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#the up-standing sitter
slythereen · 6 months
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scuderia ferrari when charles starts on pole: looking forward to a c2 fight‼️🤺 what happens on track stays on track‼️🤪
meanwhile red bull racing: hehe giggly lestappen content 🥰
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dweamcito · 9 months
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oh definitely! i personally find fence sitters weird in general and especially in friendships, only when the party at fault has done something really awful though. i think for weird and petty disputes, being civil regardless of your own opinions is much better. and i think people on the internet should shut up more as their opinions are so fucking stupid sometimes and totally unnecessary. idt people shouldn't be cancelled by association or anything like that, i just dont agree on a moral, general level with fence sitters for terrible deeply hurtful events. i personally see it as abandonment no matter what
ooooh okay, i see your point
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hanasnx · 2 months
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MINORS DNI 18+
! ── BABY DADDY!JASON TODD who can't come around more than once or twice a year. His way of life isn't sustainable for a home, and it certainly isn't safe for a daughter. You and him decided it was best to part ways before that positive pregnancy test, and since he discovered a kid he helped make it didn't change his level of involvement. He's got a lot of eyes on him, and he can't draw attention to anything important to him.
! ── Your daughter adores him. She squeals with delight every time he visits, running full barrel towards him so he can scoop her up. Unbeknownst to her your concern with how he found you again, and how he broke in to the apartment. Apparently running and hiding is not enough when you face the Red Hood. You reluctantly greet him with a half-assed kiss on the cheek, wrapping your arm around his neck to incline him towards you. Your daughter on his hip takes full advantage of hugging you both at the same time, and pressed against your former lover makes you tight-lipped.
! ── He's dangerous for a number of reasons that span beyond what any angry enemy of his would do if they found out where he's been going. You're most afraid of what he's able to make you do the longer you're with him. Only able to hold onto your anger for so long until he melts that cold exterior and somehow convinces you to let him warm your bed again.
! ── He's got it down to a science. As soon as you give him that scathing look, he tells your daughter to run along because "Mommy and Daddy have to talk." while she thoughtfully strokes his chin with her little hand, only to nod with an audible sigh, shaking out her wild hair she won't let you brush. With a little push to her back, she scampers off to her room and he stands to his full height. "I just wanted to see her." he tells you, with that pleading tone you've fallen for countlessly because he knows you're going to say: "It's not safe." for the thousandth time.
! ── He'll tower over you, incline towards you while you scold him under your breath. A hushed argument ensues that your daughter tries to listen in on, and can only hear bits and pieces about how she's not owned, and her dad should get to see her. Stuff she doesn't understand, especially because she can't understand his lack of presence being such a complicated thing when she has no sense of object permanence. If a dad refuses to be there more, it's a problem. You want to cut Jason out completely. That's not fair, as he'll tell you, to the daughter you get to keep.
! ── It's in the way he stands next to you. He's so much taller than you, broader, and muscled. He bulks up more and more every time you see him. He doesn't use his size to intimidate you, rather takes advantage of something else. Big hands stuffed in his back pockets make his leather jacket sit on his wide shoulders exquisitely. His hair is windblown from his motorbike and just the smell of him has a dangerous Pavlov effect on you. Like your eyes want to flutter as they roll into the back of your head and lightning shoots straight down to your core, stinging at the memory of what it's like to be filled by him. The longer you're with him, the thinner your resolve becomes. It evaporates in front of you as he sweeps a hand through his hair, and his posture slacks. "C'mon." he drags out the word playfully, advancing on you. Your hand interrupts him, bracing on his firm chest to keep him from coming closer. "Can't we talk about something else? You're getting me all worked up. Missed you."
You roll your jaw, that resolve slipping. Addicted to him, you're reticent as his tongue darts out to wet his lips while he's eyeing yours. "Jay..." you murmur, and he can hear the defeat in your voice.
! ── "Lucky we got a sitter, huh?" Jason's smug voice cuts through the wet sounds of sex that fills the room. "Now I get some time with my other little girl." That sick delight causes you to reach back, weakly banging your fist against his thigh. He snickers, wolfish and husky resounding from the back of his throat. "Mommy's been missing me, huh? Can feel her clenching down on me like a fuckin' vice."
His thick cock hurts stretching you out, but you needed that pain. There's something about Jason that keeps you saying yes, and it pushed through your requirement of foreplay, unbuckling that belt in haste, comfort be damned you wanted that dick. You're on all fours and he's giving it to you from the back, just how you like it, fucking you like a dog while his hand tangles all up in your hair. He yanks you back by it, and you can't even think of what to say other than mindless pleasured babbles.
"You let me do this every time I come over. Seems like you fuck with me or something." It's true, regardless of the cruel insults you've thrown at him to get him to stay away from you, it's all because you can't say no to him. It's the reason you got pregnant, it's the reason you can't run away far enough, and it's the reason you fuck him every time he comes to visit the kid he helped make.
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hedgehog-moss · 6 months
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Last Sunday in October, a story in five parts :)
i. The guy who owns the pasture next to mine took his cows back to their winter lodgings the other day, and told me I could let my llamas eat what was left of the grass if I wanted. That was sweet of him but his pasture's fence is cow-proof, not llama-proof, so I had to wait for a sunny day, so I could sit with a book nearby and keep an eye on the llamas Pampe. Today was the day!
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Pampy looked happy about this unexpected change of scenery and started grazing peacefully, meanwhile Pampe started with exploring the whole pasture, including the patch of woods at the back, hoping to find a flaw in the fence.
(Note Poldine below, desperately running after her mum so she won't be left behind if Pampe does find an opportunity to escape)
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ii. I found some impressive coulemelles in this new pasture (I don't know any mushroom names in English sorry.) I cut one to take to the pharmacy and ask if they're the good kind (here with my hand for scale)
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They're also known as nez de chat, cat's nose mushrooms, in some regions...
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I found some girolles nearby last year, but not this time. The llamas seemed to be on their best behaviour so I thought after lunch I'd go look for mushrooms farther away in the woods, down by the torrent, instead of watching them all day.
Poldine, watch your mother.
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I asked Merricat if she was volunteering her services as a llama-sitter (it looked like it)
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—but she suspected I was going home where the fire is, so she followed me. (I don't make a fire on sunny afternoons, though... she had to nap in my cardigan instead. Not as good, but a tolerated second-best option.)
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iii. I took Pan with me after lunch so he wouldn't encourage Pampe in mischief, and he was uncharacteristically audacious in his frolicking! He doesn't like water and he's usually quite prudent when we're near the torrent, even scolding me if I climb on mossy rocks, but today he was jumping from one slippery rock to the other very boldly.
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As I was taking this nice waterfall photo, I heard a very dramatic high-pitched squeal followed by a dramatic splashing sound, and when I turned around Pandolf was dragging himself out of the torrent, looking, as we say in french, honteux et confus.
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I'm sorry that his bout of audacious frolicking had to end this way :( Back to frolicking gingerly for at least a couple of years... (His fur is magical though, he looks like a drowned rat at first but then shakes himself twice and is immediately back to a normal volume of floof. So his dignity doesn't suffer for long, at least.)
iv. I found no mushrooms but something even better!
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I love chestnuts so much, I've been hoping to find chestnut trees for years but was starting to think they just don't grow at this altitude... But I suck at identifying trees so it's very possible I walked past them dozens of times and never recognised them when it wasn't chestnut season.
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You really have to earn every chestnut, even with the crushing-under-your-boot method to squeeze them out you still have to extricate them from their burr going ow ow ow the whole time. The worst thing is when you kill your fingers opening a reticent burr and it resentfully spits out a bunch of sad deflated worthless chestnuts.
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Still, I ended up going home with chestnuts in every single one of my pockets. When we got out of the woods and back on the road Pandolf and I ran into a woman we don't know (so, not a close neighbour) and we started talking about foraging and I wondered if I should tell her about the nearby chestnut spot. But those things are private. No one told me about the chestnut spot even after I made increasingly heavy casual hints about how much I love chestnuts. After a while though I started suspecting this lady knew about the spot and was on her way there. Or on her way back, through a different path. She looked shifty. So did I. It's very possible that we were both standing there in the middle of the road with our coat pockets crammed with chestnuts, making pointedly non-chestnut-related small talk.
v. I went home and started making chestnut-pumpkin soup while dodging constant coordinated chicken attacks. At first they act like they're napping on a conveniently-nearby chair, or looking the other way, and as soon as you stop distrusting their intentions, they pounce, often from two different directions.
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Side plot: Pandolf spent this whole time desperately trying to catch a cat, to restore his self-confidence after falling in the torrent.
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Morille went from strolling casually on top of the fence to lounging casually in the hazel tree above my head, making it look like she hadn't even noticed she was being chased, which was very frustrating for Pandolf. Nothing wounds a dog like going unnoticed.
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I told Morille it would make him happy if she let him catch her, and she was like eh, fine, and elegantly jumped from the hazel tree to the top of the stone wall.
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Pandolf immediately followed, poked her a bit brutally with his big nose, and then he didn't know what else to do with her once he caught her so he just wagged his tail like "Well played, cat!! It was nice chasing you" and left.
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v. bis (or ter) I want to reassure Pirlouit fans (who might have noticed that he wasn't allowed to graze in the neighbour's pasture with the llamas) that he knows he's entitled to fair compensation as a donkey, and he stood behind the fence the whole time I was preparing my soup, patiently waiting for his pumpkin benefits. Which he did get.
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I found some leftover chestnuts in my trouser pocket tonight, that I'd forgotten about, so I'm having stove-roasted chestnuts for dessert after the chestnut soup! Chestnuts were 90% of my dinner and were also the reason Pandolf got dinner. I ran out of dog kibble and I was thinking of giving him a hard-boiled egg and some rice tonight, and go buy kibble tomorrow, but on our way back this afternoon we stopped by our closest neighbour's house and I humbly offered a handful of chestnuts in exchange for one serving of kibble. The neighbour's dog didn't look enchanted with our offer but his human agreed. I usually trade with my chicken's eggs but this woman has hens so I'm glad chestnuts are also accepted as valid currency.
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st4rfckerz · 6 months
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house sitter | anakin skywalker x reader
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word count: 2.5k
warnings: MDNI 18+, kinda non con ???, somnophilia, groping, unprotected sex, creampie, infedelity, mild degradation, fingering, oral (f receiving), age gap (anakins in his 30s, reader is an adult), anakin's a pervert.
summary: you watch over the skywalker's home while they're out on a date.
a/n: this might be all over the place so i apologize BUT this is actually the idea i was talking about when i posted "i just woke up with the horniest fic idea."
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house sitting was without a doubt the easiest job you'd ever had. all you had to do was lounge around in expensive homes and watch out for intrusions, which, for the record, hardly ever happen.
the famous skywalker family had employed you to watch over their house while they went on dates, visited other planets, etc. you had gotten to know the couple pretty well, especially anakin since he was always friendly with you and often times would spend time speaking to you, although it was never anything more than just light conversation for him.
you noticed that anakin had spent more time talking to you lately and was starting to become a little bit more attentive towards you, he had always been kind and friendly but you felt his friendliness had become more... intentional, but maybe you were just imagining things.
padmé called you to inform you that she and anakin were going out to dinner and would be gone for the majority of the evening.
you've just pulled up to the skywalkers' driveway, parked your car, and started approaching the stone walkway. after a few knocks, anakin finally opens the door with a small grin plastered across his face. he couldn't help but feel a certain thrill at the thought of having you around again.
"hey, glad you could make it." anakin greeted you at the door, his dark blue eyes took you in for a moment before he steps to the side to let you in. padmé approaches you while still putting in her earrings.
"thank you so much for watching the house while we're gone," she beams.  padmé's enthusiastic behavior always made you smile. 
"of course, padmé. your house is in good hands." you replied with a gentle smile. anakin caught your gaze and you couldn't help but notice the way he was looking at you. his eyes had an almost dreamy but slightly lustful gleam about them. you choose to ignore it and bring your attention back to padmé.
"we'll be back at around midnight." as anakin and padmé bid their farewells and depart for their much-anticipated date night, you find yourself standing alone in the grandeur of their house. the silence envelopes you, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning.
you take a moment to admire the opulence surrounding you, marveling at the elegant decor and lavish furnishings. the house was a reflection of anakin and padmé's status and influence, a testament to their power. as you explore the various rooms, you can't help but imagine the passionate moments that must have unfolded within these walls.
the master bedroom beckons to you with its inviting ambiance - a room that surely holds countless memories for anakin and padmé. you imagine them tangled in each other's arms, their bodies entwined, lost in a world of whispered promises and shared desires. a wicked thought creeps into your mind - a fantasy of being the one who arouses such passion in anakin.
shaking off the enticing daydream, you divert your attention to the rest of the house.
you stumble upon anakin's personal study. your interest is sparked because, although it was normally locked, it was slightly open. it was a room filled with ancient jedi texts and mechanical tools. it's here that his true nature is laid bare. the forceful fervor with which he delves into his studies mirrors the intensity with which he pursues everything else in his life. you can't help but be drawn to his passion, intrigued by the raw power that lies within him.
you come across a bookshelf filled with an assortment of literary gems. pulling out a weathered book, you settle into a plush armchair, relishing the tranquility. lost in your thoughts, you find yourself sinking into anakin's chair, surrounded by his aura.
you open the book slowly, the faint smell of aged paper wafting up to greet you. each word holds the potential to shape the very fabric of your understanding of the force.
as you begin to read, the words dance across the page, captivating your attention. the author's insights into the force captivate your imagination, revealing ancient practices and techniques that have long been forgotten. you find yourself engrossed in the descriptions of lightsaber combat, the delicate balance necessary to harness the power of the force, and the connection between the physical and spiritual realms.
lost in the world of the book, you almost forget the reason for your presence in this house. the vivid descriptions transport you to a realm where you are the jedi, wielding a lightsaber with grace and precision, matching anakin's own skills in the heat of battle. you imagine his presence beside you, his body pressed against yours, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses. your mind is left with the image, a luring invitation to give in to the craving.
a sense of guilt washes over you like a bitter tide. anakin is still married to padmé, having these thoughts feels wrong. thoughts of anakin, his intense gaze, and his tempting touch linger. anakin and padmé's love is palpable, their connection evident in every glance and tender gesture. you brush off your thoughts and pick up the book to divert your attention once more.
you make your way down to the living room, with the book in your hand, and you find a cozy spot on the plush couch. the room is dimly lit, casting a soft glow on the surroundings. settling into the cushions, you open the book, eager to immerse yourself in its pages.
as you continue to read the exciting stories within the book, a wave of drowsiness washes over you. the cozy atmosphere of the living room lulls you into a tranquil state.
your eyelids grow heavy, and you find yourself sinking deeper into the plush cushions of the couch. the words on the pages begin to blur, the lines fading into a hazy backdrop and before you know it, sleep claims you completely.
about an hour or so later, anakin arrives home unexpectedly. stepping through the door, an unexpected sight greets his eyes. there you are, sound asleep on the couch, his gaze drifts down to the book resting against your stomach.
