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#i'm aiming for partner this year!
nerdynanny · 3 months
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kay-kay-is-kray-kray · 7 months
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This is looking to be my final gem + key count for masquerade. I've been plotting for this event since the moment it was revealed in Japan and officially saving since February. It was an extremely difficult and long road but here I am at 420 summons.
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pangur-and-grim · 2 months
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Do you have any advice on finding ethical cat breeders? I've only ever adopted, but I'm hoping to get hairless (or slightly haired) breed in the future due to my partner's allergies.
oh sure, here's what sold me on the breeder I'm currently wait-listed for:
she lists the 40+ health tests her animals have gone through, and has the results uploaded onto her website
each cat has their coefficient of inbreeding visible
it's not a kitten factory. there are set times of year when breeding occurs (in this case, spring and fall)
breeding animals have short careers and then are retired, to avoid strain on their bodies, and allow them to live as pets
she attends cat shows to ensure her animals are meeting breed standards
there are rarely any kittens 'for sale', as most sales are done through a waitlist. this means that even before being born, most of the kittens she produces already have waiting homes.
she requires buyers to sign a contract saying that this will be an indoor cat, and that there will be no declawing
also in the contract: if for whatever reason you can no longer care for your cat, she will take it back and find a home for it.
doesn't breed for any unethical traits (extreme brachycephaly, manx tails, folded ears, lykoi fur mutation, munchkin legs, etc.)
doesn't make outlandish claims - anyone who breeds lower allergen cats should be forthright about the fact that no cat will truly be hypoallergenic, only less allergenic
requires the cat to have a feline companion if it is of a more social breed (oriental, siamese, devon rex, etc)
has a 2 year congenital health guarantee
there's probably more, but that's off the top of my head!
EDIT: as for your particular situation, aim for breeds that produce less of the protein in their saliva that triggers allergies. Devon Rexes (the breed I'm getting) are a double whammy in this regard, as they produce less of the protein, and shed less fur into their environment.
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ghelgheli · 4 months
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hey—I'm fundraising on behalf of a friend ("N") who's in a sticky situation and prefers to stay anonymous
What’s the situation?
N is a young disabled trans woman living in the north of England, whose relationship with her long term partner has broken down, leaving her in an unsafe living situation which needs to change as soon as possible. N, who has lived with her partner for a number of years, recently decided to end the relationship in part due to her attempts to adjust to her disability as it continues to encroach on more of her life, but also due to the long term effects of transmisogyny and sexual violence which have occurred and continued to preside within the relationship, becoming increasingly impossible to live alongside.
N currently works part time and due to her disability is working as many hours already as she is capable of. This provides a fixed limited income which isn't currently enough to support herself on her own. Whilst N is in middle of a number of processes of applying for benefits (PIP and Universal Credit), these take time and labour to pursue, could take weeks to finalise, and would still be unlikely to provide the kind of resources for N to set herself up in a sustainable and safe living situation without the support of a number of upfront costs outside even these means. Until this situation changes, N remains economically dependent on her ex-partner, with no alternative means of support, living in an increasingly unsafe, stressful and emotionally difficult environment for everyone in which N is finding it difficult to survive.
What does she need?
N desperately needs the financial support of this fundraiser to get safely housed and settled into a new flat on her own in the private rental sector. Because of her problems with income, we are aiming to raise enough money to pay for a portion of the tenancy in advance, which would allow N to circumvent proof of income checks (which often facilitate ableist discrimination from landlords) and to give her a few months to sort out her benefits applications so she can provide for herself long-term.
We all know It’s a difficult time of year to find spare cash, but N is a valued and loved member of her community and we really need your help. Any support is really appreciated.
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sinkovia · 3 months
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Riley
Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader
Angst
As you stood in the presence of Ghost, your boyfriend who had been missing for a year and two months, a heavy sense of disbelief washed over you.
"Ghost?" you gasped, your eyes widening as you stared at the man standing before you in the rain. His once warm and gentle gaze now appeared distant and cold, his grip on the combat knife, a gift you had given him two years ago, seemed unnaturally tight.
"Simon, it's me!" you yelled, trying to get through to him, but the look in his eyes was chilling. It was as if he didn't recognize you at all. The man you had loved, who had become your partner in life, now looked at you like you were a complete stranger. In his silence, he lunged at you with the knife, and you realized with a sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong. It was as though he had been brainwashed, transformed into a weapon, a threat that couldn't be reasoned with.
Trying to reach him, you spoke softly but with determination, "Simon, it's me. Do you remember? It's Y/n. You know me!"
But he remained unresponsive, his eyes locked onto you with a deadly intensity. He lunged at you with the knife, aiming to strike, and you managed to parry the attack, your years of training and reflexes kicking in.
You continued, your voice pleading as you tried to break through to him, "Remember, all those missions we went on together, the late-nights in the rec room, all of soaps shitty jokes?!"
Each swing of his knife was met with your skillful deflection, but it was clear that he had been brainwashed. He wouldn't stop until he struck you down.
"Simon, please!", your heart aching as you dodged and blocked his attacks. "Think about everything we've been through, all the memories we've created. I'm not your enemy. Please remember who I am!"
But there was no sign of recognition in his eyes, only a relentless determination to eliminate the perceived threat. You were in a battle against the very person you had missed so dearly, and all you could do was hope that some part of the real Simon remained within. The battle continued and you desperately parried Ghost's relentless attacks. You kept yelling at him, trying to get through to him. You had managed to hold your own against him, deflecting every strike he sent your way. Your balance faltered when you stepped in a puddle of mud, and Ghost seized the opportunity to strike. His combat knife found its mark.
The blade cut into your arm, a searing pain shooting through your body. You hissed as you tried to regain your footing, but it was too late. Ghost's knife plunged deep into your stomach. The irony of the situation didn't escape you; you had given him that very knife as a gift, and now it was embedded in your abdomen. He ripped the knife out of your stomach and raised it again, his next target, your chest. Your teary eyes went to his and in one final attempt to get through to him the word spilled from your bloody lips as his knife was stabbed deep in your chest.
"Riley"
Only you had called him this, whenever you were lecturing him, nagging him about something, you had always called him by his last name. It seemed to break through the fog that had clouded his mind. His eyes, once cold and distant, softened as he gazed at your face, and a flicker of recognition danced in his eyes. You smile knowing you finally got through to him.
As he took in your injured state, his gaze dropped to the knife he held, buried deep in your chest. Horror washed over his face as he realized what he just did. Your knees buck and you fall to the ground, bringing him with you. With tears in his eyes, he pulled you close, cradling you in his arms, the blood from your chest staining his clothes and mingling with the rain-soaked ground.
You were dead before you hit the ground.
"Love?" He pulled you closer to him, holding your lifeless body against his chest, his tears falling freely as he begged, his voice trembling with desperation.
"Y/n? Look at me," he pleaded, his voice shaking.
"Look at me, love. Baby please, please just look at me." his voice broke as he continued, unable to accept the reality.
"I'm so sorry."
He tightly clung to your body but your lifeless eyes remained far away, and you were gone, lost forever to a world where his words couldn't reach you.
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moralesmilesanhour · 10 months
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teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2
summary: miles is not exactly a productive work partner
wc: ~800
A/N: not much plot movement here, but a tiny bit of exposition sort of. Miles will calm down in the following chapters...maybe 🥴
prev. next
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"Oh Miles? He's in some of my AP classes. Honor student," Your friend's voice filtered through your phone speakers while on the FaceTime call. She popped a potato chip in her mouth as she sat in bed and sniffled, at home with a nasty cold.
"I've heard his name before. I think his dad died, that true?"
"Yeah, a couple years ago. Say he used to be really sweet, and now he don't talk no more."
"That's sad," you remark. "Maybe that's why I'm only seeing him now."
"You actually saw him in class?!?"
Your friend's face was the picture of disbelief, eyes wide as saucers as if this was a rare event.
"Yeah, he's my partner for the week cuz you decided to go and get yo ass sick!" you explained, dramatically jabbing a finger at your phone screen.
"It's not my fault that kid from AP Chem sneezed on me, damn!"
"He's really smart, but his attitude fucking sucks. He draws good, though," you think out loud.
“It’s just a week, sis, give it four more days, you’ll be fine.”
“You’d better hope so, for your sake.”
-
The following afternoon saw you asking around, trying to piece together a picture of this kid that everyone simultaneously knew and didn’t know. By the time lunchtime ended and Ms. Jones’ calculus class rolled around, you had heard the following:
‘Almost flunked out of school…on purpose’.
‘Did graffiti on the school walls once.’
‘Freakishly quiet’.
‘Secretly joined a gang’.
That last bit made your stomach turn a little as you approached your new temporary seat. Sure enough, Miles was already slouched at his desk, twirling that same pen between his fingers like a drumstick. You didn’t bother to say ‘hi’ this time. He didn’t bother to look up, either.
Miles didn’t say a word during the lecture portion of class, not even to answer questions. Would explain why you’d hardly noticed him until this week.
As the heavy-set math teacher scanned the classroom, she frequently craned her neck and made brief eye contact with Miles, but never cold-called him.
Her skin was a chestnut shade, and she kept her dark hair pinned back in a tight, slick bun. The way she pressed her lips together as she moved on suggested that they’d been through this before, and she'd be sorely disappointed.
When her lecture ended, Miles suddenly stood to his full height.
You weren’t able to tell by the way he sat, but the boy was quite lanky. Even with his awkwardly-broad shoulders slumped, he likely was a half a head taller than you. Ms. Jones stopped her slow pacing around the classroom and sighed.
“Miles, sweetie, what did I say yesterday?”
Miles looked up at the ceiling and sighed in exasperation before plopping back down into his chair. He raised his hand as if it pained him to do so.
“Yes, Mr. Morales?”
“May I please use the restroom?”
A few snickers could be heard erupting around the classroom, and the woman rolled her eyes. An innocent smile was plastered over Miles’ face, revealing two deep dimples in his cheeks. If the smile had actually reached his eyes, you would’ve thought he was cute.
“Go ahead,” Jones relented.
The boy dropped the smile and noisily pushed his chair aside; As he shot back up from his seat and strolled past your desk towards the door, Jones narrowed her eyes at him.
“Hold it. Sir, where are your glasses?”
Miles stopped in his tracks, groaning loudly.
“Oh my god, I don’t need glasses to go potty, Ms. Jones. I can aim, I promise.”
“Make sure you put them on as soon as you get back, your mother told me to remind you. Go,” Jones said, waving her hand dismissively.
“Uh-huh, thank you, ma’am!” The boy was already in the hallway, letting the door slam behind him.
Today's partner work was just a packet of long equations to simplify, so you were only mildly irritated that Miles never seemed to return from his impromptu bathroom trip until the last fifteen minutes of class.
You looked up as he sauntered over to his desk, hands in his pockets.
“Where were you? Class is almost over,” you demanded.
Miles ignored you and sat down, picking up his pen to work at a long string of equations at lightning speed.
Suddenly, you reached over and snapped your fingers in front of him. The boy looked up with his lips curled into a grimace.
"What's good witchu? You got through the work, didn't you?" Miles hissed in a low whisper to avoid catching Ms. Jones' attention.
You frowned deeply. "And what if I didn't? I'd be struggling while you were off running around the damn school-"
"I needed time to myself," he interrupted. "To think."
" 'Think' about what?"
"Personal shit," Miles resumed his problem-solving. "Any more questions, officer?"
The school bell rang, pulling from you a sigh of relief that you wouldn't have to see him again for another 24 hours.
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aprilsprincess · 3 months
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you are in love | cedric diggory x fem!reader (part 1)
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Cedric was content with what he had. He was prefect, quidditch captain and the unspoken partner of yours. He wouldn't want to risk a thing with you because everything is so good as it is. But when other students are thrown into the equation, at the end of the day, is he truly yours?
warnings: two dummies in love, reader is a Gryffindor
word count: 2.5k
a/n: This is my first fic published so I'm nervous!! But I'm going to try to make multiple parts for this one because it was just getting too long and I have so many ideas for Cedric (bc we were robbed!) Also not proofread! ₊˚⊹♡
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Fred pushed the list of self made “Prettiest Girls at Hogwarts” in the new first years’ faces. The tiny moving portraits of the Hogwarts girls looked a little silly in the first years’ minds but the twins insisted that pictures solidify their case.   
“These are who you lot should be aiming for,” he stated with confidence, utterly prideful of the list, “aside from y/n of course, she’s off limits.” 
“Off limits? She said she didn’t have a boyfriend while she toured us though?” a small first year girl chirped. The twins exchanged a knowing look before chuckling slowly. 
“The beautiful Gryffindor prefect, my little unknowing friends, is off limits because ah, right on time as usual” George dramatically cocked his head in your direction.  
You had been eating your breakfast alone quite peacefully when you felt someone in yellow dawned robes slip into the open seat beside you. 
“Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff prefect, quidditch seeker-“ 
“And captain” George sang. 
“And just all around dream boy. All the girls think he’s bloody fit.” Fred concluded. 
“He has kind of an unspoken dibs on y/n. Has had one since last year when they became prefects. No one has even tried to make any advances on her cause of it.” 
“Why’s that?” the first years were now all huddled close to the twins, listening with intense interest. 
