#just putting more tags so that you’d have to click read more to see all the tags.

[dollfacefantasy]

You Make Me Cry Every Time

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon's going through a rough patch, and he takes it out on you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, angst, hurt/comfort, leon is mean in the beginning, toxic behavior i guess, implied age gap

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i was going through it and feeling emo so i wrote this. hope everyone enjoys as always <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight

The clock on the end table reads 2:43. Muted sounds of nightlife fill the space outside the walls of your apartment. You’re sprawled across the couch, half-asleep, with a soft blanket draped over you. You were waiting for your boyfriend to come home. Again.

Leon had been going through a rough patch. He was moody and ready to snap at any moment it seemed. He drank a lot, and he was gone all the time. You knew he had been through so much and there was no end in sight. That’s why you tried to put up with it, but all of it was weighing down on you too.

You sharply inhale as the sound of keys being jammed into the lock on the front door rouses you from your stupor. Sitting up straight, you rub your face tiredly. Your eyes are still adjusting to the darkness of the living room when the door opens. A beam of light from the hallway shoots across the floor, but it’s gone just as fast as it appears. You hear the lock click again and then see his shadow brush through the room as if you aren’t even there.

He’s in the kitchen now, and you’re not even fully sure of what he’s doing. But you pad in his direction anyways. Your soft voice breaks through the tense silence with a gentle call of his name.

“Leon?”

He turns to you. Even in the dark when you can’t fully see, you can feel the harsh nature of his stare.

“What are you doing up? Told you to stop waiting up for me,” he grumbles.

His tone stings, but you continue to approach him.

“I just worry. I can’t sleep if I don’t know you made it home safe,” you explain yourself quietly.

“Just go to bed. I’ll be there in a second,” he says and turns away again. But before he speaks, you swear you could hear him scoff. 

You didn’t understand where his sudden apparent resentment towards you came from. He had always dealt with so much, constantly feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. But until the last few months, he never took it out on you. Now though, it felt like you were dancing across a floor full of glass shards to avoid setting off an outburst of his.

“I just want to make sure you’re alright,” you say, keeping your voice quiet and cautiously laying your hand on his back.

It immediately became clear to you that touching him was the wrong choice though. He shrugs you off and pushes your hand back down to your side. Now that you were closer, you could smell the scent of booze on him. It wasn’t as heavy as previous nights, but it was still present. You retract your hand and stare at him with concern.

“Leon, what’s wrong? Have I done something to upset you? We can talk about it. I-” you try to defuse the situation before he cuts you off.

“Jesus fucking Christ, it’s enough,” he snaps. He fully pulls away from you. “Take a hint. Go to bed.”

He speaks with such disdain for you, it makes your chest ache. “I was just trying to help,” you say, looking like a kicked puppy more and more with each passing moment. He takes no sympathy on you though.

“Well, you aren’t helping. You don’t know shit about my problems, so stop trying to fix them,” he says to you, his voice ice cold.

“I’m not trying to fix anything. I’m just trying to be there for you because I love you!” you defend. His miserable disposition was starting to frustrate you. This wasn’t the first time you’d jumped through these hoops for him.

“Oh, bullshit,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

That slices through you like a knife. Your lips part slightly in shock, and your words tangle up in your throat. You fight back tears, not wanting to seem even more pathetic to him.

“I can see what you want. You want the old me back. But he’s not coming back. He doesn’t exist anymore,” he rants at you.

“I never said that. You can’t get mad at me for problems you’re creating!” you say to him angrily and cross your arms.

“Aw, you don’t want me to get mad at you? Did I hurt your feelings, baby? Am I being mean to you?” he mocks with a cruel smile before his emotionless expression returns, “Grow the fuck up.”

You try to ignore his teasing and work towards a solution, but that really hurt. And it seemed like he said it with no thought or remorse, like he had been storing that and it just came out. Tears burn in your eyes and a lump rises in your throat, but you manage to choke out your next statement. 

“All you do is push me away. I can’t help you because you won’t even tell me what’s wrong,” you say, forcing your voice to stay even.

“I push you away because you can’t handle real problems. You show me that over and over again. I mean, look, you’re almost in tears, and I haven’t said anything that bad,” he says with a gesture to your eyes.

“If I’m so fucking immature and selfish, why are you even with me?” you ask. A few tears leak from your eyes and down your cheeks but you wipe them away as quickly as you can.

“You know, I’ve been asking myself that question a lot recently, and it’s getting harder and harder for me to come up with an answer,” he says. He keeps eye contact with ease. His voice is laced with venom. There’s no trace of anything but bitter anger.

You honestly struggle to come up with a response. But that’s ok because he doesn’t wait for one before he continues speaking.

“I mean really, what do I get from this relationship? I know what you get. You get the attention you’re so fucking desperate for. But me? What do I get?” he asks, “A dumb little girl who follows me around like a lost puppy? I mean you’ve definitely got a pretty face, but it’s everything else that’s getting harder for me to stomach.”

You can’t stop yourself at this point. He knew how to break you down. Your lip juts out ever so slightly and quivers as tears slide down your cheeks. You take a step back from him and look down.

“There we go. Always with the fucking crying,” he sighs. His tone becomes mocking again as he continues. “You want me to kiss it better, sweetheart? Tell you everything’s gonna be ok. That I’m so so sorry.”

“No,” you cry, trying to defend yourself, “I don’t want any of that from you.”

“I’m sure,” he says flatly.

“Fuck you, Leon,” you weep, “I can’t win with you. You’re absolutely hellbent on being miserable. I’m done. Deal with your shit on your own. I don’t give a fuck.”

You turn on your heel and rush off to the bedroom. You fling the door shut, the thud of the slam echoing through the apartment.

At first, Leon didn’t care. His initial reaction was a shrug. He walks over to the couch, puts his feet up on the coffee table, and turns on the tv to some old movie. He was in a pissy mood, and he especially wasn’t in the mood to deal with you.

But as time goes on, and he sits there alone, a sense of shame starts to cast a shadow over his heart. He keeps seeing your face in his head. The soft look in your eyes while they were full tears he caused. Your body language as he ridiculed you, shrinking away from him, eager to get away but afraid of looking weak. He could hear a replay of his voice spitting out every callous thing he could think of. He felt like such an asshole.

It didn’t help that he was surrounded by things of yours. You’d brought out a pillow and blanket for yourself while you stayed up for him. They smelled like you. On the table, you had a book you’d been reading for a while. You’d tell him parts and explain the drama to him when he wasn’t in a bad mood. The tv remotes, spare the one he had grabbed, were organized in the particular way you always did when you watched tv. He felt the void in his heart growing as you stayed shut away in the bedroom.

You weren’t faring much better. You curled up under the comforter on the bed, crying softly into the pillows. You were missing your favorite one since you’d left it out on the couch. You felt a deep ache in your abdomen, a weight that kept you thinking about him and everything he’d said to you.

Despite how tired you’d been before he came home, you couldn’t sleep now. No position felt comfortable. Nothing made the bed feel less empty.

You felt so pathetic. You should be mad at him, furious, enraged. He acted like such a dick. He said things that gave you reasonable grounds to kick him out. But you didn’t feel that way. You didn’t want that. You were heartbroken. He was right. You yearned for him to kiss it better and tell you it was all ok and that he didn’t mean any of it.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it. You give in. It was humiliating, but that was what you chose. You pad into the living room skeptically. You stand a distance from the couch, afraid of setting off another landmine. But if he wanted to yell, you’d let him at this point. You just wanted him.

He sees you standing near the opening to the hallway that entered the living room. You looked so sad, it tore at his heart. Your face was a mess, your posture was so timid. What was wrong with him?

“Come here,” he sighs and pats his lap.

Without hesitation, you cross the room. You’re in his arms, against his chest. Your arms are wrapped around him tight while your head is buried in the crook of his neck. You start crying again, but you keep it as quiet as possible, still hearing always with the fucking crying ringing through your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out as you struggle to restrain a sob. You didn’t even know what you were really apologizing for. “I don’t wanna fight anymore.”

Another deep sigh escapes him. It could have been interpreted as annoyance, but you could tell it was regret. He rubs your back and holds you close against him.

“Shhh shhh. It’s alright, baby. It’s ok,” he says softly before stroking your hair, “We’re ok. I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” you weep and cling to him.

“No, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t be so quick to snap at you,” he says in a hushed tone. He kisses your head and continues rubbing your back, something he always did to calm you down.

He kept his voice quiet to keep his own emotions in check. He wanted you to be ok and to know he was sorry. But you didn’t need to know how awful this made him feel. Guilt was gnawing at him now as he watched you cry out the pain his words had inflicted on you. He gently rocks back and forth with you, wanting to calm you down even more. 

“Baby, this isn’t your fault. None of this is,” he says, “I got my own shit going on, and I take it out on you because it’s easy.”

His voice drops to a whisper towards the end of his statement. His words dripped with shame.

“You don’t deserve the shit I say to you, but I just see you standing there, looking so fucking sweet and perfect and you’re looking at me with all the love in the world and I can’t fucking take it,” he says, his voice cracking a little, “I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes, you do,” you cry, grabbing onto him tighter.

“No, I don’t. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. Staying up every night, waiting for a mean old fuck to come home and yell at you,” he says. It was now his turn for his eyes to water while  a lump grows in his throat.

You were at another loss for words. You didn’t know what would convince him not to feel so down on himself. Instead, you press a soft kiss to the side of his throat. He tilts his head back and deeply exhales at the pure gesture. 

“And when I said I didn’t know why we were still together… I hope you know what a huge lie that was,” he says, “You’re all I have in this ugly god damn world. That’s it. Without you, I’d just be going through the motions.”

You gaze up at him as he goes through this. You curl your legs up on his lap with the rest of your body and lean into his touch in an attempt to offer him some comfort.

“And when I look at you, I see the opposite,” he says, his voice fully breaking now, “I see someone who has her entire future ahead of her, and she’s wasting it hanging around a guy like me.”

“You’re not a waste,” you say, sitting up and placing your hand on his cheek.

Your thumb moves back and forth in tiny motions, dragging across the skin soothingly. You both stare into each others’ tearful eyes.

“You’re not a waste to me. I love you. You’re important to my life too,” you say seriously looking at him.

“Baby…” he sighs. You were so fucking cute. If he had any spine, he would break up with you. Force you to do better for yourself. But he couldn’t. He knew in his heart of hearts that he would never be able to let you go.

You lean in and give him a soft kiss. You rub your nose with his. You shift on his lap to be in a better position to give him your affection.

His hands fall to your hips to steady you. He returns the gesture and presses two gentle kisses of his own to your cheeks. “I’m sorry, angel,” he whispers.

You lean in for more kisses, accepting the apology with your actions. You rub the back of his neck and press your body against his. The question of whether he deserved forgiveness crossed your mind, but you didn’t dwell on it. You didn’t really care.

He groans into the kiss as he feels your breasts flush against his chest. Your tongue enters his mouth, and he returns the passion. In a few minutes, saliva coats your lips and your breathing is heavy. You gently roll your hips down.

He feels that as soon as you do it. He disconnects his lips for a moment and looks at you with dilated pupils. You rock your hips again, bringing down your clothed cunt on his jeans. The stiff fabric gives you a good amount of friction and coaxes a whine from your throat.

“Honey,” he grunts, “Are you sure? You’re not just doing this because… because you think you have to, right?”

He didn’t want you using sex because you thought that’s what would please him. But he also couldn’t ignore the feeling of his cock hardening in pants.

You shake your head, panting as you grind on him, your lips still flushed from making out. “I wanna feel your love,” you say, your voice breathless.

That didn’t make him feel much better, but you felt so fucking good. “Babe, I can make you feel loved in other ways. Afterwards, I can show-”

“Wanna feel close,” you say before kissing him some more to shut him up.

Well, this would be as close as you could get. That put him at enough ease to give in to his urges. He grabs your hips harder, kneading the flesh of your ass too, and guides your movements. Both of you let out pleasurable sounds at the sensation.

“So fucking good to me,” he grunts, “My perfect girl.”

Your hips don’t stop as you pull off your thin sleep top. Your head falls back at the muted pleasure you were receiving from rubbing yourself on him.

His hands leave your hips and cup your tits. He squeezes them and then brings his mouth to a nipple. He flicks his tongue on the peak and swirls it with dedication. You let out a breathy whine.

He scoots you closer and continues his mouth’s work on your chest. His cock was now completely stiff in his pants, offering you even better friction. You feel it pressing on your clit just how you like, and you bite your lip. He can tell it’s feeling good.

He pulls his lips away from your nipples. Then he lays a few wet kisses on your jaw before picking you up by the waist and laying you back on the couch. He tugs off your shorts and panties.

His hand slides between your legs. He drags his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you were.

“Such a sweet girl,” he breathes and captures your lips again in a quick kiss, “You’re soaked, babydoll.”

You nod timidly. He rubs you a little more, circling your throbbing clit and gliding over your wanting hole. You bite your lip and moan softly. Your hips rock against this touch as well before you suddenly whimper at a loss of contact and look up to see him sliding your fingers in his mouth. He groans at the taste of you before pulling the fingers back out of his mouth.

Reaching down, he unbuckles belt and drops his pants to the floor. He strokes his solid, flushed cock a few times. With the faint glow of the tv casting over the two of you, you can see a bead of precum emerging from the head. He adjusts his stance and positions himself at your entrance.

“I’m so sorry, little love. Let me try to make it better,” he breathes as he pushes inside.

Moans bubble in his throat as your tight, wet heat engulfs him. His head tilts back, and a ragged breath puffs from his lips. He grips the back of your thighs and holds your legs up.

He’s slow at first, dragging himself in and out, making sure to feel every inch of you. Your eyes flutter at the feeling, and your hips squirm for more.

As he begins to really thrust and set a consistent pace, he leans down to kiss you again. It’s sloppy and rushed, but he needed to feel you like this. He needed to feel that he hadn’t broken the connection you two had.

“My precious fucking girl. Am I making you feel good? Do you feel close to me?” he grunts, his grip tightening, “Can you tell how much I love you?”

You whine in response and nod. Your body heats up as he continues to slide in and out. He stretches you out just the way you like, fills you up so perfectly. He hits every sweet spot inside of you to make you forget he was even capable of saying such mean things sometimes.

You reach your arms up and pull his head down to rest against your neck. Your eyes were still full of your tears from earlier and a few slip out because of the strong difference between the euphoria of right now compared to the despair of the last hour.

One of your thighs drops back on the couch as the hand that was holding it comes up to your hair. He laces his fingers through the strands and begins pressing messy kisses to the side of your throat.

“My pretty baby,” he whispers against your skin, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

His hips continue their movements, his pelvis connecting with the skin of your ass over and over. He nuzzles your neck. You can hear his mix of harsh pants and soft groans right next to your ear. You cling to him as the heat inside you rises.

“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart. Wanna make sure you’re getting everything you deserve,” he says.

“Feels perfect,” you whimper after a string of moans, “I- I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Me too, doll,” he says. His hips piston into you harder. Your hands dig into the muscles of his back while your toes curl

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Leon,” you choke out as a cry leaves you.

“Mhm, good baby. I want you to cum for me, honey. I want you to feel so fucking good. Let it all go,” he says. 

His hand slides from his hair to your face and brushes away some of your tears. He kisses your cheek softly as you fall over the edge into bliss. Your body convulses underneath him as you release. You moan and writhe and the whole time he strokes your hair, cooing at you “my pretty girl” and “so so good for me.”

You were so tight around him. The sight of your eyes squeezing shut and your lips parting in ecstasy was too much for him. He thrusts into you a few more times before a moan rumbles through his chest and out of his mouth. He slams deep inside of you to spill himself. Hot, thick ropes of cum flood your insides.

You were shaky and trembling as he pulled out and planted a kiss on your forehead. He sits back on the couch, pushing the hair out of his face before pulling you up and close to him. He positions you on his lap and holds you to his chest.

He starts rubbing your back again and kissing your hairline. “Love you, babydoll. So so fucking much,” he whispers.

Your eyes close as you return the embrace and melt into his lap. You nuzzle and kiss his chest, relaxing into the affection.

“There’s my girl. All mine,” he coos.

You nod, enjoying the nice moment and letting yourself pretend that this whole cycle wouldn’t repeat in a few days time.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

[justmystyles]

Big Winners - Part 1

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x record producer plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 3,118

summary: Harry and Y/N have been friends for fifteen years, they finally work together on an album, and it leads them to a night that will change everything for them.

a/n: earlier this month, all the grammy memories popped up, and it inspired me to write this. i have a million half finished 'moment turned fic' stories in my drafts, but I actually managed to (mostly) finish this one. this is either going to be 2 or 3 parts, i still have a bit to finish, so we'll see.

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

Y/N and Harry met fifteen years ago, One Direction had been recently formed, and she was doing an internship at the studio where they were working on their debut album. She had befriended the entire band, but she and Harry clicked instantly, and formed a tight bond. 

They stayed close throughout the years. Harry’s career, both with the band and as a solo artist skyrocketed, while Y/N moved through the industry and had found herself producing some smaller projects. She rarely turned down an opportunity, taking on any work that came her way just to get the experience and the connections. Then, she received the offer of a lifetime. 

Once Harry had finished Love on Tour, he celebrated by inviting some of his closest friends and family to his villa in Italy for two weeks to relax and recharge. Y/N was one of the first people he asked. One night during the trip, Harry and Y/N snuck away from the group; it was intentional on his end, because he had something he was dying to ask her. 

As they sat on the moonlit beach shoulder to shoulder, their toes in the sand, Harry leaned over and bumped his shoulder against hers. “So, I’m going to be starting work on the new album soon.”

“Jesus Har, you’re not even finished with your recharge vacation and you’re already thinking about the next thing?” She chuckled. 

“You know I can’t turn it off.” He said with a sheepish laugh. “But there’s actually a reason I brought it up… I’ve been thinking about the direction I want to take, and who I want to work with, and I was wondering if you’d want to produce it for me?”

Y/N lets out a loud bark of laughter, startling Harry. “Good one.” 

“I’m serious.” He looks at her, and she can see that he really does mean what he says. 

“Harry, I don’t have production experience on that level.” She says, still in shock. “I mean, unless this is like a lullaby album or something.” 

Harry chuckles. “It’s not, but I know you can do it. I know your work, you’re so much more talented than you give yourself credit for. And sure, you haven’t got experience on my level, but you’re never going to get it if you don’t put yourself out there, who better to get the experience with than your best friend?” He says with a toothy, dimpled grin. 

“Literally anyone else?” She teases.

“Hey,” he whines with a furrowed brow. “You know you love me.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” The two of them are silent for a moment, while she lets his offer sink in. “You really want me to do this? You want me to be your producer?”

“That’s why I asked.” He scoffs. “But seriously, nobody knows me better than you, you understand me, you always push me when I need it, and you don’t take my shit. Imagine how that would translate to music. I think it could be something really amazing. Plus, we’d get to hang out a bunch.” 

“Ugh… you were making a good argument until you mentioned spending that much time together.” She says sarcastically as she rolls her eyes.

“Hey,” Harry says in a serious tone. “If you don’t want to do it, just tell me. But I really can’t imagine taking the next step in my career with anyone else.”

She sighs and smiles softly at him. “I would really love to work with you, Harry. If you’re sure, let’s do it.” 

His smile grows once again as he pulls her into a big hug. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” 

A few months later, the two of them embarked on their first collaboration, Harry’s fourth studio album, and it was an even better experience than either of them thought it would be. They knew each other so well, that they were perfectly in sync with every chord and every lyric. By the time they had a completed album, they were both confident that this was the best work of their careers. 

They were so proud of what they had done that they didn’t care how it sold, or what the reviews said, they knew that they had created something magical and if they were the only two people that liked it, they couldn't care less. However, that wasn’t the case. The record was a hit; glowing reviews, great numbers, and the fans positively ate it up. 

Harry and Y/N’s friendship was one that was well known, his fans would go crazy everytime they were seen together, the fandom was constantly shipping them. So when they found out that she was producing the record, it amped up the anticipation tenfold. As soon as it was released, they were combing the lyrics, and criticizing every background vocal and sound to find any clues about the true standing of the relationship. Of course, there was plenty of speculation, but the truth wasn’t anywhere near as exciting as the conspiracies and analysis. They were genuinely just two best friends with creative minds that made something amazing together. 

Given the reception the album received, it was no surprise that, when award season rolled around, they received a generous amount of nominations. So here they were, in LA, sharing a hotel suite and preparing to attend the Grammy Awards. 

As Y/N sat down to begin the hair and makeup process, Harry stepped out to go for a run to clear his mind. He was nervous about what the evening would hold. Partly for his performance, especially given the mistake at the beginning of his last Grammy appearance in 2023. He had insisted on extra rehearsal time, and extended the production meeting to make sure that everyone knew exactly what needed to happen and when. But more than that, he wanted this night to be perfect for Y/N. He had won awards before, but this was her first time being nominated. When they had first met, Y/N had told him about her dreams and one of the things she mentioned was the Grammys. He wanted this for her more than he did for himself. And although he knew she had matured in the last fifteen years, and valued more than just accolades and awards, if he could be the reason one of her childhood dreams came true, that would mean more to him than anything. 

When Harry returned from his run, he saw Y/N sitting in the common area, her hair and makeup still being worked on. She locks eyes with him through the mirror. 

“Hey, did the run help?” She asks. 

Harry shrugs as he approaches her. “A little, still pretty nervous though.” 

“What’s making you nervous? The nominations, or the performance?” 

Harry thought about the best way to answer this question, he didn’t want to tell her that he was nervous for her. He knew that even though she was hiding it well, she was nervous too, and his nerves on her behalf would make hers worse. On top of that, Y/N was alway so sweet and empathetic, she would take it personally and see herself as the reason he was nervous and end up feeling bad. He didn’t want to put a damper on this night for her. 

“Mostly the performance, I guess.” He finally responds. 

She extends her arm out, wiggling her fingers in an invitation for him to take her hand. When he joins his hand with hers, she squeezes gently. “You’re going to be amazing. I’ve never seen you give a bad performance. You’re going to kill it, and I’m going to be right there in the crowd losing my shit for you, just like I always do.” 

Harry laughs at her pep talk. “You know this is an industry thing, not a concert, right? People aren’t exactly going to be losing their shit in the audience.” 

“Good, then it will be easier for you to notice me from the stage.” She looks over at him with a sweet smirk. 

“Like I could ever miss you.” He scoffs, squeezing her hand.

“You’re showering before you get dressed, right?” She asks with an arched brow, lightning the mood. 

“Not before I give you a big, sweaty hug…” He says, outstretching his arms and moving closer.

“Harry Edward,” she says in a warning tone. “I’m already forty-five minutes into getting ready, and still have at least thirty to go. I cannot start over.

“God, you’re such a girl…” He groans and kisses her on the cheek before going into the bathroom to shower. 

While Harry showered, Y/N’s mind was racing. She’d known Harry long enough to know that there was more going on than just being nervous about the performance, but she wasn’t going to push him. She would just do everything she could to support and comfort him.

After his shower, Harry stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a robe just as Y/N’s hair and makeup was being finished. She stood from her chair, thanked her glam team and stepped up to Harry. 

“We should just go like this, it would cause quite a stir.” She joked as they stood face to face in their matching bathrobes. 

He smiles softly, still feeling the nerves flow through him. 

“Hey, you’ve got this… we’ve got this.” She assures him. “Even if we don’t win, the album was amazing. We made something beautiful. If the academy sees that, great. If not, whatever, we don’t need them anyway.”

Harry smiles and pulls her into a hug. “Yeah, I know, I know. No matter what, I am so proud of what we did. It’s better than I even imagined it would be, and I owe all of that to you.”

She giggles as she pulls out of the hug. “I didn’t do anything. I just pushed buttons and bossed you around.” 

Harry laughs loudly. “Two things you’re good at. Being bossy and pushing my buttons.” She gasps in mock outrage and slaps his chest playfully. “Seriously though, you brought my vision to life, and you did all the behind the scenes work to make sure it was the best album possible. You’re the biggest reason we’re here tonight.” 

Y/N smiles shyly and blushes. “Oh come on…”

Harry smirks mischievously, he always found it hilarious when he’d make her blush. He decided to double down. “Well, whatever the outcome, at least I’ll have the cutest date in the room.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

“God, you’re the worst.” She chuckles as her blush deepens. “I have to go put my dress on. You changing?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I’ll do that now. Meet you back here in ten?”

“It’s a complicated dress, might need fifteen…”

“God,” he groans playfully. “Such a diva!”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at him and turns to go into her room to get dressed. 

Twenty minutes later, Harry is pacing around in his suit, it’s a simple black suit with a gold silk shirt, unbuttoned enough to display the sparrows on his chest, and the butterfly across his abdomen. He steps up to her door and knocks gently as a reminder that they need to get going. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” She calls through the door. 

A few moments later, she emerges in a long gown, made of the same golden silk as Harry’s shirt. Harry’s eyes go wide when he sees her. She looks stunning, the gown hugs her curves in all the right places, and compliments her skin tone perfectly. 

Harry’s silence makes Y/N feel a little self conscious. She rarely dresses up, and when she does, she doesn’t usually pick things that put her body on display like this.

“Is it… do I look okay?” She asks tentatively. 

“It’s stunning, Y/N.” Harry looks at her in awe. “You look so incredibly beautiful, like an angel…”

“Alright Har, come on…” she says bashfully as she drops her gaze. 

“No, seriously. You clean up nice.” He chuckles, punching her on the arm playfully. 

“Yeah, well you don’t look so bad yourself.” She looks him over, a small smirk appearing on her face. “Is this why you wanted me to work with your team to pick my outfit? So we would be matching?” 

Harry chuckles and shrugs sheepishly. “Maybe…”

“You’re such a little pain in the ass.” She chuckles. 

“Whatever, it was worth it.” He says, grabbing her wrist and positioning them in front of the full length mirror. “We look damn good” 

“That we do.” She replies with a smile. She notices his expression grow more serious and furrows her brow. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just… fifteen years…” He says wistfully. “We’ve had a hell of a run, you and I.”

“Well it’s not over yet!”

“No, I know. Will you just shut up and let me have a moment?” He says as he nudges her. “We’ve been through a lot together, and I can’t really express how much it means to be standing here with you right now. No matter what happens tonight, we’ve definitely already won.” 

“Yeah, we have.” She sighs, wrapping her arm around his waist and pulling him into a side hug. “Now cut it out with all this mushy stuff, my makeup took way too long for me to start crying right now.” 

Harry laughs and pulls her into a tight hug. “Alright, alright, we’ll save the mushy crying for later.” He gives her one last squeeze before pulling out of the embrace. “Ready to go?”

She nods and he leads her out the door and down the hallway to the elevator. As it makes its descent to the lobby, Y/N gets uncharacteristically quiet. 

“You good?” Harry asks softly. “You seem quiet.”

She looks up at him, almost as if the sound of his voice broke her out of a trance. “Hmm? Yeah, sorry. I think the gravity of everything is finally hitting me. Like, it was all conceptual before, just words. But it’s real, we’re on our way to the Grammy awards… we’re nominated.”

Harry takes her hand, squeezing it gently. “I know. But you can’t worry about it, no more stressing out, okay? Tonight is our night, we just need to go out there and enjoy it.” 

“Can I say one more mushy thing before we stop trying to make each other cry?” 

Harry chuckles and nods, looking forward to hearing what Y/N has to say.

“I… when I decided I wanted to be a producer, my big thing was that I always told people I wanted to win Grammy awards. And I know we shouldn’t be defined by awards, but in an industry like this, you have to have some way to quantify or legitimize what you do to people who aren’t a part of it, and that was my way of doing it. I’ve been doing this for a long time, and this is the first time I’ve been nominated. I can’t tell you how glad I am that my first nomination is with you. It means the world to me that I can have this moment, share this milestone with my best friend. So thank you for letting me be a part of this album. You have no idea what it means to me.”

Harry is taken aback by Y/N’s words. While they were close, and shared everything, she would rarely be so open and vulnerable with her words. No matter what happened at the award show, that moment, right there in the elevator, would be the highlight of his night. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close, burying his face in her neck. 

“You have no idea what this means to me.” He mumbles against her neck. 

“Okay, so no nerves then?” She asks, pulling out of his embrace. “Whatever happens tonight, we will always have this moment together, and that’s what matters.” 

“Agreed.” Harry says, holding his hand out to shake hers. She giggles at the gesture and shakes his hand firmly. 

After a short ride in the limo, Harry slips out of the car and extends his hand, helping Y/N out. They walk through security and up to the start of the red carpet. Harry turns to face Y/N, and she adjusts his jacket, making sure he looks picture perfect. 

“Okay, go out there and smile big. I’ll see you on the other side.” She says like a proud mom, sending her son off to picture day. 

“How’s my hair?” He asks cheekily. 

She giggles and runs her hand through his hair. “Perfect.” 

He winks and gives her a sly smirk before stepping out onto the carpet and posing for the cameras. 