"nosy girl." anakin mutters. his mouth curves into a sly smirk as a sinister thought starts to take shape. he sets the forgotten item aside, his attention now fixated on the curves of your body, the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. slowly, he approaches, his footsteps barely audible against the soft carpet.
with a gentle touch, he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingertips lingering on your skin for a brief moment. he contemplates waking you, but the feeling of his dick twitching from inside his pants leads him in a different direction.
you looked so peaceful, so perfect. anakin finds himself yearning for the sound of your voice, the touch of your skin against his, the taste of your lips.
anakin's hand reaches out tentatively. his fingers brush against your cheek, the touch soft and delicate. with each stroke of his fingertips, anakin's touch becomes bolder, his hand gradually sliding downward. his fingers trail lower, caressing the delicate curve of your collarbone before continuing their descent.
he runs his fingers over the top of your breasts, then reaches down to cup one, giving it a light squeeze. he groans slightly, feeling his growing erection press harder against the zipper of his pants.
anakin's hands began to slide up under your shirt, rubbing small circles over your hardening nipples. his fingers moved slowly along the soft skin of your stomach, grazing your hip bones before coming to rest at the waistband of your pants. he watched intently as your body responded to his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips. with a confident yet tender touch, anakin begins to slowly slide your pants down your legs. his eyes devoured the sight of your panties.
a grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he noticed the adorable pattern of small flowers adorning the white fabric, adding an innocent touch to the moment.
"oh poor baby." he coos. his fingers skimmed lightly over the fabric that covered your core. feeling the dampness seeping through the fabric, anakin's eyes sparked with desire. unable to resist, he carefully slipped his hand beneath you, skillfully removing the delicate fabric and stashing them in his pocket without disturbing your peaceful slumber.
anakin marveled at the sight before him, the delicate folds of your wetness glistening in the dim light of the room. he couldn't help but be captivated by your beauty. the sight of you laid bare, vulnerable and inviting, sent a surge of anticipation through his veins.
with a gentle touch, he traced his fingers along your inner thighs, relishing in the softness of your skin. his gaze locked onto your core, his desire burning hotter with each passing second. he wanted nothing more than to taste you, to bring you pleasure in the most intimate way possible.
anakin lowered himself onto his knees, ensuring every movement he made was as silent and gentle as possible. he positioned himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving your pussy.
as he prepared himself to taste you, anakin carefully parted your folds. with a controlled release of his breath, he lowers his mouth onto your cunt, his tongue tracing a path along your folds. anakin moans lowly as he inserts a single finger inside of you, feeling how tight and warm you were.
anakin's movements were gentle yet purposeful, each lick and slow curl of his finger intended to bring you closer to the edge of pleasure. he was careful to maintain a rhythm that wouldn't wake you up.
as his tongue danced across your heated pussy, he couldn't help but be entranced by the way your body responded to his ministrations. the twitches and shudders, the soft moans that slipped past your lips—each one only fueled his own desire to give you more.
anakin pulls himself away from your drooling cunt once he feels that you're getting close.
"not yet baby, i wanna feel you cum on my cock." he whispers while pulling off his belt and shoving his boxers and pants all the way down to his ankles. his cock stands proudly, a small bead of precum dribbling down his shaft. anakin strokes himself a few times before carefully positioning himself between your legs and entering your pussy completely.
a moan escapes his lips as he firmly thrusts into you. he moved cautiously at first, savoring the exquisite tightness of your embrace as he began a slow rhythm, each thrust drawing him further into a frenzy of arousal.
anakin reveled in the feel of your cunt gripping him tightly, the way your walls massaged his length with each thrust. he was lost in the intoxicating sensation, focusing solely on the raw pleasure that consumed him.
you gasp loudly in shock, finally emerging from your sleep, and anakin hastily turns to face you.
"anak-" anakin's large hand abruptly covered your mouth, silencing your words before they could form completely. his intense gaze bore into your eyes, his face dangerously close to yours.
"finally awake now huh?" he teases, his voice laced with a hint of delighted amusement. he allowed himself a moment to revel in the fear that flared in your eyes, the allure of pushing boundaries and igniting forbidden desires too tempting to resist.
as he continued thrusting into your abused cunt, his motions grew more purposeful and commanding.
anakin's voice, dripping with authority, took on a more degrading tone. "my little bookworm couldn't help herself, hm? just had to go snooping around." he nods in the direction of his office.
"been thinking about this pussy ever since i hired you," he pants in between thrusts. "i've seen the way you look at me. eye fucking me every chance you get, right in front of my wife too? dirty, dirty girl." anakin chuckles, shaking his head.
as your bodies entwined, he deliberately increased the intensity of each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin bouncing off the walls.
anakin felt a mixture of ecstasy and need flood his senses as your core compressed around his length, causing his breath to get caught in his throat. the intensity of the moment fueled his own arousal, pushing him closer to the edge of his own climax.
"cum for me baby, i know you're close." his words sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, fanning the flames of your arousal. anakin's hands gripped your body with an undeniable possessiveness, his body moving with an inescapable rhythm that drove you closer to the edge of release.
anakin's hand remained firmly covering your mouth, your moans muffled as you finally tip over the edge. he continued to thrust into you, his pace steady as he chased his own orgasm. anakin's body convulsed, his cock twitching deep within your pussy. you could feel his hot cum painting your insides. anakin's movements finally come to a stop before he pulls out of your sore cunt.
he swiftly pulled up his pants and underwear, his movements were tinged with a cold detachment. without a word, he threw your pants in your direction, his actions lacking the tenderness he had displayed moments before. the forceful gesture caught her off guard, leaving her momentarily stunned as she caught the garment.
"next time, we'll put that pretty mouth to good use." his hand gently cupped your cheek, giving it a few taps. his touch a mixture of possessiveness and affection.
with a last lingering look, he slowly made his way towards the door, leaving you behind, savoring the remnants of your passionate encounter. the room carried the heady scent of your intimacy, an echo of the fervent connection you and anakin had shared.
as you put your pants on, you see the book on the floor that you carried down from anakin's office. you close it after picking it up and place it on the coffee table in front of you. the weight of guilt bore down on you, tainting the air in the room with a mix of remorse and self-doubt. your head buried in your hands, you grappled with the conflicting feelings that threatened to overwhelm you.
the memory of your intimate connection replayed in your mind, it almost made you feel sick. a pang of empathy pierced through you. padmé flashed in your mind, her image haunting and filled you with concern.
you continued to house sit, carrying the weight of your guilt alongside your duties. in the midst of the forbidden desires that you and anakin shared, you sought solace in fulfilling your responsibilities, hoping that in time, the guilt would fade, and clarity would guide you towards a resolution.
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murdrdocs · 6 months
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HAUNTING YOUR BED. mike schmidt
description. you, mike, and abby bake a chocolate cake and mike gets to taste it from your lips
→ pt 2 to nothing real
includes. GN! reader (i think), simp mike, abby !!!!, fluff galore, more pining, more domesticity, kissing, one boner mention
wc: 2.2k+
a/n: finally wrote a pt 2 to something who would've thought. title from haunt//bed
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When Mike opens the door, he’s too tired to see straight. 
His shift ended earlier than he originally anticipated and since he’d clocked out, his body was begging for a shower and sleep. Maybe even just sleep, depending on how comforting his bed looked. If he could tolerate it, maybe even a few bites of a frozen meal. 
This is his original plan. 
But somehow due to the sleep induced haze, Mike had forgotten that you were babysitting Abby tonight. Not the sitter that had taken your place for a couple of nights, completely incomparable to you to the point where Mike didn’t even waste his time. Abby, though, spent a solid ten minutes each night complaining about the temporary sitter and another five minutes longing for you. 
(Mike felt the same but he would never let Abby know lest he wanted you to find out within 2 business days) 
So truthfully, whenever Mike opens the door, he’s too tired to see straight, and then as soon as he steps into his home, his vision clears up just enough to see you in the kitchen and his body introduces a burst of energy spurred on by your light squeal and suddenly he can tolerate an hour spent with you and Abby. 
“Shit!” your swear shocks Abby as much as it does Mike, the word foreign to his ears from your mouth but it sounds completely natural when you say it. It’s small, a tiny detail, but it reminds Mike that he doesn’t know you. At least, not the you that exists out of the four walls of the Schmidt household. 
He doesn’t know what you wear when you’re not babysitting, or what your nonprofessional personality is like. He’s sure you’re more or less the same, but for some reason, Mike wants to consider the opposite. 
Despite his rampant overthinking, Abby points at the jar sitting on the end table towards the entrance of the home. 
“Swear jar!” she alerts you. Or maybe it’s more of a command. Either way, you shamefully step away from the counter, wipe your hands on the apron you wear, and start to walk out of the kitchen. 
Mike guesses you’re heading for your purse, which he assumes is most likely sitting on the bench in front of the window where it usually is. Your plans are halted when you’re made aware of Mike’s presence, and when you say “oh”, Mike feels like he’s living his days over again. 
Just a few weeks ago, a similar circumstance, a similar feeling. 
Mike touches his hair at the memory, hoping it’s long enough to warrant another cut from you, but it’s the perfect length and he drops his hand. 
“Hey,” he greets you first, trying to remain calm and behave how he usually does. But suddenly he doesn’t know how to. Does he usually say ‘hey’? Or has he been saying ‘hi’ this entire time and didn’t realize it? Maybe even ‘hello’? 
You seem to care less about that than Mike does, greeting him back casually and then continuing your journey to your purse. Mike watches as you dig around in it for a second, pull a dollar out, and then slide it through the created slip in the top of the mason jar. 
Then, you reenter the kitchen and Mike suddenly realizes that time has been moving around him and he’s been stuck between it all, too enamored by you engaging in minute movements to do so himself. 
He throws his keys in the bowl and slips his shoes off. 
“What’s uh …” He steps into the kitchen, attempting to get a glimpse at what Abby is doing. She’s staring down at the counter, standing on a small step stool that makes her a lot taller than the counter instead of being a few inches off. “What’s going on in here?” 
Abby turns around, and Mike gets a glimpse of a big plastic bowl in front of her, along with the carton of eggs, the jug of vegetable oil, and a cake mix box. 
If he needs even more clarification, Abby happily declares: “We’re making a cake!” 
Initially, Mike’s upset. His logical (grumpy, in Abby’s words) side comes out and he’s thinking about how at least two eggs that could’ve been used for breakfast has gone down the drain and cake provides no nutritional value so not only is Abby going to be hungry, she’s also going to be bouncing off the walls from the sugar intake. 
His thoughts show on his face, just like they always do, and then Mike is looking over at you from where you’re grabbing the whisk out of the drawer and your head lifts. “I dropped the shells into the bowl,” you add, initially oblivious to Mike’s inner turmoil. Your mishap explains your out of character swearing, and Mike would comment on it but instead he’s trying to make his face neutral. 
But you see it, the exhaustion and slight frustration and worry. 
You send him a smile that’s nothing more than one side of your lips pulling into your cheek, pronouncing the apple of it that presents a faux complimentary color to your skin tone. You look … upset? Are you upset? 
Mike can’t tell and this makes him feel worse. 
He decides that instead of pouting and grumbling about it, he unzips his jacket, throws it onto the kitchen table, rolls the sleeves of his thermal up, and then steps to join you two. 
“Let me help.” 
Mike ends up wearing a pink apron that he knows for sure does not belong to the Schmidt household. At least, it didn’t whenever he left for work. 
Mike attempts to hide his surprise whenever Abby excitedly tells him that you brought the apron for him. His eyebrows lift, he looks over at you, and you’re suddenly really focused on the written instructions on the back of the cake box even though they really are incredibly simple. 
“Really? She did?” 
Abby hums and Mike hopes you’ll look over at him, but you don’t, instead gnawing on your bottom lip and squinting as you concentrate even harder. 
“Mm. It’s cute. I like it.” And that’s when you lift your eyes, sending them over to Mike to give him a quick once over. 
“It suits you,” you compliment, just before putting the box down and grabbing the cake pan. 
Some time has passed. The cake has been baked, decorated (white frosting with pink, green, and yellow swirls from Abby), and eaten with slightly freezer burnt ice cream. Abby has pouted when Mike declared one giant slice was enough for her. 
The shower has turned on and off, Abby has run into the living room to give you a hug and say goodnight, and now comes the part that Mike hates the most. 
He’s still tired, maybe minutely more energetic from the sugary cake, but his body is still begging for a good rest. Yet, he doesn’t want you to leave. 
You start to grab your things, jacket pulled back on, purse thrown over your shoulder. Just before you can slip your shoes on, Mike stands from his spot on the recliner. 
“Do you want another slice?” He gestures lamely at the cake on the kitchen table. “We can’t eat this all on our own and I refuse to let Abby try.” 
A small laugh from you as you shake your head. “No, it’s okay. Abby should be able to enjoy the fruits of her labor.” 
“She’ll enjoy it too much until she has a cavity and I have a dentist bill.” A pause where your eyes shift over to the cake, then back to Mike. 
“I really don’t want to overstay my welcome.” 
“If that’s what you’re worried about then you’ve got it all wrong.” Mike replies as he walks to the cabinets, pulling out two small plates and then two forks right beneath it. He slices the cake, the pieces almost proportionate but you seem to have gotten just a bit more. 