Fred rolled his eyes, “because look at the bloke!” A couple of students from neighbouring tables looked curiously in the direction of the loud proclamation. Looking around he leaned in closer to whisper, “Rumour has it he’s planning to put his name in for the Triwizard Tournament this year too. He’s as fit they come!” 
“Not to mention he’s so bloody nice that you can’t even hate the bloke for being so perfect.” George finished as the rest of the table nodded along, absorbing the precious information. 
“He’s not perfect you know.” Everyone whipped their head to see Hermione chiming in, not even looking up from her books. 
“If he was the dream boy you all say he is, they would’ve been together by now. Personally, I think he’s too comfortable for his own good.” 
“What’d you mean by that Hermione?” Fred asked. 
She shut her book with a thud and sighed, “Yes he’s attractive in all ways, but how long do you reckon he’s going to keep stringing her along like that? He’s been flirting with her for as long as he’s known her but won’t do anything about it. It’s sad really.” 
The twins paused while exchanging confused looks, not understanding what was so sad about the two perfect prefects’ relationship. 
“Ugh, boys!” Hermione, exasperated, gave up and opened the thick novel to continue her literature. 
It’s not like Cedric didn’t like you. He liked everything about you, but Hermione was right, he was comfortable with how things were. He wasn’t cocky, not in the slightest, but he was always far from worried when it came to you and other guys at the school. Everyone knew about you two, so he’s never been challenged for your attention. He in all honesty, guiltily enjoyed the lack of complication that the two of you had when it came to your relationship status. There wouldn’t be anything to lose if he didn’t start anything, so he stayed in his comfort with you. 
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“Morning y/n!” Cedric’s presence instantly made you feel relaxed and warm. 
“It’s such a pleasure seeing you here at my house’s table this morning Diggory.” you teased. It wasn’t completely unnatural for Cedric to join you at the Gryffindor table, but he usually felt that as a prefect, sitting at his own house table was almost a requirement. 
“I came bearing quite honourable and exciting news y/n,” he was beaming, so excited that it seemed like he was going to jump out of his seat, “I’ve decided to do it this year. I’ve officially made up my mind that I’m going to throw my name out for the Triwizard Tournament.” 
He was ecstatic, to say the least, and it was difficult for you to match his energy as you had just heard the worst news you could’ve expected from him. The Tournament has had students die while participating, so it wasn’t surprising that you didn’t want the boy you cared so much about to have a chance at it. 
He caught onto your uncertainty fairly quickly; you were obviously smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. He let out a breath and carefully reached for your hand. 
“I know that you may feel hesitant about it but believe me, I know the risks but there is so much for me to gain from this experience. So please trust in me y/n.” his pleading eyes were too difficult to resist. 
“I do, I do trust you Cedric,” you mustered as much support as you could in that moment, “the Goblet would be stupid not to choose such a fine competitor.” Your words seemed to satisfy Cedric as he jumped out of his seat, gave you a quick kiss atop of your head and sped off to the Hufflepuff common rooms. 
He had made his mind up and the only thing you could possibly do was to try to hex that stupid over-gloried cup in your mind as you prayed to Dumbledore for Cedric’s name not to be pulled.  
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The news that students from other schools were coming to Hogwarts excited the masses. It wasn’t every day they got to see such new faces. Especially faces as attractive as the Beauxbaton and Durmstrang students. 
Everyone was bursting with excitement in the Great Hall, awaiting anxiously for the foreign students to arrive. You on the other hand were busy glancing at Cedric who was chatting happily with his housemates. 
“You’re staring you know.” Hermione’s deadpan voice made your head turn to face her, your eyes lingering just a second longer on the Hufflepuff table. 
“Honestly y/n, we have some of the greatest wizarding students coming in for a tournament that only happens every five years and your focus is on Diggory? Merlin y/n if anything, focus on the OWLs instead.” Hermione wasn’t annoyed, but instead truly baffled as to how you could easily ignore such a large celebration for one boy. 
You held up your hands in defense, but before you could retort, Dumbledore had already started introducing the new guests. 
The vision of blue overwhelmed your senses and you were stunned for a second, only being snapped back to reality by the hollering of the surrounding boys. You shifted in your seat in an attempt to see Cedric’s reaction to the Beauxbaton girls, but the rowdiness of the male students blocked your vision. Sinking back in your seat pouting, you wondered if Cedric was enjoying this as much as the other boys were. I mean, Ron was practically drooling. You didn’t have much time to sulk over the issue as you got simultaneously shoved on both sides by Hermione and Ginny. You craned your neck to see what was causing this female commotion. 
“Oh Merlin y/n, it’s Viktor Krum! And he’s even better up close!” Ginny whispered excitedly. You stared at the older boy not really impressed but you giggled with Ginny nonetheless, feeling left out of the Viktor-Krum-is-so-handsome festivities that were happening at the table. 
From across the grand path of new students, Cedric stared at you as you giggled and whispered with Ginny. Following your line of sight, his eyes were met with the stiff, soldier-like, famous Viktor Krum. Groaning, he hung his head in his hands as the noises of the Great Hall faded in his ears. He was beginning to think, maybe he was, in fact too cocky when it came to you. 
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Your friends were whispering excitedly in the courtyard when you had joined them. 
“What’s got you lot so excited?” you asked while squeezing to sit between Hermione and Ginny on the ledge. 
“Viktor Krum! What else?” Ginny chirped excitedly. Just at the mention of his name, the other girls squealed in pure bliss. You observed your young friends’ excitement happily. You hadn’t had much time to observe the new Hogwarts guests, as the reality of Cedric putting his name into the goblet this year became more and more clear to you. A warm hand delicately tapped your shoulder from behind you, breaking you from your worries temporarily, and you looked up and behind to see Cedric standing behind you while giving you his most infamous, heart-stopping smile. 
“Ladies” he nodded to the group of girls in acknowledgement before bringing his full attention to you. Content, you leaned your head back into his chest as you looked up at the boy who seemed to be radiating sunshine. 
“Cedric! What are you doing here?” you were beaming. He looked like honey. You couldn’t really describe it, but he was just so warm and so sweet. Beautiful really.  Especially in the courtyard sun. 
“I thought you could perhaps lend me your potions books for today?” he grinned lopsidedly at you as you sighed and pulled out the heavy book. How could you ever say no to this boy? 
“You’re the champion of my heart y/n, you know that?” you laughed when he clutched his heart with his free arm. Your heart bubbled with warmth. You let yourself bask in the feeling only for a moment when Ginny moved to head back to the common rooms first. Feeling rather amorous, you told her you would meet her back there soon. You wanted to share your bubbly feelings with someone and Ginny always loved listening to it. 
“Not just your heart Diggory.” Hermione teased quietly seeing that you were distracted with Ginny for a moment. She gestured Cedric towards a pair of Durmstrang students. One in particular seemed to be taking quite an interest in you. As the Durmstrang boy kept glancing at you, Cedric’s hand on your shoulder unconsciously became a little stiffer and he pulled you a little closer. 
Cedric then bent down to reach your ear and whispered lowly, “I really do appreciate it y/n. You’re not only the champion of my heart but also the one who holds my mind, body and soul in all completion.” The cheesiness of his words had you giggling. You knew he didn’t truly mean what he was saying, but the light tinge of pink on your cheeks was evident. 
Stretching back up to stand Cedric held his gaze on the Durmstrang boy, feeling rather confident and accomplished as he watched the boy’s friend pat him on the back consolingly as they walked away. 
“Oh, Merlin! I forgot that I told Ginny I’d meet her in the common room!” you frantically gathered your things and hollered rushed goodbyes. “Don’t forget to return my potions book Cedric!” you reminded and he chuckled lightly to himself in response. 
As your sporadic figure grew smaller in the distance, Hermione turned to face Cedric. “You know Diggory, every guy at Hogwarts may know of your guys’ relationship, but the ones at Durmstrang don’t.” Hermione stated matter-of-factly, making Cedric’s grin falter. 
“What’s that supposed to mean Granger?” Frustrated, Hermione groaned, “It means that although the boys at Hogwarts don’t fancy y/n, that doesn’t mean that the boys at Durmstrang won’t. You can’t pull that kind of stunt again with every Durmstrang boy she comes in contact with. Godric, boys are so dim sometimes!” she huffed as she turned on her heel to leave. 
Cedric rubbed the back of his neck, feeling quite sheepish for being caught in his rather childish act. Hermione was right though, he wouldn’t be able to keep every single guy away from you. So what was he supposed to do? 
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The night of the choosing of names came all too fast for you. You knew he put in his name. You knew he really wanted this. And for some reason, you felt like you knew he would be picked. This weighed heavily on your mind and you honestly could not for the life of you, pay attention to who the other two victors were. 
The paper flew out and Dumbledore caught it. The dread in your stomach increased to a nauseating level, the chatter of the students ringing in your ears and then the room went quiet. It wasn’t actually quiet but suddenly you weren’t able to hear the cheers of your peers as you watched the boy you yearned for so dearly, walk through the aisles in celebratory fashion. Your head started spinning, how many students had entered their names? What were the odds? How was it possible that the one student, the one student that you couldn’t risk being out in that tournament, had gotten picked? 
Cedric was on top of the world at that moment. He wasn’t too interested in becoming legendary or glorified through the Tournament but was simply elated to bring pride to the Hufflepuff House. He would be lying though, if he said that he would gladly take on the glory if it meant you would see him as such. Thinking of you, he searched quickly for your head in the crowd. When he finally spotted you, his grin widened but as he saw your fallen and disconnected expression he grew concerned and tried to move his way through the crowd to your spot. Unfortunately, it was a lost cause as the Goblet erupted once more and the wave of confused students swept Cedric further away from you. 
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“Krum’s got a yes!” Cedric turned his attention away from his house tablemates to the rowdy group of Durmstrang boys that were chirping excitedly. 
“Who’s the lucky woman Viktor? I mean half of this school wants to be your date to the Yule Ball! You have to tell us who you ended up asking!” the boys leaned in eager to hear more about Viktor’s proposal. 
“Who else, I asked the pretty Gryffindor I said I would ask.” he replied shortly, seemingly unamused by his friends. 
“Bloody hell, he’s asked y/n!” Cedric whipped his head around to the first-year Hufflepuff who had also turned to listen in. Cedric’s facial expression dropped. 
Glancing at Cedric nervously one of the older Hufflepuffs questioned the girl, “How in Merlin’s Beard would know that? Krum didn’t even say that he had asked y/n.” 
“It’s obvious!” she smiled as she hurriedly reached into her pocket and fished out a piece of paper. 
“Prettiest…Girls…At…Hogwarts” one of the Hufflepuffs read aloud slowly. Unbeknownst to you, the twins have not only been solidifying their list with the Gryffindor first years, but ALL the first years. 
“Look!” she pointed to your tiny moving portrait on the paper. 
“It says right there: y/n, 6th year, Gryffindor. If Viktor Krum had been talking about a pretty Gryffindor, it had had to be her. She’s a prefect, he would absolutely go for her!” the tiny girl smiled proudly at her findings as if she had cracked a hard case. 
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Sitting alone in the Hufflepuff common room, Cedric was deep in thought. 
Had Viktor Krum really asked you to the ball? Had you really said yes? He knew he hadn’t asked you at all but he had assumed it was only natural that the two of you would’ve gone together. Right..?
The more he questioned you and himself the more miserable he became.
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hotchs-big-hands · 7 months
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dbf & corruption link Hotch with plus-sized reader who didn’t think he would ever be interested in HER and is so naive about it omfg the gif u reposted fuckkk I can’t stop thinking about it
YEAHHHH YOU GET IT
Okay I didn't realise I was gonna turn this into a whole fic JWFJEKFKDKFKRK (I'm writing this midway through the fic rn whoops 🫣)
Reader is early 20s and lives at home with her dad. I cba writing too much abt it in the plot sorry lol
Dbf!Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader|Minors dni NSFW|5.9K words
Warning(s): SMUT, Corruption kink, fingerfucking, sir/daddy kink 👀, almost getting caught
(d/n) = dad's name
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It wasn't often you met your dad's friends, they only really managed a few meet ups a year with how busy people's lives were these days. And so when your dad approached you to inform you he was attending a meal out with said friends you were happy for him. But you didn't expect him to offer you to join him.
"My buddies have been wondering how you're getting on," he had said, standing in the doorway of your bedroom. "You should come along, sunny. The guys are bringing along their partners but eh, you know me. As big of a bachelor as one can be."
You rolled your eyes with a chuckle, but within your stomach you felt it coiling with anxiety. And you knew he could tell from the change of expression on his face.
"Hey... you don't actually have to come along if you're not comfortable. I know you don't really, uh, enjoy these sorts of things."
"No, no! I'll come along. Um, I just don't really remember any of your friends by name." You said quickly. He chuckled and shook his head, and you knew if he was closer he would have ruffled your hair affectionately.
"Fair enough, sunny. That's a relief actually, given that I already booked for you to come along as well."
With a gasp, you thumped your dad lightly.
"Dude!" You cried, making him laugh and step back a little.
"Well, we're aiming to meet up around seven tonight so be sure to be ready by half six." He grinned at you and you felt yourself returning the expression. It was nice seeing your dad looking a lot happier these days.