Y/N watches him take a few pictures, and once he moves on to the second pose position on the carpet, she turns to walk behind the step and repeat. Her arm is quickly grabbed by one of the producers. “You’re up.” He tells her.

“Oh no no no, I’m not walking the carpet.” Y/N insists. 

“Are you nominated?” She nods, a slight panic on her expression. Y/N was a behind the scenes person, she didn’t step in front of the camera. “Then you walk the carpet.” He nudges her forward, and she finds herself standing on the first mark, posing awkwardly for the camera. 

A few steps away, Harry’s gaze is traveling from camera to camera, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Y/N posing, he also sees the panic on her face. He quickly backtracks, coming up beside her and placing his hand on the small of her back. 

“You okay?” He whispers softly. 

“I didn’t know they were going to make me do the carpet…” She whispers nervously. 

Harry keeps his hand on the small of her back, his fingers moving along the skin gently to soothe her. “I know, I know. But you’ve got this, I’m right here with you, we’re going to do this together, this is our night.”

She nods, feeling more comfortable with Harry by her side. The two pose together as they move down the carpet. Harry was completely in tune with Y/N’s emotions, and any time he’d feel her start to stiffen up or get nervous, he would whisper a joke or silly comment in her ear to loosen her up. 

The photographers went crazy observing the chemistry between the two of them. Harry was aware what would be printed about them, and the status of their relationship, but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him in that moment was that nothing ruined this night for Y/N. 

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry edward styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles x fem! reader

[andreafmn]

Hello I see your taking request again ! I’m so happy It’s been sooo long hope your doing well !?!

Can you write a reader x jasper

Reader is a vampire she has been with the cullens for ever like before Alice and jasper got there !

She’s as cool as a cucumber like no one has ever seen her mad

Well once edwards started seeing Bella and being a diva he makes a comment about jasper and reader loses it like full on throws him through a wall lol

Everyone is super shocked because they’ve never seen her like that and emmitts booming voice in the back round saying well never talk shit about jasper in front of reader again

everyone nods in agreement and jasper just looks at reader and says I love when your defending me love but let’s not put anymore people through a wall and everyone laughs

Word Count: 3K

Story Description: (Y/N) Cullen might be even-tempered and calm by nature. But when it came to her partner, no one gets by unscathed. Not even her own family.

A/N: I know I took forever to post this request, but I always take forever for everything 😅 though I hope you enjoy and that I did your request honor, anon. My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing🥺👉👈. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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If you’d like to be tagged in any story or make a request: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Tagging apparently has reached its limits for Twilight stories. It won't allow me to post with the list I have right now, so turning on notifications will allow you to know whenever I post anything new.

Karmic Retribution

There were certain unspoken rules to being a Cullen.

One of the worst ones, the oldest made all the decisions. This meant that, more often than not, Carlisle and Edward were the ones to determine the outcome for the family. And to that point, it had been fine. There was never anything truly holding them down to any place in particular, and they could travel any time they wanted.

(Y/N) was fine with that to an extent. She was on the same level as Edward in terms of age, and sometimes she felt she should have more leverage in family decisions than she had. But she had always been quiet, keeping her anger always at bay. And it helped that she had Jasper by her side.

Their connection was almost instantaneous.

When the messy bundle of blond curls walked into their home in Calgary, she knew he’d turn her whole life around. They grew close quickly. Spending almost every moment by each other’s side. (Y/N) could not remember her life before she met Jasper Whitlock. As time passed, the memory of her time without him seemed more and more like a dream rather than her past. To her, he had been there forever.

Though she did not have any special abilities, everything about her was extraordinary to Jasper. She became his lifeline, the only thing to keep him afloat when he felt like drowning. Because most days he felt his head was always just barely above water. Treading on the line between fighting his animalistic instincts and his new family’s peculiar lifestyle.

(Y/N) could do to him what he was able to do for everyone else. She could read his emotions before he had a chance to name them, and she somehow found a way to make him calm and tranquil. She was everything he did not know he needed.

He had been afraid to tell her of his past. How he’d fought for the confederacy and had built and led an army of newborns in the south. He was ashamed of the lives he had taken, the people he had turned and promised eternity to in exchange for their loyalty, only to dispose of them one year later. All for what he thought was love. Jasper was frightened that the second he confessed to the sins of his past, (Y/N) would forsake him and push him aside.

Instead, he was met with a wave of compassion that washed over him. As his eyes stung from dry tears, (Y/N) provided him with a smile that he was sure could warm his frozen body. She placed a comforting hand on his cheek and gave his lips a soft kiss.

“Our pasts do not define the people we are today,” she had told him, nothing but love in her eyes. “The reason we are who we are now is because we have moved forward from what we did yesterday. You don’t need my forgiveness, my love. For the man I know now will never be the same as the man that was. What you need is to forgive yourself.”

At that moment, Jasper knew that his search was finally over. Though he still struggled with his hunger and considered himself a dangerous man, he’d found the person that could love him completely. A woman that had taken one look at the scars of his past — literally and figuratively — and, instead of recoiling in fear and disgust, had placed a kiss upon them and filled them with love and compassion.

“Do you know how lucky I am, darling?” Jasper had told her one day as they lay in a clearing somewhere in the snowy surroundings of Alaska.

“Is that so?” (Y/N) chuckled. Her fingers traced the stitching of the vest he wore, her head pressed against his chest wondering what his heartbeat could have sounded like. “I’d like to think I’m the one that is lucky. How many years did I spend on my own, waiting on my forever? Then you show up, with Alice in tow, and you change our family for the better. And now, I have someone to walk through life until the end of time.”

“Life is funny that way, huh,” he smiled. “And that is precisely what I wanted to speak to you about. I know our journey is seemingly endless and certain mundane things don’t particularly mean as much as eternity. But there is something that I want more than anything — mostly as a symbol of how much I love you. Because in this life and the next I want nothing more than to spend it by your side. So I ask you, (Y/N), would you do me the absolute honor of allowing me to be your husband?”

“For as long as love lives between us, yes. A thousand times yes.”

A wedding was such a monumental event for humans. For beings that stood the trials of time, it was a symbol of commitment. A way to bind their lives with something other than words. A simple promise made in the presence of the people they valued above everything else. That they were making the choice to intertwine their lives in all ways, regardless of any circumstances.

The event had been small, much to Alice’s dismay. The pair simply wanted their family and a few friends in attendance. Their love needed no impressive show, it simply was, and that’s how they wanted it.

In the family, they kept their heads low and out of the way. It was futile to insist on having more of a voice when it came to the decisions of the family. To that point, they had no quarrels with the choices the patriarch had determined for the clan.

Keeping to themselves allowed (Y/N) and Jasper to form a bond like no other. They didn’t need Edward’s mind reading to be able to hear the other’s thoughts; didn’t need Alice’s foretelling to know their life would be live and full of life. The couple had created the perfect balance between themselves and orbited around the family. Still, it was them against the world.

Jasper being the youngest — at least considered that way for being the last to join the family — was often the target for many quips in the family. From his stoic stare to his short fuse when it came to human blood, the blond would often be the butt of the joke. And it never seemed to anger him. He’d chuckle from time to time or roll his eyes at any lines that went just a little too far. But he never defended himself or asked them to stop.

His efforts were centered on keeping (Y/N)’s anger toward the family at bay. Though she was calm by nature, she despised the way their adoptive brothers picked Jasper apart. How they would jokingly criticize something the man could not control. It was often a topic of discussion when the pair enjoyed a rare moment of privacy.

“I’m going to squash them,” she huffed. “Are they not tired of the same jokes? Is there even an original thought in their heads?”

“There’s no need to worry your pretty little head over them, darling,” Jasper chuckled, placing a comforting kiss on her head. “I’m used to it by now.”

“But you shouldn’t be! Every day you work your hardest to control yourself around humans and I know how painful it can be for you. Then Tangina and Schwarzenegger come in and tell the same stupid jokes over and over again,” she exclaimed. (Y/N)’s arms flew up in frustration earning a chuckle from the man as he stared at her from where he lay. “It’s not funny, Jasper. One of these days I’m gonna blow and you’re not gonna be able to calm me down.”

“As much as I would love to see you say your piece to Edward and Emmett, I assure you I do not mind.” He took her hands in his, kissing the knuckles gingerly. “Their words do not affect me, darling. The only person whose approval I care for is yours.”

“And that you will have until the end of time.”

And that was the case for the next couple of years. Whenever they’d reach a new town the other two Cullen teens would joke about how Jasper could snap at any moment, and he’d wreak havoc in the city. They would say pick on him and laugh at him. The worst part, he simply took it, much to (Y/N)’s dismay.

She would grow angry, he would temper her emotions, she would complain about their brothers’ treatment behind their backs, and he would say it was fine. But it shouldn’t have been fine. He should never have gotten used to the unnecessary mean jokes from the older boys.

When they settled in Forks, (Y/N) already knew the cycle. New town, same jokes. The only difference this time, Edward grew obsessed with a particular human.

The day he’d come home from school muttering how he needed to leave for some time and hole himself up in Alaska, (Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. There was Mr. Jasper-can’t-control-himself at the end of a downpour of blood frenzy. Everything he had jabbed at her partner with had come back to bite him.

She had laughed with Jasper that night, the jokes laced with actual worry that Edward would be the one to snap and attack a human. But the karmic retaliation had been far too exquisite for her to remain concerned. Revenge was always a very tasty treat.

But her small victory had not lasted long.

Only a week later, Edward had come back home with a recharged confidence. His woes about hurting Isabella Swan had died in a matter of seven days and he was ready to throw a hundred and ten percent toward forming a connection with the frail human.

And with Edward’s presence coming back, so did the overused jokes.

It had been a sunny afternoon in Washington and all the Cullens were stuck inside the house. Most of the morning had been uneventful, each of the family members reclused in their own rooms. The house was quiet and tranquil, peaceful. But that never lasted long. Especially when they were all home.

“So, Edward, this Bella chick is kind of… different, huh?” Emmett commented, his typical goofy grin spreading across his face. “But don’t you think it’s kinda dumb to get involved with a human?”

“Yeah, it might be,” he chuckled. “But it would be dumb of me to not even try. There’s just something about her that’s… intoxicating.”

“Yeah, it’s called human blood,” Rosalie spat. “Because she’s a human, Edward. The worst thing you could do is get involved with her. It could put her in danger. It can put all of us in danger.”

“There’s nothing wrong with testing the waters though,” he debated. “There’s truly something about her that calls to me. I need to see what it is.”

Anger had started sprouting inside (Y/N) as she listened to her family discuss the sudden apparition of Bella in their lives thanks to their adoptive brother. The cold that ran through her veins suddenly started growing warm, consuming her from the inside out. Not even the hand that Jasper had placed lovingly on the low of her back was enough to dissuade the ire that was taking over her.

“We’ve pretended to be humans for decades; I think I can do it for a couple of months with Bella. I just… I need to get to know her,” Edward continued. “I need to at least try.”

“And what will you do when she starts asking questions?” (Y/N) interjected. “How will you explain the cold skin? The fact that you don’t eat? The fact that you turn into a disco ball under the sun? How will you refrain from telling her you are a vampire?”

“I simply won’t tell her, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “It’s not that hard to not mention the fact that my family and I are a bunch of supernatural vampires.”

“You can’t even read her mind, Ed. How will you know she’s not coming up with conclusions on her own?”

“God, we can sit here a debate all night long on why it’s a bad idea for me to get in any way, shape, or form to get involved with Bella,” he retorted. “But it’s not really a family decision. I’m gonna see where things go with her, regardless of what any of you think.”

“So, you’re willing to put our family – our whole species – in danger, for a seventeen-year-old you met a couple of weeks ago?” (Y/N) questioned. Jasper was failing to calm her down. He could feel the angry red monster taking over her mind as she debated with Edward. Her emotions were taking over her reason and he could do nothing to help her. “I can’t believe you could be that reckless and selfish. Our entire existence depends on us being careful and guarding our secrets with our lives, especially in this town. If the Volturi don’t get you, I’m sure the wolves would be more than ready to put you in your place for breaking the treaty.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/N),” he laughed dryly. Everyone could tell he wasn’t taking the dangers seriously, he was not taking her seriously. To the older boy, it was merely a conversation. “If there’s anyone we should worry about recklessly exposing our secret is mister short fuse over there.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“That it only takes something as little as a prick on a finger and fidgety Jasper will be pouncing on a human. The safest way for any of us to keep the secret is for you to keep a short leash on your husband.”

Edward had once vowed to not use his ability on his family unless absolutely necessary, and he had always kept that promise. That afternoon, he regretted it.

As everyone laughed at his taunting joke, (Y/N)’s emotions reached their peak. Her eyes had grown darker, and her hands had balled into fists. She couldn’t resist the wrath that had taken over her. All she could see was red.

One second, the family was enjoying the gag against the Cullen. The next, (Y/N) had pushed Edward hard enough to go through a wall in their picturesque living room. Dust filled the area, fragments of the wall thudding against the wall, falling around the boy. A mix of glass, wood, and gypsum board had scattered around Edward’s body, his body coated in a fine layer of dust.

The same expression of shock washed over each of the family members, astonished at the sight in front of them. Calm-mannered and good-natured (Y/N) had finally reached her boiling point. For centuries, she had always been able to keep herself emotionally balanced, even without Jasper. None of them thought there would come a day when they would see her temperament break.

Her chest was heaving, her nostrils flared, and her hands still stretched in front of her. She wasn’t breathing, instead, she was letting out every ounce of fury that still burned inside her. In a split second, she regained her composure. (Y/N) smoothed down her clothes and her usual smile spread across her face.

Silence spread across the room, the kind that was enough to deafen ear drums. It was tense and uncomfortable, filled with a type of discord they had never witnessed between them before.

“I think we can all agree that all jokes about Jasper’s, uh, condition shall only be done in private or inside our heads,” Emmett’s voice sliced through the silence, his voice booming and reverberating against the walls. “That was… unexpected.”

“But we can all say it’s a long time coming,” Jasper grinned, turning his attention to the woman he proudly called his wife. “And, darling, as much as I love that you’re defending me, I think it’s best we don’t put more people through walls. Alright, love?”

“I guess that’s doable,” she smiled.

The rest of the siblings broke into laughter. All but Edward that wore a scowl on his face as he wiped away the white dust from his face. (Y/N) couldn’t help the pride that swelled in her chest. After years of biting her tongue and holding back her feelings, it felt exceptional to finally shut Edward up.

“Well, Edward, it seems you and Emmett will have to set aside some time to fix that wall,” Carlisle grinned. “Can’t have your new girlfriend coming over and seeing a person-shaped hole in our new living room.”

“Why do I have to do it? (Y/N)’s the one that pushed me!”

“Let’s call it your apology for taunting Jasper for the past few decades,” Esme responded before joining her retreating husband. “Now get to it, boys.”

“How is that fair?”

“What can I say, Eddie boy?” (Y/N) grinned. “Karma’s a bitch.”

Jasper and (Y/N) promptly sped outside, needing a moment to themselves after the chaotic scene that unfolded. When they reached the clearing they often sneaked out to, the blond wrapped his wife in his arms and placed a passionate kiss on her lips.

“I can’t thank you enough for defending my honor,” he smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “Though I can’t say Edward didn’t deserve it, maybe next time we can try to use our words rather than our hands.”

“I’m offended, Major. It was a calculated reaction after years of bullying.”

“(Y/N),” he lovingly reprimanded. “You know better than that.”

“Alright, love. I promise I won’t throw Edward into a wall ever again,” she smiled, pecking his lips. “But I can’t promise I won’t find other ways to get even.”

“I would never expect less.”

At that moment, everything was perfect. Nothing and no one could ever have predicted that in less than a year Bella Swan would infiltrate their family, that all the quips against Jasper would accidentally turn into reality, and that life as the Cullens knew it would drastically be altered.

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[suyacho]

heart to heart // sanemi shinazugawa

something about seeing you pregnant & all dressed up gets sanemi feral, he just can’t keep his hands off you, even if you have plans.

click here to be tagged in my next work :)

content warnings: ageless blogs/minors dni - fem!reader - pregnancy mentions & pregnancy sex - reader in a dress - unprotected sex - sweet/intimate sex - handjob - slight praise - a bit of teasing - nicknames - not beta read its 4am lol

note: happy late mothers day, i spent more time on the banner than i did on the fic (/j) because i had a specific idea and now its no longer mothers day but hey, fuck it we ball

“Stop teasing me or just fuck me, we’re going to be late baby.” you mumbled, crossing your arms and glaring at your lover who had been kissing and feeling you up for the past 30 minutes, leaving you hot & bothered and also sexually frustrated.  

“That’s my girl, I’ll be quick I promise.” Sanemi smirked, gently pushing you on your back, hovering over you and taking in his view. How could he not? Especially when you got all pretty and dressed up, showing off your small baby bump, the pregnancy glow practically shining through, making him go feral.

“Mhm Nemi, hurry up.” you whined, moving your dress up a bit & spreading your legs, giving him easier access. “Oh baby… you’re already drenched, were you that desperate?” he fake pitied you, referring to the damp spot on your panties as he teasingly rubbed you through the fabric. 

“You’re so mean, Nemi.” you whined a bit, being desperate to be touched, to feel anything in general. “You love me.” Sanemi smirked, pulling your panties down just enough to slide in easily. Quickly, he got rid of most of his clothes, spitting on his cock as lube after and giving his hard member a few pumps before lining up with your entrance. 

“I bet I can just slide in, can’t I baby?” “You’ve taken this cock so many times after all.”

“Well then just do it, we’re in a hurry.” you told him sternly, only for him to laugh as he teased you with his tip. “Easy baby, easy.” Sanemi hushed you, slowly pushing in inch by inch, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers in the process.

“You’re so fucking breathtaking.” Sanemi groaned, giving you a second to adjust while he looked down at you, looking at you with all the love & lust in the world. Sanemi just absolutely loved how you looked when pregnant, your small bump, your stretch marks, your chest getting slightly bigger, all of it being a result and a reminder of yet another creation of you two. His huge breeding kink played hand in hand with it, that probably being the reason that this was your third kid on the way.

“Even when I’m like t-this?” you questioned, a moan slipping out mid sentence as Sanemi slowly started moving, not giving you a chance to properly say it. “Always and forever.” he mumbled between kisses, resting his forehead against yours afterwards.

A small giggle left your lips as you closed your eyes, enjoying the moment and allowing yourself to get lost in pleasure as you squeezed his hand. You were so lucky to get a sweet and caring boyfriend like him, even though his attitude was something else to deal with, he had this sweet & loving side to him, one you’d never trade for anything in the world.

“I love you.” Sanemi groaned, burying his face into your neck as he picked up his pace a bit more, trying his back to hold back and not to be too rough. Even though all he wanted to do was fuck you hard & rough, get you dumb on his cock, he couldn’t, at least not right now. He never dared to be too rough with you through your pregnancies, he put your pleasure before his, because seeing you feeling good was more than enough for him to get off too.

“Mhm— I love you too.” you smiled, running your hand through his hair as he left kisses on your neck, sucking & licking on some spots, leaving behind his mark, making you moan into his ear and pull on his hair.

“Like it when I mark you up, don’t you?” Sanemi mumbled against your neck, the sound of skin slapping against each other filling the room as he fucked into you at a languid pace, his tip kissing your sweet spot with every thrust, making you see stars. 

You were extremely sensitive and needy the past few days, so sensitive that you easily came and lost yourself in pleasure, leaving you yearning for your husband’s touch. Lucky for you, he didn’t mind it at all and was there to tend your needs at all times.

“You k-know I do.” you whimpered, bucking your hips up for more friction, only for Sanemi to hold you back.  “Relax my love.” he told you sweetly, pampering you in kisses while his hand slid between your legs and he gently started to rub your clit, never slowing down his movements in the process.

“Just lay down and enjoy yourself— fuck.” “Just let me do the work alright?”

All you could do was nod desperately and grab onto his back, slightly digging your nails in as you moaned and blabbered on about how good he was making you feel and how you wanted more.

You were just like putty in his hands, ice that was melting under his warm touch. Sanemi knew your body like the back of his hand after all.

“R-Right there, don’t stop, please.” you begged, your legs slightly trembling as you felt that familiar knot. “Good girl, go ahead and cum for me whenever you’re ready.” Sanemi whispered into your ear, his thrusts becoming a bit rougher while he continued rubbing your clit, knowing from the way your body reacted, you were ready to snap at any given moment. 

That was all you needed to hear before you released around him, crying out his name and holding onto him for support as your orgasm came crashing down. “There you go, that’s my girl.” Sanemi praised you, helping you through your high, ignoring his own needs, placing sweet kisses on your cheeks.

“T-Thank you Nemi.” you smiled at him, catching your breath as you ran your hands through his hair, relaxing after a moment until you realized something. “Baby?” you asked sweetly, breathe still a bit shaky from your orgasm.

“Yes?” Sanemi answered, looking at you as he slowly pulled out, leaving you both gasping. “You didn’t cum, did you?” you continued, stroking his sides gently while locking eyes with his, knowing he couldn’t lie to you.

“It’s alright— you enjoyed yourself didn’t you?” Sanemi reassured you, laying down next to you happily and you shook your head. “I did but still…” you mumbled, hand trailing down his chest, slightly teasing his length before wrapping your fingers around it after, starting to pump up and down. 

“You’re still rock hard baby, I wanna see you cum.” you pouted a bit, looking at his tinted cheeks as you continued, picking up your pace as he became more vocal with each passing second.  “Baby… i-it’s ok.” Sanemi tried to convince you, cock twitching in your hands after, ruining his plans. You knew he was close, it was only a matter of time.

“Stop being so stubborn and cum, cum for me baby.” you whispered into his ear, giggling a bit when he desperately fucked into your fist, releasing all over your hand and his chest seconds later. “There you go.” you smirked, helping him through his high and licking your fingers clean after while maintaining eye contact with him.

“We’re so late aren’t we.” Sanemi breathed out, pulling you in a needy kiss after catching his breath, not giving you a chance to reply. He groaned a bit when tasting himself on your tongue, gently placing his hands on your sides.

“And who’s fault is that?” you frowned, pulling back before he could deepen the kiss. “Well— you looked too good, I couldn’t help myself.” Sanemi shrugged and you playfully slapped him, rolling your eyes after.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” you laughed, being pampered in kisses by him once again. Sanemi was all giddy, smiling from ear to ear as he placed kisses all over your body, lastly on your little baby bump, looking up at you with a big smile.

“Happy mother’s day mama.”

networks: @tokyometronetwork​​

#sanemi smut #sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa smut #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi x reader smut #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #shinazugawa sanemi smut #sanemi shinazugawa x reader smut #pls notice the color symbolism /j #snow writes; smut #tw pregnancy #cw pregnancy

[justmeinadaze]

Little Girl Gone Part 3 (Steddie X You)

A/N: I tried to grab all the tags! If I missed any let me know :)

Warnings: Gangster Eddie/Officer Steve & Doctor Fem Reader, SMUT, slight degrading, spanking, slapping, handcuffs, etc. FLUFF, more details about the guys relationship,

ANGST, Per the previous chapters cliffhanger we get to meet Jason Carver and he causes problems triggering Eddie to react impulsively. Steve and Y/N spend the bulk of the chapter trying to talk him out of it. Steve and Y/N talk about past relationships, The boys fight but its an understanding between them (you'll see what I mean), technically not a cliffhanger ending this time!

Word Count: 6883

Previous Chapter Here

Clearing your throat, you regained your composure as you feigned a smile and extended your palm out to shake his. 

“Hello there Mr. Carver. How can I help you today?”

“Well, like I told the young lady out there, I’m just here for a checkup. I’m embarrassed to say I wasn’t even aware this little office was here and so close to my house!”, he chuckled as he leaned against the counter. 

Your head slightly ticked to the side at his statement as you pretended to read his chart. Carver’s side of Hawkins was nowhere near your clinic with you actually being a lot closer to Eddie’s building then any of Jason’s. 

“Is that right?”

As the gangster nods, he turns his back to you for a moment to check his phone allowing you to sneak towards your sink and turn on the water as you pretended to wash your hands, utilizing your own device as you call Eddie’s phone. 

“If anything happens, you see something or feel unsafe just call my cell. I’m more likely to answer than Steve who’s always on the move.”

Casually fumbling with your hair, you slide the wireless earbud into your ear and slide your device back into your pocket just as Jason turns back around. 

“Please forgive me. Didn’t mean to break one of your rules.”, he laughs softly as he points to your “No Cell Phones” sign.

“Hey princess. I was just thinking about you.”, Eddie’s voice sweetly flowed from your phone.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Mr. Carver. I completely understand.” You heard clicking that sounded like a gun being loaded as you focused on the man in front of you. “Now was there a particular reason you felt like you needed a checkup or did you just wanted to keep up appearances?” 

“No Steve, fuck you. I’m not staying put. This fucker has the nerve to come on to MY territory and…well then I’ll meet you there. You better get there before me because I swear to God if this asshole wants a war… The fuck did you just say to me!? Goddamn it!”

“I have to confess; I did have a bit of a reason. My head and my shoulder have really been bothering me.”

“Steve’s on the way, Y/N. He said he’s a couple of minutes away and so am I. Just stay calm, baby.”

“That’s not uncommon with things like…migraines. I, um, I can run some tests and prescribe you some medication that…that will help.”

Jason takes a few steps toward you as he speaks. 

“I would appreciate that. It just genuinely feels like I got shot in the forehead or something.”, he chuckles as he moves again till he’s right in front of you. 

“I think you should leave.”

“Aw, why? I’ve heard from the community around here that you’d be the person to come to for pain and I’m in a lot of it. You see, I had to bury one of my close friends yesterday.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, honey.”

“Don’t call me that.”, you growl making him smirk down at you before pushing some of your hair behind your ear displaying the earbud. 

“She seems like a strong one, Munson. Beautiful. Girl in uniform. You definitely have a type.”

“Don’t touch me either.”

“Or what, honey, huh?”

The exam room door flies open as Steve barrels through with his gun drawn. 

“Jason. You’re on the wrong side of town.”

“Put me on speaker, Y/N.”

Removing the device from your ear, you do what he says and hold your phone towards the gangster whose eyebrows raise in amusement.  

“Is that my favorite rival?”

“Jason… you’re playing with fire. First you come on my territory, kidnap, and hurt Steve. Then you send one of your idiots to point a gun in my face. Normally this would be strike three but I’m giving you an out here. Stay away from them and off my side of Hawkins and we’ll do the same.”

“You know, Eddie, that sounds like a sweet deal. Let me talk it over with my team and…oh wait. You killed half my team.”

“You hurt the man I love. You started this… Don’t play the victim now.”

“No, you know who’s a victim? Andrew, Patrick, Samuel, and all of my other friends you killed.”, he sneered as his eyes met your own. “Soon you’ll know what it feels like. You won’t know when or where, freak, but I assure you I will be there when your pig and little whore here become victims to. Unless… you want to switch sides and come with me, pretty girl.”

As his hand reached out to touch your face, your fist reached out to punch him, knocking him backwards just in time for Steve to move forward, grab your wrist, and pull you behind him. 

“Like you said, asshole, I have a type. She’s a lot stronger than she seems. However…”

The door to the room opens again as Eddie saunters in cocking his gun and points it in the other man’s face. 

“If you ever pull a stunt like this again or lay one hand on her, there will be nowhere you could run where we wouldn’t find you. I’m not Allen, Jason. I’m not going to let the stupid bullshit you used to do slide.”

Moving aside to stand by Steve, he allowed the gangster to stand and adjust his suit as he headed for the door. 

“You’re right, Munson. You aren’t Allen. The streets ran better with him in charge and you’re nothing like him. You may think these people respect you but I assure you they pity you.”, he spat before leaving the way he came.

The officer immediately turned around and cupped your head in his hands. 

“Are you ok, honey? You did really good.”

You aggressively nod, gripping his wrist as you lean your forehead against his. 

“Yeah, I’m ok. What does this mean?”

“It means I fucking slaughter that asshole and show him exactly how people respect me.”, Eddie grumble as tucked away his weapon. 

“No, it doesn’t. That’s something impulsive Allen would do but not you.”

The gangster chuckled under his breath casually walking towards the officer, placing himself mere inches from him with a stoic expression but eyes filled with fury. 

“That’s the second time today you, Steven, have insinuated I’m acting like my father and second person today to compare me to him. I am the boss of the Munson crew and I know how to handle my business. Now, go back to being the dirty cop and shut the fuck up.”

“I’m dirty because of you, babe. Everything I do is for you.”

“Wait…”, you begged as you step between them, each man prepared to duke it out here in your exam room. “Wait, don’t do this here. We can talk about it tonight in your loft.”

“We?”, Eddie sneered as he backed away. “You two can come over but the conversation will be the same. I know what I’m doing and neither of you have any say but especially you, little girl.”

“The head of a gang just threatened my life. I’m allowed to have an opinion on this.”

“Edward Munson, don’t do anything till we talk or I swear to God, I will arrest you and take you in myself.”