Maybe it’ll take you longer to eat and Mike will be in your presence for just a bit more. 
It’s silent for just a few moments before you’re talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. 
Raves about the cake the three of you made turns into reminiscing about the triple chocolate cake they used to serve at Sparky’s before they underwent new management. The talk of new management turns into you ranting to Mike about the manager at your day job and Mike listens intensely, thrilled to have a new piece of information to add to the puzzle of your life. When you apologize, a little shy and maybe even embarrassed, Mike shakes it off instantly. 
“Don’t apologize for speaking your mind,” he tells you. You joke about the line being poetic and Mike finds himself revealing that he used to write teenage angst poetry in his bedroom at night. When you laugh, it’s not as if you’re belittling him, it’s different. Light, airy, filled with enthusiastic shock and a little bit of wonder. 
It makes him laugh, too, and for a moment he forgets that his sister is sleeping just down the hall.��
You both seem to remember at the same time, laughter tapering off into small intakes of air and then fizzling off completely in the vibrant night air. 
He glances at the clock on the wall. 
10:47. 
“It’s getting late,” Mike thinks out loud. 
When he turns back to you, you look a little sadder. “I guess I should get going then, yeah?” 
Shit. Mike wants the opposite. He wants you to stay over for the night. He’ll take the couch if it means you’ll take his bed. He wonders if the small space would smell like you afterwards. He pictures you sleeping in his clothes, forced to wear them instead of the jeans and sweater you wear now. 
He’s thinking too far ahead. 
“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.” 
You stand anyway, taking a final bite of your cake before you set the fork down. There’s still a tiny piece left, waiting for you, just as Mike is. 
He stands too. 
“No, it’s okay. You have work in the morning and I shouldn’t be on the road this late anyway.” Your jacket is zipped up, your purse is back over your shoulders. 
Mike says your name, firm despite the low volume. It’s vulnerable, a plea almost. It stops you, makes you look at him with wide and wondering eyes. 
It’s on him now. He’s the one who has to speak. 
He takes a breath. He licks his lips. 
“I would like it if you stayed. Honest.” 
His admission has weight to it. The words are that of a concerned friend, but the way his hands nervously play with his jeans and the way his eyes bounce around the room with your frame as a continuous anchor says much more than the eight words could have. 
Your voice just barely shakes when you speak. “Tell me I’m reading this wrong.” 
He shakes his head. “You’re not.” 
In the nervous energy that rakes through Mike’s body, it’s unclear to him who moves first. All he knows is one moment he’s staring into your eyes, and then the next his lips are against yours. 
The kiss is soft, nothing more than the lengthened press of lips against lips. His hand cradles the side of your face, yours bunches the fabric of his thermal around his bicep. And while it might be nothing objectively, it’s so much to Mike. For him to finally feel your lips against his, rougher than he imagined but even that means something to him. 
It’s euphoric. 
Your lips pull back from each other, but neither of you move. So, Mike is clear this time whenever he initiates, giving you one more safe kiss before he starts moving his lips against yours. Still, it’s polite, just like you deserve. 
His free hand presses into your middle back, pulling your chest into his. He tilts his head just a little for comfort. He’s holding back. 
You, on the other hand, aren’t. 
You pull Mike impossibly closer to you by his shirt, your other hand digging into the short hair at the back of Mike’s head. You turn the kiss into one of more desperation, parting your lips to introduce open mouthed kisses instead, slipping your tongue against his. 
Mike is trying to keep his composure as he reciprocates. He’s trying to muffle his little sounds before they even come out, push them down his throat. But they climb up anyway, jumping from his mouth to yours with the access. 
He can’t control himself whenever your body is pressed against his. He can’t hold back when he tastes the chocolate cake on the tip of your tongue and the mint leftover from the gum you’d been chewing earlier in the night. He presses his hips against yours, shamelessly displaying the tent that’s growing. He runs his hands along your sides and back and hips, feeling every curve he has analyzed with only his eyes from afar. You’re softer up close and it makes Mike want to feel you as you are, devoid of any clothing to cover you. He hopes he’ll get his wish soon. 
You pull away and Mike has to restrain himself from following your lips. 
“If I stay over,” his ears instantly perk up. “Can I wear your plaid pajama pants?” 
The grin he gives you is genuine. It hurts his cheeks and heals his soul. 
“Of course.”
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radicallxser · 1 month
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pt 2 to this post, can be read as a standalone but makes more sense if you've read the first part. reader isn't wearing a suit but remains pretty androgynous (i think). also yes i included steph's baby fight me idc
not beta read pls don't make fun of me
Why had you agreed to this?
A coworker had invited you to a gala, something about representing the company. You weren't sure why you of all people were asked, or why the coworker, what's his name, was so insistint you attend with him. Especially after he ditched you the moment you both arrived.
You stand awkwardly, swirling the drink you had accepted earlier. A few straggling groups chatted nearby, gossiping about things you didn't care enough to pay attention to. You had better things to think about, like how were you getting home and when you could leave.
Even more important; how was the baby? Was she alright? The sitter you hired wasn't your usual one, but she had vanished without a trace and it was such short notice-
Something, someone, collided with yourself.
"I'm so sorry-" That's what you get for standing near the stairs!
You look up quickly, meeting the gaze of one of the boys you had met the other day. His lips twitch downwards, his eyes focused on the spot where your drink had collided with your clothing. Before you can react, he sets his suit jacket over your shoulders.
"I'm so sorry", he states quickly, opening his mouth to add something else before being cut off by you.
"It's alright, Jason."
His looks shocked for a moment, before his lips turn up into a grin.
"You remembered my name!" He speaks in a town that seems uncharacteristic for him. Pure delight coats his face and he opens his mouth again just to be cut off.
"Jay-Jay! Look what you did!" Another familiar face approaches, a grin adorning the young man's features. He slaps Jason on the back, then turns to you.
"Sorry about my brother." Your brows furrow at this.
"Brothers..?"
"Not by choice", Jason adds quickly, "Atleast, not our choice."
The urge to ask is immediately wiped away as another familiar face approaches, tailed by someone you hadn't met and who's attention was trained on their phone.
The shorter of the two, the one who you had encountered before, spoke up in a clear tone that didn't quite suit his age.
"Father says to quit harassing the guests, Richard, and he'd like to speak with you, Jason."
Jason rolled his eyes. The boy on his phone timidly glanced up, flashing a quick smile.
"Hello", he spoke, then looked back toward his phone.
The shortest of them stared at you, his expression indifferent.
"My name is Damian Wayne. I'd like to thank you for the other day." You smile softly at him, then the realization dons on you.
'Damian Wayne, as in Bruce Wayne's son...?' Your thoughts are yet again interrupted by a voice.
"Boys!"
His voice is clearer in real life, but unmistakably him. You turn, watching one Bruce Wayne approach your small group. His smile seems to light up the room.
He's more handsome in real life, slight crow's feets crinkling near his eyes when he laughs and a shock of gray through his hair.
His arm is looped with a young blonde woman, a baby only a bit older than your own settled in the crook of her other arm. They both smile, stopping in front of you and the boys. Jason's hand suddenly disappears from your shoulder and everyone seems to take a step back.
You smile politely, extending your hand to him.
He takes it, unlooping his arm with the gorgeous woman and bending to press a kiss to it. He feels a pang of anger when he feels the callouses and scars on your hands. Standing straight once again, he grins.
"It's a pleasure, Mx...", your eyes widen when he speaks your last name. How did...?
His eyes trail over your form, then scan the faces of the boys surrounding you. He shakes his head.
"I apologize for their lack of manners. Please, boys, introduce yourselves."
The blonde woman steps forward, smiling at you.
"I'm Stephanie", she adjusts the infant in her arms, taking your hand and giving it a tender squeeze.
You notice Jason taking up a spot directly behind you, standing over you, or atleast attempting to.
"We've been introduced", he speaks gruffly, more to his father than to you. This atmosphere suddenly becomes thick with tension, it makes you shift in unease.
Dick puts himself between Stephanie and Bruce, smiling sheepishly.
"It's Richard Grayson, everyone calls me Dick."
The boy that was previously on his phone snickers, Bruce shoots him a pointed look.
"It's Tim", the boy mutters, immediately piping back down.
Damian takes up the other other side of Bruce and you note thier similar features.
"Well, it's been wonderful meeting you all, but I should be leaving", You smile awkwardly, pulling Jason's jacket tighter around your shoulders.
"Let me treat you to dinner", Bruce speaks almost desperately, then clears his throat, "to make up for my sons' rudeness."
Suddenly you're sat in a limo, stuck between Jason and Bruce.
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shadowlali · 8 months
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the house sitter
COD - Phillip Graves x fem!reader
[18+] wc: ~ 3.3k summary: Phillip gets help from the neighbors’ daughter. masterlist
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warnings: NSFW, no use of Y/N, not too many details on reader's appearance, reader can blush but in only one scene, implied age gap, use of toys by and on f!reader, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, some proofreading a/n: phillip rescues a stray in this and i actually think he would make a really great cat dad! :)
When Phillip bought the new home, he isn’t surprised to find a stray cat at the front door. He's surprised that he's come to care for the small, black cat. He isn’t a superstitious person, but the cat matching the colors of his beloved company only encourages him to believe that buying this home is a good sign. When he's informed of a pressing situation back at base, he's worried about leaving his new friend alone.
He speaks to his neighbors, your parents, and they're quick to offer you as a house sitter. Except, they don’t inform you he’s stopping by to leave the keys and instructions. You hear the doorbell ring and assume they've forgotten their house keys before their trip into the city. So, you open the door in tiny, cotton shorts and a bralette, fully expecting one of your parents to be standing in front of you. 
“Oh! Um, hi?” you ask, a little confused to see a stranger at your door. 
“Well hello there,” he pauses before continuing, “My name’s Phillip, I moved down the street. Your parents said you could house sit for me while I’m gone for a bit. My cat, Phantom, needs someone to feed and watch him.” 
The surprised look on your face is the culmination of a few things.
One, the stranger in front of you is the new neighbor your parents have talked about and who you thought was much older. However, the man in front of you can’t be older than mid-40’s and very handsome. Typical all-American good looks with blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
Two, you slowly become aware of the clothing, or lack of, that you are wearing. And while his eyes stay on your face the entire time, you don’t miss the quick sweep of his eyes and the smirk on his face before his feature cool again. You chalk it up to the heat of the sun that causes your body to warm up, and not because you like the way he looks at you.
Three, you have no idea what he was talking about.
“Nice to meet you Phillip uh – I’m sorry, you said you needed a house sitter for your cat, Phantom? And you spoke to my parents?” 
“Ah! I guess they didn’t tell you yet. I just spoke to them on the phone and they said if it's alright with you, you could stay at my house. I’d offer to bring Phantom here, but I think it's best if he stays home.”
“Yeah, okay. I could do that. How long will you be gone?”
“Two weeks, give or take. I fly out tonight and I’ll let you know once I’m flying back. I don’t mind if you have your friends or a boyfriend over as long as Phantom stays calm.” 
Now Phillip doesn’t need to mention the boyfriend part, but he can’t deny how curious he is to see if you have one. He wasn’t expecting a sweet nymph, like you, to open the door, especially in those tiny shorts and even tinier shirt. Could it even be called a shirt? 
“Uh no – don’t worry. My friends aren’t back yet for their summer break. And… no boyfriend. It’ll just be me and Phantom at your house.” 
Phillip smiles wide, “Well, darlin’, I’m sure you and Phantom will have a good time.” 
You try not to let it show how much you enjoy the pet-name he gives you or the slip of his southern accent, your nipples becoming sensitive against the bralette and a deep pulse being sent directly to your pus– 
“How about I get your number before I leave and take you over to the house so you can get a good lay of the land?” 
“Yeah, that sounds good. Um, let me change and put on some shoes. I’ll be right back.” 
You hear a light laugh as he steps inside to wait for you. The short drive to his house is mostly uneventful. He asks you a few questions about what you're studying and if you had taken care of a cat before. You actually love cats, and are used to your roommate’s cat back at college.
You also think it's incredibly kind that Phillip took in stray, not expecting someone so imposing to worry about defenseless animals. Phantom has a shiny black coat and is so cuddly the moment you walk in the door. He wraps around your legs, purring deeply. You bend down to pet his soft head, Phantom taking that moment to jump in your arms. 
Phillip laughs,“ Looks like he really likes you.” 
“I think I just fell in love. I’ll take good care of Phantom. I promise.” 
“I believe you.” 
He shows you around the house, smooth wood and dark leather a theme throughout. Phillip’s home is far from cluttered, but there are touches of him everywhere. He has photos of what you assume are the soldiers at his company, books placed in random spots as if he needs something to read while in a certain part of the home, but so incredibly tidy and clean. 
“Phantom’s taken a liking to sleeping in this bed, I just keep my door open at night in case he wants to come in. He’ll get antsy if I’m downstairs too late, so I try to be upstairs at a good time for him to do his security rounds and then sleep,” Phillip says with a laugh as he brings you upstairs, motioning to the fluffy bed next to his door.  
“The guest bedrooms are down the hall. They’re not set up yet and I have too many boxes in there to move right now. You are more than welcome to sleep in my room. I’d actually prefer if you did, to not throw Phantom off his routine. I changed the sheets before I went over.” 
Phillip does have too many boxes inside all of the guest bedrooms, so it's not exactly a lie. He's short on time, and can’t stay for too long. And sure, they're all empty boxes that he can easily move into one room. But the idea of you lying down in his bed arouses him like no other. 
“Uh, are you sure? I mean I could move some stuff around, I don’t mind,” you say, a blush rising on your cheeks at the idea of sleeping in his bed. 
“I’m sure, darlin’. I think you’ll like sleeping in my bed," he says, sending a quick wink your way. 
Phillip takes you back home after the tour and gives you a set of keys and written instructions. You pack your essentials, transferring some clothes from your unpacked suitcases into a duffel bag while you wait for your parents to get home.