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By the time you were dressed up ready for the meal that night you were inwardly panicking. Had you overdressed? Underdressed? Why did it even matter what his friends thought? Oh god, having to eat in front of his friends?! Needless to say, you were an absolute mess. Your dad grabbed one of your hands to squeeze it comfortingly as the two of you sat in the back of a taxi on the way to the restaurant and your lips curled up slightly in appreciation. It would be okay. There was no need to panic.
The ride was all too short to calm your nerves and at this point you felt jittery. It was too late to back out now though, and you quickly climbed out of the taxi when your dad walked around to open your door for you, mumbling a quick thanks and smoothing out the skirt of your pretty dress. You hadn't gone with anything flashy, opting to wear a mid-thigh length white dress that was covered in tiny blue flowers with a dropped neckline, some pretty knee-high socks and white sneakers. It made you feel good, your large curves complimented your outfit and you felt less inclined to shy away right now. With a quick adjustment of the strap of your bag, you followed your dad into the restaurant.
Oh... it was certainly more posh than you anticipated. Had your dad's friends always been this fancy?! Those coils of anxiety only tightened more as your dad spoke to the waiter about the booking. And then you were both escorted to a large table where six other people were already seated.
"Well look who it is! (D/n), you're looking well!" One of the men exclaimed cheerfully. You vaguely recognised the faces around the table, but not enough to know them by name. The man's eyes flicked to you and his eyes widened. "Goodness! Is that your little one?! You're all grown up!"
Your cheeks felt hot as you quickly sat down beside your dad, smiling shyly at the outspoken friend.
"Yeah, it's me. I don't think you guys have seen me since I was... eleven?" You conversed quietly. One of the wives of a different friend leaned forward, eyes sparkling.
"You look gorgeous, sweetie!"
Beside you, your dad could feel you trembling slightly and chuckled, waving his friends off.
"Alright, alright let the girl be."
As the attention drifted from you and the conversations changed to the mundane of friends catching up after a long time, your eyes drifted around the table. Your brows slightly pulled together. There was an empty seat next to you on your left. You gently nudged your dad, who turned to you.
"What's up, sunny?" He asked quietly. You offered a quick smile of reassurance.
"Um, is there meant to be someone else here?"
His eyes flicked to the empty chair, then back to you.
"Ohhh right yes! You remember Mr Hotchner, right? He's running a little late but he should be here soon."
No, you didn't quite remember Mr Hotchner. It had been years since you'd heard anything surrounding that name. All you knew was he had a very involved job that took him all over the country. As you sat deep in thought your dad's voice cut through as he made a humming noise, mouth full of beer. You glanced at him, noting he was looking over your shoulder at someone. But before you could turn you heard the chair next to you slide on the polished floor and shuffle as someone sat down in it. A wave of an alluring cologne flooded your senses and you slowly turned back to facing the table, heart racing. Then you heard him.
"I'm sorry I'm late, we just got back from a case. Barely had time to freshen up at home before coming here." Mr Hotchner spoke smoothly, voice deep and sensually gentle. You dared to glance next to you and you clenched your pillowy thighs together. Fucking christ, he was sexy! With the corner of his mouth turned upwards, the man oozed assurance and control as he greeted his friends around the table. Your eyes couldn't stop wandering over his features, the scattered beauty marks on his mature skin, the eyebags under his dark eyes, the prominent slope of his nose that you quickly had to move on from to not let your mind wander too much... His hair was short with a few stray wisps flopping onto his forehead and you could have sworn you could spot a few streaks of grey in it too.
And then he turned to look at you and your father. He raised a brow, feigning surprise.
"Oh hello, Mr (L/n). It's been a very long time since I saw you last. And this must be..." his eyes drifted to you, his lips twitching.
"(Y/n), sir." You managed to say, feeling hot and flustered. You dad chortled.
"My lovely sunny is here to humor her old man! Don't spook her."
"Spook me?" You squeaked. Mr Hotchner chuckled and shook his head.
"He's referring to me profiling people as part of my job. It tends to freak people out." He explained to you in that delicious voice of his. "And please, call me Aaron. Calling me sir makes me feel old."
Aaron didn't look even the slightest bit annoyed, his smirk only growing as his eyes travelled up and down your figure. You shivered.
"I- I see... Could you tell me more about this, um, profiling stuff? I don't really know what you do for a living." You admitted. Aaron had ordered a bourbon, taking hold of the glass and sipping some of the deep orange coloured liquid and setting the glass down again.
"Oh? Well, seeing as you're curious..."
You barely remembered the meal you had ordered, more engrossed in the conversation you were having with this man. He was so fascinating, passionate and when the topic of his son came up his smile softened and he pulled his wallet out to show you a photo of the cute boy. That... hm. You didn't want to think about the fact that he had already been through something as involved as having a child with someone. There was no place for you to be thinking about this man any more than a daughter of his best friend should.
But here you were, spending the night chatting to the man effortlessly whilst your heart fluttered. It was only when your dad tapped you on the shoulder that you realised the evening was coming to an end.
"Hey sunny, I know you're having a great chat with Aaron there but it's time to get going." He said with a chuckle. Your eyes widened slightly and you scowled, shoving him with your shoulder.
"Say less dad, I beg." You shot back quickly, cheeks flushing as you followed along with him pushing away from the table and standing up. Your hands smoothed out your dress, making sure all was in place again and you shuffled closer to standing next to your dad. It was when Aaron rose up slowly from his own seat with an air of grace that you realised you had to crane your neck a bit to look him in the face. The corner of his mouth twitched at the slight widening of your eyes when he straightened up and you dipped your head quickly.
"Don't worry, I'll be sure to try see you again. Although, I'm not certain on when that would be." He spoke, eyes focused on you. Your dad reached forward to shake his hand, seemingly oblivious to what was happening.
"Whenever you're back in town Aaron, you're free to come visit, my pleasure." He shook firmly, but Aaron was barely focussed. With an unwavering eye contact, his smirk widened. You could feel your legs trembling slightly under his fiery gaze.
"Oh, the pleasure is mine."
When their hands dropped, Aaron turned to you and offered to shake your hand as well, his hand smothering yours when you hesitantly reached out to take it. He gazed down at you, his thick lashes framing his gorgeous brown eyes.
"Until next time, (Y/n)." He said quietly and then turned around and walked away. Your dad raised a brow at you as you watched the older man retreat but merely chuckled once under his breath.
"Come on you, taxi's on its way." Your dad pulled you from your daze and you blinked, cheeks feeling warm for being caught staring. With a huff, you slapped your dad's shoulder when you noticed the growing grin on his face.
"Yeah, yeah. Shut up."
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Over the next couple months, you saw Aaron briefly as he passed by in between cases. Each time, no matter for how short of a time, he would stop to chat and get to know you a little more. And every time you felt your crush grow stronger and stronger. But suddenly, he stopped showing up. You never heard from him, not a peep. Humiliatingly, when you idly asked your father if he had heard from the man he showed you the communications he had had from the last time Aaron had been in town to now. To say the least it left you feeling crushed and stupid.
Another month flew by after that before you saw Mr Hotchner again. For the first couple weeks you were secretly hopeful he would show up again, checking up every time you returned from work. But he never showed. And it... well, it didn't feel good to miss someone you had only met properly once and had a couple smaller conversations after that with. Maybe he knew you had a stupid crush on him and was put off from showing up. He had no reason to want someone like you, after all. By the sixth week since you'd seen the man last you'd forced yourself to move on from being hopeful.
And then when you returned home from work one evening you noticed an unfamiliar car parked at the end of the driveway. Tired, you paid it no mind and trudged up to the front door and let yourself in with your key. You shuffled into the house and locked the door behind you, then made a move to enter the living room.
"Hey, dad? I'm home." You called out. There was a scuffle of feet and the very same man appeared with a grin.
"Ah, there you are! We have a guest over, as you probably could tell." He said cheerily and you chuckled.
"Mhm, well I'll just go and change upstairs. Be back in a sec."
With a ruffle of your hair from your dad, you rushed upstairs and decided to take a shower to wash the exhaustion of the day away. After you'd dumped your bag on your bed, you grabbed your towel and a fresh set of lounging clothes to lay out on your bed and made your way to the bathroom which was down the hall. Avoiding looking in the large vanity mirror, you stripped and stepped under the warm water of the shower once you'd switched it on.
"Mmh.." you groaned as the water sprayed down your achy muscles. For a moment, you simply stood there with your eyes closed as you basked in the soothing sensation. A moment later you lathered your plush body with your favourite soaps, taking care to glide your hands over your every curve. Idly, you thought of him, of those hands of his. You switched the water to cold.
Feeling clean and relaxed, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped your towel around yourself. Now all there was to do was return to your bedroom. As you crossed the hall, you heard the tap of footsteps making their way up the staircase. As sneakily as you could, you peeked to see who was ascending and a little squeak escaped you against your will. Still just as devastatingly handsome as the last time you saw him, Mr Hotchner was gaining closer and closer to your location and with a quick jump of action you scurried the rest of the way to your room and all but slammed your door shut.
Your chest heaved, adrenaline pumped through you and shakily you towelled yourself off and redressed in the fresh clothing. Maybe it was better if you changed, you thought as you looked down at the slightly more fitted tank top and shorts you were sporting now.
"No, don't be ridiculous." You mumbled to yourself and after hanging your towel up to dry you forced your legs to move towards your bedroom door and back out to the hallway. It was when you made it to the top of the stairs he called out to you.
"Oh, (Y/n). I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were exiting the bathroom earlier." Aaron said smoothly, startling you to spin on your axel towards him. Shit, had he seen you?!
"Um, it's fine. No harm done." You mumbled in response, shifting your weight from one hip to the other under his dark gaze. His brow twitched.
"Right."
Much to your dismay, he was by your side quicker than you realised and the two of you descended down to find your dad. With every step, the back of Aaron's hand would brush against the side of your arm accidentally, causing goosebumps to spring up across your skin. What were you to say to this man now?
"It's...it's been a while since you were last in town." You said finally, internally wincing and wishing you'd stayed quiet. The man beside you hummed.
"Had an onslaught of back-to-back cases. This is the first time my team and I have been able to catch a break. And... well, we won't get into it just yet." Aaron responded, his exhaustion barely suppressed behind his words. You wanted answers, to know why he showed up now or all times. Of what he wouldn't get into. Instead, you made a barely audible noise in response.
Glancing at the man you realised he was full on frowning now and you cleared your throat, chest aching.
"Oh! I see you found her then, huh?" The sound of your dad's voice startled you and you quickly stepped away from the older man beside you. Rounding the corner, your dad appeared wearing a jacket and shoes over his clothes, confusing you.
"Dad? Where are you going?" You asked.
"Just going to the store to grab some food."
Aaron frowned and stepped forward, stuffing his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet.
"Here, let me head to the store or at least pay for the inconvenience." He said but your dad huffed and straightened out his jacket.
"No, you're our guest, Aaron. Now grab yourself a drink and relax, buddy."
Shaking his head but smiling, Aaron reluctantly stuffed his wallet away and raised his hands in defeat.
"Next time is on me, (D/n)."
"Deal." Your dad grinned, then he shifted his focus to you. "You be a good host now, got it?"
You grimaced.
"I mean I don't mind going, he's here to see you anyway so.."
"Nonsense, I'm here to visit both of you." The man beside you said, of which your dad chuckled.
"Well there you go, he said it himself. Now I'm going out so we're not waiting too late having dinner."
You scoffed at his words but inwardly your heart was pounding. He was seriously leaving you home alone with Mr Hotchner?! Your eyes flitted to the man, who was seemingly paying attention to your father as he moved towards the front door. It was only when you heard the slam of the door that it truly sunk in; you were home alone with the man you'd grown an embarrassingly big crush on while simultaneously feeling an unjustified anger towards.
On shaky legs, you shuffled towards the kitchen to grab a drink and calm your nerves. Just as you grabbed a glass from the cupboard he spoke.
"Are you alright?" Aaron's voice startled you once again and automatically your hand let go of the glass cup, a crash following as it smashed into glistening, sharp shards. You'd barely gasped when Aaron appeared crouched before you, picking larger shards up immediately.
"I'm sorry." He uttered, snapping you out of your startled trance. You crouched down as well as you shook your head vigorously.
"No, it's okay. It's my fault-"
You looked up and froze, realising your faces were far closer than you'd anticipated. He was frowning, then he straightened up rapidly to dump the shards of glass in his hands in the trashcan.
"Please, leave the clean up to me. I was the one who startled you. Besides, you haven't got shoes on right now. So, can you hop up on the counter top?" He asked you, his tone more firm than you'd heard before. It made your lower lip jut out. You made a noise of acknowledgement, straightened up and braced your palms on the counter top behind you to help yourself onto it. Aaron had turned back to you by this point, a wash of satisfaction traced over his more alert expression at the sight of you safely away from the shards on the ground.
"Vacuum?" He simply said. You winced.
"O-oh.. um, it's in the storage under the staircase."
With a nod, Aaron swiftly left the room, his footsteps echoing through the house. God, could you feel anymore embarrassed than you did already in that moment? He had to clean up after you because you were incapable of functioning around him. You wished you had a crush on someone nearer your age, at least they wouldn't find you so childish as you suspected Aaron did. With your head hanging low you didn't even notice him re-enter the room, not until he padded towards you carefully and set the vacuum down.