The gangster bit his bottom lip, huffing at he turned to leave. 

“Well then bring your handcuffs, sweetheart, because you will need them.”

##############

Steve stayed with you the rest of the day and after you got off, drove with you to Eddie’s building. As soon as you both stepped in you could feel the energy buzzing around what happened. 

“Hey Marcus. Please tell me he’s at least in his apartment.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Harrington, but he has had people coming and going.”

“Great. Thanks, bud.”

The man behind the desk smiles at you as you wave politely, your other hand firmly locked with the officer’s as he led you to the elevator. 

“Is this normal? Have you ever seen him like this?”, you ask.

“Uh, yeah, but not at this scale.” As the door to the elevator closes, he sighs before turning to face you. “We meant what we said, Y/N, about not hurting you or anything like that but we both can get feisty when we’re heated. If anything makes you feel uncomfortable or you get scared just say that word we taught you, ok?”

The entire week you stayed with them after what happened with Andrew, you not only spent that time getting to know each other but they explained some rules they like to follow when it comes to “playing rough.” Steve told you that due to their line of work sometimes they liked to take out their stresses on each other which made you giggle at the time when his eyes playfully rolled back. 

“We like to go all out, you know? Slapping, choking, degrading… of course, honey, you don’t have to do any of that.”

“I don’t mind you doing any of that. Just don’t like punch me or cut me.”

“Sweetheart, we aren’t into that kinda thing either. Trust me, we see it enough out there.”, Eddie teases as he points absently towards the window. “If you don’t like something we’re doing or you need us to stop just say ‘Red’, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, Munson. She has manners. I like that.”

“Yes, sir.”

The officer grins as he leans down to kiss your lips. 

As soon as you enter Eddie’s apartment you’re stunned by the chaos around you. There were guns laid out in random sections of the living room with a gigantic map of Hawkins on the coffee table. Walking further in, you noticed pieces of glass shattered against the wall with liquid that smelled like bourbon surrounding it. 

“Ed, this is a rash jump. Shouldn’t the retaliation be level with the offense? A war seems…extreme.”

“Alright, Gareth, what would be level for openly threatening me and the people I care about, hm? Kill more insignificant lackies? Steal some of his product? No. If this is what he wants then I’m going to give it to him.”

“Jesus, man. You sound like—” The gangster’s angry glare cut him off as he rose to his feet, relief panting his features when he noticed Steve. “You know we’d follow you anywhere but we…I really think you should reevaluate your strategy.”

Eddie ignores him as he holds his current glass of alcohol in his hand to his forehead as he continues to focus on the image in front of him. The officer pats Gareth shoulder comfortingly as he leaves and you exhale your nerves as you watch these two men you’ve grown fond of interact.

***

“I see you didn’t wait for me.”, Steve sighed with agitation. 

“You’re right, I didn’t, but I haven’t made any definitive moves yet so you’re right on time to say your peace.”

“Eddie, I’m not playing around. If you start a gang war in the middle of Hawkins, I will arrest you and throw you in a cell myself. If you want to act like your dad then I can treat you like him.”

The long-haired man slammed his glass against the table and rose to his feet, striding angrily towards the officer before shoving him furiously in the chest.

“Last time you tried that, babe, we barely made it halfway down the street before you were fucking me and letting me go! You think now you can follow through? After everything we’ve been through? Now that you love me.”

Steve stepped forward shoving the man back with his broad chest.

“With no hesitation, honey. I’d be doing it because I love you. I’m not going to let you get innocent people and/or yourself killed! There are other ways we can do this, Eddie.”

“There’s no other way. I’m tired of his cocky, entitled attitude and I gave him plenty of leeway! His response was to hurt you, threaten me, and intimidate Y/N? No. I won’t have that disrespect!”

“Eddie, doing this won’t gain you that respect. If anything, you’ll lose more or all of it.”, you added trying to help. 

“Oh, sweetheart, if anyone has less say in this, it’s you.”

“My life is now on the line to as well as those innocent people Steve mentioned. I see and heal them every day! You told me when we first met that you didn’t kill people you didn’t have to. You don’t have to do this.”

Eddie glared into his boyfriend’s eyes as he reached for his phone and started dialing. 

“Hey, Jeff. Yeah, get everything together and—”

Steve hand flew, knocking the device from the gangster’s hand as he tumbled to the side and caught himself on the couch. 

“Jeff, it’s Steve. Ignore that order. As a matter of fact, all of you head home for the night, ok? Mr. Munson and I need to have a talk so he won’t be making anymore decisions tonight.”

With exception force, he threw the phone hard against the wall, not even flinching when it shattered. Both men stared each other down as the fury burned around them and you’d be lying if you said watching them angerly pant as their dominance oozed from them didn’t turn you on a bit. 

 Eddie lunged toward him and you watched in aw as both men began to fight each other. The officer got the upper hand, pinning him to the floor, and pressing his knee into his shoulder blades as he handcuffed his hands behind his back. 

“Be careful, Steve! He’s still healing.”

Rolling him onto his back, he checked the gangster’s wound that was exposed due his shirtless physique that had Steve not just checking his side but his entire upper body. 

“Why are you acting so impulsively? This isn’t like you.”

“Well, this feels familiar. You sizing me up while I’m on my back, handcuffed. I’m starting to think the reason you restrain me is because you can’t control me without it. Just like how you think threatening to take me in will get me to submit to what you want.”

Keeping both knees straddling his waist, Steve’s palms caressed his stomach around to his back, his eyes never leaving his boyfriend’s as he removed the cuffs accepting the challenge. 

“I can control you just fine without restraints. Now… are you done with your tantrum, little boy, or should we keep going?”

The condescension in his partner’s voice infuriated the gangster as he smacked him in the face and tried to throw him off him. This just spurred Steve on more as he grabbed the man’s wrists and held them to the floor. 

“Honey, can you help me?”

Nodding, you scurried his way and when his eyes gestured towards his belt, you immediately unbuckled it, even going the extra step of pulling out his cock for him.

“Thank you, pretty girl.”, he coos, tilting his head towards you so you could kiss his lips as Eddie struggled beneath him. “See? She’s a good girl.”

“She IS a good girl. That’s why I’m doing this; to protect her.”

“Don’t. Don’t say you’re doing this for us, Eddie, because we don’t want you to do this.”

The gangster’s jaw clenched at your words causing Steve to sigh in frustration as he leaned down till the tip of his cock was resting on his lips. 

“Open.” When his partner remained still, the pretty boy rolled his eyes, shuffling the man’s hands into one of his own so he could free his other to reach behind him and place it on the massive bulge in his slacks. “OPEN.”

Eddie’s eyes fluttered as Steve continued to massage him and without prompting you slide towards the gangster’s waist and unbuckled his pants as well. 

“All the way off, baby. He needs to be exposed and vulnerable because that seems to be what he’s into now a days. Right, little boy? That’s what this move you’re planning will do.”

When Eddie moaned, Steve turned to see just as you were running your tongue down the veins of the man’s length. 

“She’s a lot nicer than I am because I assure you I’m not going to be that gentle. Now…OPEN.”, he growled. 

He tried to remain steadfast but when your lips enveloped him, Eddie couldn’t help but groan allowing Steve to slide into his awaiting mouth. Releasing him from his hold, the officer balanced his hands above his boyfriend’s head as he thrust into him as you lightly mewled at the feeling of Eddie’s palms petting your hair. 

“Fuck. That’s it. Keep that sassy fucking mouth open for me.”

Coming around to their front, you help Steve remove his shirt before leaning down beside Eddie’s forehead to tenderly move his hair away from his face. Even though they were upset, both men sighed at the action. You were a nice contrast to their rough lifestyle, not just when you played but in their relationship as well. 

“Eddie, please, there’s another way we can do this without people getting hurt.”

Wrapping his arms around his waist, the gangster flipped the officer over and you slid back a bit to allow them to wrestle. You noticed immediately that a lot of Eddie’s fight had decreased especially when Steve’s back hit the wall as he circled his legs around him, locking the long-haired boy in a position that had him thrown over his lap on his stomach with his ass exposed. 

Gripping his wrists again in one hand, the other free one came down hard on his behind making Eddie groan. 

“She’s talking to you and she’s right, Ed.” Squirming against his hold, Steve’s hand came down again. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?!”

“FUCK YOU!”

His deep, authoritative voice startled you but not his partner as his palm came down once more before sucking on two of his fingers and sliding them into his entrance. 

“Are you trying to prove something? Everyone already knows you’re a badass to be feared if needed.” Eddie moaned as Steve’s fingers tapped that spot inside of him that drove him crazy. “You keep saying it’s a respect thing but I don’t believe you. People respect you except that fucking, preppy moron but that’s one man. We don’t need to kill a bunch of people to prove a point to him.”

Steve spanked him again as he mused.

“Is it me?”, you asked in a small voice that makes Eddie’s head hang as his hair blocks his face. “Is it because of what we talked about…about how I’m another vulnerability?”

“I won’t allow anyone to fucking hurt you.”, he grumbled as his eyes shot up to meet yours. “Anyone.”

With incredible force, Steve pushed him off his lap and rose to his feet, pulling up his pants, and collecting you in his arms before carrying you up the stairs to the bedroom. 

“Grab anything you may need, honey. We’re going to my place.”

“You have a place?”

“Yeah. Can’t really have it on record that I live with a gangster.”, he chuckles, his face hardening as Eddie enters the room. “You promised me that you wouldn’t let your feelings for me affect what you did out there. We agreed that extended to her when we decided to bring her into our world. If you really want to fucking burn down Hawkins to show the city that we are yours then we’ll remove ourselves from the fucking equation. Oh, and she’s not a vulnerability. Personally, I think she’s one of our strengths. One of the few fucking positive things about us and in our lives.”

“Why do you think I’m trying to protect her?!”

“EXCUSE ME! But haven’t I protected you two?!”, you angrily spit towards Eddie. “You I’ve saved twice, remember? I don’t NEED you to protect me. I can protect myself just fine. I like knowing I have you two there for me though. I…I make myself vulnerable FOR you. That doesn’t mean I’m weak. I’m not afraid of Jason Carver. If anything, I’m more afraid of you right now and what you might do.”

Eddie let out a heavy sigh as his palm flew up to his chest. Taking a hold of your hand, Steve led you past the brokenhearted gangster and out the front door.

##############

Grinning softly, you took in the new dwelling Steve had brought you to. It was a modest, brick interior, studio apartment on the fifth floor of a complex that had a good view of the city. The walls were pretty much bare except for the couple of pictures of sports cars and near his bed his certificate of graduation from the police academy. In the corner, he had set up a little gym area with weights and a treadmill with the same fantasy book off to the side that you remembered on Eddie’s nightstand. 

When you flashed it to him questioningly, he smiled. 

“Eddie loves that crap. Whenever he babbles about it, I at least want to know what he’s talking about.” 

On his nightstand, he placed his badge and gun right beside the medication you prescribed him making you beam when you see he had been following your instructions. Beside his lamp and phone charger was a framed photo of him and Eddie different from the one the gangster had. In his photo, Eddie was on a kitchen counter somewhere with his legs reaching to wrap around Steve’s waist as his ringed fingers tugged at the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. Their lips were inches apart, noses just barely touching as Steve smirked down at him. 

“We need to get a picture of you so we both can have one.”

“Does it worry you? Like if you invite a friend over who’s on the force and they see that?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t know if you noticed but I’m kind of an asshole. I don’t have many friends.”, he laughs breathily as he runs his fingers through his hair and takes a seat beside you.  “The friends I do have know about us. If I ever go somewhere work related or with any of the other officers I usually go to their places. And of course, I’m the only cop that goes to his place so…”

Your own fingers tenderly reach out to caress his cheek and run down his muscular back making him sigh as he closes his eyes. 

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah… I’m just…I’m just worried. I really don’t want him to this.”

“Would you genuinely take him in like you said?”

“I would. Which means I would most likely get arrested to.” Opening his eyes, he glances your way seeing the slight confusion as he continues. “If I just brought him, it wouldn’t be enough. I’d have to tell them how I knew it was him and then everything else but…at least he’d be safe. Unless they send him to the same place his dad is at…Fuck.”, he groans as he rubs his palms over his face.

“What would happen to me?”

His head abruptly turned at your question as he became more serious. 

“Nothing, baby. I promise. You’d be safe. Eddie has people that would watch over you for us and of course anything else you may need they can get it.”

“I need you two.”, you cry as your head hangs. “I like you both so much… I don’t want to lose you.” Steve’s arm shot out to pull you to him so he could hold you tightly to his chest. “God, what is wrong with me? I’ve never been this, I don’t know, clingy before.”

“We tend to have that effect on women.” He laughs and pretends to flinch when you pull away to lightly slap his arm. “Does it bother you? I mean do you like it?”

“I do. It scares me a little bit sometimes. Eddie says we’re his vulnerabilities but for me…being open like this…in that particular headspace… Most men are always intimidated by me when they first meet me and lately I struggled to get past that first date. My last relationship…didn’t end well…so I put all my energy into finishing my PhD and working.”

“I can understand that. I did the same thing after my last relationship. It’s part of the reason I had the balls to go after Eddie. I did so much reconnaissance and sleuthing that I thought I had enough to bring in the leader of a mafia gang. He, uh, wasn’t what I thought he would be.”

“Kind?”

“Goofy. He told me a dad joke that made me laugh. By the time we got near the station, I didn’t want to let him go. Over the past 10 months, I’ve learned how sweet, nerdy, and adorable he can be.”

“I learned the same thing about you.” Steve scrunched his nose as he laughed at you. “I did. You were a bit of a jerk and I thought you hated me.”

“I told you I’m a jerk!”, he grinned till you both calmed down and he tenderly petted your head. “No, baby, I didn’t hate you.”

A knock on the door had you both more alert as he placed his finger over his mouth in a shushing motion while he reached for his weapon. Rising to your feet in preparation, you watched as he slowly moved towards the sound, exhaling after looking through his peephole.

Lowering his weapon, he opens the door to a disgruntled Eddie who barges through and throws his leather jacket on the couch, his face instantly softening when he sees yours. 

“Why are you crying? Is everything ok?”

You wipe your face as he hurries towards you, giving you a once over as you nod.

“Yeah, Eddie. I’m ok. We were just talking about you…how much we care about you.”

“Why are you here, Munson? Don’t you have a massacre to dictate?”

Blinking, he readjusts himself so he can address you both. 

“Steve, when you showed up at my door after Carver’s guys jumped you, it scared the hell out of me. You were in so much pain and…”, his voice cracks before clearing his throat as he continues. “I remember what it was like having the shit kicked out of me and the fact that someone had the balls to do that to someone I love; someone that’s mine. I saw red. When Jason showed up at her work threatening to do the same…Baby, I lost my fucking mind.”

“Clearly.”, Steve chided, sighing when you flashed him a stern look. “She’s not just yours, you know. It’s not solely on you to watch out for her. You don’t think when I saw him pressing up against her and calling her a whore I didn’t want to shoot that motherfucker then and there? You’re also mine, Eddie, and if I have to arrest you to keep you alive…” 

“Are you still going to go through with it? Going after Jason?”, you ask, relief washing over you when he folds his arms and shakes his head. 

“You both were right. There are other ways we can attack him without innocent people getting hurt.” The gangster’s beautiful chocolate hues glance towards you. “I’m sorry I scared you.” As your arms wrap around him, he exhales heavily into your hair as his fingers cling to you. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s ok—”

“No, it’s not.”, he scolds himself as he tilts your head back to look at him. “Don’t you ever let either of us get away with bullshit like that. It’s one thing to dominate you. It’s another to frighten you. We don’t want to do that with you.”

“So, what I’m hearing, Edward Munson, is that you need to be punished.”, Steve teases causing the other man’s eyes to playfully narrow as he bows towards his boyfriend extending his arms on either side. 

“I’m all yours, Officer.”

“Hm.”

Grinning, he steps forward, placing himself directly in front of him before forcefully turning him to face you as he pats him down. 

“God this feels so vaguely familiar.”

“Because it’s been done so many times in the past?”

“Only by you, baby.”

Steve’s face hardens as he spanks the man in front of him as he leans over his shoulder to whisper in his ear.

“Stop talking. You’re in a lot of trouble.” 

You watch with intense desire as his palm glides over the gangster’s pockets and reroutes around to the bulge in his slacks. Eddie groans as he licks his lips, his hips slightly grinding to find more friction.

“Too bad you were a bad little boy. We could have been sucking you cock right now or you could be sinking it into her tight, wet pussy. But no… you had to play big man in Hawkins, didn’t you?” When his boyfriend doesn’t answer, he spanks him again. “Didn’t you?”

“Ah, fuck. Yes.”

Abruptly grabbing his wrists, Steve handcuffs them behind Eddie’s back, guiding him towards his mattress, and tossing him stomach first onto his bed. 

“Can you do me a favor, sweet girl?”

Stepping closer to him, you allow him to murmur instructions to you making you nod before lightly kissing his lips. After completely disrobing, you climb on to the bed in front of Eddie and per the officer’s instructions, open your legs wide for him to see.

“Fuck, angel. You’re so fucking beautiful.”, he compliments in a strained tone as the other man reached underneath him to remove the gangster pants and boxers. 

“Yeah? You like my pussy, baby?” Scooting a bit closer to him, you bite your bottom lip and grin as he nods, tilting his head to kiss your inner thigh. As his kisses trail further up towards your legs, you push yourself back, denying him what he desperately wants. “Oh, I’m sorry. Officer Harrington said you weren’t allowed.”

Steve smirks over his shoulder as he listens to Eddie whine while hanging his head.

“No, hey, keep your eyes on her.”, he scolds, gripping his jaw and forcing his head up.

The long-haired boy groans as your fingers glide effortlessly through your folds, the sound of your wetness making him harder as he tries to relieve the pressure by rutting into the mattress. His boyfriend roughly loops his arms through his own, bringing his back to his chest as he guides his cock into his entrance. 

“Fuck, baby, that’s it.”

You had never really been privy to seeing them be sexually intimate and you never initiated any of that in the bedroom. You wanted them to feel comfortable especially since you were the newcomer to the relationship and dynamic. Seeing them now as Steve slammed his hips into Eddie’s, lifting and holding his upper half with his arms alone as the gangster practically drooled mewling his name; it was the sexist thing you had ever seen. 

A small cry left your throat as you pushed two of your fingers into your needy hole.

“Aw, look what you’re doing to her, honey. She wants your mouth in her cunt so bad. I bet you do to, huh?”

“I-I—fuck—I’m sorry.”, he sighed exasperatingly. 

“I’m sure you are.” Pulling out, he smacked his ass before bouncing on to the bed on his back and man handling his boyfriend till he was positioned over his cock. “You better ride my dick fucking hard.” Holding the base, both men moaned as he lowered himself on to his firm length and did what he commanded. “Mmm—fuck—come here, Y/N.”

After crawling over to him, he tugged your arm and shifted your body till you were sitting directly on his face. 

“I got you, baby.”

Steve wasted no time, his fingers digging into your thighs as his thick, masterful tongue went to work. Eddie watched you both with glassy, lust filled eyes as he bounced and grinded on the man he loved. Leaning towards him, you couldn’t help but capture his lips and was surprised when the officer allowed it. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really am. Fuck, his cock feels so fucking good.”

“I forgive you, Eddie. I forgive you. YES! Steve, please. I need him.”

His hold around you tightened as he shook his head between your legs, his lips making obscene slurping sounds as he flicked his tongue against your clit at an overwhelming pace. 

Panting, your body trembled as you came as his tongue continued with its assault, elongating your high. After a soft kiss to your thigh and a firm tap of your ass, you climbed off him, waiting for instruction. Sitting up, he grabbed Eddie’s cheeks and kissed him passionately making the gangster groan at the taste of you on his boyfriend’s mouth. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. You know how I am sometimes.”

“Hot headed? Stubborn? A pain in my ass?” They both chuckled softly, the officer running his thumb along his lips. “We talk to each other right? Figure things out together.”

“Yeah, baby, we do.”

“ALL of us. That includes her now. She makes us stronger.”

“Yeah, she does.”, Eddie smiled as he glanced your way wishing he could touch you. 

Giving him one final kiss, Steve leans back and pats his lower stomach. 

“Come here, honey.” Taking his hand, you let him direct you till you were straddling him with the other man’s cock teasing your pussy lips. “You’ll have to slide back on him but he should be able to do the rest.”

Nodding your head, you reach behind you to hold his length as you guide him inside of you. 

“Oh my fucking God.”, Eddie growls as you mewl at the stretch. 

Steve’s large palms grip your hips as his boyfriend start’s bouncing and thrusting his own. 

“Does that feel good, Y/N?”

“S-So good.”

“Shit. You’re both so fucking sexy That’s it. Just let go and take it like a good girl.”

Your breasts hang perfectly in front of his face and when his mouth attaches to your nipple, your pussy clenches around Eddie making him whimper as he picks up his pace. 

“Please, Eddie. Make me cum.”

As he does his best to honor your request while restrained, Steve licks his thumb and massages your clit driving you crazy as you push up and lean against the gangster’s chest. You feel him grunt into your shoulder as he releases inside of you, you following as you moan his name into the ceiling. After lightly spanking you, you collapse to the side and watch as Eddie falls forward knowing the man he loves will be there as Steve cups his cheeks and thrusts roughly upwards chasing his own high. 

“That’s it, Eddie, baby. Take it, take it, take it. That’s my good boy. Fuck.”

They both groan as the man underneath him thrusts his spend deep inside of him, his mouth falling open as he pants against his lips. 

“I love you so much, Steven, fuck. I love you.”

As the gangster croons into his neck and they continue to whisper admiration for each other, you tip toe towards the officer’s set of keys and quietly reappear to free him. His palms promptly come to pet the boy’s head, kissing his forehead before playfully wrapping his arms around you and dragging you over Steve to place you between them.

A warm feeling washes over you as both men roll on to their side to nuzzle their noses against your cheeks as they hold you. 

You aren’t sure when you fell asleep or for how long but the strong, delicious smell of pasta caused your eyes to flutter open. Eddie was still knocked out beside you but due to the small space you could see Steve with his bare back to you in sweats at the stove. One of his shirts had been placed by the bed and you smiled as you slid it on, shuffling towards him. 

“Hey you. I’m making dinner if you’re hungry.” His grin grows when you nod, turning his attention back to his sizzling pan. Hopping up, on to the nearby stool by his counter, you notice a file with Jason’s name on it.

“May I?”

Glancing that way, he hesitates for only a moment before giving his approval. 

The file itself was thick with photos and notes of Carver’s gang showing that the officer really did take his job seriously as you browsed through the details. Kind of like Eddie his father passed the reigns to his son Jason but unlike him, his father was still out and walking freely. He seemed to still have a bit of sway when it came to the clan itself but otherwise he trusted his son. He had been running things for a couple of years before Eddie took over and due to the change Steve noted a few things you found disturbing.

“Hey. Put that down and try this.”  You smile as he holds a spoon to your lips and he beams with pride when make a tiny yum noise as he turns back around. “My mom was actually a pretty good cook. She taught me a thing or two.”

“Jesus Christ, it smells good in here.”, Eddie announced, grabbing a desk chair and sliding obnoxiously loud over to you two making you laugh. While tilting up to kiss you, he yanks the file from your grasp. “Bad Officer Harrington. Letting her snoop.”

“She’s not snooping. She asked and I said it was alright.”

“I’m glad you’re not going after him, Ed. There’s some things in there…”

“Yeah. Jason Carver is a prick. I’m surprised his dad lets him get away with half the shit he does but unless George Carver deems you worthy so to speak he doesn’t give a damn.”

Your head shot up as an idea hit you. 

“Wait a second, Hawkins does a charity thing every year where the wealthy show up to throw money at causes to make them feel better about themselves.”

“Yeah, my parents go to that.”, Steve replied with a hint of sarcasm you didn’t miss. 

“My dad was always invited but never went. He never felt the need to pretend to be a good man.”

“But that’s why I never went. I had heard that the head of the Carver’s attended.” They both continue to stare at you with confused eyes causing you to let out a frustrated sigh as you rise to your feet. “The sponsors of that party have funds for Hawkins medical funds but the bulk of it goes to that general hospital. I’m still always invited…if I wanted to mingle with the donors…make an impression… Come on, guys.”

“Honey, just say what’s on your mind.”

“I can go with Eddie and we can talk to Jason’s dad. Maybe somehow convince him to get his son to leave us alone.”

They exchange a look before the gangster finally speaks. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, that means you’d have be seen with me and not just by the Carvers. My team, a few of our friends, and apparently Jason somehow knows about Steve but otherwise he’s hidden. If we go to this event with you on my arm, EVERYONE will know.”

“Including the police, baby. Which means you could have more eyes on you and pressure pushed when it comes to him.”

Your head hangs as you fiddle with your fingers. 

“I would never turn you over or tell them anything. I swear…”

“No, honey.”, Steve quickly explains. “We aren’t worried about that. We just don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Of course, we can protect you in that regard from getting into any kind of legal trouble.”

“Your family and friends will have something to say—”

“I don’t have much family and I work 24/7 so I don’t have time for friends. Honestly, the only thing I care about is that clinic, my patients, and you two.” The genuinely smile at that last bit making you blush. “I do. I care about you very much. It’s been a long time since I felt like I wasn’t just coasting through life. These past couple of weeks I’ve really enjoyed having someone to talk to, to hold me, even just hear someone tell me I’m fucking beautiful.”

Eddie gets to his feet and tenderly kisses your lips.

“You are beautiful, angel. Ok, I need to take you shopping so we can get you a new dress.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t HAVE to. I want to.”, he grins. “We need to go over some rules and things if we are going to pull this off. “

“I can come to. Since my parents are attending, it wouldn’t be odd for me to be there and I can keep an eye on you two.”

“My knight in shining handcuffs and a holster gun.” Steve sticks out his tongue as Eddie giggles like a little kid. “Alright, princess, this won’t be the last time I ask but are you sure you want to do this?”

Your gaze shifts between them as a heavy sigh exits from your lungs. 

“I’m sure.”

###############

@5tud10-54r4h @munsonzgf @eddiesguitarskills @supraveng

@lilaclazer @ima1986 @micheledawn1975 @foreverminliv @corkadymu

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @joannamuns9n @dashingdeb16 @sashaphantomhive

#steddie #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #fan fiction #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #mafia!eddie munson #officer!Steve harrington #steddie x reader #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #steddie angst

[megamindsecretlair]

Foolish

*Heed warnings*

Pairing: Jatemme Manning x Bratty!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. PWP, Filth, cursing, PIV, size kink, mentions of violence, gun use, drug use, brat reader. Reader does get turned on by violence, if this disturbs you click away. All consensual. Established relationship. Heavy use of n-word.

Summary: You are tired of being Jatemme's arm candy. Forever guarded and without 100% of his attention. As the race for Alderman heats up, you're at a fundraising event when you grow bored and decide to test Jatemme's devotion.

Word Count: 3,494k

A/N: I was a little unhinged writing this, so it was written in a bit of a daze. Please let me know what ya'll think about this one. I can't find the ask where people expressed interest so don't be mad at me if I didn't tag you! I'm sorry! I'm also not married to the moodboard, so it might change. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blowmymbackout @browngirldominion @sageispunk @harmshake @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @blackerthings

You were bored. Just because you told your man to leave you alone, didn’t mean you actually wanted him to do it. Why couldn’t niggas ever listen? What’s so hard to understand? “Leave you alone” obviously meant to give you attention?

You were at a fancy event for Jatemme’s brother, Jamal, who was running for Alderman. Snooze fest. Jatemme promised that you weren’t going to be here long. That you’d only have to sit like a doll for an hour tops, before he took you shopping and out to eat.

One hour turned to three and you were still sitting at Jamal’s table, surrounded by Jatemme’s crew while Jamal and Jatemme did business. You scanned the room for your man but didn’t find him. 

You did see Jamal who was hard to miss. He was the type to walk into the room like he owned it and as if everyone owed him money for it. Jatemme was quieter, but deadlier. He instantly drew you in with his sleepy eyes, soft umber skin, and intense presence. His darkness called to something within you and never let go. 

The relationship wasn’t without its up and downs. You liked to keep him on his toes. Get him to have a little fun. He always followed in Jamal’s shadow when it was Jatemme that did most of the work. Most of the planning. Most of the ideas. 

You sighed, loudly once more, and turned briefly to your table to sip your nasty ass champagne. Fucking politicians. Pretending like they weren’t all into something dirty, getting over on the little guy. Namely Black folk. 

Jatemme’s crew gave you funny looks. They knew better than to touch you or stare too hard. But you often caught them looking at your body and your too short dresses. They also hated your attitude. Jatemme made you swear to stop messing with them. It was hard to find good help when you were constantly flirting with them and he was constantly killing them over it.

Maybe that was Jatemme’s problem. Now that Jamal was running for Alderman, there was a public scrutiny on the family business. Jatemme doesn’t have free rein to do as he pleased now. Go wherever he wanted. Do whatever he wanted. 