While arranging your things, you manage to drop the small, black box that holds… well, what helps you destress and take the edge off on these long nights. It's thick, dark pink, and vibrates with enough intensity for you to see stars.
You debate for a second if you want to take it with you. Two weeks without your toy seems too long. You were actually going to use it while home alone but were interrupted and left a little hot after meeting Phillip. You quickly stuff it into your bag once you hear the door open and your parents’ voices float through the house. 
Phillip’s house is cozy and interesting. He has a large book collection in his home library and a collection of vinyls. Phantom is great company, either lounging on the various cat posts set up through the house while you read and listen to music, or lying in your lap when he wants attention.
Phillip’s kitchen is fully stocked and has a few plants along the window sill. His garage has only one vintage sports car and a motorcycle, the other lifted truck being taken by him. The nights spent in Phillip’s bed make your heart race. The sheets smell like fresh laundry and the unmistakable scent of sandalwood cologne. You associate that smell to Phillip: clean and woodsy. 
You try so hard to be good the first night and respect his bed, but your fantasies run wild. Dreams of Commander Graves spreading your lush thighs and stroking you with his tongue or fingers until your vision goes black. Dreams of his hands gripping your waist as he pounds into you, your hands clawing the sheets from the pleasure.
On the second night, you grab a towel and place it on the bed, knowing you'll cover the silk sheets with your wetness. You're a little nervous and feel a little guilty. What would he think if he saw you right now? Would he enjoy it? Or kick you out and call your parents? Ultimately, the positive fantasies win as the toy is thick and able to hit all the right places. And that’s how you spend your nights, either in Phillip’s ginormous tub using the toy or in his bed. 
It's nearing three weeks at this point. Phillip had let you know it might be a little longer until he came back and you know it would be difficult for him to contact you while out doing his job. You should’ve been prepared for him to come back and maybe not let you know in time. Which is exactly what happens.
Phillip has exerted serious amounts of energy these past few weeks. He didn't expect this mission to take so long, but luckily he's back on his jet flying home. Before he knows it, he's passed out from exhaustion and doesn’t call or text you that he's coming back. Once the jet touches down, it's nearing midnight.
Phillip decides against contacting you, believing you’ll be asleep by this time. A short while later, he arrives home and walks in. Phillip walk into the downstairs bathroom, hearing the pitter patter of Phantom’s paws coming to greet him. Phillip’s heart soars, Phantom’s coat only shinier and smoother since he last saw him. Phillip takes a shower, allowing the hot water to wash away his exhaustion. 
Phillip would be lying if he said he isn’t at all curious to know what you look like sleeping in his bed. He tries to stay downstairs, knowing he could go into his office and read or watch TV in the living room without disturbing you.
But, what if there is something wrong? What if you had kicked the covers off and were cold in your sleep? What if you left the window open and the hot air was causing it to be incredibly hot in the room? Deciding that he's only thinking of your well being, he ascends the stairs two at a time.
Once he nears his room, he hears low whines and a quiet vibration sound coming from within. Thinking you're in pain, he pushes open the door, seeing your pretty legs spread wide, your head thrown back in pleasure, and the unmistakable view of you fucking yourself with a thick, pink dildo. 
“Just like that Commander Graves, fuck me just like that! Oh God,” you plead. 
You didn’t hear Phillip walk into his home or the shower turn on in the downstairs bathroom. Granted, Phillip is a skilled soldier who learned to walk quietly given the nature of his job.
You also don’t hear the woosh of the door push open, only hearing the low groan escape from his throat. You jump up in fear, your face beet red once you realize who stands at the door. You're incredibly embarrassed, to say the least. 
“Oh – fuck! Holy – I’m so sorry Phillip! I didn’t hear you get home! I didn’t hear my phone either! I'm so, so sorry!” you exclaim, voice on the verge of tears. 
Phillip stays still for only a moment, his chest bare and a pair of black silk pajama pants low on his hips. 
His hand drag across his face, a smile forming on his lips. ”Who were you imagining?” 
“I – what?”
“Who. Were. You. Imagining?” Philip enunciates each word, walking closer to the bed. 
Your breathing is fast, your mind trying to catch up to what is happening. ”I – Phillip, I’m sor–” 
“No, I don’t want to hear that you're sorry. I want you to answer my question,” he orders. 
“I was imagining… you, that it was you, fucking me,” you whisper.
“Is that what you want, babydoll? You want Commander Graves to fuck you? You want my tongue on your clit and my fingers inside that pretty cunt? You want me to fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk tomorrow mornin’?” 
You whimper at his words, your pussy hot and slick. He nears the bed, dragging his fingers across the sheets, close to your legs but not quite touching you. 
“I need you to ask me, babydoll. I won’t do it unless you ask me.” 
“Yes Commander. Please, I want you.” 
He grabs both of your ankles and drags your ass to the edge of the bed, your head falling backwards against the mattress. Your thighs are spread obscenely at his waist, your thin nightgown pushed off your shoulders and ruched at your stomach leaving your breasts and pussy bare to his eyes.
He looms over you, dragging his mouth and tongue over your nipples before capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. Phillip’s soft lips caress yours with each kiss, tasting like mint. His tongue plunges in and out of your mouth while his fingers skate from your ribcage to your soft thighs. He gives you one more wet kiss before having you remove the nightgown, his eyes trailing down to your open thighs. 
“This cunt as sweet as it looks? So slick and creamy for me?” 
You can’t respond, can only watch him fall to his knees to tongue your entrance. Your heart beats in your throat a mile a minute. Your mouth opens in a scream, back arching as his tongue lashes from your entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Phillip’s moan vibrates against your core, moving his fingers to tease your slick entrance. He pushes a finger in slowly, allowing you to adjust before pushing in a second finger. 
“Fuck darlin’,” his mouth moving to leave small bites along your inner thighs, ”your cunt swallowed my fingers so quickly. Look at how red and swollen you are, so desperate for me.” 
His fingers speed up, curving inside with each thrust. 
“Commander, ah! Fuck, just like that!” your cry, voice high pitched and needy. 
“How often did you fuck yourself in my bed? Did you wish I was here with you? Watching you play with this pretty cunt until I fucked you silly?” 
“It was the da –” he takes that moment to give a hard lick to your button, interrupting you, ”day after I got here. Yes, I ima – imagined you fuck – fucking me in your bed.” Each word becomes more difficult to say as pleasure claws at your skin. 
His hand reaches for the toy thrown haphazardly to your side, turning it on and placing it at your entrance. Phillip continues lapping, inserting the toy inch by inch. Your denied orgasm from earlier only causes this one to hit you like a truck.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for the feel of the toy deep inside of you, vibrating non-stop and the feel of Phillip’s tongue slashing at your clit. You move your hips, trying to escape the torrent of pleasure. 
Phillip places a firm hand on your lower belly, preventing you from moving, ”Take it.” 
You squirt on his mouth and the toy, feeling like you're floating. He finally removes and turns off the toy, wiping his mouth along your inner thighs. 
“How was that babydoll?”
You're drunk off pleasure, only able to respond with a small groan. He laughs and mounts the bed, dragging you up to the pillows. Your body is incredibly lax, allowing him to maneuver you he wants.
He places a pillow under your hips, getting you level with his waist. Phillip finally kicks off his pajama pants, freeing his heavy cock. Your energy slowly returning, you place tentative fingers along his length, loving how firm he is. He wraps your hand fully around his length and gives a few pumps, leaning down to kiss your lips and chin. 
“Your hands are so soft, darlin’. But I can’t have you touch me too long or else I'll finish too soon. I want to sink in your swollen cunt first, will you let me?” 
Your body shudders at his words, ”Yes Commander.” 
Phillip leans back, his smile wide, showing his fanged teeth at the corners of his mouth. He spreads open your thighs, pushing your knee to your chest. You're fully and completely exposed to him. The bright moonlight highlights your perfectly swollen and slick cunt. Phillip teases your entrance before slowly pushing in.
“Babydoll,” the nickname draws out in a groan, ”you feel so fucking gorgeous.” 
He sinks all the way in, his hips fusing to your folded thigh. Phillip drags out in an unhurried pace, wanting to burn this moment into his mind and body forever. He's a clever and accomplished man who commands respect in every room, but his brain has completely short circuited in this moment.
All he can think about is your gummy walls squeezing him into oblivion, your sweet aroma, and the moans slipping from your throat. Phillip reaches with one hand to pluck your nipples, hard tipped and begging for attention. Your hips begin to twist and match his rhythm, his hips pumping faster and the wet noises becoming louder. You place a hand over his, making sure he doesn’t stop kneading your breasts. 
“My poor babydoll… All alone in this big bed. Having to touch herself every night until I got home. So ready and needy for me.”
His words are like honey over your skin. 
Your voice is pleading when you whine, ”I needed you so bad, Commander.” 
“I’m here now, babydoll.”
You're being fucked into the mattress, each thrust deep and unrelenting. His eyes move from your face to your jiggling tits and to your slick lower bodies. Phillip moves his thumb to swipe repeatedly at your clit, causing electric sparks to shoot behind your eyes.
His thrusts become sloppy and clumsy, lips placing kisses along your jaw and mouth. You twist and squeeze around him, loving how perfect he feels inside of you, much better than you could’ve imagined. Phillip moves to bury his head in your neck, your leg bent as far as possible as he drags out completely before sliding back in with hard strokes.
Lightning spreads fast throughout your body, your nails dragging down Phillip’s back. You cover his cock in your wetness, Phillip’s body becoming weak from the pleasure. He follows shortly after, his moans loud in your ear. Phillip spills inside of you, fucking you until every last drop of him is inside of you. He drops halfway on you, your bodies sticky with sweat. 
“You okay?” Phillip asks after a few moments. 
“Perfect.” 
The rest of the night is spent with your legs around his waist or your ass up while he pounds from behind. You stay a few extra nights at his home, letting your parents know you're still helping while Phillip recovers from his mission. Phantom loves every minute of the extra attention. 
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togrowoldinv · 9 months
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Just Right
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
You and Natasha have your first date. In an unexpected turn, she ends up bonding with your young daughter
Note: This is soft soft soft Nat. I’ve had this idea for a while. Enjoy it!
Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist
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When you first met Natasha, you had no idea that she would ever fall for you. It didn’t make sense. She is a world class assassin turned superhero and you’re a business woman.
But you immediately felt drawn to each other from the moment you locked eyes. There was an issue with Nat’s paycheck, and you were the woman to see about it.
The redhead waltzed into your office and left with her problem resolved and a new crush. Natasha then kept making excuses to see you.
Most of the time there was no issue at all, but she’d still come to your office. She wanted to see you. And you weren’t going to complain.
Finally, Natasha asked you out. It was the easiest yes of your life. But now standing at your closet, having no idea what to wear, you wonder if it was the right decision.
Natasha will be here in 15 minutes and you’re still in your bathrobe. Your saving grace comes in the form of your young daughter. The one you haven’t told Natasha about.
“You should wear this, Mom,” the little girl says. She points to a black dress that does frame your body well.
“You think so, sweetie?” You ask.
“Yes. You look so pretty in it!” She remarks.
You kiss her cheeks as a way to say thank you and take the dress out of your closet. Slipping it on, you glance in the mirror. It feels good.
The next fifteen minutes fly by and there’s a knock at your door. You walk through the foyer to open the door.
When you do, Natasha is standing on the other side. She wears a black tshirt and jeans with her signature leather jacket. A comfortable but attractive look on her.
“Hey y/n,” Natasha says. Her eyes rake over your body. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you reply, a heat in your cheeks and neck. “So are you. I just need a moment if you want to come in.”
Natasha nods and enters your home. She loves the way it feels so cozy even just two steps inside. She’s waiting by the door when your daughter approaches her.
“Oh, hi there,” Natasha says, her brow raising in question. “What’s your name?”
“Hi, I’m Taylor,” the girls answers. “Are you here to see my mommy?”
“Yes I am. I’m Natasha.”
Nat holds out her hand for the girl to shake and she does so surprisingly well for a seven year old.
“I like your flowers,” Taylor says, pointing to the roses in Natasha’s hand.
She was going to give them to you when she walked in, but you disappeared too quickly.
“Here,” Nat says while handing Taylor the bouquet. “For you.”
“All of them?” Taylor gasps.
“Mhm,” Nat assures her.
“Wow! Thank you!” Taylor cheers. She takes off running towards your room where you meet her at the doorway. “Mommy look! Tasha gave me these!”
“Tasha did, hm?” You ask, glancing to Nat. She only shrugs and smiles at the nickname from the girl. “Did you say thank you?”
“I did,” Taylor says.
“Good job, baby,” you tell her. She preens at the compliment. “Be good tonight, okay?”
“Yes ma’am I will,” she replies.
The sitter arrives at the house right on time and Taylor pulls her inside quickly to show her the new toys she just got. Natasha leads you out to her car.
“So, you have a daughter,” she says.
“I do. Is that a deal breaker?” You ask.
“Absolutely not. She’s cute,” Natasha says. “Plus, I kind of gathered from the photos of the little girl in your office.”
“You knew?”
“I know most things,” Natasha says, grinning from the driver’s seat.
You shake your head and get lost in the feeling of being on a date again. She parks the car outside of the restaurant.
“I hope you came hungry,” she says. “This is one of my favorite places.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” you say. “But I’m excited to try it.”
You walk into the restaurant with Natasha. Her hand hovers over your back as she leads you inside and to a table. There’s a card that says reserved. You look to Natasha.
“I told them I was bringing a date,” she chuckles. “I guess they took it seriously.”
You smile and slide into one side of the booth while Nat sits in the other. She takes off her jacket to reveal her muscular arms. The black t-shirt hugs her biceps perfectly. You watch as she intently reads the menu and you try to think of something to say. But the silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable.
“What do you recommend, Natasha?” You ask her.
Her eyes look up from the menu to meet yours. She tells you about all the different foods she likes here. You find it all a bit funny that a superhero knows so much about a local restaurant’s burgers, but it makes you fall harder for Natasha.
The conversation flows easily from there. You tell her about your life and she tells you about hers. You’re sure she leaves out some of the less than happy details.
It’s about an hour into the date when your phone rings. It’s the sitter.
