Eddie starts to move his sinful lips down your chest.

"Tease her at the waist, make her want you to rip off her panties." Steve groans when Eddie does as he says.

Eddie kisses each side of your hips, pressing kisses on the waistline of your underwear. You start to become needy and the throbbing was getting to you now. You whined everytime his hand goes to move your panties down, before pulling them back into place.

"Take her panties off," Steve says, Eddie does just that.

"Lick her cunt."

Eddie breathes your smell in, sweet with a hint of tange. Your breath gets caught in your throat when the feeling of his hot tongue presses against your hole, pressing in and then licking a strip up to your clit. You let out a shuddered breath.

Eddie looks up at you and Steve's eyes never leave your face. Pleasure was written over your face, moans trembled from your lips, breathing becoming rapid. Your back arches a little and you grab Eddie's hair.

"Doing so well for Eddie and me," Steve says.

"So good, Steve."

Looking into his brown eyes, you shake under Eddie's tongue.

"Pull away, Eddie." Steve ordered.

You groan as he does just as he was told. You gasp when you see Steve move to Eddie's spot. They have a full conversation in front of you without saying a word. It was done so between their eyes. Eddie moved away from the bed and Steve sat in between your open thighs.

"So pretty, dollface."

"Steve-"

"You call me sir," He grabs your chin before squeezing your cheeks so that your jaw would open. He leaned in and instead of kissing you, his spit landed on your tongue. You moaned as you swallowed it, happily.

His hands found your breasts and quickly began to massage them, tweeking your nipples which you arched your back to press them closer to his warm hands. He looked at Eddie, directing him to come over to the bed.

"Y/n, I think Eddie deserves to know how good that mouth is, hm?" Steve nods to the Munson boy.

You were now on your knees, taking Eddie's dick so far in your throat you wondered how you weren't sufficating. He was moaning above you, making you want to please him even more so.

"Fuck, mommy, easy." He cried when you swirled your tongue around his tip.

"Keep going," Steve demands.

"Such a good girl, you got here Eds."

You moaned around his cock.

"Fuck!" Eddie hissed through clenched teeth.

You pull of right before Eddie cum. Steve ordered Eddie in between your thighs before he guided Eddie's length into your heated core. Eddie moaned at the tight sqeeze of your pussy. Steve moves to the chair by the door and removes his cock from his boxers. You moan when you see it.

"Can he move, sir?" You beg.

''Eddie move," Steve orders.

He moves his hips in fast, sharp thrusts. Hitting your sweet spot every movement of his body. You grip his sweat slick back as you throw your leg over his hip, throwing your head back at the feeling of him hitting so deep. His hair fell onto your shoulder and you gripped onto it for stablity.

Steve matched the motion of his hand to Eddie's thrusts. He was making the sexiest noises but all you could hear was Eddie's pants and whispers of dirty promises. Your bodies moved in rythem together, all working to that finish line that is just in reach.

"Rub her clit," Steve moans out as he bucks into his hand.

Words of praise fall out of Steve and Eddie's mouths, making you see white. You babbled out words but you could barely think. You could only feel straight burning pleasure in your veins.

"Cum for me, Stevie." You moan as Eddie mouths at your neck. He moved to his knees with you in his lap as he thrusted into your body.

Steve spills in his hand before you tip over the edge. Eddie follows suit not long after. He releases onto your walls that clenched around him. A couple of thrusts later, he pulls out. The bed is a mess but you three sit there in the room, silence fills the air with the sound of pants.

"Well that was fun," Steve said.

"So, did you like the thank you?" You asked him.

"If this is how you thank someone, Eddie, you are a lucky man."

"That I am, Steve. But seriously, thank you. You helped a lot but this is the last time you will ever see her like this." He laughed.

"Trust me, I understand. I'm just glad I was of help and Y/n, nice ass."

"Alright, get out." You laughed as you threw a pillow at him.

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things imagine