You sighed once more and checked your phone. You texted your best friends in your group chat, that you were bored and in desperate need of fun.  Misty immediately texted you back and told you to meet them at a club not too far from there. That was exactly what you needed. 

You looked over at the crew of four burly men and stood up. One of the them, Martin, stood up as well prepared to follow you. “No need, Marty, I’m just going to the little girl’s room,” you said and smiled sweetly. 

Martin gave you a blank stare. He adjusted the suit jacket over his thick arms and put his hands in his pockets. “You know the rules,” he said. 

You kept your sweet smile, knowing that your lips were glossed just so to catch the light overhead. That your champagne colored dress hugged your figure just right. The night was young and you were wasting it by being arm candy. 

“You gonna follow me into the bathroom and hold my purse too? I don’t think Jay would like that,” you sang. 

Martin looked towards the other men who looked everywhere but at him. They did not want that particular smoke. Decisions, decisions. Martin cleared his throat. “Come right back,” he said. 

You smiled. “Of course. You all act like I’m not an angel,” you said. The men wisely didn’t comment. You turned and sashayed out of the room, already done with the entire night. You didn’t see your man and you didn’t care at the moment. 

You waited until you left the hotel ballroom before pulling out your phone. You ordered an Uber on your way out to the front. People from the reception had spilled out into the hallway, discussing things that they didn’t want others overhearing, even by accident. 

You passed by stick figure women in dark red, blue, or black dresses, pointy shoes, and stiff upper lips. You passed by men in their penguin suits, pretending to give a shit. The total wealth combined in the room could help everyone in the Ward but they held onto it like gremlins. 

It made you sick.

You went outside, shivering slightly from the bite of cold. When your Uber arrived, you didn’t even look back towards the hotel. It was almost criminal how easy it was to slip your chains. Further proof that this shit was getting stale and you might be headed towards another break from Jatemme. Let him sit and stew over what he would miss before he came crawling back with gifts, kisses, and that big dick of his. 

You grinned as you texted Misty that you were on your way. She texted back with plenty of emojis, some of them skulls, because she already knew that Jatemme was going to blow his lid. Let him.

It didn’t take long to reach the rougher areas of Chicago. Almost literally down the street from the glitterati, the houses weren’t as nice. The grass not so green. Fences and bars on the windows. Corner boys selling dope in baggy jeans and oversized T-shirts. 

The club was set back from the street to allow for a little more parking. You got out and Misty met you outside. She hugged you with many squeals and jumping up and down. “Slipped the doom patrol?” She asked. 

Misty was gorgeous, with deep, dark skin and microbraids twisted into two buns atop her head. She was a thick, curvy girl who was always quick with a laugh. She immediately ushered you inside. You turned off your phone. Make Jay sweat a little bit. 

You spent the entire night dancing with your girls and getting drunk on your favorite drink. All of the songs were hitting, back to back. A mix of 2000s and 2010s music. The good shit that demanded you dance right this instant. 

Plenty of dusty ass niggas tried to pull you into a dance and you pushed them all away. It cost to put hands on you. It cost to be in your presence. Ain’t nobody getting shit for free. 

By the time the club called for last drinks, you were tapped out. You were not wearing the proper shoes for dancing in the club. You were shocked that you lasted as long as you did. And yeah, you missed your man. You were a little drink, a lot horny, and you just wanted to be fucked at this point and put to sleep. 

You walked out, hanging onto your friends. One of them, Kiki, was the lightweight. She was dragged between two friends while she muttered something. You giggled and walked with them to their car. 

Rounding the corner, there were a group of guys passing a joint between them. They wolf-whistled as you passed by. One of them sure was fine. Tall, bald, with a thick luscious beard that covered the lower half of his face. You wondered what he’d look like with your juices dripping from it. 

You didn’t condone cheating. But if you were on a break…

You smiled at him as you passed, tossing your hair over your shoulders. “Gahh damn, lil mama, where you headed?” He asked.

You giggled and kept walking with your girls. It was nice to be wanted. You turned your phone on while your friends tried to get Kiki into the car and not entertaining the men by the building. 

As it turned on, messages flew in with loud dings and flashes across your screen. You had…quite a lot of missed calls from Jatemme. Angry texts too. You appreciated that he never called you out of your name when he was angry, but he had plenty of other colorful ways to show his displeasure. Like calling you by your real name. Ew. 

He was good and pissed that you left. That your phone was off. He promised hell, fire, and damnation when he finally caught up to you. You pictured him driving around fuming. His sleepy eyes narrowed even further. The cute way his nostrils would flare and the vein that pulsed in his neck. 

You were getting wet just thinking about it. The sex would be immaculate tonight. You sighed dreamily as you went through his unhinged text messages. 

“Bitch! Help? Hello?” Misty called out. You giggled and moved towards the car, pushing at Kiki’s big ass head to get into the car. Misty slammed the door in her face and sighed as if she’d been wrestling a bear. 

She faced you with a small grin before her eyes darted behind you. The sexy bald headed man approached you, licking his lips and looking you up and down. He held out his hand when he was near enough. 

“I had to come introduce myself,” he said.

“I appreciate that. But I’m too high-maintenance for you, boo,” you said. You flirted with the idea of being responsible for another man’s death, but he was too cute to sacrifice for your own dastardly enjoyment. There were so few, gorgeous Black men these days. The 90s had all the fine men. They were long gone now. God just wasn’t building them like that no more. 

“I like a little high-maintenance,” he said. 

You laughed. Said no man ever. “I’m the type to empty accounts,” you said and smiled. 

“I got several. Pick one,” he said. He looked you in the eye as he said it and made you reevaluate him as a whole. He was dressed nice in dark plaid slacks, black polo, with a big watch on his wrist. Nothing too flashy, but enough that it convinced you he wasn’t another broke nigga. 

You were considering his offer, wondering how you could prove that he was for real and not just trying to get into your panties. Squealing tires tore your gaze away from the man as you saw Jatemme’s truck flip a bitch into oncoming traffic and speed into the parking lot. 

“Shit. You better run before my man catch you talking to me,” you said, though he probably already saw you. 

“I ain’t scared,” the man said. Bless his little heart. 

“Nigga, I’m trynna protect you. Leave, now,” you said, shooing him away from you and your girls. Maybe you could convince Jatemme that the man was trying to flirt with Misty. You turned behind you, but Misty held her hands up.

“I ain’t trynna die for your Black ass,” she said. 

“Bitch!” You screamed, but you couldn’t stay serious for long. You grinned and shook your head. Before the truck had a chance to come to a full stop, Jatemme and crew hopped out, grabbing guns from their waistbands. 

“They got guns!” Someone called out. The parking lot emptied with a speed only achieved in the hood. Too many people who knew the consequences of a stray bullet and weren’t trying to lose their lives over it. Some brave souls remained, peeking behind cars and around the building into the additional parking in the alleyway.

You couldn’t help it. Your thighs tingled. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Jatemme climb out of the driver’s seat with that slow, menacing gait of his. His eyes were glued on you as he walked towards you.

The cutie remained, like he would really stand in front of a bullet for you. You couldn’t give him any more warnings. You couldn’t save him from his own stupidity. Jatemme stopped a few feet in front of you.

His face was deceptively calm. He crossed his arms in front of him, Glock on display. His crew formed a formidable wall behind him. Martin sported a darkening bruise on his cheek and you only felt slightly bad for getting him into trouble. At least he was still alive. That was something. 

You bit your lip and giggled nervously. “Hi, baby,” you said. 

“Did he touch you?” Jatemme asked. His voice. God, you could listen to that voice recite the dictionary and you’d listen to every word. 

You shifted your footing. “Nope. Never seen this man before,” you said.

“Aye, if you’re in trouble…” The man said. Martin, being the closest, lifted his gun into the man’s face. The gun was pressed to his temple and the man audibly gulped. 

“Did he touch you?” Jatemme asked once more.

You looked him in the eye. “No.” 

“Get the fuck out of here,” Jatemme said to the man. The man looked at you, but you knew better than to acknowledge his presence. You heard his friends calling for him, telling him not to be a hero, not to lose his life over some bitch. 

The man backed away, keeping his eye on Martin and the shiny gun in his face. Jatemme jerked his head and you sighed, following behind him. If he was going to take you away, he was beyond angry. Maybe you actually worried him this time. That wasn’t your intention. You wanted to scare him a little, not worry him. 

You waved goodbye to your friends. They shot you alarmed glances, but you told them that Jatemme never raised a hand to you. Never. He liked getting his revenge in other ways.

He opened the door for you and you climbed into the front seat. He got into the driver’s seat, peeling away from the club so fast, he probably sprayed everyone with rocks and gravel. He didn’t speak. He drove through the quiet streets, heading back towards the hotel you escaped from.

“Baby–”

Jatemme held up a hand like he didn’t want to hear it. You bit your lip. You really stepped in it now. Was it bad that you were turned on? Punishment shouldn’t be this exciting and yet, your mind raced through what he had planned. How he was going to show that he cared for you. 

He pulled to the front of the hotel and tossed the valet his keys. The gun was tucked away into his jeans. Fancy events didn’t mean he had to be the one who dressed up. He did have a clean, sky blue shirt buttoned to the very top. He opened the door and let you out. 

He didn’t speak while he pushed you inside, the event well and truly over by now. He didn’t speak as you rode the elevator in crushing silence and velvet flooring muffling your heels. He didn’t speak as he got out onto the twelfth floor, leading you to a suite you didn’t know he got for the night. 

Once inside, you gasped. There was a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket. Low lighting made the room glow like looking through a piece of glass at twilight. “You did all this for me?” You asked.

“If you would have behaved yourself,” he said.

The suite was big enough to have a full living room with couches and armchairs, shiny mahogany coffee table, and a wide screen TV. Behind a set of double doors, there was a bed already turned down, waiting for you to climb in. 

You pouted. Your man was so sweet sometimes, it made your heart ache. He didn’t always show this softer side. The side that liked snuggling up to trashy movies late at night, snacking in bed, and enjoying each other’s company. 

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” He asked. His voice was barely above a whisper. Enough to get his point across. You truly had worried him. 

You turned to him with an apology on your lips but he was already invading your space. He grabbed your face and pulled you into a rough kiss, slanting his lips across yours as if he meant to stake a claim. Prove a point. You belonged to him. There was no way of getting out of it. No way of running. 

You gripped onto him tightly. “I hate when you worry me like that,” he said. 

“You promised,” you whined. 

His lips returned to kissing you, looking for the zipper on your side to unzip you from the dress. When he couldn’t find it, he began to rip it with his bare hands. “Hey!”

“I’ll buy you more,” he said. His lips returned to kissing you. More like possessing you. He kissed you like he wanted to meld your bodies together to keep you by his side. This was what you needed. What you had been craving all night. 

Your bra and panties went next, baring you completely to him. He wasn’t in it to admire your body right now though. You knew him. He had been worrying about you all night and needed to see you. Feel you. Make sure that you really were in front of him and not a figment of his imagination. 

He turned you around and slapped your ass. You screamed out, jumping away from the sharp sting. He pushed you towards the deep gray couch and bent you over the back of it. It dug into your tummy but you were too turned on to notice the pain. 

He unzipped his zipper and freed himself with a low groan, spreading your ass cheeks and rubbing his dick through your wet folds. Your hands feebly gripped onto the couch cushings, fingers digging into the linen. 

Once his tip was good and wet, he stuffed you and you cried out from the burn of his girthy dick pushing into you. Your eyes crossed. He felt too good to contain to a single moan. You yelled out without abandon, not caring who heard you. If the neighbors complained, Jatemme would handle that too. 

His strokes were bruising, punishing, near cruel as he slammed into you over and over. “You and this fucking attitude gon’ kill me,” he groaned. His fingers grabbed hold of your hips and slammed you back onto his dick. Like his strokes weren’t enough. Like you weren’t moving fast enough for him.

“Oh baby, oh fuck–I’m sorry!” You cried out.

“No, you not,” he said. No, you were not. You’d do everything all over again if he meant that his attention was back on you. That his hands were back on you. That his dick was inside you, spearing you, driving you to new pleasures each and every time. 

Your feet were scrambling for purchase. He didn’t care. He fucked you like you were no more than a toy to stick his dick in. One hand reached behind you to push against his chest. His shirt slipped between you so he lifted it and brought his flesh flush with yours. Then, he grabbed your outstretched hand and pulled it behind you, resting on your back while he used the new position as a new anchor. His strokes grew deeper, more desperate. 

“I catch you talking to another nigga and I’ma kill him,” Jatemme whispered harshly.

“Yes, baby,” you moaned. You’d seen him kill niggas for far less. For daring to turn their neck in your direction. He once told you that if he could blind the male population of Chicago, he would. 

“Oh fuck!” You screamed out, crying through your punishing orgasm. 

Jatemme grunted in satisfaction. “That’s your first one for the night. I hope you’re keeping count,” he said. 

“Baby, wait…” You grunted between his deep thrusts. 

“Like you made me wait tonight?” He asked. He yanked on your hair, forcing you to look back at him. You stared into his eyes while he filled you up with his cum. He came with a low, grumbling moan that shook your inner walls. 

Your mouth dropped open as his dick pulsed and twitched. Your legs were jelly, kept standing by pure force by him. His will to keep you spread open for him ensured that you were a vessel for his dick. His own personal fucktoy. 

He made you cum two more times while your neck was craned, looking back into his soulful eyes. You ran out of curse words to shout to the heavens. Your eyes ached from the way they rolled. Your essence mixed with his spend dripped down your legs in a slow river that tickled your legs.  

He finally slipped out, giving you a bit of a break. You huffed, legs shaking, arms weak. He picked you up and carried you to the bed, spreading your legs open once more. He fisted his dick, jerking the length of it while he looked at your destroyed pussy leaking with his cum.

“Hope you didn’t plan on sleeping tonight,” he said with a small grin. 

You panted with a nervous giggle. He proved throughout the rest of the night just how much he missed you and made you promise not to do it again. Well, at least not anytime soon.

The end.

There will be more! The Secret Jatemme Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Jatemme Files #Jatemme x Black!reader #Jatemme x Black reader #x Black reader #Jatemme x Fem!reader #Jatemme x Fem reader #x Fem reader #Jatemme x plus size reader #Jatemme fanfic #Jatemme fan fic #Jatemme fanfiction #Jatemme fan fiction #Widows fanfic #Widows fan fic #Widows fanfiction #Widows fan fiction #Daniel Kaluuya fanfic #Daniel Kaluuya fan fiction #Daniel Kaluuya fan fic #Daniel Kaluuya fanfiction #Daniel Kaluuya

[malarign]

told you so

(when you go on a date with your enemy, and he advises you against it)

synopsis: Being a target of taunting from your enemy was your daily struggle, and when you seemed to get used to it, all of your worries disappeared when you met your new friend. but what if old feelings still didn’t pass?

contains: bff!Heeseung x fem!reader | genre: angst with a fluffy ending (requested), high school au, college au, friends to lovers | tw! mentions of food, bullying, swearing, arguing, crying, kissing and touching without consent, mentions and attempt of assault, please read at your own discretion! y/n being oblivious and delusional, basically he fell first and harder 🤩 | wc: 7,4k

author’s note: while writing this i didn’t have any specific Jisung in mind, this name just popped into my head 😬 also this was originally written to be a mini series but it didn't get much attention so i’m reposting it as a one shot :)) enjoy!

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!

original taglist: @nicholasluvbot, @simpforsunwoo, @sweetjaemss

Morning, Wednesday, 9th January 2019

You watched as Jisung and his friends emptied your school bag and all your books, notebooks, documents and other personal stuff fall on the wooden floor. All of them laughed while exchanging mean looks. Jisung came up to you, lowered his head to the level of your eyes, and smiled viciously.

“You better hurry, Y/n. I don’t think you want to be late for math class, right?” he asked sarcastically and ruffled your hair.

Trying to keep calm you watched as he wandered off to the class with the rest of the boys he hangs out with. You looked at all the things he threw on the floor and sighed. He never seemed to let you breathe peacefully and lavished you with his nasty comments. Both of you used to be great friends back in middle school, but then he got into a pretty bad environment and became your worst nightmare. Every class you had with him was hours of suffering. You often thought about old times, wondering if there was a way to prevent this.

Crouching down to pick your stuff up you heard how the sound of steps behind you echoed in an empty hallway. You turned your head around to see who was coming. You tried really hard to recognize his face, but you didn’t think you had ever seen him.

“Hi,” he said. His lips slightly parted as he watched your belongings on the floor. “Let me help you.”

He crouched next to you and helped you gather your books and notebooks as you collected smaller items. He neatly put them into your bag and helped you stand up from a not-really-comfortable position.

“Thank you, I really appreciate your help.” You smiled and once more scanned his face to be sure you’d ever seen him.

“I’m Heeseung by the way. I’m new here,” he spoke as he offered his hand to greet you.

“Oh, I was wondering why I couldn’t recognize you.” You smiled sheepishly. “My name’s Y/n.”

Noon, Friday, 17th May 2019

You and Heeseung clicked almost immediately. Both of you had similar hobbies and musical tastes. Since your favorite subjects were his problem and vice versa you helped each other with homework and exam preparations, usually in the calm setting of your local library. He didn’t have problems settling into a new environment. Quite quickly he made a group of friends, bugging you to tag along every time they went out somewhere. His talent for basketball also didn’t slip by the team's coach, who didn’t waste time to make him join training.

Heeseung never failed to bring a smile to your face with his quick-witted jokes and interesting stories about his life before he moved to your city. Being with him healed you in every possible way, making thoughts of Jisung almost completely forgotten. After seeing you spend your breaks with Heeseung made him stop approaching you for some reason. Sometimes when you were alone, because he had to get something done or had different classes made you anxious. You knew that whenever he was next to you, Jisung wouldn’t do anything bad.

The bell rang announcing a long-awaited lunch break. You packed your stuff and looked at Heeseung. You opened your mouth to ask the usual question about your table, but he spoke faster.

“Coach said he needs me for a second, I’m pretty sure it won’t take long. I’ll join you as soon as I’m done, okay?” He didn’t let you say anything and just dashed away after gently patting your shoulder.

You stood there watching as he disappeared behind a corner and let out a shaky sigh. That was the first time you were going to eat lunch alone ever since you met him in March. You even considered waiting for him, just to not have to sit there alone. Then a sudden wave of confidence rushed through your body, thinking “What can go wrong? He said it’s not gonna take long.”

You made your way to the school cafeteria, looking at every student that passed by, praying none of them would belong to Jisung.

After you took your tray with a full meal you sat down at your usual table and watched the entry, nervously waiting for a familiar, friendly silhouette. What you saw was far away from that. You saw Jisung and his friend enter the cafeteria. He noticed you right away. His face showed anger, eyes sharp and fierce. His look made you quiver slightly, unable to look anywhere else. He took his tray and sat at the table behind you. You could hear every bite he took on his apple, loud cracks piercing your ears. You started to count second, wishing Heeseung would come back quickly.

Time passed and you still were sitting alone at the table. Some students finished eating while your tray was still full of food. As much as you tried eating you couldn’t muster up the energy to raise a fork to your mouth.

“Where the hell is he? What is taking him so long? He said he’ll join me.” Your thoughts were disrupted by a fine figure of a man hovering over your form. He leaned into you, his breath brushing your ear.

“Long time no see, Y/n.” His malicious tone sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel tears ready to spill out of fear. “You thought I was done with you just because you started hanging out with that asshole?” He said as he brushed away the strand of your hair. He leaned even closer to you and whispered straight to your ear: “You know I will never back off.”

“Well, maybe you should.”

You noticed Heeseung standing in front of your table.

Jisung came up to Heeseung and asked: “Or what, asshole? What you’re gonna do?” He suddenly collared him and shook his form. His actions were stopped when a loud voice echoed in the cafeteria.

“Choi Jisung!” Heeseung’s coach screamed, his voice in a humbling manner. Jisung let go of Heeseung still maintaining eye contact with him.

“I guess I don’t have to do anything in particular.” Heeseung smiled at him snidely and watched as he made his way out of the cafeteria. He then shifted his look at you who was still slightly trembling at an unexpected and not really pleasant encounter with one of your classmates.

His eyes softened looking at your form, his heart breaking from the regret of not coming to you sooner. He hesitated whether what he should do and finally rubbed your back with his palm in a comforting move. He felt as if you loosened up under his touch. Seeing you calm down he sat down next to you and tried to shift your attention from a bad experience with Jisung.

“You should eat, Y/n. I’m sure it’ll help.” He took a glance at your tray. “I know how you love that pudding,” he spoke and placed the box right in front of you making you smile.

Afternoon, Friday, 17th May 2019

“Y/n can we talk about today?” Heeseung asked. You were laying in his bed, surrounded by notes from your biology class.

You looked at him. His eyes were serious but soft at the same time. You felt bad that you didn’t tell him about your bumpy relationship with Jisung, mostly because you thought the problem solved itself when you met him. But today’s events successfully proved you wrong.

“About what?” You played for time.

“About Jisung and what happened in the cafeteria.” He got straight to the point. He moved his chair to be right in front of you. “Why didn’t you tell me he bullies you?”

“Because he doesn’t,” you simply stated shifting your gaze back to your notes. Somehow word ‘bully’ made your ego ache. You weren’t bullied, at least that’s what you said to yourself.

“Well his action said something else,” he firmly said making you snap.

“What do you know, Heeseung? You don’t know him at all, yet you’re accusing him of bullying.”

Your response took him aback. “Y/n you were literally trembling at his touch and the sound of his voice. Fuck it, you were almost crying!”

“No, I wasn’t!”

“Y/n don’t act like I’m blind. Besides, I know you well.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you said and rapidly got up, gathering your notes into your bag and storming out of his room. Heeseung watched your irrational actions in utter shock. Why were you so offended? Even you didn’t know why you overreacted like that. Maybe it was because of your past friendship with Jisung? Maybe you still believed he would change for the better, and you would happily be friends like you used to be? Or maybe you would be more than friends like you always dreamt?

You walked downstairs and hurriedly started to put on your shoes. Just when you were about to go out you heard your friend’s mom.

“Y/n? You’re leaving so early?” She asked. “I’m preparing your favorite, kimchi fried rice.” She smiled warmly.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Lee, but I need to go early today.” You felt bad lying to her, she always treated you like a daughter making sure you were never hungry whenever you hung with Heeseung. “Have a great evening!” You quickly said closing the front door behind you.

Even though it was the middle of May, the weather was rather chilly. You still had your school uniform on, your short skirt not warming you up enough.

“Y/n!” You heard Heeseung’s voice behind you. Hesitating if you should stop or run straight to your house you finally stopped your tracks. Even if you ran he would easily catch up.

You turned around and soon, Heeseung stopped in front of you, breathing heavily from his jog. You let him catch a breath and didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you mad.”

You thought for a while, you really wanted to stay mad at him for a while, but as hard as you tried, you just couldn’t. You lowered your gaze and replied: “It’s okay. I know you meant well. But you don’t need to worry about me.” You assured.

Your answer didn’t seem to satisfy him, but he remained silent. He opened his arms, offering a conciliatory hug, which you gladly accepted.

“I should go home now,” you announced, still in his embrace.

“Can I walk you home?” he asked, knowing your answer.

“I think I would rather go by myself today. Thanks though.” You slowly pulled out from his arms and waved your hand in goodbye.

Heeseung watched you walk for a while. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything you said. Your words clenched his heart, almost making him tear up. He knew one thing: he definitely will worry about you, and won’t let this happen ever again.

Evening, Saturday, 1st June 2019

“Y/n! Heeseung is already here!” Your mom shouted from downstairs as you did the final touches to your hairstyle.

“I’m coming!” you shouted and hurriedly took your purse. Skipping your way to the hallway you saw Heeseung with a small bouquet in his hands as he talked with your mom with a warm smile. She noticed your presence first.

“Y/n come here quickly.” She gestured for you to stand next to Heeseung. “Let’s take a photo. Make a pose.”

Both of you tried different poses for the photo, from the normal ones to your usual, funny ones. After a short photo shoot, you made your way to Heeseung’s car and drove to have fun at prom.

You arrived at school quite late, as other students were already dancing in the hall. You were about to get out of his car when he stopped you with a soft hand motion. You were slightly confused but all the concern disappeared when you saw his jog around the car to your side. He opened the door gallantly and offered his hand.

“Wow, so chivalry is really not dead, huh?” you remarked and smiled at him while getting out.

“Y/n, I’m afraid you forgot who I am.” He placed his hand on his heart with an injured look on his face.

“Lee Heeseung, I envy your future girlfriend, whoever she is,” you said and made your way toward the other students.

Heeseung watched as you go with dreamy eyes and a moony smile. He couldn’t stop thinking about how gorgeous you looked tonight ever since he laid his eyes on you at your house. And not only today, the day he met you he never thought you’ll get so close and make him fall not only for your looks but charming personality, versatile knowledge, and full of empathy heart. “Hopefully you won’t have to envy her,” he thought to himself planning on confessing his feelings for you today.

When you entered the hall, your ears were pierced by loud music and the stumping of hundreds of feet. Parties like those weren’t your cup of tea, but it being prom convinced you to try having fun along with your classmates. Besides, being aware that you’re not going to be there by yourself helped you harness your train of thought. It wasn’t the first party you attended with Heeseung, but it was definitely the biggest of them all, and most importantly it wasn’t just a house party.

“Shall we?” You heard your friend’s voice and smiled. You danced all night next to each other, jumping and showing off your moves with occasional breaks to drink something or just take a breath.

Both of you sat down on a bench and watched as your classmates were also getting pretty tired. You looked at the clock which showed 10 pm. Four hours of dancing with Heeseung passed in a blink of an eye. You were about to ask him when they plan on leaving when the DJ announced a slow song. Just when you were about to stand up and freshen up in the bathroom none other than Heeseung showed in front of you, his figure towering over yours.

“May I have this dance?” He smiled but his tone wasn’t playful, but serious. Almost too serious.

You simply nodded your head in response and let him guide you to the middle of the dance floor. He took one of your hands into his and placed the other one on your waist, pulling you a little bit closer to him, to the point you felt how his breath fell on your nose. You never were in that close proximity to him, apart from that one hug after your quarrel, but none of you felt awkward at all. The feeling of his hands on your body made you feel safe and at ease, contrary to what you experienced throughout the past few years of high school.

Heeseung looked at you with full adoration in his eyes as you struggled to dance with him, occasionally stepping on his foot.

“Sorry, I had never danced like this,” you confessed sheepishly.

“Don’t worry. Just follow my lead, Y/n,” he murmured in a low voice, sending shivers down your spine. You did as he said, focusing on making the correct steps. Heeseung pulled you even closer, making you both sway in an intimate hug. Hug too intimate for friends. You noticed how his face slowly came closer to yours, and when your foreheads almost touched suddenly both of you landed on a cold, wooden floor. You took a look around and noticed how the other pair fell on the ground, the boy frantically apologizing to you and Heeseung for pushing you. You saw how his jaw clenched and eyes sharpened.

“Well, you should be more careful,” he snapped.

“Heeseung, it’s okay.” Your voice made his face soften and shift his now calm gaze to you. He helped you get up and fix hair that loosened because of the impact. While he was busy fixing your hairclips you noticed a pair of eyes watching you like a hawk. His gaze wasn’t sharp and aggressive like in the cafeteria two weeks ago. It was rather interested and invested. He watched you calmly but your heart started its usual race at the sight of his eyes on your form.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asked worriedly, noticing your distant gaze.

“Yes,” you answered shortly and quickly. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Do you want to dance some more or sit down? It must’ve hurt,” he spoke, referring to your fall.

“Actually, can you drive me home?” you asked hurriedly. You didn’t want the situation in the cafeteria to happen again. And knowing Heeseung you knew it was very probable.

His expression dropped at your words, pursing his lips he nodded and lead your way to his car.

Contrary to the ride to the prom, this way was way quieter. None of you dared to speak. One because of regret and the other because of anxiousness. You looked at the trees that you passed by and how almost all windows were dark. You recognized your neighborhood and prepared to get out of his car when his voice stopped you.

“Y/n?”

You looked at him, your face painting a question, asking him to continue.

He debated for a while. “It’s this moment. Now or never,” he thought to himself.

“I had so much fun with you today, Y/n,” he simply stated, hesitation winning over his will to finally confess.

“Thank you, I also had so much fun.” You smiled and bid your goodbyes, leaving him in his car alone with his thoughts.

“Will you ever realize?”

Afternoon, Tuesday, 18th October 2022

The faint sound of keyboards’ clicking and soft whispers between students, accompanied by rustling scribbling on paper always helped you study. The whole atmosphere helped you compose yourself after long days of school and now college. Getting onto the major of your dreams wasn’t easy, but thanks to your investment in finals preparations and the help of your friends, you succeeded. Not only you studied what you’d always wanted, but you also weren’t as lonely as you were in high school. Because of similar interests, you quickly got in with them, spending breaks in each other’s company and having occasional sleepovers and other friendly hangouts. Thanks to them, accustoming to college life wasn’t as harsh and hard as you expected it to be.