“I’m sorry. I need to answer this,” you excuse yourself as you walk outside while answering the phone.
While you’re gone, the waiter asks Natasha if it’s going well. She smiles and gives him a thumbs up.
You come back inside with a frown on your face. Nat stands up in reaction.
“What’s wrong?” She asks.
“The sitter has to leave, so I have to leave. I’m so sorry, Natasha.”
“Hey, that’s okay,” she says. She places a comforting hand on your arm before turning to the waiter. “Put this on my tab?”
“Can do! Have a good one!” They say.
“Thank you. Let’s go,” Nat says. She grabs her jacket and leads you back to her car.
When she gets in the driver’s seat, she holds the jacket in her lap kind of awkwardly as she drives.
“Do you want me to hold it?” You ask her.
“Oh, that’s okay. I was going to put in the back but then I just didn’t for the sake of time,” she says, with a cute look on her face.
“I’ll hold it,” you say this time. Not a question. She lets you take it from her lap while she continues to drive.
You hold it against your lap. And it’s oddly warm. A lot like just being around Natasha feels like.
She pulls into your driveway and comes to open your door for you. You notice she doesn’t ever miss a chance to do that. You don’t have time to linger at your door, so you turn the key and relieve the baby sitter.
She says her apologies before she leaves and tells you that Taylor is asleep in her bed. That won’t last, you think.
During all of this, Natasha stands just inside the door.
“Come further in, Natasha,” you say, gesturing towards the living room.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. I- um- I was having a good time, so maybe we could keep this date going?” You ask, taking a chance.
“I’d love that,” Natasha replies. You breathe a sigh of relief.
Natasha makes herself comfortable on the couch where she’s noted you set her jacket down while you go to the kitchen. You emerge a few minutes later.
“Well, it seems I have no wine, but I do have juice boxes,” you say. You hold them up and grin.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure of drinking from a juice box,” Natasha says.
“Really? Oh Natasha, this is about to change your life,” you say dramatically.
You sit next to her and show her how to put the straw in the box. She does successfully and tastes the sweet, way too sugary drink for the first time.
“So, what do you think?” You ask.
“I like it,” she says. “It’s weirdly fun to drink out of the straw.”
You’re about to reply when you hear the sound of little feet.
“Taylor, baby?” You call into the hallway.
“Mommy?” She asks confusedly in her sleepy haze.
You open your arms and she walks to your embrace easily, planting herself on your lap. She buries her face in your chest.
“Did we wake you up?” You ask her. She shakes her head against you.
Natasha graciously takes the juice box from you so that you can hold Taylor with both hands.
“Okay. Let’s go back to bed,” you say, standing up with her in your arms.
“Wait,” Taylor mumbles. She reaches an arm out towards the couch. “With Tasha.”
“Baby, it’s Ms. Natasha or Ms. Tasha at the least,” you correct her manners. You let it slide earlier, but you want Natasha to stick around.
“Tasha is just fine,” Natasha joins in the conversation.
“Okay,” you agree. “Come on ladies.”
Natasha follows as you take Taylor back to her bedroom. The room is covered in fun, pink decorations. It makes Nat smile to see a little girl able to be so safe and happy.
“Goodnight sweetheart,” you say, kissing Taylor on the head.
“Goodnight mommy,” she says. “Tasha, can I talk to you?”
“Oh,” you remark. “Is that okay?”
“Of course,” Nat says. “If it’s okay with you?”
You nod and step back to the doorway. It’s far enough to give her space with the girl, but close enough to hear what they say.
“Are you going to come here a lot?” Taylor asks.
“Oh, I’m not sure. I would like to I think,” Natasha replies. She sits on the bed next to Taylor. “What do you think about that?”
“Will you bring me more flowers?” A hopeful smile rests on her face.
“Yes, I will. What’s your favorite flower?”
“I don’t know,” she says.
“That’s okay,” Nat assures her. “Is pink your favorite color?”
“Yes ma’am,” Taylor replies. “How did you know?”
“It was a wild guess,” Natasha jokes. It goes over the little girl’s head but you appreciate her awareness of her surroundings. “I just might bring you pink flowers next time I see you, okay?”
“Pink flowers! Yay!” Taylor cheers. Her eyes droop closed as she fights sleep.
“Goodnight, malyshka. It was nice to meet you,” Natasha says.
“Night Tasha,” she mumbles.
Nat stands up from the bed and you take her hand as you walk back to the living room.
“Was that okay? I don’t want to overstep but I definitely want to see you again and-“
You cut her off by hugging her tight. Your arms are around her neck and she places hers around your waist.
“Thank you,” you say. She holds you for as long as you need. And it’s definitely a long time. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she says. “Thank you for tonight. I had a really great time.”
“Even with the interruption?”
“Especially with the interruption. Who else is going to ask me to bring them flowers all the time?” Natasha jokes. “She’s great.”
“She’s the best,” you say, a laugh falling from your lips.
“I should probably go,” Natasha wonders aloud.
“Yeah,” you agree. “But before you do maybe you can finish your juice box?”
You’re reaching for ways to spend more time with her, but she doesn’t complain. She sits next to you on the couch again and drinks some more of her juice.
“You know I bet the guys would want to see proof of my first juice box drink,” Natasha says. “Would you want to take a picture?”
“Absolutely,” you agree.
You get your phone out and point it at her, but she takes it from your hands.
“I meant of us,” Natasha says. You were hoping that was the case.
You hold up the juice box and smile while Natasha does the same. You immediately text it to her. Admittedly, it’s a cute photo. You see her save it as your contact photo in her phone.
“It’s late,” you note.
“It is,” Natasha says. She stands from the couch as you stand with her. There’s a silence as she steps closer to you. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes please,” you say.
Natasha’s smile reaches up to her eyes as she takes your face in her hands and kisses your lips. It’s a soft, slow kiss. And it’s absolutely perfect.
“I’ll call you?” She asks.
“And text me too,” you reply.
She nods and you walk her to the door. She kisses your lips once more before she steps out onto the porch.
“Hey, you forgot your jacket,” you call after her.
“Keep it,” Nat says. “I’ll get it next time.”
You grin and watch as she gets in her car and drives off.
From that day on, Natasha never forgets to bring Taylor pink flowers. Even when she runs out of types she can get, she has Tony make her new variants.
And everything with Natasha is just right.
1K notes · View notes
waitimcomingtoo · 6 months
Text
Dog Days are Over
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Synopsis: Tom hires you as a dog walker but ends up wanting more
Masterlist
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“Coming.” Tom called when he heard his doorbell ring. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so he made no effort to look presentable before opening the door. Once unlocked his front door, he found you standing outside. You smiled awkwardly and gave a stiff wave. He quickly fixed his hair when he realized his surprise visitor was a girl and leaned against his doorframe in an attempt to look cool.
“Hi. Tom?” You asked him.
“Hi, yeah, that’s me. And you are?”
“Y/n. Your brother hired me to help you out. He said you were in desperate need of my service.” You explained. Tom shut his eyes in embarrassment and felt himself turn bright red.
“My brother? Oh my God. Look, you’re very pretty and I’m sure you’re very good at your job-“
“Slow down. I’m a dog sitter.” You clarified. “And walker. And some might even say whisperer.”
“Oh.” He smiled in surprise. “A dog sitter? Right. I knew that.”
“You thought I was a sex worker, didn’t you?” You said with a raise of your eyebrow.
“I did.” He admitted. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. They make a lot of money. If I had any of those skills, I’d be doing that instead. But alas, my talent lies with getting dogs to be obedient.”
“This was the strangest start to a conversation I’ve ever had.” Tom said, mostly to himself.
“You know what? Me too.” You laughed, making him relax and laugh as well.
“Why don’t I show you my dog and then we can discuss what I might need you for?” Tom offered and stepped to the side. You smiled shyly at him and walked into his house with him following behind you. You took a moment to look around his space to get to know him a little. He had photos of his family and his dog all around, as well as memorabilia from past films he was in as well. He disappeared into the other room for a second before returning with Tessa in his arms.
“So this is the woman in my life. Tessa. The only woman in my life.” He emphasized, making you look at him sympathetically.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. When did your mom pass?” You asked him as you pet Tessa.
“Oh, no. She’s fine. She sent me a recipe for cornbread this morning. I just meant I have no romantic prospects.” Tom quickly corrected.
“Oh. Okay.” You laughed awkwardly and looked to the side.
“Sorry. I feel like I’m talking so much. And that all the things I’m saying are insane and embarrassing. Are you also feeling like that?” He asked you through a nervous laugh.
“I’m not feeling anything except this coat. What shampoo do you use on her?” You asked in baby voice as you put your nose against Tessa and scratched her ears. She immediately warmed up to you in a way Tom had never seen her do before with a stranger. He smiled and looked at you fondly before realizing he actually had to answer your question.
“Oh, uh. Rain, mostly. Sometimes dish soap if she bumps into me while I’m washing dishes.” Tom answered honestly, making you crack a smile and look up at him. He smiled in relief when you found his word vomit funny.
“You hand wash your dishes? In this big ass house?” You laughed and looked around.
“I do. Is that weird? I feel like it keeps me humble. Like, if I ever started using my dishwasher, I’d become James Franco overnight.”
“I like that.” You chuckled. “I just figured you’d have someone to do that for you. You know, since you’re Spiderman and all.”
“I’m not one of those celebrities. I don’t pay people to wipe my butt and stuff. I’m just a regular guy.”
“Wow. That’s definitely the first time I’ve heard a “I’m not like other celebrities” speech.” You said sarcastically but playfully.
“Oh yeah? What are you, some kind of celebrity dog walker?” Tom humored you and put Tessa down. She immediately nuzzled up to your leg and laid down on your foot.
“You could say that.” You smiled coyly and bent down to pet Tessa.
“Oh. I was trying to tease you but I guess that’s exactly what your job is.” He laughed and bent down as well to be eye level with you.
“Yep. That’s how your brother found me. I was walking one of Ariana Grande’s thousand dogs and it bit Harry on the ankle out side of a Panera.”
“Oh shit. Tolouse?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?” You smiled in surprise.
“That’s the only one I know.” He sheepishly admitted.
“Honestly, me too. I just call “Toulouse” and make kissy sounds and they all come running. All 500 of them.”
“Kissy sounds?” He laughed in confusion.
“You know.” You smiled shyly and made kissing sounds to show Tom what you meant.
“Oh. I like that. See, this is how I call Tess.” He said and stood up. He then bent his knees a little and patted his thighs. Tessa stopped cuddling you to run to him.
“Ah, yes. The old crouch and pat. You know your stuff.” You smiled and stood up straight.
“I’m glad you approve.” He said as he blushed at the compliment, even if it was stupid.
“I do. I respond to the same call actually.” You joked.
“Good to know.” Tom laughed. You looked at each other for a minute and a silence filled the room for a little too long. It was surprisingly not awkward, just noticeable. Tom felt unusually comfortable with you and liked that Tessa did too.
“So what kind of services do you think you might need?” You asked to break the silence.
“Well, I travel a lot for work. So I need someone to look after her while I’m away. She’s a really good dog, though. She does all her business on walks which I try to do twice a day and she never bites or growls. Except at my brother. But he usually growls first.”
“She sounds great.” You laughed and gave Tessas chin a scratch.
“She is. She’s kinda my best friend.”
“That’s sweet. Have you had her a long time?”
“Since I was 16, yeah.” Tom told you.
“Aw.” You pouted. “She grew up with you.”
“Yeah. She did. Though neither of us got much bigger than we were when we first met.” Tom tried to joke.
“You’re the same size you were at 16?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Height wise, unfortunately yes. But fortunately I grew in other places since being 16, if you know what I mean.” Tom replied, immediately regretting it. You raised both eyebrows at him this time and looked at Tessa to see if she heard that too.
“Oh. Cool.” You laughed awkwardly.
“I wish I didn’t say that.” He admitted.
“I wish that too.” You nodded before an awkward silence fell. you stared at each other for a moment before Tom changed the subject.
“Let me show you around.” He offered and put his hand on your back to lead you around the house. He brought you into all the rooms and ended the tour in his pantry.
“And this is where I keep her treats and food. And her heart worm medication but that’s just a once a month pill.”
“Oh, sick. I’ve eaten a few of these. They look exactly like my gummy vitamins.” You nodded and tapped the box of medication.
“Do they work?” He genuinely wondered.
“Well, I’ve never had heart worm.” You shrugged.
“Wow. At least now I know they really work.”
“So is it just you that lives here?” You wondered and looked around again.
“My best friend Harrison lives here too. And my brothers occasionally stay over.”
“These guys?” You asked and pointed to a nearby framed picture.
“Yeah. That’s my family.” He smiled proudly.
“Woah. That’s a lot of boys. Bless your moms heart.” You chuckled and touched the picture.
“Yeah. She’s a saint for putting up with all of us. We did not make it easy.”
“You’re definitely the cutest.” You said without taking your eyes off the picture.
“Oh. Why, thank you.” Tom smiled in surprise and touched his cheek to his shoulder.
“I was talking to Tessa.”
“Oh.” His smile fell.
“I’m just teasing. I was talking about you.” You patted his shoulder before moving past him. Tom chuckled a little and touched his shoulder where your hand had been before going after you.
“So does anyone else occasionally stay over?” You asked, wanting to circle back to the “no romantic prospects” conversation.
“No. No one.”
“Hm.” You nodded and turned your head away from him to smile at the answer. No one staying over confirmed no girlfriend.
“What about at your house?” He asked you, wondering the same things you were wondering.
“I live in a flat above a bakery. So other than the occasional rat, no. No overnight guests.” You told him, knowing exactly why he asked.
“Oh my. Those wouldn’t be the friendly rats that can cook, right?”
“Unfortunately not. They’re the unfriendly kind that run across your floor in the middle of the night and scare the absolute shit out of you.”
“I bet you wish you had an overnight guest then. To help you fend off the rats.” Tom joked as he moved closer to you.
“Oh, absolutely. Everyone knows trapping and releasing a rat is at the very least a two man job.” You humored him. He laughed and realized he felt comfortable with you as if he had known you for years instead of just a few minutes.