"Hey... it's alright, just an accident. I didn't mean to scare you." He said softly. You sniffled and shook your head.
"S'fine. I'm okay." You mumbled. He paused for a moment, then placed a hand on your knee.
"I'll just quickly clean this mess up, alright sweetheart? I'll be with you as soon as I can."
Your head shot up at the pet name, wet eyes wide as you studied his face. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, despite the concerned furrow in his brow.
"There you are. Just sit tight, don't want any glass to hurt you."
You watched as Aaron set up the vacuum cleaner and, crouched again, he hastily but thoroughly removed the debris from the floor. When he was satisfied, he unplugged the machine and lifted it up, the muscles in his arms bulging in his neat dress shirt. Your eyes followed him, but dropped away when he glanced your way.
"Um thanks, Mr Hotchner." You uttered and made a move to slide off the counter top. And then one of his long legs pressed against your shin, willing you to stay in place.
"Ah, ah, ah wait there." He muttered.
You quivered and shuffled back onto the counter top properly. What on earth..? You watched him leave again, swinging your legs nervously. Surely he had got rid of all the glass, right? You were unable to ponder for long when Aaron returned again, eyes on you as he approached. Your brows creased.
"Um I'm sure I can move, right? You got all the glass."
He hummed, stopping in front of you now, gaze still unwavering.
"Can't be too careful now, can we?" He said with a little smirk. You swallowed thickly.
"I..."
"May I talk to you about something?"
Your eyes trailed over his face, noting on an emotion you hadn't spotted upon first inspection. Slowly, you shook your head.
"Um yes, you can, Mr Hotchner."
He puffed air out of his nose.
"You don't need to be so formal with me, (Y/n)."
You dropped your gaze.
"Sorry, can't help it." You managed to say, feeling shy and silly. He leaned one hip against the counter beside you, crossing his arms against his broad chest.
"Don't apologise, sweetheart." He shifted his weight, now a little closer still to you. His scent enveloped you, it was soothing. "I... wanted to apologise for disappearing for a long time." He finally said. You shuddered.
"Um, it's okay-"
The sound of him clearing his throat silenced you and rendered you unable to do anything more than stare wide-eyed at him. He hummed and raised a brow.
"Sweetheart, you do know I can tell when someone is lying, right?"
Fuck.
"Mr Hotchner, sir I- I'm not lying, It's okay-"
Aaron moved suddenly, caging you in by placing his hands either side of your wide, plump hips and stared you down.
"Tsk. Don't be naughty by doubling down on lying." He gazed through his thick lashes now, leaning his face closer to yours. His scent overwhelmed you now and you bit back a whimper. "Come now, I upset you and I want to make things right."
You squeezed your eyes shut and gripped onto your shorts tightly, balling the fabric up in your tight fits.
"F-fine. I just... why did you stop visiting all of a sudden?" You wrinkled your nose a little and huffed. "God, I sound like a fucking weird-"
"No. Allow me to explain."
You exhaled quietly, not expecting him to cut you off like that. He sighed and lifted his hands up to rub his face.
"I... well, I had to distance myself from you. Not because I don't enjoy seeing you, it's more the opposite. I have feelings for you which I most certainly should not have, not as a friend of your father." He said, fumbling his thumb and pointer finger together.
You froze.
Was this really happening? Your heart felt like it was racing, your stomach coiling as you stared at him.
"I- Mr Hotchner, you..."
Aaron grimaced and shifted his weight, ready to step back from you.
"I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. I knew this was a bad idea to tell you, but I just thought you should know why I had started avoiding you." He said sincerely, then dropped his arms and turned his body.
You didn't know why you did it, but your hand shot out and you grabbed his shirt.
"-No! Don't- don't go!"
Aaron's breath hitched from your outburst, but he also didn't try to pull away from your touch either.
"(Y/n)..."
You felt warm, dropping your gaze whilst your fingers messed with the expensive fabric of his shirt.
"I- I don't want you to leave. You didn't make me uncomfortable." You mumbled. The man waited for you to continue speaking as you opened your mouth and closed it a few times. "I, um, I just wasn't expecting you to say you were interested in me."
Your eyes flicked to his face and you sucked your lower lip between your teeth at the furrowed expression on his face.
"You thought I wasn't interested in you?" Aaron's brows raised and he stepped a little closer towards you. "Sweetheart, I don't tend to talk to people outside of my close circle much at all, and, admittedly, I don't often visit people very often. But I just had to see you again."
His confession made you feel strange in a way you couldn't pinpoint on. Not necessarily bad, but a little unsure. Your eyes met his beautiful dark brown ones.
"Mr Hotchner, I don't see why you-"
"Call me that one more time and you'll be calling me sir instead." He cut you off sternly and you gasped. His left hand moved to rest on the counter just barely brushing against the outer side of your thigh and he leaned towards you, his face almost close enough for the two of you to kiss.
"I want you, sweetheart. I've spent the last few months trying to clear you from my thoughts," He paused to let out a small sigh. "However, you remain embedded within the foundations of my mind and I've come to accept this wholly. But just tell me if you don't want this and I will never bring this to you again, I promise."
Your eyes trailed over his face, tracing the creases and lines of age and you longed to feel them under your fingertips. You grabbed onto his arm.
"I-I want this... please. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you too." You confessed with a shy smile. Aaron chuckled through an exhale of relief and he began to close the gap between your lips and his.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
Desperately, you pressed your lips to his and moved your hands to grip onto his broad shoulders. Responding to you, Aaron's hands moved to grab onto the squish of your hips, digging into them as he pulled you ever closer towards him. Now chest to chest, you whined against his mouth and instinctively, your legs parted enough for him to slip between.
All too soon, you parted for oxygen, your chest heaving and straining under your lounging tee. Aaron brushed his nose against yours sensually, his thumbs stroking your hips.
"I estimate your father will be gone for forty-five minutes at most." He murmured and you whimpered.
"Y-yes, maybe..."
"Sweet girl, I want to make sure you know how I feel, truly."
Your hands tightened their grip on the shirt.
"H-how?"
He chuckled, pressing a light kiss to your lips.
"If you'll let me, sweet girl, I want to pleasure you. We'll have to be quick though, at least this time round."
This time, this time. You felt light headed in the best way.
"W-what do you wanna do?" You hesitantly asked him. Aaron slid his hands to the expanse of your thighs with a hum.
"You don't know how much I wanted to slip my hand up your dress that night we met to touch your pretty pussy, sweetheart- "
"M-Mr Hotchner!" You squeaked, cheeks flushing from the dirty confession. A deep rumble reverberated through him and one of his hands lightly slapped your thigh. You jolted, but he held you in place.
"That's it, little girl. I don't want to hear any other title other than 'sir' from you now until I say so, is that clear?"
You nodded. Another slap, slightly closer to your inner thigh. You gasped out.
"Y-yes sir!"
Satisfied, Aaron hummed and grabbed onto your thighs and, with a hint of a smile, he pulled you closer to the edge and spread your legs wider. You yelped, hands grasping onto any part of him you could to steady yourself and he chuckled whilst pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth.
"Mhm, gonna let me take a look, sweetheart?" He murmured against your skin, fingers dancing along the waistband of your shorts. You whimpered.
"I-I-" Fuck, you didn't know what to even say. You'd done minimal things with others before, but they were underwhelming experiences and you preferred to close that chapter of your life. But here you were, sprawled out on the kitchen counter with your father's friend who was more than twice your age, trying to process what he had asked you.
Aaron brushed his nose against yours, bringing you from your racing thoughts.
"Aww, don't know what you want, sweet girl? It's alright, let daddy help you." He cooed. Almost immediately, your body spasmed with the way he addressed himself and he huffed out a quiet laugh. "You like that, huh? Like the thought of calling me daddy?"
You whimpered, hips rolling against his with need.
"Uh-huh, I do."
"Say it then, I want to hear it. Then I'll give you anything you want."
Your eyes widened at the commanding tone he used. Your pussy twitched.
"I- I do, daddy. Wanna call you daddy really badly."
"Mhmm.." Aaron pressed his lips to yours again and your hands gripped his shirt again. You could feel the prominent bulge in his pants against your clothed slit now, subconsciously grinding yourself against it. With a low growl, Aaron pulled his lips from yours sharply and his hands grasped your thighs to pin you in place. You whined, trying to push back and feel the friction against your pussy again.
"Behave, little girl. Now lift your butt up for me." He commanded you and, desperate for his touch, you propped yourself up on your elbows to raise your ass from the counter top. You vaguely heard him call you a good girl before he slipped his finger tips into the band of your shorts and, with a swift pull, he removed them. You squeaked, automatically closing your legs but Aaron growled, tugging your plush thighs apart again. Your chest heaved, arousal flaring within you as you realised he was staring directly at your panties. His mouth twitched.
"Pretty panties on such a pretty girl."
You whimpered when he let go of your right thigh to slide his thick fingers over a wet patch on the crotch of fabric. Your hips bucked, you hadn't realised just how pent up you were.
"D-daddy- please!" You pleaded and he cooed at you with a smirk.
"Want daddy to play with your little pussy, huh? We'll have to be quick if you wanna cum."
You nodded eagerly, grinding your hips against his fingers eagerly.
"Mmh- yes, sir!"
"Good girl. Hold your legs spread for me."
Hooking your hands underneath your knees, you trembled as Aaron moved his right hand to pull your panties to the side, revealing your slick, puffy pussy to him. He hummed in approval, ghosting his fingers over your folds and gathering some of your juices on the tips.
"You're so wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me?" He asked softly. You wiggled your hips a little.
"Y-yeah, daddy~ only for you..."
Aaron groaned as he parted your folds to reveal your hooded clit and dripping entrance.
"Next time I want to eat you out, sweet girl. You're fucking divine looking." He rumbled, swiping his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked immediately, Aaron hummed. "Gonna fingerfuck you this time, that sound nice, huh?"
"Mmmh, yeah daddy, need it!" You whimpered, at this point just desperate for anything. Aaron kissed you roughly, the sounds of both yours and his lips moving against one another made you squirm. But you gasped out when he slipped his thick middle finger into your entrance, taking you by surprise. And with a smug grunt, Aaron slid his tongue against yours to deepen the messy kiss. One finger became two, sliding in and out of your sopping wet hole and stretching you around the two digits.
The edge of his palm massaged your throbbing, little clit as he curled the fingers upwards inside you, searching for the spot that would have your toes curling. A sudden burning pleasure spread through your lower abdomen and you moaned against Aaron's mouth. You felt his lips curl into a smile, smug as he began to thrust the two fingers up inside you in an unbreaking movement. You heard it then, the messy, gushing sound of your pussy squelching in time with the rapid thrusts and you bucked up into it, feeling the burning pleasure begin to build up. You couldn't kiss back anymore, mouth fallen open now with every whimper and cry as the thrusts increased in speed. Aaron bit down onto your lower lip, then pulled away with a wet kiss.
"You're fucking clenching around daddy's fingers so well, sweetheart. You close, huh? You gonna cum for me?" He coaxed you, the hand that had originally been holding your panties to the side now pressed down on your plush stomach, leveraging his other hand's movement. You sobbed and writhed, eyes fluttering as you struggled to keep them open.
"G-gonna cu-um! Wanna cum, daddy!"
With a grunt, Aaron's fingers moved blindingly fast, your pussy's squelches echoing in the kitchen along with your wails. He pressed his lips to your neck.
"Fucking cum for me, sweetheart. Come on, that's a good girl. Cum." He growled at you. And as your pussy began to flutter and clench around his fingers he ripped them from your hole and instead brushed them over your almost neglected clit. It was almost instantaneous then, the arch of your back, the roll of your eyes, moaning brokenly as you cummed hard.
And then you heard the keys jingling in the lock of the front door.
"Fuck-" Aaron hissed, pulling his hand away and quickly grabbing your shorts so you could pull them back on again. You were shaking, struggling to pull the garment of clothing back on so you could slip off the counter top. You heard running water, spying Aaron washing his hands and when you met his gaze the two of you giggled, adrenaline pumping through your veins.
"G-go up to the bathroom!" You whispered, gesturing to the prominent bulge in his crotch area. He huffed, but grinned and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.
"We'll continue this another time, sweetheart." He whispered. He rushed off out of sight and, whilst on still shaky legs, you turned to wipe down the kitchen top just in time for your father to enter the room.
"Ah, you getting a head start with clearing up ready to eat?" Your dad greeted you and you bit your lip to hold back a giggle.
"Mhm, don't you know it."
Needless to say, Mr Hotchner ended up staying too late to drive home that night.
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Not my best work I gotta say but 😔😔 hope yawl like it anyway SKSKSKSK
Gonna move the taglist to the comment section I think but yeah if you'd like to be tagged in future works lemme know!