Many things changed since you graduated from high school, apart from one thing - your usual friendly study dates with Heeseung were still a tradition none of you dared nor wanted to break. One would think that studying different subjects would break your friendship, but it only tightened the bond you had.

Heeseung reached for his backpack and took out a small box filled with white and red grapes. He placed it between you two so that you also could grab some. Seeing that you also took out your lunch box with walnuts and cashew nuts. You poured them into his box, knowing how he liked mixed flavors of grapes and nuts. He noticed that and immediately smiled in your direction, whispering a faint but still audible “Thank you”. You returned the smile and focused on your notes once again.

On the other hand, as much as he tried to, Heeseung couldn’t. His mind was flooded and confused about his own feelings for you, which only grew stronger as time passed. Ever since he tried confessing and getting closer to you during prom he didn’t dare to try again. The panic he saw in your eyes spoke for themselves. Fear of losing you overwhelmed his heart, he knew he wouldn’t be able to endure that. That’s why he tried ignoring all the love he had for you, usually failing miserably.

“What are your plans for the weekend?” you asked quietly, trying not to disturb other people around you.

Heeseung got back to his senses and thought for a second. “I have a basketball match at 6 on Saturday,” he replied, raising his one eyebrow. “You forgot?” he asked but it sounded more like a statement, not a question.

You pursed your lips together and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“No worries. Are you still planning to come?” He closed his book and turned around to face you directly.

“Of course!” you exclaimed in a whisper. “I never missed any of your matches and I’m not planning to change that. I like seeing you win,” you added, not knowing you caused his heart to flutter and a swarm of butterflies to fill his stomach.

“What if I don’t win?” he asked, unable to control a bright smile.

“I think we both don’t believe it will ever happen,” you remarked and a few people shushed you, annoyed by your too loud for a library conversation. Heeseung and you mumbled quiet apologies and returned to your books, trying to keep yourselves from laughing.

You called the study session off a little bit an hour later.

“You sure you don’t need a walk home?” he asked for a millionth time today.

“Hee, I’m sure. Besides don’t you have a training today? You better not be late again,” you scolded him and he raised his hands in a surrendering gesture.

“Okay, but text me as soon as you get home.” He pointed at you and squinted a bit.

“I will, bye!” you assured him and waved at him.

Deciding to take advantage of the last warm days, you took a longer route home. You passed by many places you used to go to while you were still a high school student. Cafes you used to study in with Heeseung whenever there were too many people in the library, a park where both of you ate lunches during hot summer days, a basketball court where he taught you how to play and gave you tips on how to make a score. It made you realize that apart from memories with Heeseung you can’t reminisce about other ones, as if you knew him your whole life. You stopped by the cafe you studied in together for the first time, and remembered how awkward you were with each other back then. You smiled at the memory of the very much begging of your friendship. Now that same cafe was filled with couples, taking photos together or of each other and sharing sweet desserts. The sight of love made you question if your future partner is going to like Heeseung. But the thought of anybody not liking him seemed impossible for you.

You continued walking when you saw a familiar figure approaching you. A figure you didn’t expect to meet.

“Hi Y/n! It’s me, Jisung!”

Evening, Tuesday, 18th October 2022

“It’s been a while, I almost didn’t recognize you,” Jisung said in a friendly tone. You also almost didn’t recognize him. He wore the complete opposite attire to his usual pair of jeans and collection of plain T-shirts, now wearing a suit with elegant shoes.

“Yeah, me too,” you spoke and a sheepish smile with a hint of disbelief crept on your face.

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you in like ages!” Jisung kept on smiling and tilting his head to the right, an old habit of his.

“Jisung what do you want?” you asked quickly, scared of his reaction.

Seeing your expression he sighed and spoke: “Y/n, listen. I’m really sorry. For everything I’ve done. I treated you badly, and I regret it with my whole heart.” He placed his hand on the left side of his chest. “What I did was wrong and I want to sincerely apologize to you. I’m so sorry.” His words seemed to be genuine and truthful to you.

“It was a long time ago, it’s okay, Jisung.” You shrugged and smiled softly.

“It’s not really okay, unless you let me redeem myself. let me take you out,” he said nonchalantly.

“Oh?”

“Do you have plans on Saturday? There’s a new restaurant that opened a while ago, what do you think?”

Thinking for a while you slowly nodded. Your movement made a strand of your hair fall from behind your ear and he was quick to fix it, making you blush.

“Great. It’s a date then. I’ll come and pick you up at 7,” he announced and said his goodbye, leaving you dumbfounded.

You felt like your chest gets tighter and your stomach fills with butterflies. You turned around to look at him once more but he was already gone. Just when you thought you finally forgot about him and your feelings for him, that somehow buried themselves in the depth of your heart, all you could think about was him once again. The way he looked at you, the way he smiled at you, the way the slightest touch of his fingers brushing fragile skin on your cheek, it all made you feel like on shaky ground.

Then it hit you. You’re going on a date. Your first ever date. You almost let a squeal leave your lips, but stopped it on time by covering them with the palm of your hand. Excitement rushed through your body and you hurriedly headed home.

When you arrived home and were done letting out all excitement and thrill of your body by jumping all over your place, you took the phone out of your bag. You noticed a few missed calls, all from Heeseung. You remembered how you promised to text him when you arrive home, and now he must’ve finished his practice.

You dialed his number and didn’t have to wait for too long for him to answer.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?” he asked worriedly.

“Yes, oh my god, Hee! Everything is great!” you couldn’t contain your happiness and wanted to share the news with him.

“Woah, woah, what’s that excitement about?” he asked and laughed at your crazy behavior.

“Hee, I’m going on a date!”

For a while your painful silence submerged the call, the only sound was soft breathing on the other side of the line.

“Heeseung? Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yes, yes, uhm, I’m okay,” he choked out.

“Well, then aren’t you gonna congratulate me?”

“Y/n, I’m very happy for you, but do I know this guy? You‘ve never told me about him.” His voice was rather cold in contrary to his words.

“You know him! It’s Jisung, from our high school.”

“What?” Heeseung couldn’t believe his ears. “Choi Jisung? The one who bullied you?”

“You’re at it again? He didn’t bully me Heeseung! He used to be my friend. Besides, why would you know what type of relationship we had?” You were mad. He never had an opportunity to truly get to know him, yet he was talking badly about him. This made your blood boil, because you knew him, and he certainly wasn’t as bad as Heeseung painted him.

You thought you truly knew Jisung. And you did to some point in your lives, now living on the deluded picture of him made by your imagination.

“Y/n, he treated you horribly! You were scared of him, don’t tell me otherwise, 'cause your reaction said otherwise.” His voice was harsh, sounding like he was scolding you.

“He changed! He apologized to me. He knows what he did was wrong!” you exclaimed, now even more mad than before.

“Y/n people like him don’t change. And even if he did, he shouldn’t be forgiven and given any more chances. Especially by you.”

“Let me decide on that. Fuck you, Heeseung,” you said and ended the call. You threw it on your bed and went to the bathroom to take a long shower, in hopes it would help you calm down.

Your words rang in Heeseung’s head for a long time. He froze, the phone still near his ear as if he was hoping you would say you didn’t mean that. But as minutes passed he realized you certainly did mean your words, and that they were meant to hurt him. He sat on the ground and slumped against a wall. Feeling his eyes sting as they brimmed with hot tears, Heeseung quickly wiped them off before completely breaking down. He stood up after a while and reached into a drawer for his car keys, ready for a night drive.

Afternoon, Saturday, 22nd October 2022

You stood in front of your wardrobe wondering how you should dress for your date with Jisung. You tried hard to think of anything that would suit the vibe and atmosphere of a fancy restaurant you’re going to, but your mind was flooded with thoughts of Heeseung. It was the longest you went without contacting each other, but your ego didn’t let you reach out to him. He should be happy for you, for his friend. After you would be happy for him if he told you he was going to have a date. Right?

After what seemed like ages of wondering about your outfit you contacted one of your classmates, Jennifer.

“Jen, do you have a second you could spare me? you asked as soon as your friend picked up the phone.

“Y/nie, my love, for you I always have time. What’s wrong?” she spoke and brought a long-lost smile to your face.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you but I remember how stressed you were with your presentation, but…” you started, feeling guilty for not telling her sooner.

“Oh my god, what is it? You’re scaring me!” she raised her voice dramatically.

“Well, I’m going on a date and I don’t know what to wear. I still have lots of time left but I’m getting a little bit nervous,” you confessed.

“Oh my! Finally, I’m so happy for you, bestie!” You heard her clapping her hands excitedly. “How about me coming over and rummaging through your clothes?”

“That would be great, but Jen you don’t have to!”

On the other side of the line, you heard the jingling sound of her car keys.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, plus you need to tell me how that happened, so don’t try to stop me now!” she said, and soon after you hung up.

While you were waiting you sat on your bed, thinking of possible scenarios of today’s date. Will it look like it does in movies? Will it end up only on this one date or will there be more?

Suddenly, the silence of your room got disturbed by the sound of a notification. You took your phone and read a reminder: “♡ Heeseung’s match 6pm ♡”. This made you bite your lips, guilty of not keeping your promise. Sure, you were mad at him, but he is still your best friend. “I never missed any of your matches and I’m not planning to change that,” you remembered your words from a few days ago. You placed your elbows on your thighs and hid your face in your hands. Just when you were about to let out your emotions you heard knocking on your front door. You opened them and they revealed a smiling Jennifer.

“Let’s get to the work, shall we?”

Thanks to Jennifer, picking your outfit was filled with laughter and her anecdotes. This helped you deal with the anxiety caused by your upcoming date, but also, more importantly, stop yourself from thinking about Heeseung. Before you knew it, the outfit was ready, along with a bag, some accessories, and shoes. You still had some time before 7 PM, so you sat in your room and chatted for a while, enjoying each other’s presence after days of different schedules.

“Okay, but most importantly, how did he ask you out?” She waited for your answer with anticipation and excitement.

“I mean we met when I was having a walk in the neighborhood and he just asked me.” You shrugged but your cheeks filled with red tint.

“Oh my god!” Jennifer exclaimed, emphasizing the last word. “I thought he will never ask you out, at this rate. But finally, my prayers were listened to!” She raised her hands in the air, while you were, to say the least, confused and dumbfounded.

“What do you mean? Who are you talking about?” you asked.

Your friend’s smile faded and she lowered her hands. “About your friend, that Heeseung guy. Is he not the one that asked you out?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“So it’s not Heeseung you’re going out with?” You shook your head and noticed how disappointment filled her eyes.

“Oh come on, Jen. You’re not happy for me anymore?”

“I am!” she defended herself. “It’s just… Both of you already seemed like a couple or like you at least like each other. You always say he’s like an angel, that you can’t imagine your life without him, so I kinda just assumed you liked him. Plus the way he looks at you speaks for itself better than your constant love confessions.”

Love?

Evening, Saturday 22nd October 2023

The gymnasium hall was filled with loud cheers coming from both bleachers. Players were practicing shots and warming up before the first match of the season. Heeseung was one of them, yet the ace known for excellent aim failed to score almost anything. He kept on looking for you in your usual place where you cheered for him along with your friends. But that one spot was empty, soon to be occupied by some unknown to him student. He tried to push the thoughts of you away, but as much as he tried the more he failed. None of the players or the coach had ever seen this part of him.

The match barely started, yet your university’s team was failing like never. Mainly because something apparently preoccupied the mind of the captain of the team. This made a coach come to a decision of seating him on a bench, for the first time during his player days.

You waited patiently on the couch, ready to go out. The clock showed half past seven, which made you worried, if he will even come. What if he got into an accident? What if something bad happened to him. You anxiously were looking at your phone, waiting for some message from Jisung. You were about to call him when your phone screen lightens up, showing his caller ID. You answered almost immediately.

“Hello?”

“Y/n! I’m so sorry for being late, but I’m already near your place so you can already come out,” he said and you could hear the sound of the engine’s drone.

“No worries, take your time,” you reassured him but noticed that the call already ended.

You locked the door behind you and made your way to the elevator.

You spotted his car from afar and waved at him. Your heart almost sprung out of your chest and felt how your throat tightens at every breath you took. You got in and greeted him shyly.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, and before you could realize he left a quick and harsh kiss on your lips, leaving you shocked. Jisung on the other side smiled to himself and started the car.

“I thought we could go somewhere where we could be alone before eating, what do you say?” he asked placing his hand on your inner thigh, making you, to say at least, extremely uncomfortable.

You tried taking his hand off your body, but he only gripped your wrist tightly making you hiss. “Oh, Y/n. Don’t act so innocent.” He stopped at the side of the road. Looking around you couldn’t spot a single living soul around you nor any car passing by. “But I can assure you I’ll fuck you better than him,” he said bluntly and started unbuckling his belt.

Not really knowing what to do you slapped him across his face and hurriedly got out o his car. You ran as fast as you can, with stamina better than usual, due to a high level of adrenaline in your body. You thought of the place you should go to. He knew where you lived so your place wouldn’t work. Jennifer’s apartment on the other hand was far away from where you were. The only place that was near enough was Heeseung’s apartment. Looking at the time you thought he must already be home. You turned around once more to see if he was following you. Not thinking twice you continued running, still shocked not knowing what exactly happened.

The first thing Heeseung did after arriving home from his first-ever lost match was take a cold shower. He let the icy water cascade down his body while still thinking about you. What if he did something bad to you during your date? He knew Jisung was up to no good, yet he let you go out with him. He stepped out of the cabin and hurriedly dressed himself into comfortable clothes.

Where should he search for you? he should’ve at least asked you where you were going and now he had an entire city to rummage. Not bothering to dry his hair he grabbed his keys and opened the door only to see you, completely breathless, on the edge of crying at his sight.

Night, Saturday, 22nd October 2023

You stared at your reflection in a mirror, under the bright light of Heeseung’s bathroom. None of you dared to speak, both allowing you to catch your breath, collect thoughts and speak whenever you’re ready. He just let you in and gave you his T-shirt and pair of shorts you always wore whenever you paid him an unexpected visit and wanted to get changed into something more comfortable.

Heeseung decided to prepare a quick meal for you and took your favorite snacks he stored in his kitchen, just in case. Your state worried him to the point he didn’t know what to do. He knew one thing though. Jisung wanted to hurt you, and either he succeeded or his attempt stayed as an attempt. He waited patiently for you, giving you all the time you needed, and thought of all the possible scenarios and how he could comfort you.

You finally decided to leave the bathroom and took a seat next to him on the couch. For a while, the silence filled the room with hesitation and uncertainty.

“Do you wanna talk or eat first?” he asked, trying to sound as gentle as he could.

“Eat,” you simply whispered, voice cracking on the way.

Heeseung looked up at you. You hugged your knees, eyes mentally checked out. He raised his hand to rub your shoulder but stopped himself midway, instead he just nodded and stood up to hand you your bowl. You quietly thanked him and took a bite of still hot noodles he had prepared. Silence once again submerged the room, the only audible sound was an occasional noodle slurp.

Once you finished and placed a bowl on the table sudden realisation hit you. You were assaulted. Jisung wanted to hurt you and he certainly didn’t change. And that Heeseung was right. Your eyes brimmed with tears.

Your expression told him everything he needed to know. Guilt crept over him and all h could think was if it could be prevented. If only his pride and ego didn’t blind him if only he wouldn’t let his emotions stop him. But now it was too late. You, the person he loved dearly was hurt, making him feel helpless.

Before he could think how can he comfort you, you were already in his arms. You cried your heart out on his shoulder as he just closed you in his warm and secure embrace, wanting to bring home to you, in such a crisis you were in.

“Hee, you were right!” you cried, choking on each word. “I should’ve listened to you, it��s all my fault!”

Heeseung pulled out t your words and cupped your cheeks in his palms. His eyes were full of compassion and regret, accentuated by tears that threatened to fall down his face. “No Y/n. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything to deserve this. I am here to listen and help you.”

His words felt like a soft Sunbeams that hit your skin after days of constant rain. You felt like your tensed body slowly relaxes at his touch and words as he spoke. Realizing how lucky you got, to have a friend like him you smiled as tears still blurred your vision. Nonetheless, you still noticed how he also smiled at you, eyes expressing nothing but pure love and will to protect you from everything.

“Plus the way he looks at you speaks for itself better than your constant love confessions,” you recalled Jennifer’s words now replaying all the memories you made with him during those almost 4 years of friendship.

How he never hesitated to help you whenever he saw you struggling.

How he never let you skip meals during exam season, sacrificing his own study time.

How he always managed to make time for you.

How he helped you live to the fullest during your high school days.

How he was the only person to truly know how to calm you down and help you relax.

How he was the only person to know your true self.

How he just stayed by your side, even though you were wrong, and hurt him with your insensitive words.

He truly does love you. How could you not see this?

What bugged you, even more, was how you didn’t realize you loved him too, maybe even more than he loves you. His compassion, passion, and kindness made him an angel you did not deserve.

“Hee, I’m so sorry.” You shook your head from disbelief at your own obliviousness and stupidity. “I’m so sorry for hurting you, for what I said a few days ago. I regret it and never intended to hurt you.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he just smiled and invited you into his embrace once again. You gladly fell into his arms and melted in the comforting touch that helped you feel at ease. Your oasis. Your home.

Evening, Friday, 28th April 2023

The spectators were going crazy at the fierce match between the two teams. Your university’s players were currently losing by a few points but still were hoping to win regionals. While teams were discussing tactics with their coaches during a short break you were shouting words of encouragement along with other fans.

After the floor got cleaned players once again stepped on the court and started the last quarter. The ball relocated quickly between the hands of opponents when because of a small mistake of one of them it landed in your team’s captain, Heeseung’s hands. Your side of the bleachers screamed out of joy as he scored 3 points.

For a few minutes, none of the teams scored, raising the stress and emotions to the maximum. Now Heeseung’s team needed a final word to win the game and knock current front-runners off their pedestal. The tension in the air suffocated everyone, they were equally close and far from winning, because of the exhaustion of the other team.

The clock showed one minute till the end and a sudden rush of adrenaline overpowered Heeseung’s body. He had to lead his team to victory and he knew he could do it. He waited for the right moment and took the ball away from another player. He rushed to the hoop making an impressive buzzer beater leaving one side of the hall in tears of regret and the other one of joy.

The team surrounded him in a group hug, celebrating the victory and making it to the nationals, for the first time in your university’s history.

Seeing him so happy and smiley because of victory made your heart fill with glee and pride.

You saw how his teammates’ girlfriends rushed to congratulate them. That’s when Heeseung and your eyes met. He made a confused expression and you saw him say, barely audible because of the noise: “What are you waiting for?” and opened his arms.

You laughed and rushed his way to engulf him in a hug, not caring about the layer of sweat that covered his body and clothes. You pulled out, arms still wrapped around his neck, and kissed him, feeling salty drops on your lips. He melted in your touch and lifted your body while spinning around. You giggled against his lips and pulled away saying: “I’m so proud of you, love” making his cheeks and tips of ears turn bright pink. “I love you so much,” you confessed and looked deeply into his beautiful dark eyes.

“I love you more,” he said leaving a sweet kiss on your temple.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

#enhypen #enhypen imagine #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen fic #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #heeseung enhypen #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #heeseung fic #heeseung x reader #heeseung x y/n #heeseung x you

[thatsdemko]

up for it? - p.gavi

part two of the fake it mini series | previous part | next part

warnings: mentions of alcohol + mentions of vomiting

a/n: really liking this redo of the series than the previous one 😊

24 HOURS PRIOR TO THE RED CARPET

the mixture of alcohol and sweaty bodies was enough to make a sober person vomit, but you relished it in the moment. you enjoyed the sweaty male bodies pounding against yours, or the free drinks that flowed with a wink of an eye and a flash of a smile, but you had reached a limit. one that made your head spin, your feet sluggish, and your words slur. you were drunk.

the next Uber cost more than you could somehow come up with in your bank account, and the nearest friend lived miles from the city, but there’s just one guy who might still be awake.

“do you have any idea what time it is?” he answers with a grumble, his voice groggy and low it was hard to hear him in the mixture of drunk giggles and girls gagging outside the club.

“what time is it?” your words slur together, they come out like molasses, slow and almost twisted that jolts him out of bed. you’d never been this drunk, never enough to call him. of all this time he’d known you—and that was a decade to be exact—you’d never gotten this wasted. not even at the gavi family Christmas party where sangria flowed with ease.

“dios mio, where are you?”

“I don’t know?”

he rolled his eyes, go figures. all it ever took was one person to say jump and you’d say how high. you’d end up in France if it wasn’t for the lack of euros and the fear of flying.

“I’m on my way, you just stay put.”

—

his car rolls slowly down the street and comes to a stop right in front of you. it takes two tries for you to get into his car, and the second time resulted in you nearly throwing yourself onto him. what a great story this will make for the papers, you think to yourself. you could practically read the headlines “drunk girl throws herself onto Barcelona star.”

“where are we going?”

“where do you think?” he grits through his teeth. it’s currently three in the morning, and tomorrow was an early practice which meant by the time he’d get home with you, he’d be getting out of bed in a few hours. but he knew if he didn’t do this, he’d never hear the end of it from his mother, someone who valued you and your friendship with her son.

“I don’t feel well.” the words come out a jumbled mess. you’re stirring in the passenger seat, hand rested against your forehead, you’re leaned over the seat trying to calm down. it wasn’t a good idea, to lean forward that is, because soon enough the mixture of tequila and vodka came right back up and onto his leather seat.

the car comes to an immediate stop, he clicks the engine off. you don’t need to look over to see he’s angry, this was an expensive car after all. and if it wasn’t for him passing his drivers test, you’d probably thrown up on the streets in front of strangers. but this was a mess not even Pablo could fix himself.

“I’m so sorry—“

“take this.”

“what?” you turn your head over to the drivers seat, his shirt was crumbled up in his hands. he sat there staring at you with nothing but just a pair of joggers, “take this, at least clean yourself up with it.”

“I—“ you pause. there’s no way in hell you could take that shirt. it was worth more money than the Ubers cost and more money than the rent you paid, you couldn’t think to use his, outrageously, priced white shirt as something to clean up your vomit with, “I can’t take that, gavi.”

“fine,” he huffs, and without your permission he reaches across the center console and begins to wipe what’s all over your dress off, “now we’ve got two more minutes until we get home, can you make it?”

“I think so.”

—

“how do I repay you for this?” you gesture to his cozy apartment, the fresh sheets on his king size bed, and his clothes you were currently drowning in for pajamas.

a smirk lifts to his lips, you can see his mind is beginning to spin, “I actually have an idea.”

tags: @ncentic @footballerficsposts @chriss-club @xjval @morenofilm @leclercloml

want to be tagged in this series? let me know here!

#pablo gavi #gavi #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi x yn #gavi imagine #gavi fic #gavi fanfic #gavi fluff #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x you #Pablo gavi fic #pablo gavi fanfic #pablo gavi fluff #pablo gavi imagine #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football imagine #football fic #football fanfic #football imagines #football fluff #fc barca #fc barcelona #fake it mini series #pg6 #football one shot #football oneshot

[givemea-dam-break]

Not a prompt unless you want it to be, but you’re the only one who will appreciate -

George/Reader (or OC) where Reader is a Database Analyst for Fittes. Enemies to lovers.

Reader dedicates her life to making information more accessible/understandable/traceable and George can begrudgingly accept that. They make appointments with each other to argue over the merits of digitization, tagging systems, etc and if these arguments spill over into meal times, maybe they grab a bite and keep arguing, and oh no does everyone think we’re dating??

Anyways <3

a/n: RAHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH!!!! i know essentially nothing about technology though so i’ve probably butchered that part of this but i hope you enjoy!!! and thank you to @ikeasupremacy you really helped this go from a 2 page long flop that contained literally fuck all to a 5 page decent piece of work pahaha

warnings: mild language, mild angst words: 2.8K taglist: @neewtmas @locklylemybeloved @aayeroace @gotlostinfiction @waitingforthesunrise @mirrorballdickinson @mischiefmanaged71 @magicandmaybe @wellgoslowly @ettadear gn reader

Nice To Meet You - George Karim

“You know that, on the whole, this will make life way easier for you?”

“Since when do you want to make life easy for me?”

Taking an angry bite out of your sandwich, you say, “I’m not doing this specifically for you, twat. This is quite literally the purpose of my job, so it’s for everyone.”

George Karim sits back in his chair, glaring at you through the green reflections on his glasses. “And what exactly is the benefit of digitalising all of it?”

“Going over this again? Right, well, for one, there’s going to be new computers put into the Archives meaning more people can use them. Have I lost you yet? No? All right. For two, being able to search up what you want in a database is way easier than pacing for hours trying to find an old newspaper that someone might be using already. For three, multiple people can read the same file at the same time. You can’t do that with the musty old paper copies.”

There’s a moment of silence and an air of tension thick enough that you could cut it with a knife. The only sounds beyond George’s annoyed huffs of breath are the jingle of the café’s windchimes and chatter from other customers.

If you had your way, you wouldn’t even be sitting here discussing your plan of action with him, but your supervisor told you that you’d best talk about it to other agencies and their members to see what their thoughts are. Of course, the one time you head to Lockwood and Co. with the intention of speaking to them on purpose, hoping and praying you’d at least be speaking to Anthony Lockwood himself; you were sent off with his second and by far the most infuriating boy in all of London, George Karim. And, well, as you already know, he is a tough nut to crack.

“Why are you so stuck up on physical files, anyways?” you ask. “It’s not like we’re going to burn them on a pyre and force you to use a website. They’ll still be there. It just seems much more convenient to click a few buttons and have what you need.”

“They hold a particularly warm place in my heart,” he says with a hint of sarcasm. “But, fine, okay, life will be made easier for everybody with this new system. So why is it only being implemented now? Smaller agencies could’ve done with this years ago while Fittes and Rotwell and all the big companies have had it this whole time.”

Though you hate it, you can only shrug. “The big companies don’t want to have to compete with the smaller ones.”

“You’re saying this, but you’re working for Fittes, the biggest of the big companies.”

You grip your sandwich harder, pretending it’s George’s throat. “Yes, well, better pay than a smaller company. Some of us don’t get offered a bedroom when being accepted into a job. Besides, as much as I don’t like the big companies making a huge profit off of the Problem, I don’t have a choice. They’re the only ones with the resources I need. And, don’t forget, that’s where you used to work, too.”

Surprisingly, George doesn’t have a quip for that. He takes a thoughtful sip of his tea, glancing out of the café window and onto the busy street just beyond. The sunlight hits the lenses of his glasses in such a way that they shine a reflection down onto the table in front of you.

“So, this would be accessible for everyone?” he asks. “Not just the big agencies and their lackeys.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this to make you believe it, but yes. If that wasn’t the case, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

Quite frankly, you’re not surprised about having to repeat things over and over. Every single conversation you’ve ever had with George, no matter how fleeting or filled with irritation, has seemed like he had the personal mission of finding flaws in everything you do. Holding your rapier wrong – you absolutely did not, if anything, he was holding his wrong. Pronouncing a word wrong once. Taking a moment longer than him to spell a ridiculously long word on a report.

Now is no different. It’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his mind, working overtime trying to find an issue with this plan. But there’s nothing, that much you know from you and your team’s extensive planning and the look of mild horror on his face.

You can’t help the proud smile that parts your lips. “Go on, then, Georgie. Thoughts?”

He gives you a scathing look that only fuels the pride burning in your chest. “I think…”

“Yes?”

“I think that…”

“Carry on. I need to hear you say it.”

“Oh, shut up. I think that it’s a good idea.”

“Hmm? What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

You’ve never seen such anger in a person’s eyes. “I think that it’s a good idea. Happy?”

“Very. That’s all I needed to hear.”

George opens his mouth to say something, probably something insulting, but a waitress breezes over. She’s a sweet middle-aged lady with a contagious smile that even has him easing up a bit.

With a twinkle in her warm eyes, she asks, “Is there anything else I can get the lovely couple?”

And that does it. If you weren’t so shocked yourself, the horrified expression on George’s face would’ve cracked you up. It looks as if someone stepped on his puppy and then tried to feed it to him. Then, amongst your own disgust, you realise that the expression is at the thought of dating you, and no matter the animosity the two of you share, you can’t help but be a little offended.

“Oh, uh, we’re not –“ You purse your lips. “Nothing else, thanks.”

She leaves momentarily, and your table lapses into an entirely uncomfortable silence. You can’t look at George. He can’t look at you. There’s a weird pit in your stomach. Nausea. Right? Because… Ew.

“I told you we shouldn’t have continued this conversation during my lunch break,” you grumble.

He hums in agreement, finding particular interest in his swirling tea. “We should probably go.”

“Yeah. Yeah, uh, we’ve covered all bases. Of the plan, I mean. Not anything else. The plan. My job.”

But, even still, you’re both sitting. You’re not moving. Why? Maybe you’re paralysed with disgust. Maybe the mere thought of people thinking that the two of you are dating is debilitating. Maybe, maybe, maybe… You’re considering it?