“I don’t know about you, but I think this pairing has been a success. Do you think you’ll take the job?”
“I could definitely add Miss Tessa to my roster.” You nodded, making Tom first pump subtly.
“Perfect. Let me get your information then.” He smiled and handed you his phone to get your number. You gladly accepted it and typed it in, adding a dog emoji next to your name so he remembered.
“When can you start?”
“How’s right now sound?”
“That’s perfect. I’ll come and show you my usually routes.” Tom said and brought you over to where he kept Tessa’s many leashes.
“So how long have you been walking dogs?” Tom asked once you were stroking down the sidewalk together with Tessa pulling you.
“Five years. I started doing it during college for extra cash and then dropped out of college because I realized no matter what I got my degree in or what job was offered to me, I’d rather be with the dogs.”
“So you’re an animal person I take it?” He chuckled at your explanation.
“Big time.” You nodded. “But not enough to be a vet or a zoologist. Dog walker was the perfect solution for me.”
“You seem really good at it.“ Tom tried to compliment you.
“It’s really not that hard.” You pointed out, making him shut his eyes in embarrassment.
“Yeah. It felt like a stupid compliment as soon as I said it.” He admitted. You laughed and squeezed his arm, making him relax and stop feeling embarrassed.
“It’s okay.” You laughed. “You tried. It’s the effort that matters the most with girls. Trust me.”
“Oh really? Not the execution?”
“That’s important too. But I guess for me personally, I just want to know you’re trying. I don’t care if it comes out weird.”
“That’s good to know. I always come out weird.” Tom replied, then instantly felt regret.
“I didn’t mean it like-“
“I figured.” You laughed again and looked at him.
“We need to change the subject. What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?”
“Hm, that’s a good question. Maybe the time that someone told me once that they always felt listened to when they talked to me. And that resonated more than anytime I’d ever been called pretty.” You answered him.
“Well you probably hear that one a lot. I’d imagine it loses meaning after a while.” He said, making you smile shyly at the subtle compliment.
“It depends on who says it.” You said and looked over your shoulder at him as Tessa tugged you forward.
“Well, I think you’re beautiful.” He said as stopped walking. You stopped walking as well and turned to look at him.
“Gross.” You said, taking him by surprise.
“What?”
“Sorry. That just came out. I don’t react to compliments well.” You said and slapped your hand over your mouth.
“Oh. It’s okay.” He laughed and started walking again. You fell into a stride beside him again and relaxed when he didn’t find your reaction to the compliment too weird.
“What I meant to say was thank you.” You told him.
“Maybe I’ll be able to give you a better one once I get to know you a little better.” He replied, making you smile.
“It’s nice to have goals.” You said coyly.
“It definitely is.” He chuckled and never took his eyes off you.
“Tess, I think I may be in love.” Tom announced once you had gone back home. Tessa didn’t look up from her very busy and engaging task of licking her foot.
“I know I just met her. But come on. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel the chemistry.” Tom continued while Tessa kept licking her foot.
“Why are you getting so defensive? I didn’t say you had to call her mommy.“ Tom scoffed. Tessa stood up and tilted her head to the side.
“But I might.” He added with a cheeky smile. Tessa sighed and laid down on the floor.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. That was a bad joke.” He agreed while Tessa rolled over and laid on her side.
“Look, darling, I know change is scary. It’s scary for me too. But it can’t be just us forever, princess. You’ve been the only woman in my life for too long now. It’s time to add someone else.” Tom said gently as he bent down to pet Tessa. Tessa licked his hand and he sighed.
“You’re right.” He agreed. “I don’t even know how she feels. But I swear, Tess, there was a spark. I felt it. And I think she did too.”
Tom pulled out his phone and started to write to you. Tessa let out a little whine and stamped her feet.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m texting her her work schedule. You’re getting walked every day from now on.” He told Tessa. Tessa shook out her body in response.
“I know you already get walked everyday. I was making a joke about how I’m gonna make her walk you everyday so I get to see her more. Keep up.” Tom said sarcastically. Tessa whined again and Tom felt bad for sassing her.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t let her come between us.” Tom told her. Tessa laid down on the floor in response.
“What?” Tom laughed in surprise. “No. You have a dirty mind.”
Tom asked you to come over the next day for your first day or work. He spent the morning tidying up the house, then made it a little messy so you wouldn’t expect the house to be clean every time you came over. Finally, he heard the doorbell ring.
“Oh my God. It’s her. Be cool.” He warned Tessa as he smoothed his hair.
“Hi. I brought you muffins. I felt like I had to announce that immediately or else I’d be awkwardly holding this box and looking for an appropriate time to say I have muffins.” You said as soon as Tom opened the door. He smiled and felt himself relax when he realized you were just as nervous as he was.
“Aw, darling. You didn’t have to do that.” He said as he took the muffin box from you. You stepped inside and he helped you out of your coat. You felt your face heat up and he hands slid down your arms to take the coat off but didn’t see that he had a matching blush across his face.
“It was no trouble. I get them for free when the bakery messes up a batch.” You admitted.
“Oh, really? What’s wrong with these?” Tom laughed nervously and pulled out of the box.
“I didn’t ask.” You told him. You both stared at the muffin in his hand for a minute before caving.
“I’ll try it if you do.” He said.
“Okay. Deal.” You smiled and nodded your head. Tom took a bite and then handed the muffin to you. Instead of turning it around, you bit right where Tom’s mouth had just been. He took this as your first kiss and felt his face heat up.
“Not bad.” He shrugged after swallowing the muffin.
“Yeah. I guess we’ll never know.” You laughed and put the muffin back in the box.
“What bakery did you say these were from?”
“Destiny Bakery. I live in the apartment right above it.” You told him.
“I remember you mentioning that. I didn’t realize it was that bakery. I love that one. The couple that owns it has that cute little girl that’s always in the shop. Haley, I think.”
“Yep. Haley’s very sweet. I bring the dogs I walk by sometimes so she can pet them.”
“They seem like a cute family.”
“They are. They actually just had twins. They bring them around sometimes.”
“How long have you lived there?” He asked you.
“Ever since I loved to London five years ago.” You explained.
“Ah. So you’re not a native?” He smirked and folded his arms.
“Nope. But I’ve found my way around by walking all these dogs. I take it you are?”
“Southwest London.” He replied. “Born and raised.”
“That explains a lot.” You snorted.
“Oh yeah? What’s that supposed to mean, darling?” He said playfully and pretended to look offended.
“Don’t worry about it.” You teased back. You looked at each other for a moment and Tom felt his heart aching in his chest. He had it bad, and he wanted more.
“So I thought I’d join you on your walk today.” He said as he picked up Tessa’s leash.
“Didn’t you do that yesterday?” You chuckled.
“Yes.” He realized. “But I wanted to come again. In case you got lost.”
“If you’re available to walk her, how come you asked me to come over?” You questioned him with playful smile.
“I’m leaving for work in two days. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable with her before I left.” Tom quickly came up with something.
“I see.” You laughed. “Come on. Let’s not keep the lady waiting.”
You put Tessa’s collar on and walked out Tom’s front door with him right behind you. He showed you a different route he liked to take to make it seem like there was an actual reason for him to be on the dog walk other than him just wanting to spend time with you.
“So where are you traveling to?” You asked as Tessa pulled you along.
“Atlanta for some reshoots.”
“Ooo. Fancy.”
“Do you think you could look after Tessa while I’m away? It’ll only be for a week. Yeah could stay in my house if it’s easier.” Tom asked you.
“You trust me to stay in your house? We just met yesterday.” You reminded him with a surprised laugh.
“But you know my brother and you have a friendly face. So I don’t think you’ll rob me.” Tom said as he handed you an extra key to his house.
“What if I was planning on robbing you and you just gave me a key to your house and the exact time frame you’ll be away for?” You teased him as held up the key.
“I don’t think a robber would’ve brought me muffins.” He pointed out.
“Maybe not.” You laughed shyly and returned your attention to Tessa.
“So could you do it?”
“Sure. I can spend a week with this little princess in your huge mansion.”
“It’s not that big. But thank you. You’re the best. I’m so glad you almost ran over my brother.” Tom joked.
“Me too.” You laughed. You fell into a comfortable silence as you walked beside each other. Your hand accidentally brushed against Tom’s a few times, sending sparks through the both of you each time.
“Does all the traveling you have to do make it hard to do normal things?” You asked after a beat.
“I don’t know. Define normal things.”
“You know, like, date?” You said without looking at him.
“Believe it or not, that was hard for me before I was an actor.” Tom chuckled. “Having to travel a lot can’t really take all the responsibility for me not having a girlfriend. I was born with that problem.”
“Oh, okay. I honestly only asked that because I wanted to find out if you had a girlfriend but there’s no way to ask that question without it sounding like I was hitting on you.” You explained and still never looked up at him.
“Oh. So you weren’t hitting on me?” Tom pretended to be offended.
“Not in this particular moment, no. I was when I bit the same side of the muffin, though.” You replied. Tom stopped walking about he had thought the exact same thing. You stopped walking too and he realized he may be reading too far into things.
“That was a joke, right?” He asked you.
“Duh.” You laughed, making his hope crumble away.
“So if you’re not hitting on me, why’d you want to know if I have a girlfriend?” He asked as he started walking again.
“Because I can totally picture you forgetting to tell me you have a girlfriend and her coming over to find me in your house with your dog while you’re not there to explain that I’m just the dog sitter. And then she would break up with you because she thought you were cheating and you’d get framed as a dirty cheater in the media which doesn’t seem like an accurate character assessment at all and it would be all my fault.”
“Well I appreciate the concern for the possibility of that very specific scenario happening, but it’s impossible. No girlfriend will be walking in to find you.” Tom laughed at your genuine concern for a made up situation.
“Good.” You sighed. “And me saying “good” is me hitting on you, by the way.”
“I thought so.” He laughed at the joke but felt himself blush.
“I’m glad you caught that one because that’s about as subtle as I get.”
“You’re funny.” Tom laughed. “And pretty, as we’ve previously discussed. But that wasn’t a compliment because I know you don’t like that one. It was just an observation. And this was my long winded way of asking why you never thought about acting?“
“I don’t know. It just never appealed to me. I belong here. With my people.” You said and gestured to Tessa.
“You do belong.” He agreed. “I think she really likes you. She told me.”
“She better. I’m about to be her mommy of the week.” You said and bent down to pet her.
“I wish you were my mommy of the week.” Tom whispered as he watched you.
“What’d you say?” You asked as you stood up.
“Nothing.” He lied.
You circled the block and made it back to his house in under an hour, much to Tom’s dismay. But as he unlocked his front door, he realized your time together didn’t have to end.
“Do you want to come in?” Tom offered.
“Yeah. Sure.” You smiled shyly and followed him inside. He took Tessa’s leash off and she ran off, leaving you and Tom alone.
“I’ll put the kettle on. You can put on a movie, if you’d like.” He smiled softly at you as he went into the kitchen. You gulped and went into his living room and tried to look as normal as possible as you sat on his couch. He came into the living room with two mugs of tea and sat beside you. Your knees brushed and you both noticed but didn’t say a word about it. You pressed play on When Harry Met Sally, a movie that was safe enough to make him laugh but wouldn’t require you to sit through any uncomfortable sex scenes together. Tom smirked at your choice of movies and wondered if you were trying to send him a message.
“Are you cold?” He asked and held up a blanket. You nodded and he draped the blanket over the two of you. You took that at an opportunity to scoot a little closer to him so the blanket would fully cover the both of you. You exchanged a shy smile with each other before turning back to the movie. As the movie went on, you moved closer and closer to each other.
“Can I ask you something?” You asked him as one point. Tom gulped and kept his eyes on the screen so he didn’t look as excited to answer as he felt.
“Sure.”
“Do you do this with all your dog sitters?” You asked. Tom took a long sip of his tea before turning to you.
“Yes.” He said seriously. You laughed and nudged him a little as he set his tea back down.
“So since you asked me some personal questions, I need to know a few things about you.” He said and turned to you.
“Ask away.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?” He asked you.
“Really?” You laughed. “That’s your first question? You don’t want to know if I have a criminal record or anything?”
“I don’t care about that. It’s not as important.” Tom waved his hand, making you laugh again.
“No boyfriend.” You shrugged. “No criminal record either.”
“That’s good.” Tom nodded and turned back to the movie.
“Yeah. You should hope the person you have a key to your house to doesn’t have a criminal record.” You said teasingly.
“I meant the part about no boyfriend.” Tom replied without looking at you. Your jaw dropped a little but you said nothing and turned back to the movie as well. Tom snuck a glance at you and smiled to himself. You watched the rest of the movie and by the end of it, you were sitting right next to each other as you leaned into his side. He shut the TV once the movie ended just as you got a text.
“Shit. My shih tzu. I have to go walk my next client.” You sighed when you read the text.
“Oh. You have to go?” Tom asked with disappointment.
“Yeah.” You frowned. “I can’t be late. He’s a biter and very passive aggressive. The dog is kinda a bitch too.”
“How bitchy can a little dog be?” Tom chuckled and took the blanket off the two of you.
“You have no idea. You know when you’re on your period and you see a dog and it shoves its nose right into your snatch so everyone around you knows you’re on your period?”
“No.” Tom said after a long beat of silence.
“Oh, right.” You realized. “Well this dog points it out every month. Even though I’ve said nothing about the time I caught him eating a dirty tissue. And that freak knew it was used.”
“You’re right. He sounds like a bitch. I definitely don’t want to put you on his bad side. Here, I’ll walk you to the door.” Tom chuckled and got off the couch. He put his hand on your back and lead you to the door before opening it for you. You stepped outside but stood in the doorway to say goodbye to him.
“Goodnight.” Tom smiled softly as he leaned against his doorframe.
“It’s like 3 pm.” You said as you checked your phone.
“Oh, right. Good morrow, then? I don’t fucking know.”
“I like that. Good morrow, Tom.” You laughed. “Safe travels tomorrow, okay? Text me when you land.”
“I will.” He nodded. A comfortable silence settled between you as you stared into each others eyes. Tom took a chance and started to lean in, and you did the same. Before your lips could touch, Tom chickened out and stepped back.