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aarontaylorsjohnson · 2 months
Text
at this point it almost feels like joe alwyn was the one kept locked away for 6 years because the man couldn't fill up his car or get a haircut without getting stalked. the photos coming out now are at events where he has an opportunity to know it's coming, select his clothing and styling, wear a pin representing a cause that's important to him. he has control of his appearances now instead of gritting his teeth during pap walks for backgrid.
we know how ts feels when she feels the narrative is being pulled out of her control ("gaslit by an entire system"). a sense of control over one's own life seems essential for sanity and i don't think it's fair for people to gloss over the part where she agreed to the level of privacy he needed and publicly endorsed it during some of her media statements made during the relationship (which i applaud for being unusually restrained and mature at the time). extreme extroverts and extreme introverts can try to make it work but neither is wrong if it doesn't work (if the breakdown is specifically about that difference between them) and it's kinda crappy to couch it in terms of "being locked away" now. especially since some of the locking away was due to a global pandemic.
joe alwyn wasn't on my radar for most of the 6 years except 1) i felt her music entered a new era of relationship contentment and grown up sensuality that reflected late 20s/early 30s womanhood and then transitioned into a more literary set of albums (folkmore) that had a broader focus thematically and 2) i heard little about him and there was effectively zero romantic drama for 5 full years. what a break for her (and us!).
now i'm more impressed by him than ever. he's quiet in the wake of it all, focuses on his industry commitments and the work he's doing, and absolutely glows with newfound relaxed joy. i absolutely do not think women shouldn't be entitled to have strong, deep emotions and write about those experiences. her work is perhaps the strongest ever in terms of conveying a feminine quixotic, idealized romantic viewpoint and then the flipside of idealizing (it's giving BPD!!!) which is devaluation/disillusionment/disenchantment, resentment, feelings of being deceived or let down ("maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up" being the early and best example).
the way joe has handled this, though, has made his status in my mind go from "just some guy" to an example of stability and fortitude that interests me. I personally believe that not publicly suffering is not necessarily a sign of callous lack of empathy - sometimes it means maturity and perspective. sw*fties harassing her exes want/ed to see a public mea culpa/punishment/expression of suffering that they feel equals their idols' - it's giving fatal attraction from those fans. maybe we don't need our past partners to suffer. maybe processing feelings involves personal reflection and doesn't require another party.
i'll leave off with this to support idealization/devaluation (the classic bpd trend):
Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes
'Cause I can't help it if you look like an angel
Say you're sorry, that face of an angel
And I damn sure would've never danced with the devil
Dear reader, when you aim at the devil
He looks up, grinning like a devil
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pakunod-a · 2 months
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Silly Prom Night
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Prompt: It's prom night! What do these men do in the ballroom? 🤨
Pairing: Overblot boys x Reader
Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil (I) [here]
Vil, Idia, Malleus (II) [here]
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CW: Random stuff, not really fanfiction-ish, more like drabbles, some shorter than others lolololololololololol Reader is referred to as You and Yuu. Reader is described to wear a gown, other than that it's gender-neutral if you don't mind the fabric gap. Bad English because I'm not a native English speaker :( not proof-read, random as FUCK and characters might seem very ooc if they do I blame my not-so-American education
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Notes: entire work is based off of stuff that happened to me last night at prom, and i was thinking about various characters that would probably fit the profile of all the mishaps that happened to me last night lolololol
Work under the cut :)
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Riddle Rosehearts !
You were sitting at your table, waiting for the buffet service to end so you could take the dance floor.
Well, it's not like anyone's dancing with you.
To be fair, you were supposed to be partnered with a first-year, who got sick the night before, so he couldn't make it. Poor lad.
It was horribly long, it felt like a very, very long time.
It took around thirty minutes for the dance to start, and everybody's got a partner.
All, except for you.
What a bummer.
Wait, is that the housewarden of Heartslabyul, in the corner, without anyone asking him to dance?!
Let's go fix that. 🏃
You ask him if he wants to dance, and he simply says;
"No."
"Come on, it's a ball, you're supposed to dance. You're getting there whether you like it or not. This long ass dress won't stop me from dragging you on the dance floor."
You ended up having a half-hearted Riddle dance with you.
Honestly, the way he held you felt like he wasn't interested at all, let alone happy. It felt like he was disgusted by your presence.
Every time you'd look at him, he would have an unpleasant look on his face, and aim his gaze elsewhere.
After the dance is over, and everyone returns to their seats, and you get a notification from your phone on Magicam. It was Cater, tagging you in a post.
"So cute! I'm vouching for RiddeYuu next year. #RiddeYuu #YuuRid"
..huh. Attached to the post was a video, and a bunch of hashtags you swear you didn't care about. You clicked the video, thinking that it was some kind of impractical prank being played on you.
Oh boy.
Boy, were you wrong.
In the video, it was you and Riddle dancing together on the dance floor. Riddle was a mess, blushing and shying away from all the lights. He had a small smile, as he evaded your gaze whenever you looked at him. He seemed genuinely happy to dance with you.
Maybe he wasn't disgusted after all.
Maybe he really did love dancing with you.
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Leona Kingscholar !
You couldn't count the number of times this guy stepped on the hem of your train.
It's like your hair being pulled out of your skull, except it's your entire body being pulled back like a slingshot.
It wasn't the most fun experience.
Then, you had to pick a partner to dance with for the nth time this evening.
Your feet hurt already, how much more dancing?
Surprisingly, even though you had little to no interest in dancing, a certain sleepy lion approaches you with a scowl on his face.
"C'mon herbivore, chop chop. Vargas says I gotta dance for extra credit. You look like you could use it too."
This feels and sounds condescending.
He's pretty nice to dance with, doesn't step on the hem of your train anymore, nor does he step on your feet.
On the contrary, he scoops up the longer part of your train whenever you'd have a hard time walking somewhere.
Other times, he straight up carries you like you're a cat.
It's funny, really.
There was this one instance where you mentioned you wanted ice cream.
He set you down on his chair near his party's table, and disappeared. He actually came back with half-eaten ice cream
You love your sleepy lion, even if he seems a little TOO catty at times. :)
You eventually got too tired to dance, and just sat down. Leona napped on your shoulder.
How sickeningly cute.
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Azul Ashengrotto !
Where there is bank to be made, Azul Ashengrotto's the merchant's name.
Seriously, this guy's part of the catering group for the buffet.
Bro did NOT stop making deals at a school function. The grind never stops, respect for that.
You'll probably end up selling your kidney and a lung if you stayed there any longer.
Buuuuut, he does need a dancing partner.
So what say you, if he offered you a slice of mango graham cake and a cup of coconut jelly with a side of gelato in exchange for a dance?
Hell yeah. sorry to the readers that dont have a sweet tooth, have some roasted garlic and onions.
He wasn't too bad honestly, never stepped on your feet once.
You do remember having two gold bracelets on your hands.
He admired one for a quick moment, and it seemed to disappear.
Now, he wouldn't go around stealing stuff from anybody.
No no.
He found it on the floor, while you were too busy dancing.
You want it back?
"Three more dances. Then I'll give you your bracelet back. After all, what's a precious bracelet in exchange for a few dances, no?~"
"You're wasting my time, screw you."
You ended up dancing with him, ten times.
Not thrice.
Ten.
Bro just exploited the jewelry glitch, and wore you out all night.
"Oh, poor Yuu, however will you get back home? If you promise to help out at Mostro Lounge, I'll have you home in a jiffy—"
Thud.
You fell on the ground, snoring.
Oh. You're asleep now. That's convenient.
Don't worry, he'll carry you back home to Ramshackle, free of charge.
After all, dancing with him all night must've tired you out.
He'll just repay the favor.
Surely, that would be the more gentlemanly thing to do.
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Jamil Viper !
Would you believe me if I said this guy was in the corner, squinting his eyes as he looked for someone?
Oh. Dude must be looking for Kalim. Fortunately for him, he's over by the second-year's table, away from him.
Hold on.
Away from him???
But the Octotrio sits at that very table.
The Leech twins and Azul Ashengrotto himself?!
Hell no!
Jamil sprints half a mile across the ballroom in an attempt to sweep Kalim away.
"You shouldn't be sitting with them. They're not exactly the type of people you should be socializing for this type of event."
Not even a few seconds later, Kalim trips on a giant camera stand.
He face-planted into the ground, his nose bleeding from hitting the ground too hard. He still has that stupidly goofy smile on his face.
It honestly gives you cuteness aggression.
He had to be brought to the infirmary.
Poor Jamil, he really doesn't get a break.
It's not until he gets dragged to the dance floor, does he leave Kalim's side.
Let me tell you, once this guy relaxes, DAMN can he dance.
He could be blindfolded and spun around five times, and he'd STILL have the balance and elegance of a ballerina.
Work it girl, show those students who's boss.
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note: "which events were these inspired from?" oh wow i thought youd never ask let me give you a tour of my brain juice i used to write this real quick and indulge myself in an immersive storytelling 🤜💥🧱
For Riddle: when i got called up for my award, there was a boy who also won the same award in the male category. we were instructed to dance together, for the Royalty dance. i thought he was disgusted because i was holding him, so i felt uncomfortable dancing with him. in a video posted by my schoolmate, they tagged me in a video of him looking at the camera and smiling as he waved. he looked half pale and half pink.
For Leona: while dancing for the "waltz" part of the prom, i felt hungry and told my dancing partner i was hungry, but they wouldnt let me back into the buffet because my dress almost took up the entire line for the buffet, so i either had to ask someone to get it for me or have my homeroom teacher get it for me. he eventually sat me on a chair, and ran back with ice cream from the dessert bar. he did eat the whipped cream and cherries, so i made him go back and get another.
For Azul: this one student was working behind the counter at the buffet, and he was jokingly stealing his dance partner's earrings, necklace, and bracelets while she wasnt looking. he said it costs three waltzes for a singular piece of jewelry to be reclaimed, but if she danced to a budots remix, she'd get everything back. she waltzed for more than seven times until she collapsed onto a couch and snored for an hour straight. she did get her jewelry back, and she resumed dancing with our Azul-like classmate.
For Jamil: i saw someone slip and their friend was scolding them for not being careful. he sat down at the table full of people who dont like him, and he got an earful from his friend on why he shouldnt sit there. his friend reminded me of Jamil so much, i had to write him like that.
194 notes · View notes
17020 · 6 days
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☆ SHELL, FLESH, WATER.
Hyoma Chigiri suffers a major football loss. He also lets his partner see his vulnerable side. Warnings: angst, comfort, chigs is sad, nudity (???), bathing together in a sfw way!!!!, established relationship, just vulnerable hyoma letting out his fears. 1.4 k wc. not proofread because i don't have power and i'm lazy.
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The essence of HYOMA CHIGIRI resembled that of an alluring, intriguing fruit, with an exterior so polished that it conceals the rich, soft flesh that lays inside. Like a coconut's hard and refined shell, Hyoma's exterior protected the raw flesh he most desperately wanted to keep to himself, with his flowing, aggressive emotions encapsulated by his public, self-assured persona.
The shell of Hyoma Chigiri consisted of ego, tenacity, and superiority. The self-confidence which the redhead possessed had him feeling ecstatic to tread the path that lead towards becoming the world's best striker. Though, there were very few instances in which Hyoma Chigiri had his shell crumble and be crushed to oblivion, finding his tender flesh be surrounded by defeat and humility.
The first instance took place in his middle school years, with his superiority shattering unexpectedly as his torn ACL left him bedridden for months, being consumed by the fear of returning to the sport he once loved.
The second instance happened when he got substituted during the Blue Lock Eleven's match against the Japan U-20, as his lack of stamina and his overall exhaustion left him benched and catching his breath for the remainder of the match.
The third and most recent instance, was when Manshine City got disqualified during the Champions League quarterfinals. It was a gruesome tie which led to overtime and then penalties, with Hyoma's penalty kick being blocked by Re Al's goalkeeper, thus ending in a crushing 3-2 defeat.
He had succumbed to the pressure, waiting for more than half a minute to receive a new ball, as the previous one had been kicked towards the stands. The screams and curses that came from the stands were not the only pressure he had to bear, as there was a sudden, sharp pain coming from his knee.
His knee was a ticking time bomb, and as he pushed his leg forward to kick, he realized that in that moment, he had become utterly useless.
A soft penalty. A floater, aimed for the Re Al goalkeeper's face. The goalie had no problem catching it. It had practically landed straight into his hands.
Hyoma Chigiri was at a loss for words.
His shell had once again cracked, and he struggled to compose himself in front of millions. It was not like he could have run away, as the pain from his knee left him unable to exit the field by himself. His closest teammates, Nagi and Mikage, had to carry him out, with Mikage asking to be handed his phone to send a message.
It was a no-brainer who he was texting.
Because having stood by Hyoma's side as his partner, meant that who Hyoma needed the most during times as though as these, was you.
You knew Hyoma like the back of your hand, having explored every inch of him in both physicality and mind. Breaking through his outer husk was no easy task at first, as your redheaded boyfriend always scurried to pick up the pieces in an attempt to contain his emotions and keep them to himself. It took time for Hyoma to give in, eventually granting you the permission to wander into his rich inner world of emotions, as well as granting you the role of his anchor, providing the security and comfort he most desperately longed for.
Mikage's text was not necessary for you to recognize that Hyoma would be in need of reassurance. The frustrated expression your boyfriend had on his face as he scanned the crowd in hopes of finding you was enough, with his state of distress affecting his concentration, thus hindering his search.
The second the referee blew the whistle to mark the match's end, you stood up from your seat, beelining towards your car. After sliding in the key and starting the car, you shot Hyoma a message, letting him know that you would pick him up at his designated exit. After receiving a quick 'K' as a response, you prepared yourself for what was to come.