God, no. That’s horrid to even think about.

“I, um, are you heading back to the Archives, too?” you ask.

George takes a moment to respond, as if lost in a daze. “Oh. Yeah – Uh, yeah, I am.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

As soon as you stand, George is on his feet, enough money slapped on the table for the two of you, and heading over to the exit. And, well, as much as you want to let him head off on his own, here comes that realisation that it’s a little insulting that he is the one trying to escape so quickly.

What a little prick.

You’re out of the door almost as soon as he is, insistent that you will be the one ahead. Yeah, sure, you’re heading to the same place and could try to be amenable, but will you? God, no. You want him to know that you can leave just as easily and are just as horrified by this prospect of a relationship as he is.

Why wouldn’t he want to date you? Beyond the constant arguments you have, you’ve always figured you’re a pretty decent person. Smart, but not arrogantly so. Friendly. Funny. Good company. Caring. What’s not to like? How dare he be disgusted!

But he seems just as determined to reach the Archives first. It’s only a few corners away, but it feels like a miles-long race between the two of you. But if the prize is your dignity, then to hell with the distance – you’d go actual miles to preserve that, especially against George.

It comes to a halt when you’re forced to wait at traffic lights, unable to even slip across the street before they change from red to green merely because of the amount of coincidentally flooding traffic.

For what feels like hours, you have to stand beside him, listening to him breathe and mutter and tut as if this is the biggest inconvenience in the world. Hey, if he didn’t think a relationship with you was such a horrible idea then this wouldn’t be taking place!

No matter that you think the exact same. You’re allowed to feel like that.

Do you feel like that?

The beeping of the pedestrian crossing jerks you from your thoughts, and you’re rushing across the street before you know it. And, oh, curse his long legs! He’s getting ahead of you.

There’s an anger building up in your chest now, one that probably isn’t fully justified. Perhaps it stems from deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy you’ve not had the mind to think about for a little while now. Or even just out of pure spite of George Karim that has been pulsing through your veins for years now. Why has it been there? Because of him. Because of his incessant need to find flaws in your work and you, and his need to huff at anything you say or do. Like your existence is a bother.

Either way, the anger forms words before you can think to dismantle them. “What’s your issue with me?”

George pauses, near the side of the pavement, with the Archives in clear view behind him. He’s frowning over back you, dark eyes narrowed and bouncing with golden sunlight. Why should someone that hates you so be complimented by the sun? It’s entirely unfair, especially when it’s only blinding you.

“What?”

You stop a foot or two in front of him, panting a little from walking so fast. “What exactly is your problem with me? What did I do to you? Because, far as I know, you’ve hated me ever since we first met.”

The words take a minute to process, and it looks as though he’s trying to figure out some hidden meaning behind them. There’s nothing hard about what you’ve asked. Nothing harder than admit you feel ashamed to have even asked it.

“I don’t –“ George’s frown only deepens, taking complete notice of the frustration on your face.

“Forget I asked,” you say. “It doesn’t matter. Stupid question anyways.”

But, when you start to walk away, a hand on your wrist stops you, pulling you back slightly. When you  look back, George is there, hand wrapped around your arm and staring at it as if it isn’t his own skin on yours. You expect him to pull away, disgusted at the thought of touching you, but his grip only softens slightly.

“I don’t hate you,” he says.

Scoffing, you say, “Yeah, right, and I’m Penelope Fittes. Let go of me.”

And, to his merit, he does. But your feet aren’t cooperating. They won’t move. Why, why, why won’t they move?

“I’ve never hated you,” he murmurs. His gaze is fixed on yours, something you’ve always noticed he’s steered clear of doing, and you feel frozen under it. “Intimidated, yeah.”

“Intimidated?” You roll your eyes. “George, come on. I was trying to be serious, but you’re just making a joke of it.”

The look in his eyes at that moment is a mix of desperation and exasperation. “I am being serious. Do you know how hard it is to be regarded as the smartest person someone’s met, to rely on the intelligence as your only form of worth to people, and then find someone smarter than you?”

Words try to form in your throat, only to crumble like chalk beneath too-strong fingers.

“And I’m sorry it’s made me lash out at you,” he continues. “I know it’s a horrible thing to do, but it’s like my mouth doesn’t want to cooperate with my brain. Truly, I regret how I’ve treated you. You’ve never deserved it.”

Your throat feels thick, and it’s hard to swallow. “Georgie, don’t lie.��

There’s a flicker of a smile on his lips then. “You know I like it when you call me that?”

“You told me you hated it when I call you Georgie,” you say, but it feels like your voice is dwindling.

“I told you that so you’d call me it more,” he admits. “(name), I really, truly have never hated you. And, again, I am so sorry I’ve treated you the way I have. I admire your intelligence and your insistence of sticking up for yourself. I just wish I had started things differently between us.”

The anger is back, burning a hole in your chest. “You’ve had years to tell me this. Why? Why didn’t you?”

He’s breathing rather heavily. “I was scared. I was trying to figure things out – my feelings, your feelings. But, more than anything, I couldn’t bring myself to change from the person you’d begun to see, because what if you hated the real me more than this one you know so well?” Now, his eyes tear away from yours as he stares up at the sky, looking for guidance from some divine being. “Even when you insulted me, I enjoyed it because it was from you. How lucky was I to even be able to speak to you, never mind hear you come up with all these unique names? There are millions of people who have never heard you speak, who have never had the pleasure of speaking to you or will never have it again, and I didn’t even want to chance becoming one of them.”

With that, the flames roaring inside your chest are extinguished. Instead, now, there’s a strange, unfamiliar feeling in your stomach that inches its way up your body and into your mouth, holding your tongue and stopping your ability to speak.

Despite all the quips, the need to find faults in what you do, he has never meant it. How horrible does that make you, saying all of these things to him because that was how you genuinely felt?

Do they count, seeing as they were formed on the basis of a personality that doesn’t truly exist?

Your fingers hurt from tearing at the skin around your nails. “You really think I’m so bad that I wouldn’t like the real you? Georgie, there is no way I wouldn’t have preferred it.”

He laughs at that, and the sound only bolsters this strange feeling in your stomach. Not quite butterflies, but almost. More melancholic. Could you have had the opportunity to hear that laugh for years now? To cherish it the way a person does a memory? The way an artist does a creation?

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell you how sorry I am,” he says, and you swear he inches slightly closer. “About the way I acted. The fact it’s taken me this long to admit this to you. All of it. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

And you don’t. Not really. Not when it’s left a hollow feeling in your chest, left by the realisation that everything you said was unfounded and cruel and based on a person you had no true conception of. Not when this is how it has been for years between you both. Weeks, you could understand. But years?

There’s a part of you, though, that could potentially forgive him, given the chance. George may be quick to criticise or provide information for something, but he has always kept his emotions at arm’s length, that much even you know. So, for him to come and outright tell you all of this takes insane courage.

Even still, you can’t fully comprehend it all.

“Well,” you say, “you paid for my lunch. So that’s a start.”

He smiles then. A flash of white teeth and an insurgence of unfamiliar fondness in your heart.

“We could restart,” he suggests, pushing his glasses up his nose just so.

Despite the hollowness, you nod and manage a small smile. “I’d like that.”

Not even a second later, his hand is hovering in the air just between you both. “George Karim. Nice to meet you.”

It shouldn’t make your smile grow, it really shouldn’t, but it does.

“(name) (last name),” you say, clutching his hand in yours. “Nice to meet you, too.”

And, somehow, that smile of his, one you’re sure you’ll grow more accustomed to, adds a small piece of filling to the hole in your chest.

#george karim x reader #george karim fanfiction #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #george karim #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

[foxgloveprincess]

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader, Lance Tucker x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]

Summary: After your night with Ransom, you’re moving on—really.  

Word Count: 2,818

Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist

Warnings: UnBeta’d, Dark, Stalking, Fear/Paranoia, Unreliable Narrator, Yandere Vibes, BDSM (Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Rope Bondage, Suspension, Aftercare), brief Smut (Vaginal Penetration, Unsatisfying), Pet Names (baby, pidge, etc). Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: Here’s some more Ransom, being patient as he can be. Let me know what you think!

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics. 

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!

Breathe. In. Out. Your body relaxes into the cradle of ropes. You catch a glimpse of Chase, his smile shining for his audience. You keep your thoughts on him, too scared to let them drift. 

Though, another eye catches yours from the crowd. Your lips twitch and your teeth worry over them. Hunger, deep and dark, glinting. Pride radiating in waves. The eyes of a man who looks at you as though you’re a pristinely polished trophy. And you’re happy to be that for Lance Tucker. Just for him. God, what you’d let that man do to you. Never imagining the man who might do it better—never. 

You try to blink away thoughts of that rich asshole and let your eyes drift closed. A hand binding your wrists, around your throat. That smug smirk of his as he took you apart piece by piece. 

No. There’s no room for Ransom. He didn’t write you a check, but a week later you’d gotten a direct deposit—more than he’d promised. And you hadn’t heard from him since. Good riddance. 

You find Lance in the crowd again and let his proud smile satisfy you. You don’t need some pompous, entitled, egotistical brat hanging around being a creep. You’re glad Ransom got you out of his system. Really. You are. 

You breathe a moment, centering yourself back in the present. There’s no need to think about Ransom Drysdale. None at all. 

“Are you alright?” Chase asks in a quiet tone. His hand reaches out to steady you, grounding you to the conversation with him. 

“I’m fine,” you reply before assessing the state of your body. “But a little sore? Maybe? I think I might need to come down soonish.” 

“Alright,” Chase says. He turns back to the crowd announcing the end of his presentation, explaining the aftercare and begins to lower the rig. 

Your belly finds the mats, hands still wrapped behind your back. You turn your head and rest it on the cushion while you wait. Chase approaches and kneels by your waist. 

A laugh huffs from your chest when you look up at him. “I could have stayed up longer.” 

Chase quirks a brow. “I’m sure you could have. But I didn’t think you should.” 

You make an accepting sound in your throat and let him do his work. A minute passes before your limbs are all free. Chase wraps the rope from his palm to his elbow, winding it to put away. 

Slowly, you begin to move. First legs, stretching into the air and bending, then arms. When you finally push up from the mat, Chase stands ready to help guide you back to your room. 

“You did good today,” you remark as you both walk down the hallway. “They were eating up every word. Saw a bunch heading toward your photography table.” He smiles at you. “I think they really like the pose, too.” 

The door opens to your room and you find your futon. Chase hands you your snack and drink. 

“What do you think about going vertical next week?” he asks, brushing his fingers over your forehead while you lay comfortably on your bed. 

“As long as I’m not upside down,” you reply with closed eyes and a yawn. 

“I’ll let Lance know you’re ready for him.” Chase leaves you drifting off to sleep to get your boyfriend—the newest addition to your aftercare routine. 

The door opens and you feel the tender touch of Lance’s hand. He leans down to kiss your lips. 

“Hey, baby,” you murmur, half asleep. But when you turn over and open your eyes, no one’s there. You sit up and glance around. 

The door sits in its frame, shut and undisturbed, just like the rest of your room. Must have been your imagination, but you could’ve sworn…

The door opens and Lance struts in. You catch his eye and his smile beams. 

“God, you were fantastic!” he enthuses. Taking his hands from his track pants pockets, he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours. They taste of cherry chapstick, how could you have forgotten that—the lips that kissed yours before him didn’t. 

“You waiting up for me?” 

You nod without a word, unsure as to what to say. Part of you wants to mention that moment before he came in. But why would he want to hear about your dream? Instead, you pull back your blanket, inviting him to warm you up. 

“As soon as we get back to your place, I’ll get your epsom salt bath going,” he starts, liking the sound of his own voice as much as you do. It grounds you, especially after a strange encounter with a figment of your imagination. “Gotta make sure you aren’t sore in the morning. Then we can get you in your…”

He keeps talking and it lulls you to sleep. Knowing that when you wake up, he’ll take you back to your place and sleep over. And everything will go like it always does. 

Which is why you’re unsurprised when Saturday morning dawns and Lance has slotted himself between your thighs. 

His hips curve into yours, his cock stretching you wide. Your fingers dig into his spine, clutching him close. Moans spill from your lips. His heavy breaths brush across your cheeks. Sweat beads on his brow as he readjusts you, stretching one of your legs closer to your chest while keeping the other wrapped around his hips. 

Your lips press together. It all feels good—always has. Even when you were finding your groove together, with his athleticism and your need for intimacy. 

He makes noises of pleasure. His hips accelerating in a signal of his imminent release. Your eyes close, focusing on your own. Lance’s hips stutter. He paints your insides with his cum and sighs. 

A sunny smile spreads his lips. How his hair remains coiffed after all the sweat and exertion, you don’t know, but it’s endearing. A quirk you quite adore. 

He flops to the side, running his hand along his abdomen, tickling the tattoo of the gold ribbon he has leading down his pelvis. Another uniquely Lance thing. So proud of his accomplishments, and you don’t blame him. He’s incredible. 

But your pulse thrums with the dissipating arousal of your unsatisfied lust. Your arms reach over your head, stretching sore muscles. Without meaning to, you let your mind wander. How Ransom made you sore in the best way. How he fit inside you. How he made you cum until you ached for nothing but pleasure. 

Your boyfriend’s hand reaches over, smoothing over your tummy and flicking at one of your nipples.

“Where’re you going?” he asks. 

You look over and smile. Eyes trace over his pouty lips and bright blue eyes. You tilt your head and brush your lips to his. 

“I’m right here,” you reply. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?” Harlan asks. He leans back in his chair and you lift your head from your research. 

“The toxicology of plant-based poisons,” you reply, immersed in your work. Though, you know it won’t satisfy your boss. 

He says nothing more for a moment. Letting you turn your full attention back to the research at hand. He probably didn’t need much help in the subject with how long he’s been writing murder mysteries. Still, he always likes to be accurate. As few creative liberties as possible—at least where it counts. 

“Alright,” he says with as little enthusiasm as he can bestow on such an acceptance. “You will tell me eventually, mind.” 

“Will I?” you mumble distractedly. 

“You’re not a very good liar.” 

You snort and turn the page, picking up a highlighter and sticky note to jot down a thought on a passage about cyanide. 

“It isn’t something Walt did, is it?” he prods, the weight of his observant gaze heavy on your shoulders. 

“No, Harlan,” you reply, recapping the pen in your hand. 

“What about Ransom? He gave you some trouble a little while ago.”

You swallow and push aside the embarrassment and panic that spikes through you, replying, “No, Harlan.” 

“Huh,” he says. 

“Shouldn’t you be working?” you ask with a huff of mild frustration. 

“I’m quite stuck on what should happen next,” he says with a flick to the corner of the page. 

“Right,” you drone with the skeptical quirk of your eyebrow sent in his direction. 

He smiles that enigmatic smile of his and reaches up a hand to cup his chin. “You know I’m just concerned.” 

With a sigh, you give up on your work. Your boss won’t let you focus on it anyway. Folding your arms over your chest, you lean back and contemplate how best to word your explanation. One tiny slip and the jig is up. How could you possibly tell him his grandson paid to fuck you better than anyone ever has?

“You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you admit, pursing your lips around the word. “Don’t need to tell you all the gory details, though.”

“That’s the best part of a story,” he refutes with a twinkle in his eye. His full attention remains on you, waiting for the final crack before the flood. 

“Let’s just say,” you pause for the right wording. “My boyfriend is amazing, but doesn’t always…” You trail off with a hand gesture to imply the rest.

“You mean in the boudoir?” Harlan twines his fingers and tilts his head in interest. 

You snort and nod. “Yeah.” You lean back in your chair until your eyes meet the ceiling. “Got me thinking about the last prick. He was an asshole, but he...” You trail off, uncertain as to how you might finish the thought.

Harlan looks at you a long while. When your head turns to meet his gaze, he says, “May I offer advice in the form of an old adage?”

You sit upright and nod. “Lay it on me.” Complete with a grabbing motion of your hands. 

“Comparison is the thief of joy.” 

It sits in the air, letting you soak it in. Harlan returns to his manuscript in silence. Yet you’re stuck on the words. He’s right. Ransom is your past—a blip, if anything—and Lance is your future—a real, solid one at that.

You turn back to your research with determination. Refusing to let Ransom occupy a second more of your thoughts. You start back on your note about cyanide. 

“I know that’s not all, by the by,” your boss intones right as your pen meets paper. “But it’s enough for now.”

You swallow and glance over your shoulder to him. “Thanks.” 

Harlan nods with a hum and places his glasses on his nose. 

The sounds of the typewriter fill the empty space of the room and the two of you continue your work. You lose yourself to the facts and let the hours tick by. Thoughts wavering on your future. 

“Seriously, this tastes like shit.” 

You hear his voice before you see him. Your heart drops to your stomach. All you can think is ‘Oh, God, no.’ Your feet find the final step and you freeze. Unsure of the best course of action. 

You might be able to completely skirt by unnoticed through the front door. Or the back patio. As long as Ransom stays in the kitchen. 

It was coming back inside that posed the problem. Harlan sending you on an errand to the local public library to pick up a book he placed on hold. If Ransom were still here, how could you avoid him without knowing his position in the mansion? 

“It’s a good thing I didn’t make it for you, Hugh,” Fran replies. 

You blink out of your momentary panic. As if Ransom ever stayed so long with his grandfather. He’d be long gone by the time you got back. You scurry out the door, closing it with the softest click.

The breeze bites through the air. It stings your face with its crisp coolness. You wrap your scarf tighter around your neck and bundle your hands deeper into your sleeves. On the threshold of winter, you dread the thought of the first snow. 

You wait a moment for your car to warm before driving down the road to town. Thoughts mull in your mind, but music tunes them out. The radio already blasting holiday songs on repeat, prompting another train of thought to occupy you. Your first holiday not alone. Gifts for Lance. Holiday plans and the small, hopeful feeling warm in your chest.

You find a parking spot at the library and exit your car. The cold wind bustles you inside and you walk to the front counter. Used to your face, the librarians move quickly to check-out Harlan’s book to you. You smile and thank them, and then you’re on your way back, with little time to get your head on straight when thoughts of Ransom resurface. 

Parking the car, you linger a moment in the quickly dissipating heat. The car door slams behind you. A few quick strides take you back up the steps and into the house. You shiver as you undress your outerwear, hanging each piece up on your hook—coat, hat, scarf, mittens. 

You pause to listen. Straining to see if you can hear Ransom’s voice anywhere in the house. Knowing how much he likes to hear himself speak. Nothing. A sigh of relief blows past your lips. 

The stairs creak on your ascent. Marta greets you on her way down, a furrow between her brow. You almost ask her about it, but she slips away in a quick descent. 

You make it to the second landing and stop. He’s standing right there. Staring at a painting on the wall—one you’d admired before, reminiscent of Artemisia Gentileschi. One you pass multiple times a day on your way up to Harlan’s study. One of your favorite pieces in the house, really. 

Wishing to turn invisible just for a moment, you clutch the book close to your chest and close your eyes. With determination, you open them and march past Ransom, ignoring his presence. Yet, in your periphery, his head turns. 

“Oh,” he says—is there a tinge of affection in his tone? He cocks his head to the side and takes a long perusal of your body. His eyes narrow. “Where have you been?” Any question of tenderness vanishes with the question. Replaced by his usual derision.

You hold up the book in explanation. He squints at the cover and his lips part, but he doesn’t say anything. He seems to think better of a comment and looks back to the painting. 

“If you’ll excuse me then, Mr. Drysdale.” 

His jaw ticks in irritation. Eyes flashing toward you, he grits, “Call me Ransom, pidge.” 

You step sideways toward the stairs up to Harlan’s personal study. “Right,” you mutter under your breath. “I just thought—” You shake your head. A buzz in your pocket catches your attention. You pull the screen halfway out to check. The preview of a text from Lance shines up at you. Your lips twitch toward a smile as you tuck it away. “Nevermind.” You make it up two steps before you hear his voice again. 

“Is Lance treating you right?”

You might have thought the question just a figment of your imagination—prone as you are to those. But turning around, he watches you curiously. Your lips part, stunned.

“How did you know about him?” you ask with a glance over your shoulder to the upstairs door, drawn but not closed. Praying that Harlan won’t be privy to this unexpected conversation. 

“Friend of a friend,” Ransom replies with a shrug. But his eyes do not leave yours. It unsettles you, the steadiness of his focus. 

You swallow down your unease. “Why do you care?” you prod. Your face scrunches in an expression of dubiousness. 

Ransom blinks and looks away to the painting again. “I don’t.” The words rasp between his teeth.

“Right,” you mutter under your breath. “Well, Ransom.” Your fingers tap on the book cover. “I, uh, hope you have a nice rest of your day.” 

You retreat up the rest of the stairs and enter Harlan’s study. With a great huff of air releasing your nerves and pent-up frustration, you glance at your boss. A curious expression adorns his features. Your stomach flips, but you ignore it and hand over his book, ready to get back to work. You’re sure he’ll ask his questions later. 

As for you, you’ve got some answered. Like the fantasy of whether Ransom would really be such a horrible option. The answer is yes. No matter how well he fucked you or how he sent you reeling in your throes of passion, he is not the man for you. Of that, you’re now absolutely certain. 

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #dark #dark fic #lance tucker fanfic #lance tucker fanfiction #lance tucker x reader #smut #yandere vibes #tw stalking #stalking #18+ #minors dni

[ellephlox]

audiometry

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

Summary: You want to test Matt’s hearing and it becomes something of a game between the two of you.

Warnings: none, purely fluff

A/N: ahh so I’ve posted on ao3 but never on tumblr... so hello tumblr world! I’m also uploading this on my ao3 so if you’d prefer to read it there, click this link here. Thanks for reading! (trying to post this again bc the first time it didn’t show up under the tags?? idk let’s hope this works)

Testing Matt’s hearing had become something of a game.

It began unintentionally, on a gray Sunday morning. Rain hammered its tirade on the windows in Matt’s apartment, dripping downward with the neon tint supplied by the billboard beyond. Shortly after breakfast you curled up on the sofa with your book, and Matt followed suit, settling down and tucking your legs over his lap as you stretched out comfortably. His own book was new; it was a braille copy of A Game of Thrones, which you had bought for him on his birthday after insisting for a year that he read the series.

These were the kinds of days you liked best. Quiet, just you and Matt — with the important factor of him being intact, and not bleeding from a patrol — and with no errands to do.

“Where’re you going?” you asked, without glancing up from your book, as Matt suddenly stood and entered the bedroom. He didn’t answer, but wordlessly came out with a blanket. It was an expensive one, but that was to be expected of all the fabrics Matt owned; cheap blankets, he had admitted to you, felt like sandpaper on his skin.

He unfolded the blanket and gently spread it over both of your laps as he sat back down, this time closer to you. “You’re cold.”

“How’d you know? Are you sure you’re not just secretly a psychic?”

He laughed. “I could hear your goosebumps rising.”

“Seriously? What do they sound like?”

He considered your question, smiling slightly as his eyes fell on a spot somewhere a few inches from your face. “You know those disposable foam ear plugs — the sound they make when they expand in your ears? Sort of like that. Except hundreds of them at once, and at a smaller magnitude.”

“Okay. I’m imagining it. Uh, sorry you have to constantly hear my body,” you said, suddenly feeling abashed at all the times that you played with your hair, or picked at a scab, or ground your teeth. “That can’t be very enjoyable.”

Matt’s hand traced your leg under the blanket. “I like it. I like your presence.”

“Can you hear my eyeballs moving?”

“If I concentrate.”

“How about my cells? Can you hear them doing mitosis or whatever?” you said, sitting up and putting your book down. “Or, I don’t know, the mitochondria doing its powerhouse of the cell sort of thing?”

“I have no idea what that’s supposed to sound like,” Matt said, his own smile stretched out into a grin now. “If I knew what I was listening for, then maybe.”

“I refuse to believe that you can hear at a cellular level,” you said, playfully pushing him. “You’re kidding now.” You looked at him doubtfully. “Right?”

“I might be exaggerating just a little to impress a really attractive girl sitting across from me.”

“Ha. Right. Says the man who can’t actually see if I’m attractive or not.” You crawled on top of his lap and leaned into his chest, wrapping the blanket more tightly around the two of you. “On the other hand, I can inform you quite confidently that you are very handsome. And you know I’m not lying, so you have to accept that as an undeniable fact.”

“Unless you’re just a bad judge of physical features.”

You lay there for a minute, your head pressed against his chest. “Also, sorry for being loud with my heartbeat. Doesn’t it ever get annoying?”

His chest moved under you as he laughed. “Why are you apologizing for my ears?”

You tilted your head back to look at him again. It was far too easy to get lost in his eyes, and he had absolutely no idea how beautiful they were. Life just wasn’t fair. “You know what’s embarrassing?” you asked.

“I thought we established that I’m not a psychic.”

“The jury is still out on that one, Murdock.” Lawyer puns had become your new sense of humor. “But anyway. It’s embarrassing that I’m sitting here, my ear literally pressed against your chest, and yet I can’t hear your heartbeat. But you could probably hear mine banging away while I’m showering, or cooking, or—”

“And I love it.”

“That’s not the point! I’m loud, all the time! And this is my formal apology for my heartbeat.”

Matt leaned down and kissed your forehead. “You’re insane.”

And that was how it began — the conversation. Later that day, while fixing yourself a lunch made of leftover pasta and vegetables from the evening before, the sudden desire to test Matt’s hearing was too tempting to ignore. He was in the bathroom, washing blood out of the Daredevil suit, with the faucet running.

You put in your earbuds and turned the volume down so that it was hardly above silence. While the microwaving was heating up your plate, you typed in the first song that came to your head and pressed play.

Even music on the lowest volume setting of earbuds was apparently not immune to Matt’s ears. Which didn’t surprise you, really; the way his head cocked immediately was to be expected.

“You’re listening to... that song from Titanic?” he said, bewildered, emerging from the bathroom with hands stained red.

You pulled your earbuds out. “You have passed level one, Murdock,” you told him gravely.

His expression, if anything, was more baffled. “Level one of what? Recognizing bad music?”

“Celine Dion is not bad music. This song is iconic.”

“It’s campy.”

“If you dare to insult Titanic, I will not hesitate to launch an offensive against you,” you warned him. “And don’t think that your Daredevillish ways will protect you against my wrath.”

You never explained to him what exactly he had passed. Instead, you waited for an opportunity to initiate level two, which you took the time to plan out rather than thinking of something spontaneously.

This stage involved Foggy. When Matt was out doing his... well, his side job, you had taken the opportunity to fill Foggy in on your plan — which was quite simply nothing more than increasing distance every time until Matt didn’t catch the sound of “My Heart Will Go On” playing in your earbuds — and he was, as to be expected, profoundly amused by it.

Which was why, with his suggestion, you were now currently sitting on the sofa that clients sat on in the office of Nelson and Murdock. Karen was sitting at her desk, acting completely nonchalant as though you weren’t there, as per your request over the phone the night before. Foggy had texted you once Matt was safely in his office with the door closed. You could see him through the glass windows, his fingers running over the braille display and his forehead tense with focus.

So long as Matt’s door stayed shut (“because otherwise he’ll smell you,” Foggy had helpfully reminded you), and if you walked with a gait different than usual, there was no reason that he should think you were anyone other than a client waiting. That was why it was important to not draw attention to yourself as you entered; any anxious feelings would make bring Matt’s attention to your heartbeat and likely give away your identity.

Matt’s reaction was instantaneous the moment you hit play on your phone and the first few notes of the song began. His head tilted and confusion crossed his face before he stood up and exited his office.

“Level two is now passed,” you told him, standing and wrapping your arms around him. His fingers danced at your back, where your dress left a bit of skin exposed by your shoulder blades.

“Why aren’t you at work?” he asked.

“It’s good to see you too, Matt,” you said sarcastically, straightening his tie. “I’m on lunch break. I almost got hit by a car sprinting here to put you through level two.”

“Not funny. So you’re just going to keep testing me with Titanic music? That’s what this is about?”

“Perhaps. And now I have to go before my lunch break turns into precious PTO.” You gave him a peck on the cheek. “Go save the world, one legal document at a time.”

And thus the planning for level three started. This time, you wanted it to be significantly harder. The ideal setting for that was Josie’s, where the loud music, clinking of drinks, and drunken chatter of the patrons would surely drown out any tiny sounds that Celine Dion could make through the low volume of your earbuds.

You excused yourself from the table once Matt and Foggy were a few drinks into the evening, smiling to yourself as you slipped your purse over your shoulder and made your way out into the brisk night air.

The whole lie detector part of Matt Murdock made tasks like this more difficult than you would have liked. You had finally settled on telling him you had to make a quick run to the convenience store because you’d forgotten you ran out of deodorant that morning and needed to buy more — which was a truth, and though you had the chance to buy more earlier in the day, you’d held off specifically to use it as an excuse.