“Well, bye!” Tom smiled and slammed the door in your face. He immediately cringed and covered his mouth with his hand. Tessa came into the room and sat and stared at Tom.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He groaned. “I can close. I just panicked, okay? She’s so pretty. What if she didn’t want to kiss me?”
Tessa laid down on the ground and rolled onto her side. Tom sighed and bent down to scratch her tummy.
“It doesn’t matter now. She’ll probably watch you this week and then get out of my life forever. There is no way I’m coming back from that.” Tom mumbled.
Two hours later, he came back from that. Your name came up on his phone and he immediately grabbed it to answer it. It was a tik tok video about a dog.
“Show this this to Tessa. It’s so her.” You had written. Tom smiled fondly at the text and let out a sigh.
“What can I say? She wants me.” He told Tessa smugly.
“She laughed. Thanks for sending it.” Tom texted you back.
“No prob. So what time should I come over tomorrow?”
“Is 10 good? I would like to see you before I leave.” He wrote back. His thumbs danced over the keyboard and he decided to add more so he didn’t sound so forward.
“To give you the run down on how the week will be.” He added. He stared at the text and decided to add even more.
“And to hit on you.”
You laughed when you read his text and decided to tease him further. You only hoped he’d get the reference.
“I’ll be there. Goodnight!!” You wrote back. He laughed at you making fun of him and felt better about not kissing you.
“It’s 5 pm.” He replied.
“I know. goodnight :)”
Tom smiled and held his phone to his chest. He liked the way things were going and couldn’t help but wish he wasn’t leaving for a week. He was getting somewhere with you and worried that leaving would stop the momentum.
“Good morning. I don’t have muffins.” You said as soon as Tom opened the door the next day.
“Good morning.” He laughed. “That’s okay. I made you some tea.”
“Oh, thanks.” You smiled shyly and accepted the mug. Tessa ran up to greet you and you knelt down to pet her.
“So she already ate and went out. She’ll probably want a walk around noon.” Tom told you.
“I can do that. I mean, I will do that. That’s my job.” You laughed nervously and glanced at the doorway. You couldn’t help but think of the missed kiss and found yourself feeling awkward around Tom.
“I should be home on Sunday morning. Think you’ll be all right here?” He asked and put a hand on your arm. You looked at his hand and let out a nervous laugh.
“Yeah. I think I’ll find your giant home very comfortable. Even if it’s ten times the size of my apartment.” You replied sarcastically to cover up how flustered you felt.
“Good. But if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. You’re never a bother.” Tom assured you.
“Thanks. I will.” You smiled in return. You heard a car horn outside and Tom smiled sadly. He bent down to pet Tessa and give her a kiss goodbye.
“That’s my ride. I guess I’ll leave you guys to it.” He said and picked up his bag.
“Goodbye, Tom. I’ll see you in a week?” You said as you walked him to the door. He turned to face you in the doorway and felt the moment coming back.
“Bye.” He smiled softly. You found yourselves leaning in again but before your lips could touch, the driver honked his horn again. You jumped apart and Tom gave you an apologetic smile.
“Next time?” He asked you.
“Next time.” You agreed before slamming the door in his face to get back at him for the day before.
In the week Tom was gone, you had an ongoing conversation over text. You FaceTimed him often to let him see Tessa whenever he had breaks. Then, he started FaceTiming you even when Tessa was asleep for the night. To Tom’s surprise, you grew closer with him away. Your conversations went from being about Tessa to getting to know each other and by Saturday night, he couldn’t wait to get home to see you. He took the earliest flight Sunday morning just to see you sooner. When he opened his front door, he was disappointed when neither you or Tessa came to greet him.
“Well? Isn’t my girl gonna give me a kiss?” Tom called out. You heard this and felt your heart skip a beat. If he was going to be bold, you decided you could be too. You ran into the foyer where he was just as he was dropping his bag to the floor. You made eye contact and before he knew what was happening, you threw your arms around him and kissed him. The surprised look on his face when you pulled away made you realize you had completely misinterpreted the situation.
“You meant the dog, didn’t you?” You said as your arms slowly slid away from his neck.
“Yeah, I did.” He admitted. You gulped and stepped away from him and prayed the floor would just swallow you up so you didn’t have to live in this moment. To your surprise, Tom slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you back towards him.
“But I mean…” He trailed off and leaned in to kiss you again.
I’m dedicating this one to my dog! I miss and love you forever my sweet boy. Give your pets some love for me ❤️
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hushedlover · 4 months
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Can i request a Mike Schmidt who actually got good sleep but his baby sitter/new found crush looks like she was hit by a train and he’s like “just sleep here” and his own thoughts come in with “take my bed.” (Which she tries to deny)
The sound of the front door closing and keys landing in the dish on the foyer table woke you up. You peeked your head over the back of the couch to look at Mike. He’s peeling the security vest off but for the first time ever he looks like he’s slept a full night.
“Hey. Abby still sleeping?” He calls over his shoulder.
“Yeah. Too early for her to be up,” you call back. Something in your voice sets off alarms for Mike. He glances back at you and sees you staring off into space, unfocused eyes blankly settled on the back of the couch. There are deep bags under your eyes and your hair is a hot mess, looking like you’d been tugging at it all night.
“You okay?” He calls tentatively. That gains your attention. Your eyes snap up and focus on his face. Immediately you send him an unconvincing smile as you stand from the couch. You begin gathering your things, keys and bag, while heading for your shoes.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m just- just tired. You seem well rested though,” the smile you shoot him this time is genuine, a softer version of your usual one. “I’m glad. You need the sleep.”
You drop your keys as you’re getting your shoes on, cursing and bending to grab them. Some part of the action through you off balance, and the next thing you know your butt is firmly planted on the hard wood floor. A dull pulsing pain emanates from the point of contact with the surface and you drown, looking down at the floor accusingly.
“Okay, come here,” Mike grunts as he slides his hands under your armpits. With a quiet groan from both of you, he hoists you to your feet. You stumble and regain your balance before looking up at Mike.
“Thanks,” you mutter as heat floods your cheeks.
“No problem,” he says, his brows furrowed slightly. You go to reach for your keys that are seated in his hand, but Mike pulls them back. “Listen, you’re exhausted. I don’t really want you driving home right now. Why don’t you sleep here?”
More heat rises in your face and you shift on your feet nervously. His face is close, almost too close to yours, his brown eyes demanding your focus and attention. His light scruff is distracting, so are his lips, and you almost get lost in them before remembering to respond.
“Oh no, Mike. I’m fine, really. I wouldn’t want to intrude, plus I’m sure Abby will want to watch TV and I don’t want to take over your couch,” You stutter and trip over your words as you try to rush them out.
“What do you-? Oh! No, no I meant like,” you swear you can see red tint his cheeks as his eyes dart away from yours for a second. “I meant sleep in my bed.”
Both of you go silent and stare at each other with wide eyes for a second. You distantly wonder if he can hear your heart pounding in your chest. Or maybe see your pulse jumping in your neck. Suddenly, Mike snaps out of the stupor.
“Not like that! I mean- No, I um, I mean I’m not gonna be using it since I’ll be up and I just washed my sheets and stuff so-“
You choose to save him from his own suffering.
“I would actually really appreciate that.” Just on cue, you yawn softly. “I think I’d be a hazard on the road and I don’t want that to be on your conscious.”
You send him a sheepish smile, hoping he detects the humor in your tone. He must, because his face lights up in a grin. You squeak in surprise when Mike suddenly squats in front of you, gently grabbing your foot and slipping off the one shoe you managed to get on. He stands and helps you shrug off your jacket.
You distantly register the sound of your keys crashing into the tray as Mike leads you down the hall and towards his room. His hand on your elbow is a warm comfort as he guides you to sit on the mattress. He tugs the blanket loose and gently pushes you down. You blink up at him sleepily as he pulls the blanket up to your chin.
“Stay as long as you need. Really. You do so much for us. Just… rest. Yeah?” He smiles down at you and right now you could swear he’s an angel. You feel your lips quirk up out of reflex and your hand reaches up, but you stop yourself before you can brush his cheek.
“Thanks,” you whisper softly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open now. The pillows, the sheets, the blanket, everything smells like Mike and it’s making you delirious. It’s a weird comfort, like Mike is actually holding you in his arms. The smell gets stronger and you want to open your heavy eyes to see why, but the feel of slightly chapped lips against your forehead tells you why.
That’s the last thing you register before sleep drags you into its clutches.
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reareaotaku · 3 months
Text
No Fun Babysitting
Summary: Greg's mother gets him and Manny a babysitter, because Rodrick is 'too busy' with Band practice, and she wants a reliable sitter while her and Frank go out. Though, Rodrick's plans change when he finds out who the babysitter is. Pairings: Rodrick x Fem! Reader [Since my Rodrick posts always tend to do well, here's another you Rodrick lovers!] God this probably so dumb lol. So sorry if it's bad lol
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"A babysitter?" Greg looked at his mother like she was crazy. He was 13, he didn't need a babysitter! Maybe Manny, but certainly not him. "Why do I need a babysitter?"
His mother, Susan, finishes drying off a plate, before turning towards him, "Well, Rodrick," She gestures to Rodrick who was sitting at the dining room table eating a bowl of cereal, "has a gig and I need someone reliable to watch you and Manny while me and your father are out."
"Doesn't Gramma usually watch Manny?" Rodrick asked, since they had never offered to pay HIM to watch the kids.
"She's busy."
"Why can't I watch Manny?"
Susan laughs, causing Greg to frown and roll his eyes.
"Oh, Greg. You have not shown me you are responsible enough to care for a goldfish, much less your little brother. Besides, she's supposed to be really good, her name is Y/n."
Rodrick almost spit out his food when he heard the name of Y/n and he was very quick to clarify, "Y/n? Like Y/n L/n, Y/n?"
Susan hums, before rubbing her chin and nodding, "Yes I believe so."
"She's going to be here?"
"Why do you care?" Greg quick asked, suspicious.
"I don't," Rodrick quickly justifies, trying to cover up his previous excitement. He quickly gets up and heads to his room, completely forgetting about the food.
Susan and Greg watched as he left, while the latter grew suspicious.
---
"Thank you so much for coming at such late notice," Susan hands you Manny, who wiggled in her grasp.
"It's really no problem, Mrs. Heffley. I hope you and your husband have a good night out."
"Me, too," She jokes, before shaking her head, "Our numbers are on the fridge and if we don't answer, there's the number of the restaurant...."
You nod your head, listening as she goes on and on about safety and such. When she finally left, you waved her off before carrying Manny into the living room. "So, what do you like to do, Manny?"
Before he could answer, Rodrick quickly rushes in, his guitar hanging off his back. He was covered in sweat and his hair was dismayed/a mess. He pushes his hand through his hair, before looking at you in feigned confusion.
"Oh, Y/n right? I didn't know you were going to be here."
"What are you talking about? Mom sai-"
Rodrick quickly got his shoe and threw it at Greg, hitting him smack in the face. He [Rodrick] pushes inbetween you and Manny, leaning on his hand, "Hey."
"Hi?" You looked past him, towards Manny, who was pushing on Rodrick's back.
"What.. uh, brings you around?"
"Um... What do you mean?"
He turns to face forward , leaning back on his hands, "Uh, you know, ummm...." He clicks his tongue, before looking back at you, "You like music, right?"
"Everyone likes music."
"Right!" He stands up pointing to you, Manny finally looking relieved that Rodrick had moved from his spot.
Manny gets down from the seat and pulls out a puzzle from under the table. You watch him closely as Rodrick still continues to talk.
"I'm in a band, you should come listen."
"Uhuh... Band?" You now looked at him when registering his words.
"Oh, yeah. We're called the Loaded Diaper [Löded Diper]."
"Loaded Diaper?"
"Yeah."
"When you hear them, you'll understand the name," Greg jokes, before hiding under the table when seeing Rodrick's glare.
You look at Greg, before humming and nodding, "I see. Ummm... What kind of music do you guys play?"
"Rock."
"Oh, yeah, that makes sense... Um... Maybe I can come some time."
"Yeah, you should. Just let me know when you're free."
"Yeah, will do."
He walks away from the living room and out the front door, but not before fist bumping, thrilled to have a 'date' kind of.
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baestruly · 18 days
Text
i'll be there
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( ⋫ 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖎 )  spencer reid x reader
⤷ IN WHICH, you're stressed with work, but spencer is there to help you
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - hurt x comfort, fluff
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The caress of sweet, warm sunlight might have been a balm on your skin, had it not been for the relentless pressure trapped within your head ━━ a tumultuous symphony of pounding echoes and silent screams.
The evening sun lashed out like a fiery whip, scorching your vision as you massaged wearied eyes, only to stir the relentless ache burrowing deeper within your head.
It wasn’t just the sunlight causing you to be in distress, it was the amount of paperwork you still had to get done. Even though you’ve been trying to multitask all week, you had to do it on the plane while also managing to find leads or behaviours on the criminals while also having to run home to your apartment because you received a text from your dog sitter ━━ who you pay probably too much, to look after your new dog saying he had ripped the whole place apart. Your needs, blankets, almost all of your pillows and of course, the couch!
Your therapist had recommended you get a job because of the stress you have been under for your new job. Yeah, new. Maybe that’s why you seemed like the odd one out because everyone was so much more experienced than you were. Of course, they had to start somewhere, but you felt like a rookie beside them, especially the smartest one, Spencer Reid, only having been on the force for around a month. 
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, the voices were getting to be too much. 
You’re a failure, you’ll never be as good as them! Get your head straight, you’re not thinking like a profiler, there's so much going on! It goes on and on and on━━
“Y/N?” 
Someone's voice snaps you from your thoughts, all of them shattering like glass as they scrape your skull. It bled, just like the blood on the floor of that poor girl━━
“Y/N? Hey━━hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?” His voice was tinged with a palpable mixture of concern and fear, the words tumbling from him like a cascade of worry. He was closer now, having his shaky but reassuring hand on your arm. You weren’t able to feel the warmth because of the thick knitted sweater you wore for the colder months of November.