Because the pain was shared, and Hyoma Chigiri would no longer have to bear his troubles on his own.
It pained you. Why wouldn't it? Seeing how your boyfriend let himself into your car, his gaze purposefully avoiding yours as he gulped. He opened his mouth as he reached for the seatbelt, and as he clicked the seatbelt down, no words seemed to come out. He let out a shaky breath, as his eyes glimmered from the tears he refused to let out. Not for now, at least.
"Just drive, please."
The ride was quiet, with neither of you daring to say a word. Knowing Hyoma and how intense he could be, it was best to maintain the peace and avoid any comments that could set him off. It was hard, to intentionally ignore the sniffles that came from your side, your peripheral vision showing the redhead using the back of his hands to wipe the tears flowing down his cheeks.
You had to fight back tears.
Stepping foot into your shared home, you headed to the bathroom. Without hesitation, your boyfriend followed your trail. It had become a routine for the two of you. Whenever one of you was feeling off, the other would run a bubble bath, lighting some scented candles to help the other unwind and relax.
As the water filled up the tub, you opened the cabinet next to the shower, pulling out a candle and a lighter. Carefully, you poured some citrus-scented soap into the running water, swirling the water with your hand to mix it up. You lit the candle and set it to the side, on top of the sink, then drying your hands with the hand towel. Turning off the tap, you turned around to face the door, hearing how your boyfriend slipped off from his uniform, and softly stepped into the tub. You reached for the doorknob.
"I'll be in the living room if you need me, okay?"
Hyoma hummed in disapproval. Curious, you turned to face him, as he patted the edge of the tub. You tilted your head to the side in confusion, as he plopped his hand back inside the water.
"Don't leave" he pleaded, "join."
You offered him a wistful smile as you raised your index finger and swayed it, motioning for him to turn his head. You stripped your clothes from your body, letting them fall onto the bathroom floor. You cautiously stepped inside the tub, taking a seat facing your boyfriend.
His knees were drawn up to his chest, with his arms wrapped around them. His gaze was fixated on the light, pinkish scar that decorated his knee, almost as if he looked at it with disgust.
"I missed the penalty shot."
"It's okay, Hyo. There'll be other chances."
"We lost the match because I failed."
"It's not your fault, Hyoma. There's always next season, baby."
"My fucking knee is holding me back."
A sob escaped his lips, and his hands went up to cover his face. Hyoma was disheartened, completely consumed by the thought of the loss being his fault. It felt like a setback, as he now had to rest due to his injured knee. His dispirited cries echoed in the bathroom walls, with Hyoma trying to spill his guts in between sobs.
He explained every thought, and every feeling. How the pain had held him back, making him fail his floater kick. How he saw the goalkeeper talk to his substitute who had played against him before, and how he could have potentially warned him about Hyoma's floater kicks being aimed at the center. More importantly, he expressed his sorrow, with his doubts of ever playing in next season's Champions League plaguing his mind.
He leaned forward, engulfing you in his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around his torso, using the tip of your index finger to draw circles on his back.
"Sorry I disappointed you" he apologized.
You shook your head in response, pulling him closer to you. "You will never disappoint me because you lose a match, Hyo. You are my greatest pride, and I wouldn't trade you for the world. I will forever be proud of you."
You felt his lips curve into a small smile.
"I love you, Yn."
"I love you too, Hyoma."
He detached himself, with his eyes meeting your own and his hands cupping both your cheeks. Guiding you towards him, Hyoma pulled you in for a sweet, heartfelt kiss.
"Don't ever leave me. Please."
"I won't."
"Promise?"
"Pinky."
"Even if I didn't win the Champions."
"Baby, the Champions is a freaking sham anyway. I'll be by your side until i breathe my last breath."
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note. if real madrid wins the champions this year i will make something similar for sae except it will be happy. as a city stan, i cried. bernardo silva i am watching you. this is for my city gyals and pals.
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110 notes · View notes
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I Believe You, But Tell Me Again
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(x)
Summary: Y/N is wondering if Jensen still sees her as he used to.
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Lots of fluffy smut. Sexy af Jensen. Rockstar!Jensen. Definitely a warning. Unprotected PinV sex. Oral (f receiving), Brief fingering, some slightly insecure thoughts, established relationship. Fluff.
Pairings: Jensen x Reader
Word Count: 3,314
A/N: This fic is a request by @lacilou .
I'm not sure if you're taking requests, but I can't get this out of my head. Jensen, in the photo you're using for Off and On Again. Where he's super hot, and he knows it. Kinda cocky but totally in love with the reader (established relationship - married, long-time girlfriend??) And reader doesn't understand why he's so into her, but she KNOWS it even though Jensen has to remind her with "Feel this? It's all for you, "while he's holding the reader's hand over his bulge. If you could throw in "this what you want?" while he's slowly stroking himself as he walks towards the reader, lust in his eyes.
I hope you enjoy it sweetie, and everyone else too.
The dividers below were created by @talesmaniac89
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The lights were bright, slightly blinding, as Y/N sat in front of the two cameras aimed at her. There were two cameras so they could decide later on which side was her better side. Or possibly her worse side, depending on the tone of the interview. 
Y/N squinted at the primped and stylish woman sitting across from her getting her makeup touched up. She wondered, would this interview be a friendly one? An interview to say, “Look everyone! Aren’t the Ackles great?” Or would it be one of those interviews that had an edge of nasty hovering just beneath the smile of the interviewer. 
She watched this interviewer, Shauna, pull away from her makeup artist, scowling. “It’s fine, Lisa. Just leave it alone.” 
Uh oh.
The interview started off friendly enough, touching on the things most journalists talked to her about - Jensen’s incredible skyrocketing success, his status as a rockstar icon, what a talent he was. As Jensen’s biggest fan, Y/N always enjoyed those kinds of questions. She couldn’t get enough of bragging about her ridiculously talented husband. 
But then the mood of the interview shifted and Shauna started asking much more pointed questions. 
“Now, Y/N, you and Jensen have been married over a decade now, right?” Y/N nodded. “Is there a secret to your success?” Shauna was smiling, but Y/N could see that her gray eyes were calculating.
It was a question she’d been asked a lot in the last couple of years as their ten year anniversary came and went. People seemed very interested in the fact that their marriage had lasted so much longer than had been anticipated. When Jensen had started dating her, just a nobody from nowhere, everyone had predicted it wouldn’t last. 
People on social media and angry people with podcasts all had an opinion on their relationship.
-- She’s not cut out for the limelight.
-- It’s way too hard for someone like her.
-- She’s not used to the media. She’s gonna break under the pressure.
-- He’s a rockstar who could literally get any girl he wanted. So, what’s up with him picking her?
-- It won’t last. These showbiz marriages never do.
But ten years on, now people were wondering how they actually made it to a decade. “What’s the secret?” They all wanted to know.
“There’s really no secret, Shauna.” Y/N said with a smile. “When two people are madly in love with each other, when they respect each other and work together as partners, staying together becomes much easier.” 
It was a variation on the same answer she’d given dozens of times. It happened to be true, but Y/N was still tired of trying to find new ways to explain to people that they got married because they loved each other, and they stayed married because the alternative was unthinkable for either of them.
Shauna smiled a sharp smile. “And in all those years, you’ve never been worried about the rock and roll lifestyle…leading Jensen astray?”
Y/N kept smiling because she couldn’t falter and let the reporter know she’d scored a hit. They weren’t usually that pointed with the infidelity question. Usually they skirted around it, saying things like, “Does it ever get hard when he’s on the road?” or “You must miss him when he’s touring. How do you keep tabs on him?” 
Y/N’s personal favorite version of this question came from a middle-aged woman reporter with lipstick on her teeth. “Have you ever just shown up to surprise him, or tried to catch him being naughty?” It was said with a cheeky grin as though they were just besties chatting, but Y/N had wanted to snatch the woman bald.
Shauna’s version of the question was the closest anyone had ever come to asking her outright, “Do you worry about your husband cheating on you?”
Y/N kept smiling and shook her head. “No, never. If you knew Jensen, you wouldn’t wonder about it either. He’s the most loyal man I’ve ever known, and the most honorable. I know beyond a doubt that he doesn’t take our vows lightly, and that he would never, ever hurt me like that.”
Shauna seemed slightly taken aback by Y/N’s adamant, genuine answer, clearly expecting some anger or some kind of dramatic reaction from her. When she didn't get it, the reporter just smiled again.
“So sweet.” Was her response, acid dripping from her words.
***
The day of interviews had taken quite a bit out of Y/N, especially the last one, and she was tired as she wandered out to the limousine that was waiting to take her and Jensen back to their hotel, whenever he was done with his part of the press junket.
The limo driver opened the door for her and smiled. “Fatima says Mr. Ackles is almost finished and will be out in about ten minutes. Do you want to wait for him? Or should I take you and send another car for him?”
Y/N smiled back and shook her head. “No, let’s wait for him.”
“Okay, great.” The driver said as he closed the door behind her. 
In less than ten minutes, she saw Jensen push out of the double doors, and amble towards the car. He wore black jeans that clung to his thick thighs, and a gray t-shirt covered by a black, long-sleeved denim shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the veins and corded muscles in his forearms - muscles he’d gained by long hours spent playing the guitar.
As he got closer to the car, she watched him push a hand through his long hair, sweeping it off his forehead, and she sighed deeply. Good God, he was so stunningly sexy. 
Even when he was just walking, he moved with the same seductive grace he used like a siren song onstage. No matter how many times Y/N watched him in concert, she never got used to that kind of magnetic, cocky seductiveness that poured out of him when he was singing. He knew he drove people crazy. He knew it, and it just made him smile.
He was smiling now as he climbed into the car. “Hey beautiful.”
Y/N smiled tiredly at him, feeling her heart warm at his usual greeting. When he settled into the seat, he reached over and pulled her into his lap.
She squealed lightly as he lifted her, and then chuckled. “You know there are seatbelts we’re supposed to be wearing.”
Jensen shrugged and squeezed her tighter against him. “Nah! I gotcha.” 
Y/N laughed again. “Oh, okay then.” She said, snuggling closer to him. The interview had knocked her off kilter a bit, and it felt especially good to have Jensen’s arms wrapped around her. 
She tucked her head under his chin, and he ran his big hand up and down her arm. “Hey,” he said with concern lacing his voice, “everything okay?”
Y/N nodded. “Yeah, just a long day sitting in the same room, being asked basically the same questions.” She shrugged. “I just wanna get home. Or, well, hotel.”
Jensen accepted her answer, kissing her forehead and then her lips. “Me too.” 
They ordered in their dinner, neither of them keen to face more crowds and questions, and spent the evening watching some trashy reality TV before calling it a night a bit earlier than usual.
Y/N went into the bathroom to get ready. She brushed her teeth and took off her makeup, and as she stood in front of the mirror she looked at her face closely. 
There were some lines there that hadn’t been there when she first met Jensen. She knew there was a gray hair or two hiding amongst the rest that also hadn't existed back then. 
She pulled her silk nightgown tight against her body and could see where she was rounder than she had been when she was younger. Her muscle tone wasn’t as good. 
I should hit the gym more, she thought.
She pinched one of her love handles and pulled at her skin, wondering what Jensen really thought about all these changes. She knew he loved her, knew that he’d always found her attractive. But how was that holding up these days? Did he still feel the same kind of heat for her? Did he still want her as desperately as she still wanted him?
She jumped slightly as Jensen popped up in the mirror behind her to wrap his arms around her waist, and nuzzle his face in the crook of her neck. He wore his pajama bottoms and nothing more. She looked at his biceps flexing around her as he squeezed her back against him, and his round, muscled shoulders, broad and strong, and she sighed. He was still so unbelievably perfect.
She lightly tapped his forearm where it rested just below her breasts. “You scared me.” She said, her voice accusatory.
He chuckled. “Sorry, I thought you heard me.” He caught her eye in the mirror. “But you seemed to be lost in thought.”
He moved his lips to her temple. “What thoughts are swirling around in that beautiful mind of yours? Hmm?” He murmured. 
She shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing.” 
Jensen’s face in the mirror wore a disbelieving look. “Don’t believe that for a second.” He pulled back slightly, and turned her in his arms so she was facing him. A small line of worry was creased between his brows.
“You’ve been quiet all evening; something is obviously on your mind.”
Y/N shrugged again and looked down at their bare feet. “Just tired.”
Jensen put his knuckle under her chin and made her look at him. “Y/N. Tell me.”
Y/N was caught completely by surprise as her eyes welled up with tears. She didn’t know where these doubts were coming from or why she was feeling this way. Maybe it was just one too many snide questions.
Jensen’s face crumpled as he saw her tears. He cupped her cheeks and brushed them away as they spilled over her lashes. “Baby.” His voice was worried and confused. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong? What happened?”
Y/N shook her head. “No, nothing happened. Really. It was just this reporter.” 
Jensen waited for her to continue, but his worried expression darkened slightly in anger.
Y/N bit her lip and debated what to tell him, how to explain the feelings she barely understood herself. Finally she just went for the honesty they’d always had with each other; they’d never been afraid to ask for what they needed from one another, and what she needed was reassurance.
“Do you still want me? I mean, the same as you used to.”
Jensen seemed completely taken aback by the question. Clearly that hadn’t been where he expected this conversation to go. He shook his head.