Matt had accepted it without question, only smiling and squeezing your hand. No doubt he’d be listening to your footsteps the whole way to ensure you were safe, despite the fact that the store was only across the street. But footsteps were a lot louder than your earbuds.

You only clicked play once you were in the back of the convenience store, standing by the slushie machine as it churned slowly. Now all you had to do was wait about a minute; if Matt didn’t show up by then, you’d assume he couldn’t hear the music.

A teen working the register was lethargically twirling a pen in the air. He glanced at you briefly, then went back to rolling the pen between his fingers. You waited patiently, growing more surprised with each moment that Matt didn’t walk through the door. The song was nearing the chorus now. Can he not hear it?

Perhaps he was too distracted by the drinks and Foggy. He’d have to be focusing specifically on you to hear the music, and even then, you weren’t sure if he could hear it from across the street with all of the noise at Josie’s drowning out everything. The chorus of the song droned on in your ears. Ten more seconds and then level three would be a bust.

But then the bell of the door rang, and in walked Matt, his shirt unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves rolled upwards. His face was flushed slightly and his hair was askew as he turned towards you, tapping his cane rhythmically in front of him. He knocked it into the edge of a shelf full of candy, then corrected his path, sending an apologetic glance towards the teen as though to say, Sorry about that. Seriously, Matt Murdock could have been destined for the stage, you thought to yourself, watching the performance interestedly.

“Hey. I’m over here,” you finally said, covering for him before the teen could grow suspicious about the way Matt was now making a beeline towards where you were.

“You called?” he said, smirking and taking the earbuds out of your ears.

“You heard it,” you said, delighted. “I wasn’t sure about this one. Thought you weren’t going to pass.”

“I don’t think anything could block out those awful high notes.”

“That sounds like a challenge. Next level is going to be near impossible. I’m warning you now.”

He took your elbow as you exited the aisle. “Didn’t you need deodorant?”

“Oh, yeah.” You doubled back to the cosmetics section and grabbed the first stick in the brand that you like. “See? I knew not to lie to you, even about deodorant.”

“Mm. I love that deodorant,” he added, this time in a low voice so that the teen wouldn’t hear. “Smells so good on you.”

“I haven’t even taken the cap off!” You approached the counter and paid for it; only once you were back out in the cool night air did you continue. “You know what’s happening after this hearing test, then. A smelling test is in your future.”

“I can hardly wait,” he said dryly.

But first was the matter of level four. You waited at least two weeks — better to catch him off guard, now that he was just waiting for the opening notes of “My Heart Will Go On”. Now he was onto you even when you unfolded your earbuds for harmless reasons.

“I hear you,” he had said suddenly from the bathroom one day as you took out a cookbook to make a loaf of bread, untangling your earbuds at the same time to listen to a podcast as you baked.

“Good try,” you said, shaking the earbuds. “But I’m not going to be listening to music.”

The same thing had happened when you had left to go to work. Matt was shaving, foam still on his face as he leaned in to kiss you, leaving shaving cream on your face. You laughed and wiped it off as you wrapped your coat around you and headed out of his apartment. Once on the street you took out your earbuds, and before you had even gotten the left earbud in, your phone rang.

Matt’s name was on the screen. “Did I forget something?” you said anxiously, already digging through your purse to make sure you had grabbed your keys and wallet.

“No. But I hear your earbuds.” He paused. “Was this level four? Did I pass?”

“You passed a nonexistent test. Because this isn’t level four. Only Celine Dion will indicate level four,” you informed him. “And I want you to start calling me Pavlov, by the way.”

“I’m assuming that makes me one of Pavlov’s dogs?”

“You got it,” you said, grinning.

And so another week passed, now with you purposely taking out your earbuds to give him false alarms, and relishing the way he cocked his head every time, listening for the opening notes.

Level four, you had decided, was going to take place while he was out being Daredevil. The tricky part would be identifying where he actually was — seeing as the man was like a flying squirrel, moving across the rooftops with far too much alacrity. Finally, almost a month after level three, you got your chance.

“You heading out?” you asked Matt that evening.

He was already climbing into the suit, his eyes fixed somewhere on the floor. “I shouldn’t be out too late. It’s been quiet lately, with the cooler weather.”

“I’ll stay up for you.”

“You don’t need to do that, sweetheart. You have work tomorrow.”

“I want to,” you insisted. But not for the reason you’re thinking, Matt. “Besides, I’ve got my book to finish. And you need someone awake back here in case you need to be stitched up again.” You got up from your spot on the couch and padded over to him. His arms pulled you in tightly, and you stood for a moment, soaking up the moment.

“Call me if you need anything,” you whispered, and then he was up the stairs, leaving through the rooftop access.

Giving him at least thirty minutes to get far away was necessary. You forced yourself to stay cool and collected, in case Matt was still able to hear your heartbeat, and settled back onto the sofa with your book.

Originally you had thought of calling him, using an excuse of just wanting to know how his evening was going in order to find out where he was. But calling Matt on his burner, which was meant for emergencies, felt like a big no-no in your mind. You had no intentions of being the girl who cried wolf, so you had discarded that idea as soon as it came into your head. The only remaining option to find Matt while he was patrolling was accidentally — by the means of a live camera positioned exactly in the direction of a street in Hell’s Kitchen.

It was a lucky find. While browsing online, you had stumbled across a website of webcams set up around the world. Bless whoever created EarthCam.com. And, fortunately, there was a camera conveniently set up at 9th and 34th, which was the very edge of Hell’s Kitchen. That meant a couple hours each night of sitting idly by your laptop, reading while keeping an eye on the rooftops for any movement.

Each night had passed by without luck until tonight. A sudden flash of movement made you look up, expecting it to be just another bird or car going by, but sure enough, there was a small figure on the roof of the building to the right, and he was standing in the way that only the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen stood, listening for the sounds of the city. You were on your feet immediately, book falling onto the floor as you dashed towards the door and slipped your shoes on.

Of course it was tonight, when you had already showered and gotten into pajamas, you thought, grumbling to yourself as you hurried down the hallway. If anyone saw you, they’d think you were out of your mind; your hair was tousled and you were borrowing a large coat of Matt’s because yours was back in the closet. It hung low and you had never felt more frumpy.

Earbuds in your pocket, you made it to the sidewalk and hailed the first cab you found to head south towards 37th.

A distance of three blocks would be the fourth level, you had decided, after consulting Foggy on what an appropriate difficulty would be. The cab driver was hesitant to let you out on the street, which was deserted and dark, but you just thanked him and paid.

Besides, you had no fears of getting jumped. The Devil was near, and if anyone approached you, a shout would be all you needed to alert Matt to your location. Although that would be less than ideal because it would butcher your plan, you reflected, settling yourself in front of the open gates to a Poland Springs delivery zone. Packages of water bottles sat in crates behind you, and across the street was a tailor and parking garage.

Your fingers were cold in the night air. Fumbling for your phone, you opened Spotify, plugging in your earbuds with anticipation. You didn’t dare waste any more time checking the Earth Cam to see if Matt was still on that rooftop, because each second was one second more that he could be getting out of earshot of your earbuds — or worse, getting close enough to ruin the experiment.

Finally you typed in the song, and your thumb was a millimeter away from hitting play when strong hands grabbed you from behind, pulling you back by your shoulders. You yelped and whirled around, heart hammering in your chest, only to find yourself face-to-face with the devil.

“You scared me!” you whispered, yanking out your earbuds. “I thought you were—”

“It’s not a good idea to be out here alone at night. Someone pretty like you might get some unwanted attention,” he said, his voice coarse and even. It struck you then that this wasn’t Matt Murdock. This was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen standing in front of you.

“I didn’t get to even start level four,” you said in a small voice. “How’d you find me here?”

“You should breathe a little quieter if you want to go incognito, love.”

“I was hardly making a sound!”

“That hitch in your breath you always make when you climb out of a vehicle is hard to miss. After that it was too easy to recognize your heartbeat.”

You sighed. “Alright. Fine. I suppose that can count as beating level four, if you were able to hear me exhaling or whatev—”

You were cut off by Matt pulling you forward and ramming his lips against yours. His breath was warm in the night air and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

“I win,” he said softly. “Consider level four over.”

“Done,” you said, nearly choking on the word. “Um, you’ve passed the hearing test with flying colors, Mr. Daredevil.”

His response was a cocky grin as he leaned in and kissed you again. You closed your eyes and pressed into him. The suit wasn’t exactly snuggly to hug, but it was all strength and power, and somehow that was almost more enjoyable.

But the moment had to end, and he broke away from you, far sooner than you would have liked. “Someone’s in trouble. I can hear screaming,” he said. “I have to go. There’s a cab about a hundred meters away you can take. Are you all good to get home by yourself?”

“Yeah, of course.” You stepped away. “Please be careful?”

“Always am,” he said, and if you could hear heartbeats, you were certain that his would’ve skipped right there with what was doubtlessly a lie, but as it was, you simply frowned at him.

“And I’ll listen to make sure you get into the cab safely,” he added. “I’ll see you soon.”

You watched him scale the nearby fire escape with dexterity, admiring the way he swung himself up with ease. Smiling to yourself, you hurried to the approaching cab, casting one last look at the rooftop. Matt was already gone, and all that remained of the empty street were the twinkling, dim lights of the street lamps below.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #reader insert #marvel

[quillofspirit]

2023 fic recs

If there's one thing to know about me, is that I love to read! and I love to share the good fics, so I figured I would put them all on one list💚

pssst! it's my first time doing anything like this, so if you have recommendations for the format, please do leave them in the comments or drop me a message! thanks xx

Key 🍬 fluff 🧯 spicy 🌡️ smut ⛈️ angst 🌪️ all

For people I have tagged, please let me know if there is anything you’d like me to add or remove — like a link to another account. It’ll be my pleasure☺️

Lord of the Rings (and related)

⛈️🧯Fuck the Forbidden pt. 1 by @entishramblings

Boromir x mermaidfem!oc Teens and Up but read the warnings carefully 9,500 words

Now I want mermaids in everything. why aren’t there mermaids in everything? The descriptions are so well done, everything is so vividly easy to visualize, oh I just loved it.

I am so hyped for pt 2!!

🍬⛈️ Healing Touch by @ass-deep-in-demons

Boromir x fem!oc Teens and Up 4,350 words

My film studies degree was very happy about the descriptions of movement in this one - it’s a little specific but hear me out. It’s much easier to see the actors playing the scene when it’s described this well! THAT ENDING, I have to say I joined Legolas, and I don’t have excuses.

I cannot wait to read the rest of the adventures of Joanna!

🍬 I Might Need to Kiss You by @fizzyxcustard

Thorin Oakenshield x fem!reader 400 words

I was squealing, this is so sweet. like the perfect little pick me up when you need a reminder, and Thorin is nothing if not a good king to his subjects 😇

🍬 Sweet Conversations by @glassgulls

Haldir x fem!reader Teens and Up 5,360 words

did I almost break my mouse when I clicked on this? noooo

Would I do it again? approximately 5 times since ☺️

Who doesn’t love sneaking around and kissing pretty elves, especially when they propose the idea so nicely… Just read it, you’re welcome

⛈️🧯Transformed by @sotwk

Thranduil’s son OC x fem!reader Teens and Up 2,400 words

There are at least two werewolves! When I tell you I read it three nights in a row, just to truly catch all the little things that made me go absolutely feral this so lovely to read. Yes, there’s gore (only a little bit) and there’s angst, but there’s also dialogue that would be made into gifs were it a movie.

Pirates of the Caribbeans

🌪️Catch the Wind by eriathiel (@esta-elavaris)

James Norrington x fem!oc Explicit 418,000 words

101 chapters of epic, pirates, and sweetness. The definition of you will suffer and you will like it. I finished this in like two days, because I couldn’t put it down, like a child on Halloween night going through their whole bag of candy.

⛈️🍬 Fallen Through Time by eriathiel (@esta-elavaris)

Catch the Wind AU Mature Ongoing; 34,000 words

12 Chapters so far, but it’s probably going to make me want to read everything about Theodora again. I am very normal about this character. 😌

Other fandoms

🌡️One of Those days by @capricornafterdark

Jason Todd x fem!reader Explicit 750 words

Sometimes you need to be taken care of, and sometimes its easier to take care of others.

🍬Patience by @velvetcloxds

Charlie Swan x fem!reader Just straight cuteness 600 words

A cute yet serious conversation with Charlie

🌡️That Takes Trust Darlin by @capricornafterdark

Jason Todd x transmasc!reader Explicit 1,950 words

It takes a lot of trust to tell a person about your desires, and even more when you spend your time catching villains.

🌪️ What Happens After You? by StrengthBeforeWeakness

Ominis Gaunt x fem!oc Mature 219,000 words

A badass Ravenclaw, sweet sweet Garreth, and dark!Sebastian. I am tempted to say it’s almost a Hogwarts Legacy AU because the lore in this fic is so incredible, it feels new again.

These are my headers and dividers, please do not use them.

#fic rec #lotr #lord of the rings #haldir #haldir x reader #lotr fanfic #Lord of the rings fanfiction #haldir fanfiction #gelir thranduilion #sotwk oc #gelir x reader #the hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin x reader #Thorin x fem!reader #Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader #potc #pirates of the caribbean #potc fanfic #pirates of the caribbean fanfiction #James Norrington #James Norrington x fem!oc #charlie swan #charlie swan x reader #charlie swan fanfiction #charlie swan fic #jason todd #red hood #red hood smut #jason todd x reader

[modernperplexity]

Mine Ch. 2: The Waiting Room

Chapter Rating: E (+18) Minors DNI, mention of alcohol consumption and substance abuse.

Word Count: 2539

A/N: Chapter 2 is here y'all! Thank you for bearing with me. As some of you may have read in my last update, I moved across the country. It took some time to get settled and to get in a headspace where I could write again. Anywho, I am excited for you to read this chapter. We'll get to see more of the boys and Frankie being a great dad 🤍 As a reminder my asks are always open. I hope you enjoy Chapter 2!

Quick shout out to @splashofbi-fic-reblogs your comment on chapter 1 inspired one of the lines, thank you for that!

If you'd like to join the tag list click here :)

Mine Masterlist

Chapter 2 : The Waiting Room

“Catfish..what happened back there? It seemed like you were on your A-game. I thought you’d asked her to text you or-” 

“Can we talk about this later?” Frankie closed the front door behind him “I’m exhausted, besides we have to go pick up Cami in the morning. My mom has...she has a date.” Frankie groaned internally, instantly regretting the last small detail he let slip.

“Shit man, even your Mom is dating...” Santiago chided with a chuckle until he was met with Frankie’s strong gaze in response,“Alright, alright...G’night”

Frankie couldn't sleep that night, despite feeling exhausted. The events of the evening kept him restless, replaying his time with you and thinking of ways he could have done better. My god was he rusty, Santiago was right, it had been too long since he had put himself out there. Pope had been a great friend, teasing aside, who cared about Frankie's well-being and encouraged him to move forward and past the darkness that he had seen his friend grapple with. He was the reason Frankie had downloaded the latest dating apps only to never complete his profile. He figured if he met someone, he prefer it to be in person. 

His thoughts raced through the night. Would anyone want someone so broken with a past like his? Would you? You were so beautiful, smart, and interesting and he was just Francisco Morales the ex-pilot and recovering addict. It’s not like it mattered anyway, he reckoned he’d never see you again. His eyelids eventually grew heavy, as the Netflix show he left playing lulled him to sleep.

“Frankie..” Your heartbeat quickened for two reasons. First, you’d never imagine you’d see the man ever again. Second, your boss had just entered the waiting room and talked with the receptionist at the front desk. Luckily, she was too far away to notice the lack of formality in your interaction.

“Santiago, that little shit.” Frankie muttered under his breath. Your mind too preoccupied to fully register the moment.

“Uh..why don’t we make our way to my office?”

He followed close behind as you walked down the hall. It wasn’t lost on him how Camila’s eyes sparkled when she saw you. How she ran up to greet you and took your hand immediately. His heart was melting at the sight until the moment caught up to him. He had lost your number and figured you misinterpreted his lack of initiation as a sign of rejection. Now he was here, in your office. He thought it some trick of fate, or the handiwork of one he referred to as Pope. 

Camila had no patience for you both and had contently occupied herself with the toys you had laid out for her session. Frankie inched toward the edge of his seat, “I’m so sorry. I would’ve called-”

“There’s really no need to explain, Mr. Morales” You waived him off, denying every inch of curiosity that urged you to hear his explanation. He has a child! A daughter, who so happens to be your patient. And what of her mother? Had you given your number out to a married man? 

How is this happening right now.. here out of all places!?

“But I want to... Please.” His pleading voice interrupted the racing thoughts that held your attention. How could you deny those deep brown eyes? You quietly surrendered with a nod. 

“If you don’t mind..” You looked out the sidelite of your office door, searching for any passersby in the hall, “keeping your voice low, the walls are pretty thin.”

“Right..well, the ink on my hand smeared when I grabbed the beers. I tried to make out the numbers but they were too far gone. I was kicking myself for not asking you to write down your name and number in my contacts or asking you to text me....or-” He sighed and looked at Cami who had now moved on to the animal puzzle at the kid-sized table to the left of him.

His earnest expression rendered you defenseless “Oh god-” A chuckle got away from you, “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you. It’s just- I don’t know if it was the alcohol or my nervousness but I was trying to be mysterious and I see now that it completely backfired. Full disclosure, I never give out my number like that.”

The worry lines on his forehead eased their tension and a half smile sheepishly emerged over his pouty lips, “There was quite literally nothing I could go off. I considered asking the bartender for the name he saw on your credit card but I didn’t want it to seem like I was some creep.” He laughed, “Santiago, would not stop teasing me the whole weekend. He’s been on me to start dating again.” His hand dragged over his mouth, “God, I’m gonna kill him”.

“So… you’re not married?” You moved from the edge of the desk to a chair closer to him. Your eyes searching his for an answer.

“No, I’ve never been. I thought about it- thought it would be good for Cami when we found out we were expecting but Ashley… Camila’s mother, left us when she was still a baby.” He looked at his daughter with such devotion and admiration. You could see the hint of pain behind his eyes. 

Your heart sank, “Mr. Morales, I am so sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult that must have been for you and Camila.”

“I really wish I could change things. I know I had my faults, I just wished I could’ve turned things around sooner for Camila’s sake. If I had, maybe she’d still have a mother and maybe she wouldn’t be so affected…” He couldn’t grasp why he was opening up like this, so quickly and effortlessly. It was not like him at all. It took him weeks to muster up the courage and talk about this with Will and Ben, who had both been a rock for him during his relapses and recovery periods. Hell, it took him a while to even realize what he was feeling. There was something about your presence, your soothing voice, and your gentle eyes that made his defenses dissolve.

“Is it…is it my fault?” You looked at him with concern, “That she is having a hard time talking?”

“You can’t blame yourself, Frankie” His heartbeat quickened at the sound of his name, “There are so many factors that play into why general speech delays happen- genetics, pregnancy complications, environmental factors... Please don’t punish yourself for this.” 

You turned your gaze to Cami, who had so many of her handsome father’s features. She was all Frankie, from her warm chocolate curls to her rosy little lips. “You’re here and that’s what matters. I promise to do my best to help you and Cami achieve her goals.” The tightness in your throat reminded you that regardless of the gravitational pull you felt towards him the night you met, you needed to be professional. Your hard work and license were on the line. 

Get it together, state your boundaries. 

“With that in mind, I have to be upfront with you. I do my best to establish a professional relationship with my patient’s parents, but as you can already imagine there are lines I do not..cannot cross regardless of how we first met.”

“I understand. I would not want to jeopardize you in any way.” He lifted his cap to run his fingers through his hair, “But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay and participate in Cami’s sessions.”

“Oh.. absolutely! I think it will be beneficial. You’ll get to see and learn the techniques I use during her sessions so you use them at home” The half-smile that quickened your heartbeat made its appearance once more.

You taught him the techniques you’d be using and activities that he could implement at home to help foster a learning environment for his daughter. Cami was quick to engage with you and receptive to your encouragement. She was particularly fond of bursting bubbles and clapping along to the songs you sang with her. Frankie felt a sense of warmth well up in his heart as he watched his daughter enjoy her time with you. Although he couldn't act on this feeling, he chose not to resist it.

“Jesus Fish, we were starting to get worried. I was about to run out to get backup cases of beer in case you didn’t make it.” 

“Sorry, we couldn’t find Bunzy. Pope and I just about turned the whole house upside down looking for him.” Ben rushed over to pick up Cami who had been reaching for him stuffed animal in hand, as they stepped into Ben’s backyard. “Tio Ben!” she exclaimed. 

“HOLY SHIT! She.. she.. just said my name!” 

Frankie’s chest swelled with pride at Camila’s progress, hardly noticing Ben’s profanity. Content in knowing that Cami was now beginning to use new two-word phrases.

“Ben! Language!” Will scowled at his brother and took a break from manning the grill to place a kiss on Camila’s cheek, “Tio Will is so proud of you!”

“I’m sorry! This is a big f-reaking deal!” Ben was beaming at the fact that his name was the first of the group to be mastered by little Camila. “Guess those speech sessions are really paying off eh? Thanks to a certain…therapist?” A knowing smile appeared on his lips as he glanced at Frankie, whose face turned multiple shades of red in response.

 “Pope, seriously!?” 

Santiago took a sip of his beer “In my defense…yeah- I got nothin’.”

“Nice of you to inform everyone…don’t think I’ve forgotten how you left out a key detail that night!”

“Don’t get too worked up Catfish. You’ve been acting different ever since the night at the bar.” Will added as he cracked open a beer, handing it to Frankie. “It didn’t take long to figure out.” 

“OH yeah! Your dad’s got it…BAD” Ben added as he placed his black cap on a giggling Cami, “So… are you going for it? What’s the plan?”

“There is no plan, there can't be a plan” Ben groans, “She could get fired, and lose her license.. Besides, Cami does so well with her. I mean, you heard her earlier. I don’t wanna mess this up for her. Lord knows I’ve already put her through enough.”

“What about after Cam graduates?” Santiago grabbed a piece of steak and sat down at the patio table, “She’s already saying Ben’s name and it’s only been…what.. a couple of weeks?”

“She made it clear that our relationship is strictly professional” 

“Papi! Eat!” Camila’s cries for food offered a welcome distraction from the current topic of conversation. Frankie reached for the toddler-friendly snacks he packed and settled her on his lap. Hearing his little girl’s progress both in and out of the speech clinic gave him peace; something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

“Hey! Sorry I missed your call. I was at the gym earlier. I’m just picking up a few things for tonight.” You chimed over the phone as you scanned the wine selection of your local Trader Joe’s. Michele had planned a wine and paint night at her place- something you hadn’t done in a while. This meant one thing, she was going all out and would be expecting an update on your current situation. 

“Oh, take your time! But do you think you can bring extra popcorn? Turns out Lexi can make it after all.”

“Sure, no prob- oof!” You glanced down at the curly pigtails of a little girl who had quite literally run into you, her little arms wrapping around your calves.

“Miss!” She said, grasping you a little tighter.

“Hey, Michele? Let me call you back.” You squatted down to greet her, “We really gotta stop meeting like this Cami. Your father wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” You chuckled for a second until it dawned on you. 

Shit! Where’s your dad?

Your heart began to race, your eyes searched down the aisles until you heard him calling Camila’s name in a panic. His face relaxed the instant he turned the aisle and spotted you walking toward him, Camila’s hand in yours. Your breath caught at the way his tan jacket framed his shoulders, how the curls you were so fond of peeked under the brim of his cap.

He rushed to his daughter scanning her face, her small cheeks engulfed by his hands “Jesus, Camila, don’t ever do that again!” The way he kissed and held her stirred up a warmth in your chest. A reaction proving more and more difficult to push away the more you saw him.

“Thank you so much!” he breathed,“I turned away for a second and she was gone. She must have seen you from afar.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all! I’m glad I bumped into her.” A smile lingered on your lips.

Frankie noticed your post work out glow, how your cheeks displayed a rosy shade of pink to match your workout gear that hugged the curves of your body. You looked different today, your demeanor was more relaxed out of the confines of the clinic. All this, thanks to your favorite yoga instructor. He wasn’t sure if it was the manner of your meeting or the fact that your smile never faded whenever he spoke to you that spurred on confidence within him. Surely a compliment would be harmless.

“You look very pretty today Miss” 

“Oh…thank you” You instinctively smile, and turn your attention to Cami in hopes Frankie wouldn’t notice you blush in response, “So do you two have anything fun planned today?”

“We just stopped by for some snacks before heading to the park. Thought it would be a good way to get her energy out… what about you?” He took a step closer, allowing you to take in the woody scent of his cologne, “What do speech teachers do on their days off?”

His question suddenly broke the spell cast by his scent, “I have a date…a girl date really”, you fumbled your words nervously, “My best friend planned a wine and paint night and put in charge of the wine and the popcorn.”

For a brief moment, you could have sworn you saw a tinge of disappointment cast over his expression at the mention of a date. You didn’t want to dwell on it too much, not here. Not now while you felt more susceptible to his charm.

“I’ll have to try that sometime. Though I have to admit, I don’t think Cami’s paint brushes will do” He chuckled turning to look at his little one who was starting to fuss, “Well...I won’t take more of your time, I think Cami here is ready for the park. See you Monday?”

“See you Monday.”

You bit your lip trying to hold back the grin he gave you as you walked towards your car and lifted the phone to your ear, “I was going to wait until I got to your place to share but.. guess who I just bumped into?”

Previous Chapter / Chapter 3

Tag list:

@brilliantopposite187

@casa-boiardi

@gaypoetsblog

@jitterbugs927

@kittenlittle24

@leed-bbg

@ssuperficialspacecadett

@spookyjamie333

#frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fic #frankie morales #mine series #modernperplexity #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom

[kaybreezy3000]

Master Post

~~~ I aim to please and consider all suggestions and requests via my ‘Ask Stuff’ button, so feel free to drop me an idea if you’d like to see anything specific in my writing or art, or if you have any thoughts you want to share~~~

List with links for my stories and art featuring Number Five (TUA)

-see summaries and detailed tags on individual stories once you click the links

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Under Your Hat~ (rated M/Explicit for sexual content but you can still read this and enjoy it by skipping those parts using the ⚠️ symbol in the story for start and stop points.) (9827 words)

You never know what kind of trouble you might find if you put yourself out there and speak your mind, and tonight, that kind of trouble is Five Hargreeves.

~Set post season three. (the 5ish years later thing) Five is older, but still struggling with life and you happen to find yourself at a party with him.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, rough sex, spanking, daddy kink, humiliation play, and Five pretty much being the sweet and sexy guy I like to think he is under that hat.

'Hargreeves Home for Wayward Boys ~(rated G since you can easily skip the sexually explicit parts and still enjoy the story. There is a clear point to stop if you are avoiding that stuff 👍) (8711 words)

~Five is your employer and he's not happy with you. As the night unfolds, you have a very unexpected encounter with him...

~This story takes place where we left off with season three, but 5 years later. The name is a nod to hints of what might be coming, though I doubt the Netflix writers are going with my little storyline I have created for you.

~This one is sort of gift to all fanfiction readers and writers. May you always keep passwords on our documents and devices, or maybe not... 😂👌

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'Free at Last' - a short, general rated, image based/comic book style story blip of Dolores and Five

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‘Bad Things’

Five Hargreeves/Reader Insert (rated explicit for sexual content)(Dark and very messed up version of Five mixed with some ideas from the comic books)(see story for specific tags) (49,996 words)

Summary:

~Psychopathy is a neuropsychiatric disorder marked by deficient emotional responses, lack of empathy, the inability to distinguish between right and wrong, poor behavioral controls, and behaviors that contradict social norms which then commonly result in persistent antisocial deviance and criminal behavior. Enter, Five Hargreeves, everyone's favorite little psycho. Having been left in a new world with nothing, his mental state growing more and more dangerous, Five Hargreeves finds something he feels will keep him from going off the deep end, but just like in so many things he thinks that are wrong, the fact that he thinks this already proves he has.

Full Summary and Chapter One and Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five, Six, and Seven

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‘The Anti Hero’s Pitfall of Arrogance’

Five Hargeeves/Female OC (rated explicit for sexual content-see AO3 version for the Teen and up version)(starts when the Hargreeves are sixteen so that changes the timeline from the show a bit, but it still follows cannon material fairly closely with those changed in mined)(see story for specific tags) (44,599 words)

Chapter One and Two

Chapter Three and Four

Chapter Five, Six, and Seven

AO3 Teen and up Version

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‘In The Flesh’

Five Hargreeves/Reader Insert (rated G) (5337 words) (special request based off an extended scene from 'The Anti Hero’s Pitfall of Arrogance.’)(meant to be dark and very disturbing but with a heart filled message that is very Five.)

Link to 'In The Flesh’

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'The Devil Within’

Five Hargreeves/Reader Insert (rated explicit for sexual content) (This one is the smuttiest Five fiction I have ever written so there is no way to avoid those parts) (see story for specific tags but I leave many off to keep you surprised as you read) (23,134 words)

Chapter One and Two

Chapters Three and Four

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Paramour (The Umbrella Academy 3-part series)-Rated Teen because you can skip the many sexually explicit parts or potential triggers with chapter warnings and detailed end notes for what you missed in those parts.

-If you love Five and long rollercoaster ride stories that you can get lost in than this is a great read for you.

Five’s POV and centered on him, but it has all the Hargreeves and Female OC love interest, stays very true to cannon themes and for Character’s personalities.

- See specific tags per-story on A03

Part One: 'Number Five and the Girl  (227,442 words) (Starts pre-season one, age 16, coming of age angst, humor, sexual activity and trauma)

Part Two: 'Infinity’ (417,307 words) (Starts right at start of season three but not a show rewrite, and full of shockers and fun and angst and fluff and plenty of explicit fun)

Part Three: 'Oblivion’ (152,100 words) (Hurt Five and Sexy Five galore, my version season four finale)

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'No More the Victim’  

(132,130 words) (rated E-see tags in AO3) (Five in a very dark place/hurt/comfort/redemption)

Starts after very dark post Season Three but does get much lighter, angst, first-time, finding yourself, revenge, unexpected romance, sub/dom, sexual humor, overcoming tragedy. Five’s time travel fix-it optional finale to the show. 

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My co-authored works with Bad_Kitty

Link to all Bad_Kitty’s private works on AO3)

'The Text Mess’ (5576 words) (rated Teen and up) (Five and Klaus)

A text-based format story done with actual textboxes and phones to make it more fun. Full of hilarious images, sexual humor, Five is Five and Klaus is Klaus in this make you laugh and get the feels short story. Takes place in a blip in time post season three.

'Sharp Dressed Man’  (5514 words) (rated Explicit for sexual content)

Five and his lady love Vivian one shot based off of Bad_Kitty’s Halo Series-see link above. Humor based, sexy Five doing his sexy daddy thing. Christmas time story with a few of the other Hargreeves. Closet sexy craziness.

'When Number Five Steps out, He’s Gonna Do you In’ (8730 words, rated Explicit for sexual content)

The sequel one-shot to 'Sharp Dressed Man.’ Sexual humor, frustrated Five doing New Years things with the family. Lots of feels, sexy Five, a few of the fam, daddy Five getting it done and checking his naughty list off for the year. 

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My Art Featuring Number Five (TUA)

To view my Five art features on Tumblr hit this link

For stuff not on Tumbler see Original Five art from my various works  at this link (rated General)

Hand drawn sketches, graphic art in later chapters. 

My Naughtier Themed Number Five art (rated Mature)

Graphic art, sexual themes but nothing explicit

#five x you #number five fanfic #five hargreeves fanfiction #five x reader #The umbrella academy fanfiction #Five hargreeves imagine #The umbrella academy number five #number 5 #number five x reader #number five x oc #number five fanart #number five #five hargreeves #tua fanfic #kaybreezy-on-a03 #number five fanfiction #five hargreeves fanart #number five smut #five hargreeves smut #number five hargreeves

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid | Chapter 10

Word Count: 4.3K Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined. Chapter: 10/? A/N: cough cough sorry, dusting off this story after more than a year 😶 honestly, cannot believe it's taken me this long to update this story. So, if there are still any fans of it… Hey!!! I am so sorry for taking forever, but I will absolutely try to keep to my new writing schedule [if you wanna see it, it's on my Tumblr andreafmn]. Thank you to all the peeps that are reading. I hope you enjoy! My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! 

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Chapter 10

(Y/N) could not help the feeling that took over her. It was a giddy excitement that filled her as she rode back home. She couldn’t quite place it, only knowing what it could be from books she had read and movies she had seen.  

She liked him. She truly liked Derek Hale.  

Derek Hale.  

Derek Hale.  

Derek Hale.  

The name repeated inside her head like a grounding mantra. 

Derek Hale, the werewolf.  

Derek Hale, the alpha.  

Derek Hale, the most wanted man in her family.  

The girl wasn’t afraid of her feelings. Those she could guard, those she could shield from her world. Her emotions weren’t the ones she wanted to keep safe. She wanted to keep Derek safe — keep him safe. Her family had already caused him so much pain. Her own flesh had burned away his family like they were nothing more than insects. The same blood that rushed through her veins had been able to kill a group of innocent people leaving Derek on his own.   

That was what she wanted to protect him from. (Y/N) wanted him shielded from all the horror her family would continue to enforce. When she turned eighteen, she would be able to escape and find a way out of the circle that had forgotten the code of a hunter and had decided that supernatural lives were worthless.  

All they had to do was reach mid-December. Nine months, that’s all they needed. Nine months and they could dive head-first into whatever it was they were feeling. Whatever new adventure life wanted to throw their way.  

“Well, someone seems chipper now,” Isaac teased as (Y/N) balanced her motorcycle on its stand. “I take it things between Derek and you have been fixed?”   

“Something like that,” she chuckled. “We at least put some things on the table.”  

“What does that even mean?” 

Isaac followed her into the house, waiting for her answer. But she simply waltzed through the house, landing in the kitchen. She got a bottle of water and a slice of pizza out of the fridge, eating it without heating it up.  

“(Y/N), just tell me what you meant,” Isaac chuckled as he followed her to the living room. “If this is you being happy, I don’t like it.” 

“There’s not much to say, honestly,” she mumbled. “We just talked.” 

“Give me something here, (Y/N),” Isaac exasperated as he plopped down on the couch next to her. “Judging by the way you’re acting you two did more than just talk.” 

“Ew, Isaac,” (Y/N) gasped dramatically. “Need I remind you that I am a minor.” 

“He’s not that much older than us and you’re only 17 for a couple more months.” 

“9 months to be exact, but who’s counting?” The girl got up from the couch and headed back to the kitchen, dancing around all of her friend’s questions. “You know what this pizza needs? Ranch. It needs some ranch.”  

“(Y/N), why are you avoiding me?” 

“I’m not.”  

“You’ve been skating around the topic since you got here. I just wanna know what’s going on between the two of you.”  

“Truthfully, there’s nothing going on,” she shrugged. “There’s nothing that can go on just yet. Nothing for nine grueling months. Nothing more, nothing less.”  

“What happened a couple of hours ago wasn’t nothing, (Y/N),” he added. “There’s only a few years of difference between you. Are you really telling me you wouldn’t risk it?”  

“I could, Isaac, but not with him,” (Y/N) sighed. “I cannot give my family any ammunition against him. If they ever found out that we were together they would find a way to get the authorities involved and trap him afterward, even if he’s innocent. And that not only would put Derek in more danger, but it would set a target on you and everyone else. I simply cannot do that.”  

“We can protect ourselves, (Y/N).” He rounded the kitchen island, stopping once he was right next to her, and placed a comforting hand on her arm. “You deserve to be happy. I mean, Allison and Scott are making it work. Why can’t you?” 

“Are they making it work?” she questioned. “They sneak around all the time. They have to pretend they hate each other when they’re in school. They can’t admit they’re in love without putting the other in harm’s way. I don’t want that.”  

“So, instead you’re gonna pretend that you feel nothing for him? How is that the better option? In the long run, you’re only hurting yourselves.”  

“And what am I supposed to do, Isaac? What am I supposed to do if you guys get hurt because of a decision I made?  How could I live with myself if my family got their hands on you because of me?” (Y/N) spoke through gritted teeth, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. “I can’t do it. I refuse.”  

Isaac remained quiet for a beat, her words sinking into him as every second passed. He understood her need to protect them, the desperation to withhold her wants in order to keep everyone safe. “Is this about Josie?” he whispered, carefully choosing his next words. “Your job is not to protect everyone. At some point, you need to allow yourself to want things for yourself.”  

“I can’t. There are too many lives at risk right now and I won’t let anything happen to any of you if I can help it,” she responded sternly. “I don’t care if it takes a lifetime. If it means that you will all be safe, then I will stay away from him.” 

“You’re as stubborn as they come, (Y/N),” Isaac responded in defeat. He placed his hands on either side of her face, pressing his forehead to hers as he gifted her a smile. “But if you ever change your mind, just let me know. I’ve got your back, Argent.” 

“Thank you, Isaac. I’ve got your back too.” 

“You better,” he chuckled. “Now, let’s go to bed. We’ve got a couple of long days ahead of us.”  

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”  

*** 

School had been uneventful the next day, the only thing that could be felt was the anxious excitement of the students as talk of the secret rave kept spreading. Tickets were already scarce as it was and as more people knew of its existence the harder it would become to get them.  

Thankfully, talk of the rave was strong enough to quiet any whispers of what had transpired in the library. The fact that it had been completely destroyed by supernatural creatures the student body had no idea of had been hidden under the rumor that it had simply been a teenage fight. It was baffling and incomprehensible, yet everyone accepted the answer at face value. At the end of the day, it was simply school property and nothing more interesting.  

“Here you go,” Isaac said after math class was over, slipping (Y/N) a yellow and pink piece of paper. “One ticket for tomorrow night’s secret rave. Courtesy of one Derek Hale.”  

“Is that what you left so early this morning for? I thought they were already sold out!”  

“If there’s one thing I know about Derek it’s that he has connections. And that he’d stop at nothing to stop Jackson.”  

“You mean save,” (Y/N) corrected as she walked by his side to her locker. “We are going to save Jackson.”  

“Yeah, that.”  

“Seriously, Isaac. He’s being controlled by someone else and has no idea of what he’s doing,” she added. Her words were filled with compassion and worry, concerned for a boy that, though despicable, was innocent in the whole ordeal. “Jackson Whittemore might be a whole lot of things, but I know he’s not a killer.”  

“You sound like Scott,” Isaac chuckled. “I honestly don’t think I’ve ever heard more people rally behind that guy since he’s become a sort of murderer.”  

“Everyone deserves a chance,” (Y/N) said. “If they didn’t, I would have cut you off the second you turned into a cocky ass.”  

“Hey, I’ve always been nice to you. It’s other people I don’t like.” 

“Who? Stiles and Scott?” she teased. “Is it because Derek doesn’t like them?” 

“Contrary to popular belief, I can think for myself,” he scoffed lightly. “I don’t like them because they haven’t given me any reason to like them. That could change at any point, but it seems unlikely.”  

“And have you ever even talked to them?”  

“Not exactly,” he shrugged into his seat. “But I don’t really care to talk about that. Tonight, we’re gonna go see Scott’s boss, the vet. Apparently, he can help us catch Jackson tomorrow night. Wanna come with?”  

“I suppose I could. There’s not much happening back home,” she sighed happily. “I think it’s cause my dad’s away.” 

“Well then, we’ll have fun,” he smiled. “Just you, me, Scott, and Derek. What a fun group of people.” 

“I get along fine with everyone,” she returned the smile. “It’s Derek and you that need to learn how to be able to deal with other people.”  

“A couple of weeks ago you couldn’t even say more than five words to them. Now, you’re the biggest team player?”  

“What can I say? I really flourish in a stable environment.”  

“Between kanimas, werewolves, and hunters,” he laughed. “What a stable environment.” 

“At least I’m not moving at the end of the year,” she grinned, slamming the locked door closed. “Now, let’s go eat before we meet the vet. I can’t think on an empty stomach.”  

As the day transitioned into night, Isaac and (Y/N) left her house for Derek’s. It was in moments like those that the Argent girl forgot what her world had turned into. She wasn’t just going over to her crush’s house to admire him from afar as she spent time with her friend. No. She was on her way to pick up an alpha to figure out how to stop a reptilian-shapeshifting teenager.  

(Y/N) had only ever wanted to have a normal life, and for most of it she thought her biggest obstacle was moving every year. In reality, it was the fact that her parents had been secretly training her to become a supernatural hunter. Everything she had been craving was farther from her reach than she could have ever thought.  

Still, she could only deal with one problem at a time. Stopping Jackson was the most pressing matter and that’s what her mind had to focus on. Especially when half of the people she surrounded herself with wanted the boy dead. She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, stand for that. 

She killed the engine of her motorcycle as Isaac hopped off the back. They were met with a scowling Derek, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. The sight alone had the girl biting back a laugh, finding the façade he wore when others were around to be the most hilarious acting he could do. She had already seen the side of him he so desperately hid from others, and she could not think of him otherwise. 

“Oh, come on, Derek,” Isaac grinned. “There’s no need for jealousy. (Y/N) and I are just friends.”  

“I’m not jealous. How could I be?” he devilishly smiled as he got into his car. “There’s no real competition.”   

“Cool it, boys,” (Y/N) interjected, settling into the passenger seat. “It’s not like there’s much to choose from. We are terribly lacking in the casting department here in Beacon Hills.”   

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Derek grumbled.  

“It means that I have to pick from a really small pool of options,” she said mischievously, a playful grin on her face. “You’re definitely number one. But you’re a close second, Isaac.”   

“Hear that, Derek?” Isaac laughed, peeking his head to the front. “You better play your cards right or I might have a chance.”  

Instead of responding, Derek slammed on the brakes, making Isaac’s seatbelt lock as his body lurched forward, knocking the air out of his lungs. Quietly, he sat back onto his seat, his eyebrows furrowing and his arms crossing across his chest like a child after a tantrum. But all (Y/N) could stare at was the cocky grin that was plastered on Derek’s face.  

“Alright, enough of this pissing competition,” (Y/N) laughed softly. “We have real business to tend to and I don’t wanna be late.”   

“You heard the lady, Derek. Step on it.”   

“Watch it, Isaac.”   

“Guys,” she called their attention, scolding them with her gaze. “Let’s just go.”   

The rest of the short car ride was quiet, filled with the soft hum of the radio and the air blowing out of the A/C. But there were stolen glances and smiles between the people in the front of the car. Their arms rested on the center console, their fingers itching to interlace as they stretched toward each other, neither really giving in.  

One second, they were leaving Derek’s loft, and the next, they were parked in front of the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. Before they could reach the door, Scott was already unlocking it, his face contorted in confusion as he stared at (Y/N) and Isaac.  

“What’s he doing here?” Scott questioned. 

“I need him.”   

“I don’t trust him,” the boy added as he walked back inside.  

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t trust you either,” Isaac said cockily, his mask quickly slipping on.  

“You know what?” the older man said annoyed. “And Derek doesn’t really care.”  

“What about you, (Y/N)?” Scott asked, his tone softening. “Why are you here?”  

“Just along for the ride. But at the end of the day, I’m a good mediator for whatever tension is roaming here.”  

“That won’t be necessary,” Derek quickly said. “Now where’s the vet? Is he gonna help us or what?”   

“That depends,” the doctor answered, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. “Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?”   

Derek answered, “Kill him,” at the same time Scott and (Y/N) responded, “Save him.”   

Both of the teens stared at the alpha, not shocked at his answer but a tad disappointed. Scott had been clear when he agreed to work together, things would be done his way and that meant doing everything possible to rescue Jackson. And if Derek had any doubts, there were none left once Scott reiterated twice that Jackson would be saved.  

Then, and only then, did Dr. Deaton allow the group back into the treatment room. They all stood behind the exam table, following the vet’s every move. He took hold of a tray with neatly arranged vials with symbols on the lids.  

With childlike curiosity, Isaac reached for the glass containers. Only to have Derek snatch his hand away. “Watch what you touch,” he said, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but agree. She had learned rather quickly that when it came to that secret world it was better to air of the side of caution.  

“So, what are you?” the blonde questioned, keeping his hands to himself but ignoring Derek’s reprimand. “Some kind of witch?”   

“No, I’m a veterinarian,” Deaton responded to him before he shifted the conversation to what they were there for. “Unfortunately, I don’t see anything here that’s going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin.”  

(Y/N) was intrigued by the man. Even if he claimed to be a mere human, she could tell there was something more to him. There was a powerful energy that emanated from him, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was or what it could mean.  

As the man questioned about the Kanima and the others answered, her mind was deadest of figuring out what the energy she was feeling meant. If he was truly just a human, she was afraid she was losing her mind.  

“Essentially, you’re trying to capture two people,” she heard him say as her brain focused back on the situation at hand. The doctor turned for a second and pulled out a medallion. “A puppet… and a puppeteer,” he explained as he placed the disk on the table. “One killed the husband while the other killed the wife. Do we know why?”   

“I don’t think Jackson could do it,” (Y/N) finally spoke. “His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn’t let the same happen to someone else.”   

“How do you know it’s not part of the rules?” Isaac questioned. “The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wide, then the baby dies too.”  

“Does that mean your father was a murderer?” Scott asked him.  

“Wouldn’t surprise me if he was.”  

Instinctively, (Y/N)’s hand flew to Isaac’s forearm and gave it a comforting squeeze. Even if the man was a horrible human being and had made the boy’s life a living hell, she knew how hard it still was for him to talk about the man.  

“Hold on,” Deaton pondered. “The book says they’re bonded, right? What if the fear of water isn’t coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him? What if…?” he continued as he grabbed a vial of something (Y/N) recognized as mountain ash and drew a circle around the silver medallion. “Something that controls the Kanima also affects its master?”  

“Meaning what?”  

“Meaning we can catch them,” she smiled at the blond. “Both of them. If this theory is right, that means we could get Jackson and whoever is controlling him in the same place.”  

“In theory, it should work,” the doctor added. “But you should plan for all possibilities. Scott, you can come over tomorrow and pick up what supply I have of mountain ash. Hopefully, this plan works.”  

“I hope so too,” the boy added. “So, we’ll meet up tomorrow before the rave to make sure we’re all on the same page. Right, Derek?”   

“Right,” he grumbled. “We’ll see you tomorrow night then.”   

Once everyone had agreed to the plan, Deaton and Scott walked the trio to the door, wishing them a good night and safe travels home. But keeping up their macho bravado and feeding their air of dominance, Isaac and Derek made a beeline for the car rather than return the sentiment. It was childish and petty, but it forced a smile out of (Y/N).  

“I apologize for those two. It seems they have forgotten their manners,” (Y/N) said. “But thank you, Dr. Deaton, for all your help. And thank you, Scott, for everything you’re doing to make sure Jackson comes out of this alive. He may be a shitty guy, but he doesn’t deserve to die.” 

“Thanks, (Y/N),” Scott smiled, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “And although I cannot say I understand why you’re even in the same presence as Derek Hale, I’m glad you’re there to keep him in line.”  

“Eh, he’s not that tough,” she chuckled. “Anyways, I’ll see you tomorrow. And thank you again, Deaton.”  

“Please, call me Alan.” 

“Then, thank you, Alan.”  

“Get home safe, (Y/N),” Scott called out as she walked to the car.  

“You too, Scott,” she smiled. “We’ll get them tomorrow. Even if it takes everything out of us.”  

As soon as the girl had closed the door of the black Camaro, the car sped out of the parking lot. After such an influx of information and the slightest sliver of hope, silence befell them. The ride was silent, once again filled only with the soft sound of the radio and the blast from the A/C.  

There wasn’t anything more to be said. They either trapped both the kanima and his master, or they would die trying. And it was that sense of dread that kept them mute until they reached the loft where Isaac excused himself to grab a change of clothes.  

(Y/N) walked to Derek’s side, leaning against the car right beside him, enjoying the smoothness of his leather jacket against her. It took every ounce of self-control for them to not deepen the touch, to reach out to one another in seek of comfort.  

“What do you think will happen tomorrow?” (Y/N) asked, her voice barely above a whisper.  

“Honestly, I have no idea,” he sighed. “If it were up to me…” 

“If it were up to you Jackson would be dead,” she finished sternly. “An innocent life would be taken.” 

“Jackson is not innocent.”  

“Someone is literally calling the shots for him, Derek. He doesn’t even remember what he’s done,” she retorted. “He shouldn’t be faulted for something he is not doing on his own.”  

“I know,” he exasperated. “But he’s still done so many horrible things, even if he doesn’t know it. And he’ll continue to do them if he and whoever is controlling him isn’t stopped.” 

“Just please, Derek.” (Y/N) turned to face him, her eyes desperately searching into the darkness of his. Her hands rested on his crossed arms, the only way she found she could convey the level of her worry. "Promise me you won’t kill him. Do whatever it takes to stop him but kill him.”  

Derek could only sigh at her plea. He could see the desperation behind her eyes, the way they were looking for any sign of deception in his. But he knew he could not lie, at least not to her. “All I can promise is that he’ll remain alive as long as he stays away from you,” he said. “If he does anything to harm you, he is as good as dead.”  

“Derek…” 

“I’m serious, (Y/N). I’d be so much as digs a single claw into you, I will make sure I’m the one to rip his throat out.” 

“Even if we know his venom won’t do anything to me?” (Y/N) blurted. Derek’s eyes grew wide, thinking she would never find out about his transgression. But she had told him that Scott had revealed everything to her, that was just part of the story. “Yes, Scott told me you tested me and Lydia. And at some point, I was everyone’s favorite suspect. What would you do if it had been me? Would you not hesitate to kill me as well?”  

“I never doubted you,” he told her, softly cradling the side of her face. “It was never my intention to test you. You just so happened to shade that piece of candy with Lydia. I knew it could have never been you.” 

“How could you be so sure? You didn't know me, Derek. You still barely know me,” her voice croaked. “So, I'm asking you. If I had been the kanima, would you be advocating this hard to kill me?”  

“Absolutely not.”  

“Then, you shouldn't want to kill Jackson either.”  

“It's not even comparable to how I care for you,” he smiled. “But I promise you, and only you, that I will not kill him.”  

“That's all I can ask for,” she said, returning the warm smile. “And I'm glad to hear you wouldn't have killed me. I think death wishes would really tamper with our chances.”  

“I'm glad it wasn't you then,” he chuckled. “Although, I think we could have made it work. We just would have to make sure your scales were always hydrated.”  

“A kanima and a werewolf,” she laughed. “What a match it would have been.”  

As they laughed in unison, their gazes met under the light of the moon. His green eyes shone brightly as they studied every inch of her face, every so often falling to her lips. He noted the pinkness of the skin and the plumpness. He saw how they trembled slightly whenever his eyes landed on them. He spotted how they parted to allow a deep breath to slip through. 

Oh, how he wanted to taste them. To crash his lips onto hers and savor every second of connection. All it would take was a single move. In less than a second, he could answer every question he had about her mouth.  

So, he slowly leaned in.  

And she did too.  

They were millimeters away from breaking their resolve and throwing caution to the wind. A gust of air and their nine-month pact would be broken. At least, they would have given in to the feeling they most craved for.  

“Welp, ready to go!” Isaac's voice startled them apart. His head was focused on his bag, making sure he had everything he needed, and had no idea he had ruined a moment for the pair. “You think we could stop for some food on the way back? I'm starving again.”  

The duo could only stare at the tall blond, their faces growing red in embarrassment. “What?” Isaac muttered. “Is it too late for food?”  

"It's fine, Isaac,” (Y/N) chuckled at his obliviousness. “We'll get something on the way back. Go start the bike. Let it warm up.” 

“Alright,” he said, easily catching the keys she threw him. “I'll let you two lovebirds say goodbye.” 

Once he was out of sight, the pair laughed quietly. They had once again been interrupted by one of Derek's teenage strays. And once more they had been that close to giving in to their urges.  

“It seems like the universe wants us to wait,” she grinned. “For the record, I really want to kiss you.” 

“For the record,” he whispered into her ear. “I really want to kiss you too.”  

“I mean, there’s nothing really stopping us right now,” she said, biting her lower lip. “We could just... do it.”  

“Not with Isaac right there,” he reminded her. “He might not hear us well, but he can definitely see us. And, not gonna lie, I don’t really wanna kiss you with an audience.”  

“Neither do I,” she chuckled. “A year, huh?”  

“Nine months,” he smiled. “But who’s counting?”  

Next ->

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#andreafmn #im not afraid #derek hale #derek hale imagine #derek hale x reader #derek hale x y/n #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #slow burn #angst #scott mccall #isaac lahey #stiles stilinski #chris argent #allison argent #eventual smut #eventual romance #fanfiction #fan fiction #writing #vernon boyd #erica reyes #argent reader #jackson whittemore #lydia martine #teen wolf rewrite

[alisblackgf]

I have a The Quarry request ! :)

Could you write a Dylan x reader (maybe gender neutral so everyone can enjoy it ? :)), in which Dylan makes a playlist for the reader, please ? Thank youuuu <3

AWW THIS IS SO SWEET, OFC I CAN!

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pairing: dylan lenivy x gn!reader (childhood best friends to lovers)

trigger warnings: none <3 pure fluff (yes AGAIN)

summary: during the counselors’ free time, two inseparable best friends use it to hang out with each other; and one uses their musical knowledge to confess.

taglist: @evaavaughn @sweet-daisies @tywrites @walkingus @yawagucci @rainbows-dreams @chibizzz @asiabrooks132 @wxrifxstxriia (your tags weren’t working, im sorry!) 

(to apply to the taglist, click here!)

im feeling a bit evil today...i might write an angst fic after this one! ALSO IM SORRY FOR MAKING SO MANY CONFESSION FICS MY GOODNESS I SWEAR I’LL USE A NEW IDEA SOONER OR LATER

also let’s pretend the counselors didn’t have to turn their phones in, okay? wonderful!

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you sat at a picnic table located outside, zoned out. you were waiting for your childhood best friend to arrive, as you had arranged where you’d meet for your free time. while waiting, you thought hard about your feelings towards him. how things would be if you dated, and if you should confess. you shook away the thoughts because you had been friends ever since your moms popped you out, and you didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

you heard footsteps behind you, but you didn’t pay attention to them until a familiar voice followed along.

“hey, missed me?” dylan started.

“finally, i was starting to think you weren’t gonna show.” you laughed as you got up and led him to the table. “ladies first!” you winked at him. he rolled his eyes but sat down and you sat next to him.

“sorry for taking forever, my music needed me.”

“more than i do?” you teased.

“(y/n), light of my life, nothing on planet earth could ever need me more than you do.” he teased back. you rolled your eyes and laughed. “and vice versa.” he whispered to himself. of course you heard him, and you were shocked that he sounded so serious. you didn’t tell him you heard what he said, because you didn’t want to embarrass him.

“moving on,” you shook your head, smiling. “what music were you listening to?”

he looked a bit embarrassed and hesitant.

“i’m not gonna make fun of your music taste, if that’s what you were thinking.” you reassured him. he looked at you and smiled.

the music wasn’t for him, it was for you. dylan had been spending weeks and weeks picking songs, deciphering the meaning of them, and seeing if the rhythm was spectacular before even thinking about putting them in your playlist. of course the songs were corny, but they had to be good too. after all, he was planning to confess to you with them. 

usually he was great with his words, and would’ve gone for it. if it weren’t for you. you guys have been best friends for so long, and he didn’t want to ruin that. you’ve been with him through thick and thin, and he didn’t want you to leave. even if the cost was having to be seen as “just a friend” to you. but right now, he was ready. he had to get this off his chest. plus, he could just give you the link to the playlist and run off, if you texted him that you didn’t feel the same, or didn’t text at all, he’d back off. with this in mind, he felt confident enough to let you know how he felt.

“hellooooo? is dylan in there?” you knocked gently on his arm as if he were a door.

“huh? what?”

he quickly snapped out of it and sent the link to you.

“you have the link. now i have to go, my dear (y/n), but do not worry. i’ll be back for you.” he winked at you and sped-walked away. he almost ran, he wanted to be as far as possible from you when you read the playlist description.

you got your phone out and checked the notification. weirdo <3 sent a link

you sighed and turned off your phone for a bit while you pondered. you still had about 30 minutes left of your break, and dylan never leaves early. at least not with you. you feared that he was drifting away from you and it made you queasy. you pushed through your cruel thoughts and opened the link.

your eyes had absolutely widened at the description.

dear (y/n), i couldn’t find a better way to confess to you, so i made you a playlist. what? what could be better than cheesy love songs and your favorite song being the very first song you hear? well, me, of course, but i’m not an option! all jokes aside, i really really like you.

and that was it. you scrolled through the songs and yes, they were indeed cheesy. you laughed at your phone and looked up. you had no idea where dylan was, but you did have your phone. you began to text him.

dylan, come back. i feel the same way.

is all you could manage. anything else and you would’ve spontaneously combusted. you tapped your fingers on the picnic table and waited. dylan arrived soon after and sat down immediately.

“you’re not playing with me are you? because if you are that’s actually very low.” he muttered while making direct eye contact with you.

“i’m not playing with you, swear!”

“prove it.”

and you did just that. you kissed him, and when you pulled away, his eyes were wide.

“is that enough proof for you?” you beamed, ruffling his hair.

“hmmm....nope. i still need to be convinced.” he teased, eyes going back to normal and a smirk forming.

“oh, whatever. come here, then!”

he leaned over so his face was close to yours, and you smothered him in kisses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

i love him sm

#the quarry x reader #the quarry #dylan the quarry #dylan x reader #dylan lenivy x reader #dylan lenivy #im going to tag all the counselors just because #kaitlyn ka #ryan erzahler #abigail blyg #nick furcillo #jacob custos #emma mountebank #laura kearney #max brinly