“Why would you even ask that? Of course I do.”
Y/N frowned. “Don’t just tell me what I want to hear. Please, tell me the truth. Are there things about me you’d change if you could?”
Jensen’s expression turned thunderous and he dropped his hands from her cheeks to grip her upper arms. “Y/N.” He said firmly. “What the hell are you talking about? Where is this coming from? Of course I don’t want you to change.”
“I don’t mean my personality, or whatever.” Y/N explained wiping her tears away with both hands. “But my face or my body, the way I look. I know it isn’t the same as when we first met.”
Jensen shook his head, his voice incredulous. “Well no, you don’t look exactly the same as the day I met you over a decade ago.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “But you know, I’m pretty sure I don’t either.”
Y/N felt her skin flush. “But you’ve just gotten hotter.” She frowned. “Guys do that.” 
She opened her mouth to say something more, but Jensen slammed his mouth down on hers, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and invading her completely. She let out a little whimper as his hands let go of her arms to grab her ass and press her hard against him. He kissed her long, deep, swallowing every soft moan.
When he pulled back his voice was husky with want. “Baby, I don’t know where these questions are coming from, but I know the answers.” 
He grabbed Y/N’s hand and placed it on his hard cock where it tented his pajama bottoms, obviously not restrained by underwear. She bit her lip as he closed his eyes and groaned when she wrapped her fingers around him. 
“Feel this? It’s all for you, all because of you. Fuck, Y/N do you see what you do to me? Still? Always?” He pushed aside some of the bottles and jars that littered the countertop and lifted her onto it easily. His hand slipped between her legs and he groaned at her bare, wet pussy. “Believe me when I tell you that I want you. Every day. All the time. Years don’t change that.”
He shook his head. “In fact they just make things better cause now I know what happens if I do this.” 
He dipped his head, sucking her satin clad nipple into his mouth, while his thick middle finger slid inside her body at the same time. A strangled cry left her lips and she thumped her head back against the mirror.
She felt him smile against her. “Exactly.”
He took his hand out of her to tug on her nightgown. She shifted slightly so he could pull the silky material over her head as he continued.  “And yet, your body’s always a revelation to me. It never stops fascinating me.” His eyes followed the path of his fingers as he trailed them down her arms and then over the soft swell of her breasts. Gooseflesh erupted on her skin and her nipples puckered.
He circled his forefinger around the tight little bud, before dipping his head once again to flick the tip of his tongue against it. 
Y/N moaned deeply and wrapped her fingers up in his honey brown locks. “Jensen.” She gasped as he sucked her breast into his mouth and drew on it deeply, causing her cunt to clench and quiver.
He pulled her forward, to the edge of the counter, and then dropped to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her wide open so he could reach his tongue up to tease her hole. Y/N plunged her hand back into his hair and tugged on it before pushing his head harder against her dripping pussy. 
“God, fuck Jensen, yes.” She rambled.
He hummed against her folds before nibbling at her clit, making her knees try to lock around his ears. But his superior strength kept her legs spread wide so he could feast. He breathed hot against her, alternating between flicking his tongue against her clit and sucking it between his plump, luscious lips.
It wasn’t long before Y/N was bucking against his mouth as she rode out her climax while he lapped up her juices. She panted desperately and tugged on his hair again, begging him. “Please Jensen, fuck me. I need to feel you, need you inside me so badly.”
Jensen stood and scooped her off the counter, walking back into their bedroom. He laid her out on the bed, making sure her head was propped up on the pillows, before stepping away from her. He moved far enough back so that she had an unencumbered view as he slowly lowered his pajama bottoms. 
His cock sprang free to lean, hard and dripping, against his stomach. Y/N felt her mouth go dry and a keening moan erupted from her throat as he gripped himself in his fist, pumping slowly.
He walked towards her one slow step at a time. His voice was a growl. “Is this what you want?” She nodded, biting her lips and trying desperately not to come again, just from watching him.
“Tell me you want it.” Jensen ordered.
Y/N nodded again, almost frantically. “Yes, fuck. I want it. I want your cock.” She reached for him as he stood barely a foot from the side of the bed. “I need it. I need you.”
Jensen climbed onto the bed on his knees, grabbing up her wrists with both hands and pressing them into the pillows on either side of her head. He stared into her eyes as he spoke. 
“And I need you too, Y/N. I need you desperately, obsessively. I need you every waking minute. I need your love and your kindness. I need your good soul and beautiful heart.” He entered her in one hard thrust and she cried out. “But I also need your soft body. I need to sink into you. I need to feel you move against me. I need to hear you say my name like a moan. I need to feel you clench tight around me.”
He began moving slowly, sliding in and out of her with silky, unhurried movements. “I will always love you. I will always want you. And I will never need you any less than completely.” He cupped her cheek with one hand. “Do you understand me?”
Y/N nodded and gasped as his cock slid over her sweet spot. “Yes. Yes.” Was all she could manage to chant. But it satisfied him and he began to move faster.
He switched positions slightly so he could lift her hips off the bed, hooking her knees over his forearms. He began to slam into her, hitting that same sweet spot over and over until Y/N was screaming out her overwhelming pleasure and falling into euphoria. 
Jensen continued to jackhammer into her, grunting harshly with each thrust. He pounded into her pussy over and over until she was once again on the precipice of bliss. As his hips faltered, he dropped one of her legs so he could slide his thumb between their bodies and swirl it against her clit. She screamed again and fell for the third time, clenching around him and pulling his climax out of him, along with her own.
The familiar aftermath of damp skin pressed together and lungs starved for oxygen, brought Y/N a kind of all encompassing satisfaction and peace. When Jensen finally rolled off of her, she rolled with him, so she could slot herself up against his side, wrapping one arm over his ribs and laying her head on his chest as he ran his fingers teasingly up and down her back making her shiver.
They were both quiet for a few minutes before Jensen broke the silence. “Y/N tell me the truth.” He said, and Y/N could hear the protectiveness and anger on her behalf permeating his tone. “Did someone say something or do something to hurt you today?”
But she just shook her head. “No, it wasn’t any different than a million other interviews really.” She shrugged. “Something about it just hit me, I guess.”
She raised up on her elbow, chin in her hand, to look at him. “But if you tell me you love me as truly, madly, deeply as you did the day we met, then I believe you.”
Jensen frowned slightly. “Are you comparing me to a Savage Garden song?”
Y/N giggled, but ignored the question, kissing him softly before laying her head back down on his chest. She smiled against his skin as she spoke. 
“I believe you, but tell me again.”
Jensen’s breath ruffled her hair as he sighed contentedly. “I will love you, and desperately want to devour you, every single day of my life - for the rest of my life.”
Y/N nodded, and her voice was full of confidence as she snuggled closer. “Thought so.”
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Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma
Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @waywardcheshire
Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone
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peachsayshi · 10 months
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➳ (minors, ageless, blank blogs dni) 
okay, okay, but imagine having a crush on your big brother/sister’s best friend, suguru.
geto knows all about it, by the way, because you make it impossible to prove to him otherwise with the way you act so shy and coy around him, and it really just makes him grow to have the softest little heart for you, and only you.
you were always close enough to admire him but he lures you away before you even get a chance to crack the surface of his beautiful shell. for five years you watch with envious eyes as he navigates his romances, basking other girls with attention that you only ever dreamed of. 
at twenty-two, you didn’t waste away your precious focus with any other guys (not yet anyway) - you were too busy with your university studies to even consider the possibility of a relationship...but an opportunity presented itself suddenly, a chance of something new when a friend lightly brushed their lips over your own in the middle of a study session. 
your face is hot by the time you arrive at suguru’s apartment. you’ve remained connected since your first meeting, but you only started getting closer to him in the last year. 
you know that you’re always welcome, but he’s still surprised to see you when he opens his front door. 
he invites you in, let’s you lounge on his comfortable sofa while he makes you tea. meanwhile, you soak in his bachelor pad, taking in the details of the balance between his modern and traditional taste. by the time he sits next to you, you feel so very small, forgetting that he’s now grown into the man that he is. 
broad shoulders, strong physique, the shine of wisdom and age brightening his eyes, and yet, he’s still somehow remained so fucking breathtaking...
...still makes your heart trip over itself with just a simple smile. 
it takes you a while to tell him what happened, but the words pour out of you like you’re an open faucet. you don’t even realize that he’s inched himself closer to you, concern and curiosity tugging at his expression as he hears you ramble on about how you turned your face away so your friend could just aim for your cheek, about your pathetic apology as you quickly excused yourself out the door, and about your frustrations on not knowing how to kiss. 
“it’ll happen for you when the time is right, sweetheart,” suguru consoles with a serious kindness. 
“but what if I'm ready now?” 
he laughs under his breath, your innocent question only brightening his wolfish grin. “then you’ve just got to wait for the right person...” 
you can’t help but lean into him, lifting your gaze so your faces were a few inches apart.
it takes all the courage in the world for you to ask, the fear of rejection a reflection in your anxious eyes. 
“can...can you show me, sugu?” 
geto’s expression falls, indicating that he’s clearly caught off guard, but what sends a tremor down your spine is how his eyes immediately shift to your lips. 
there’s a visible tension tugging his shoulders, and his jaw twitches when you confess that you’ve seen him kiss other girls before. he can’t believe that you’ve caught him during such intimate moments with his previous partners, but the blush that highlights the tips of his cheekbones happens when you admit that you’re just really curious to know what it would feel like. 
“I’m safe with you,” you point out, “If I’m being honest, just can’t imagine sharing this with anyone else...nobody else knows me like you do” 
the more you talk, the more his eyes deepen with a desire that’s never made itself known, a desire that forces your ribs to squeeze tightly around your lungs. 
everything around you melts like a surreal painting when he complies with your request; you can’t even think when you feel him cradle your cheek in his palm while glides his nose down the bridge of yours. you swallow hard feeling his thumb softly stroke your neck, the fan of his warm breath on your skin making your lashes flutter close as he traces over your pretty, pouted lips. 
“kissing you will be different,” he murmurs, his captivating words entrancing you in a spell. “because I’ve never kissed anybody like the way I’m about to right now...” 
just as you part your lips to question the meaning behind his declaration, he presses his mouth onto yours and tenderly ignites your soul. 
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chronicbitchsyndrome · 11 months
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the thing is, in my crippled opinion, i think we're missing something when pointing at art that's inaccessible in various (including dangerous) ways and saying there's no reason for it to exist. in that like, yes, nobody needs to play a game that needs such intense motor coordination skills that even fully abled players take years of practice to finish the full game, and nobody needs to look at a webcomic where the colors are so saturated they leave the site with a massive headache, and nobody needs to risk death via latent-seizure-disorder by watching a movie with intense red-blue color flashes.
but some people like those experiences, for whatever reasons. some people enjoy doing things that are uncomfortable, risky, and even harmful, like getting choked by their sex partners, or belay-free mountain climbing, or going to a concert with a ton of flashing lights. so it's incredibly low-hanging fruit for someone to be like "but there is a reason. me. the target demographic. i am the reason this art exists" and like. that's real!
which is why i tend to aim my cripple bitching more towards accurate content warnings and diversity of media. i'm not trying to remove all video games that require extremely fast reflexes from existence; i just think video games that are accessible to people with the worst hand-eye coordination known to man should also be able to get made with equal amounts of funding and structural support (and also i really want IP law to shift enough that mods of existing games that change the skills necessary + entirely retooled spinoff games that focus on entirely different skillsets can exist without constantly being under attack from IP holders like nintendo). i'm not trying to take away the spiderverse movies as they currently exist; i just want all of their advertising plus the movie itself to contain warnings for flashing lights and other seizure triggers.
and this isn't even a compromise, to me; i don't see any reason things that are unpleasant and dangerous to me shouldn't exist for other people. but like, i am extremely kinkbrained and that's probably where this mindset comes from. it's very hard to be like "something that could possibly kill me shouldn't exist even if other people like doing it with fully informed consent!" when i just listened with great interest the other night to my discussion group partner describing an actual crucifixion scene she attended.
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bella-rose29 · 4 months
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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - Part 1
Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fake dating, set at Christmas (because I'm feeling festive)
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: swearing, lockwood is an arse, so is the reader, it's enemies to lovers what were you expecting really, Norrie is alive for the plot, I am British so if you're confused about words then that's why, mentions of extended family members being meanies, I think that's it?
Tag list is at the bottom (it's getting too long to put up here now), and as always if you would like to be added to/removed from it, then ask here or send me a note! <3
series master list
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"Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"
It was safe to say that Y/n L/n was not having a good morning.
George had been watching her over the top of his paper while she paced the living room on the phone, his eyebrows changing between furrowing and raising as he tried to figure out what was happening with only one half of the conversation.
"Are you... alright?" He wasn't the best at this sort of thing, but when it came to his friends he tried to put some sort of effort in to show that he cared about them. Y/n huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose and looking like she was about to break into tears. If that happened George would have to go and get Lucy, because he definitely had no idea how to deal with Y/n when she cried. Normally he went and made her tea and plated up some biscuits, and she always accepted with a grateful smile and a lot of sniffles and let him leave again when he stood awkwardly near her, shuffling his feet on the spot.
He got the feeling that wouldn't be happening now, and he'd be held hostage instead.
"It's my mum. You know I've got this family Christmas thing coming up, right?" She paused while George nodded, taking her hand away from her face to see his reaction, then continuing on as she gestured wildly. "She seems to think I have a boyfriend, which I absolutely do not-"
"What, really?" George exclaimed sarcastically, pressing his hands over his heart in mock surprise. Y/n glared at him, looking incredibly non-threatening in her very jolly Christmas jumper. He resisted the urge to snort, knowing full-well that his friend spent most of the time complaining whenever relationships were the topic of conversation, since she couldn't understand why she was still single.
"As I was saying," another glare was aimed his way, "Mum thinks I have a boyfriend, and my aunt overheard her on the phone just now talking about my non-existent boyfriend, and it was Aunt Linda-"
"The one who gossips to everybody?"
"Yes!" Y/n jabbed a finger in George's direction, expression wild and fierce. "The one who gossips to everybody! So by now I think my entire fucking extended family and every single family friend knows that I have a boyfriend, who does not exist, and thinks that he's coming to our family Christmas in the middle of fucking nowhere!"
"I thought it was your childhood town?"
"Which is in the middle of nowhere! Genuinely nothing but fields and forests and the general countryside for miles and miles. Oh, and to top that all off, my cousin will be there-"
"The bitchy one who makes you feel like shit who you also thought wasn't coming this year?"
"Yes. Her. And Linda is her mum so Steph'll definitely know." Y/n finished, throwing herself into the sofa with a groan, turning over slightly, and screaming into a pillow.
George was about to stand up and head to the kitchen to put the kettle on (Y/n normally screamed not long before crying full-out) when Lockwood poked his head through the door, frowning at the sight before him.
"Everything alright?"
"Y/n's having a crisis. Fancy a cuppa, Lockwood?" George properly got up now, glad that another member of the household was here to deal with the situation. Lockwood nodded, then frowned again when he realised that George was escaping and shutting the two of them in a room together. Lockwood absolutely could have left anytime he wanted, but it was likely that Y/n thought he'd volunteered for the role of caretaker and couldn't leave without looking like an arse, or starting yet another argument between the two of them.
George breathed a sigh of relief, then made for the kitchen. He'd need a cup of tea in a minute when Y/n realised who was there to comfort her.
~~~
"The fuck do you want, Lockwood?"
"I- uh... what's... what's the problem?" His voice sounded pained, like he really didn't want to be in the room, and Y/n rolled her eyes.
"If you don't care, then leave," she said, attempting to hide the wobble in her voice at the thought of having to find someone to drag to her family gathering for three days, where she would be interrogated and prodded and poked and watched every second of every minute of every day, and criticised for every tiny thing she did. She was dreading it, really, but at least the third day would just be her immediate family and her non-existent boyfriend. The first two days would be filled with inquisitive relations that hadn't seen her since last year, wondering about her job and why she hadn't pursued something more stable, or asking about her love life (that was completely uneventful) and why she wasn't thinking about settling down.
Lockwood's frustrated sigh brought her out of her thoughts, and she pulled her face out of the pillow enough to see him clenching his jaw as he studied the wall with a lot more interest than it deserved. "Fine. Vent if you need to. Can I help at all, or are you going to get on my nerves until you leave?"
"Do you always have to be such a dick, Lockwood? Or are you like that because you're compensating?"
"Fuck off."
"Lovely comeback," she snapped, turning to lie on her back, staring up at the ceiling instead of at her boss' face. If she looked at him any longer she might bore holes through his head with the intensity of her glare. Neither of them said anything for a minute, the only sounds the clock ticking away in the corner, counting down to her imminent doom, and George in the kitchen making tea. "My family thing, this weekend. Everyone thinks I'm bringing my boyfriend."
"You don't have a boyfriend though."
"I know that, Lockwood. But my family think that I do have one, and now I have less than forty-eight hours to find one." She heard him snort, and squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes that it would block out his next words.
"Good luck with that. Maybe Kipps'll volunteer? He needs the free food."
"Can't you have just the tiniest bit of sympathy for me?" She pushed up, moving to sit and direct her frustration at Lockwood. "I am in a near-impossible situation here and you're being insufferable right now!"
"Maybe you should take Lockwood," George said, and Y/n jumped at the sound of his voice in the living room.
"Where the fuck did you come from?" she asked, already eyeing up the plate of biscuits on the tea tray. "Wait," Y/n paused as she properly registered George's words. "Take him?" Lockwood looked just as horrified by the idea of it, shaking his head frantically.
"Yeah. Oh, here's your tea, Y/n/n."
"What about you, George?! Surely you could come along and help me out instead?!"
"I thought I told you already, I'm going to my own family's house for Christmas. Lucy's going to stay with Norrie, and Holly's spending the holidays with her girlfriend. Lockwood's alone, in this big old house, and you've got limited time and also limited options." Y/n was annoyed at how right George was, but she wasn't giving in so easily. Not when giving in meant spending three days with the one person she despised more than anything in the world.
"Fine, if you have no other options by the time you need to leave, I'll go with you. But I will not enjoy a second of it if I do," Lockwood finally ground out, and Y/n had to fight back a look of surprise at his words.
"You- what?"
"It saves being in this house alone over Christmas. I've done that one too many times now, and at least your family will be a distraction. And," he added, "a great way to see all your baby photos." His smile was wolfish, and Y/n wondered how anybody ever found it charming.
"Alright. But I'm finding someone else, so it looks like you'll have to miss out on this one I'm afraid." Her smile was simpering, sugar sweet and sickly with how faked it was.
George looked between the two of them, then sank back into his armchair with his tea. "That's that sorted then."
~~~
It was absolutely not sorted.
Y/n was panicking. A lot. Apparently nobody fancied spending Christmas with some random agent for three days in the literal middle of fucking nowhere with her entire extended family, which was incredibly inconvenient for Y/n.
She now was supposed to be leaving in roughly two hours, and was frantically shoving the last few things in her suitcase while phoning anybody that she could attempt to pass off as her fake boyfriend.
Anybody that meant she didn't have to take Lockwood.
Perhaps if he wasn't such an asshole all the time, she'd be less reluctant, but since the first day they'd met he'd been rude to her.
It had been after a job, three years ago back when she was a solo agent taking any work that meant she could keep a roof over her head and food in her belly. Her night had been long, making her tired and weary with how much her bones ached, and she was hardly looking where she was going when she turned the corner onto her street, making her bump into a tall figure. Her first thought when the two of them stumbled away from each other was how gorgeous this boy was, and her second was how utterly awful his personality was. She had apologised before she could see his face, already muttering excuses and explaining her lack of coordination, but within seconds he was opening his mouth and talking, telling her that she should have been more alert and "could she not stand on his shoes, they're new" and she'd taken a proper look at him and decided that yes, he was pretty, but he was also not particularly nice.
Then a few months later she'd seen an ad in the paper for a small agency that had needed a new agent, preferably with strong Touch, and had chosen to go along for an interview. What she hadn't expected was the boy from that night to be the one interviewing her, and evidently he was just as shocked to see her, his expression quickly settling into a frown.
"No thank you. We don't want careless agents like you, thank you very much." His words had stung more than she cared to admit, making the backs of her eyes prick and her throat close up with emotion. She'd almost turned tail and walked out the door (something she very rarely did), but a girl dressed mostly in blue and with an excited smile on her face came in to the room, asking if this was their new recruit. Apparently the boy couldn't say no to her, or the other girl that appeared a few moments later with her clothes all neat and ironed, or indeed the other boy with glasses and curly hair who had ketchup stains on his t-shirt. Within minutes of the three of them arriving in the room, Y/n had a job at the company as an agent with a strong sense of Touch, and was being given a biscuit and a cup of tea.
She had quickly learned that the first girl was Lucy, the second was Holly, and the curly-haired boy was George, and then Lockwood had introduced himself as the head of the company.
"Don't you have... supervisors?" she had asked, confused as to just how this company worked exactly.
"No." His smile had been tight, and he had left the room right after, pushing past his colleagues and heading up the stairs. Lucy had been quick to fill in the rest, explaining all the answers to every question that Y/n had, with Holly and George chipping in when she forgot something.
Lockwood had continued his behaviour from that day ever since, despite Y/n's best efforts to get him to like her, and eventually after a few months of attempted friendship offers, she gave up and leaned into the whole hating each other schtick that was apparently happening.
So no, she did not want to have to bring Lockwood to her family gathering for three days and pretend to love him. She didn't want to do that at all.
Unfortunately, it was starting to look as though she wouldn't have a choice.
~~~
"Well? Please? Come on, I never beg for anything from you."
"I know, and I'm actually rather enjoying it."
"Prick," Y/n muttered, frowning at Lockwood. "You said that you'd do it if you had to. Well, you have to. So pack your bags and let's go; the train's in an hour."
"Fine. But I am not happy about this." He made his way back inside his bedroom, leaving Y/n stood outside the door (she refused to cross the threshold of this one particular room).
"Oh, because I am personally so ecstatic about this situation!" Her voice was thick with sarcasm, and Lockwood paused in his packing to glare at her.
"It's not my fault you couldn't find somebody to pretend to date you for three days."
"No, but I'll blame you anyway."
"Charming."
"Hmm. Hurry up."
"We've got ages, stop fretting like a mother."
"The train leaves in an hour, and it takes ten minutes to get there. Then you have to factor in maybe five to ten minutes of traffic, and difficulties getting through the gates at the station which is what, another five minutes? And then if there are any problems with the actual trains then we want to be early just in case so that a plan can be made to get a different one, and also if there aren't any problems then we at least want to be there early so that we can get on first and get a table. So no, we haven't got ages, we've got minutes before we need to go. Hurry up."
Lockwood had been staring at her in disbelief while she talked, his jaw slack and his eyes wide, but when Y/n glared at him again he went back to packing. "You really think that much about travelling?"
"There is so much that can go wrong with trains, so yes."
"Fine," Lockwood huffed, coming out of his room to cross into the bathroom, grabbing his wash bag out of the cupboard and shoving a toothbrush and flannel in. "Where's the toothpaste?"
"I've got some, so we can share. Trust me, you don't want to share with George. He's like a dragon with the way he hoards his toothpaste."
Lockwood gave her a weird look as he zipped up the bag, heading back into his room to finish stuffing items into the large bag he was taking with him as luggage. Y/n was sure he'd repurposed a kit bag for this, but if it meant she wasn't having to explain to everyone why she had failed at bringing a boyfriend that didn't even exist then she supposed she could forget about where the kit was currently being stored.
"Ok, I think that's everything," he said, running a hand through his hair as he stood up, yanking the bag up and over his shoulder. He was still in a suit, which Y/n thought was ridiculous since they didn't even have any meetings today other than the one with her family, and when they made it to the bottom of the stairs he grabbed his jacket and signature long coat. Y/n was already in her own winter coat, thick scarf wrapped around her neck and gloves poking out her pocket, her boots echoing throughout the building. They were the only two left now, since the other three had already left for their own Christmas celebrations, so Lockwood had to spend an extra minute finding the keys to lock up, and then another minute trying to put them back in his pocket. In the end, Y/n was so frustrated with how long he was taking that she snatched the keys from his hand and shoved them in the chest pocket on the inside of his coat, turning and dragging her small suitcase behind her into the pre-booked taxi.
"Sorry, he takes a while to do things every now and then. He's immensely stupid," she said, smiling at the driver as the man put her suitcase in the boot of his taxi. He looked concerned, frowning up at Lockwood where he was coming down the stairs, then nodded slightly, his expression morphing into confusion.
The drive itself was fast, and there were no problems at the station, but Y/n still couldn't help but feel that something would go wrong on their journey to her parents' house.
"The only thing that's wrong-"
"Don't say that, you bastard!"
"-is me being here."
"Oh. Well, that's true."
"Why couldn't you have just gone on your own?"
"You'll see when you meet everyone. Are you... will you be alright? I mean, it's literally everybody still alive in my family along with all of our close friends, which is near on fifty people, all in my parents' house."
"What are you trying to say?" Lockwood's expression was stony, and a coldness had come into his eyes that Y/n had only ever seen back when she was trying to be his friend and asked about his family. She had since learned that they had died when he was young, and had steered well clear of the subject afterwards.
"I just... it's a lot for me, and I do this every year. I can't imagine how awful this'll be for someone who's..." she trailed off, trying to find the right words.
"Who's family is dead?" Lockwood asked, more forcefully than he needed to.
"No, I didn't mean-" Y/n said.
"Sure," he cut her off, tone sharp and as bitter as the wind that was whipping around them. She tried to speak again, but he scoffed and turned away before she could explain what she had really meant by her words. Lockwood didn't seem to be relenting anytime soon, instead choosing to stare out at the tracks with a clenched jaw. The conversation died, and they didn't say a word until the train pulled up to the platform and they were attempting to find a good seat.
When they were finally sat down, bags secure and able to relax a little, Y/n sighed softly at Lockwood's still tense figure. He wasn't looking at her, which she supposed was a good thing because generally when he looked at her he was coming up with something rude to say. But if they wanted this to work, they needed to be talking.
And apparently, Y/n had pissed off her fake boyfriend.
Ugh, she thought. This is going to be a fucking shitshow.
part 2
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Tag list (hopefully this is everyone): @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locknco, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife
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