His eyes spiralled, reading every inch of expression on your face. By now, he could’ve figured it out and profiled you on his own━━hell, it wouldn’t even take a profiler to tell how stressed out you were, goddammit. But, he waited patiently, letting you know he was here despite his efforts to stay calm to keep you calm.
It wasn’t working.
 Spencer has always been the hesitant and shy type. Not when it came to his interests━━which were mostly about anything, really━━or profiling, but when it came to feelings, emotion or conversations, the poor guy was clueless.
Deep down you knew he had a good heart. You don’t think you’ve admired someone this much before, especially a friend.
You tried to stare into his eyes, but the voices in your head started again. This time, it wasn’t about the dog or your cold case, or even the bloody walls of the family home you’d visited on Wednesday.
You suddenly realized how terrified you were of dumping this on Spencer. The stress of this moment was too much, he was waiting for an answer and you couldn’t just stand there! Like that statue━━no, you couldn’t do that, not now.
“I━━I’m fine, Spencer.” You sprung from your seat, quickly pacing and turning your back to him as you picked up a few files from where you had been frantically working at your desk, giving yourself something to focus on other than the voices in your head and walls that were starting to crumble behind your eyes.
Like the crumpling statue on the ground.
You clenched your teeth. You needed to focus to get your shit done and get home in time to be able to sleep and eat! You haven't eaten anything all day?! Holy shit━━
Spencer stood in confusion and worry. His mind started scrambling thinking of ways to go about the situation. You’d think when it came to profiling he’d know exactly what to do or say that may help you or set you off, but when it came to you, the closest friend he’s ever made in less than a month, he was clueless, he didn’t want to make things worse.
Profiling was different, he didn’t know those people. 
He knew you.
And he guesses that his greatest fear at that moment was seeing you in distress, and not knowing what to do that would make it better. 
The girl's body lay limp in the bedroom. The throat detached like the grey, morbid statue, symbolizing nothing like the bloody corpse of who was once a bright happy girl, the soul ripped away from her.
You continued to pace around the room, grabbing your hair and clearing your throat. 
“Is there━━um, anything you want me to do? I’ll do it, Y/N just are—are you okay? Talk to me.”
You stopped, finally facing him, and that’s when Spencer could finally see your face.
But your eyes were red, like you had been crying before and bags were deeply engraved under your eyes as your hair became messier each time you ran your shaky hand through it. 
His heart broke a little. 
“I j━━just, okay━━I have a dog, the sitters have been calling me all week!” You shouted in frustration. Spencer blinked, startled, but he listened, brows furrowing. “Now she’s not there━━and I can’t even use my bed let alone the━━the couch and━━this case has gone cold, now we have another one and there’s just so many dead ends━━“ You stopped.
Silence.
“I just need everything to stop.” That’s it, the walls be damned because you couldn’t fucking hold it anymore no matter how hard you fought. And you think it’s safe to say you’ve fought hard enough this week. “I need to just shut my mind off.”
Your voice cracked as your breaths heaved in and out of your chest, somewhat relieved to get it all out. Now that your thoughts become your words, it only makes them more real.
You couldn’t breathe at all, every inhale you took as you doubled over in panic and distress didn’t fill your lungs, which only made your eyes widen with fear as your heart thundered in your ears. 
“Crap━━(Y/N), breathe with me alright? Okay, just one breath in━━" Spencer ran to your side, leading you to the sofa as he kneeled in front of you so his face was in your view. “Breathe out, nice and slow, you got it.” 
Your breath shook viscously with each inhale you took, but Spencer didn’t mind, nor did he seem to care about how crazy you thought you looked right now. Instead, he nodded at you with encouraging eyes when you opened yours, trying to find balance in his presence while he slowly and gently rubbed his thumb on the side of your cold hands.
“I’m good, I’m good.” You choke out with one last exhale now that your breathing seems to go back to normal. You were still out of breath as the lump in your throat remained.
“Hey, I know, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” He says softly but reassuringly, eyes glistening with concern and admiration for your efforts. Your bold personality always interested him, that’s why he’d been so shocked to see you in a state like this. Although you were bold, you seemed to close yourself off when it came to emotions. “Now, you’re fine with this today, alright?”
“No, I n━━“
He shushed you gently. “I know, Emily’s got it for you for the rest of the night. You need rest.”
You weren’t sure what was happening, but you followed Spencer to his car before feeling a sense of relief to be away from the office for a moment as the cold air from outside turned warmer with every second you sat in the seat with him. It was oddly comforting, and you breathed deeply, finding it easier to control it now. 
But of course, it all hit you.
“God━━Spence, I am so so sorry, shit━━"
“No! No, it’s okay, believe me when I say this, you have nothing to be sorry for.” He blinked a few times before scrunching his nose. “90 percent of people struggling do not speak up because, well, they’re scared of judgement, the other half of it being embarrassment when really, we have nothing to be embarrassed of. Everyone feels, you know. It’s basically impossible for all of us bring in our positions in this job to not be affected by the tragedies we see.”
“Wow, Spencer Reid, as a genius profiler I would’ve expected you to know not everyone feels.” She let out a breathy laugh, the skin under your eyes feeling dry from your tears. 
Spencer felt better that you were trying to lighten the mood. He smiled softly looking down at his hands as he nodded. “You know what I mean!” 
“Yes, Reid, I do.” You smiled back. “So, where are we going?”
“When you’re stressed out it’s better to do things that keep your mind away from it.” He starts. You knew that too. “Doing something peaceful is another effective way.”
“Sounds perfect.” You sighed a sigh of relief, leaning your head back slightly so it touched the seat. You felt reassured knowing Reid was here with you and was willing to help. Maybe all you needed was an extra hand, instead of putting more problems on yourself.
“Reid?” You say, hesitantly turning to look at him. You could feel the admiration luring out of them. “Thank you.”
He smiled, eyes thoughtful. “Of course. I want to help you.”
Although you remained seated, you encircled him in an awkward yet secure embrace, needing to convey just how grateful you were for his presence in that moment and in your life.
“Your heart━━it’s beating really fast.” You say softly once you pull away from his warm embrace. “You sufre you’re not stressed about anything right now?” 
“Well━━there, uh, maybe one thing.” He stuttered, as his nervous but warm hands cupped your face, his thumb glinting across your skin much like the time back at the BAU when he held your hand during your panic attack. 
“Wouldn’t take a profiler to figure it out.” You whispered, your lips softly pressing against his, delicate and soft. He kissed you as if you were fragile and his hand was the only thing keeping you together as his lips moved against yours. His hand moved into your hair, caressing your head hoping his kisses could make all your pain go away.
You could sense his smile against yours, lips stretching into a thin line of joy, as your laughter tangled messily with his. Admiration was pumping through your veins, but nothing compared to the love pumping in your rapidly beating heart, all your stress being replaced with warmth and admiration.
If Spencer became the air that filled your lungs, the very breath of your existence, you'd no longer need to learn how to breathe.
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a/n: that was my first time writing for spencer so pls be nice!!
i haven't wrote in a while but i'm happy to be back! please request anything for spencer in my request box
spencer reid masterlist           masterlist
also request anything! 
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footygirl114 · 4 months
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Escolta (Alexia Putellas X Reader)
Surprise! I bring you the first part of a new series as a birthday present! So happy birthday, and I hope y'all enjoy! 🧡💜
The shrill ringing of your phone awoke you from the light sleep you were in, opening your eyes the bright sun on the beach in Bali you were currently laid out on almost blinded you. Reaching over to the table beside you, you snatched the ringing phone sparing it a quick glance as you answer the call with a “Hi boss.” 
“Y/N! How’s the time off?” she asks down the phone. 
You look around the secluded beach you have been relaxing on as you answer with “Peaceful.” 
Michelle, your boss, chuckles down the line as she says “I didn’t know that you could relax Y/N.” 
“I never said I was relaxed, but it is peaceful” You answer her back. 
“Secluded?” she asks you. 
You chuckle and tell her “I haven’t seen a soul since my grocery delivery 3 days ago.” 
Michelle laughs down the line and says “Well I hate to burst your bubble but your vacation is over, I have a job for you.”
For the last 11 days you had been on a secluded beach in Bali, trying to relax but also just enjoying the peace and quiet. It had been a long month working security for a group of British Diplomats who were traveling around the middle east working on peace deals. The few days of peace were needed after being consistently working for a month. 
“Where am I off to this time?” you asked Michelle, as you finally sat up on the lounger you had been laying in. Your mind immediately working overtime thinking about what you needed to do in order to get back to reality. 
“Actually, it’s a different assignment than you are used to but you are the only one I can trust with this one.” Michelle starts and when you do not interrupt she continues “I need you in Barcelona.” 
“Barcelona? for what?” you immediately ask, your mind buzzing wondering if you missed some major news story. 
Michelle chuckles as she says “It’s still a protection detail, but a more sensitive and less invasive one.” 
She has you confused and you stand and start to gather your bag to walk back to your cabin as you tell her “Michelle, just tell me, you know I hate it when you are evasive.” 
Michelle lets out a laugh as she says “Alexia Putellas.” 
“Who?” you ask, continuing the walk to your cabin to start packing. 
“She’s the most recent Ballon D’Or winner, the best woman’s player in the world, and she’s been gaining popularity and there is a some concerns for her safety when she’s attending events.” Michelle explains. 
“What do they need me for? I know they’d have security at these events?” you ask, finally reaching your cabin and immediately starting up your computer. 
“There has been some weird comments online, some fan mail sent in, and they want to make sure there is extra security without all the fuss of a full team.” she tells you. 
You groan as you realise you will basically be a baby sitter for this one “You need a babysitter.”
“Y/N, this could be massive for us, if we can do well here this can expand our clientele and we can finally start to get into the sports world. So yes, I need my best employee to provide the best low-key protection possible to the best football player in the world.” she says. 
“Flattery will get you everywhere Michelle. Send me the details and I will handle it” You tell her with a chuckle. 
“thank you” she chuckles and you finish off the conversation with pleasantries, as you turn on your computer to get your self back to reality. 
**
A week later you are parking the rental car outside of a nice looking apartment building right on the water in Barcelona, ready to head in and meet your new client. You had spent the last week visiting your shoebox of an apartment in London, that was pretty much used to store your stuff and be a landing pad between jobs. 
Having read up on the client and the job, you knew you would be staying in an apartment the client’s manager organised for you in the building. You also spent much longer than you cared to admit googling Alexia Putellas. Something about her captivated you and now that you are about to meet her you feel a bit creepy that you know so many things about her. 
Deciding to leave your bags in the trunk you walk into the apartment lobby, you were told that you were meeting Jose, the players manager, and that there was a seperate elevator to the penthouse apartment which was owned by Alexia. You walked in and looked around and noticed there was no doorman or security in the lobby, mentally noting that in your head you walked to the reception desk. 
“Hola, how can I help you?” the gentleman behind the desk asked you with a smile. 
Smiling back you notice his name tag and respond “Hola Miguel, I am here to see Jose.” 
Miguel nods and says “Perfect, it’s the elevator on the far right, I will swipe you up.” 
You stare at him for a second and respond with a “Gracias” and move toward the elevator, you hear his steps follow you and you watch as he pulls a card from his pocket and swipes it above the call button. 
When the elevator arrives, he allows you to board and leans in and swipes his card again on the inside as he presses the button for the penthouse. He smiles and steps back saying “It’ll go right to the penthouse, and I will let Jose know you are on the way up.” 
The doors close before you can respond, you spend the ride up and thinking over that whole interaction and how this job is going to be a lot harder than you expected if this is your first interaction. When you get up to the top and the doors open, you almost expect to have no one there but you are pleasantly surprised when you are met at the top by Jose. 
“Y/N? Nice to meet you I am Jose” he immediately starts with when the doors open and he holds out his hand to you. 
Shaking his hand you reply “It’s nice to finally meet you too.” 
Before you finish speaking he turns and starts walking and says “Come with me, I do not have much time before my next meeting but I will get you set up.” 
You move to follow and look around as you walk and notice a very formal living room and dining room you pass by, and then you pass through a doorway into a large open concept kitchen and family room. On the far side there is a hallway and you assume that there is at least one bedroom down it. 
When Jose moves to the kitchen island he grabs and turns to hand to you a set of keys and a key card like the one use to get into the elevator. “The keys are for your apartment, 2 floors down, and the card is for you to get into the elevator here and up to the penthouse, it's a private elevator directly to Alexia’s unit.” 
You continue to watch as he hands you a packet and continues with “you will find passes to the field, it will get you everywhere but into the change room. You will also find the schedule for the next few weeks of games and events we have already to committed too. This will change and things will be added but thats a rough outline. When Alexia is in her apartment we won’t be needing you, but anytime she leaves we expect you to follow.” 
At this point you have taken everything he has handed to you and you follow along looking at everything, when he stops talking you look up and see him looking at something over your shoulder. You turn sightly and lock eyes with Alexia Putellas, immediately the first thought in your head is holy shit the pictures do not do her justice.
“Jose, is this my new babysitter?” she asks with a chuckle as she walks closer to you, you also notice she came from down the hallway you think was bedrooms. 
Chuckling Jose responds with “Y/N meet Alexia, Alexia met Y/N the new security agent I have hired for you.” 
You reach out your hand to her and say “Nice to meet you ma’am” 
She reaches out and grabs your hand with a smile and says “please do not call me ma’am. Alexia is fine.” 
“Noted ma’am” when she gives you the eye you correct “I mean Miss. Putellas.” 
Jose chuckles and interrupts the staring contest by saying “I need to run, but I think you should be good from here.” 
“I’ll walk you out” Alexia chimes in and follows him to the front door. 
You stand there watching wondering if you should be doing something, and you decide to look at the schedule you were given. A few moments later you know she has walked back in, you were a highly trained operative after all, but you refused to look up.
You listen as she walks over to the other side of the kitchen island you are standing at and she says “So I think we need to set some things straight.” 
You look up giving her your full attention and ask “what do you mean?.” It was a mistake meeting her eyes cause now you are lost looking into them, and you have to dig your nails into your palm to keep your self focused. It was a trick you had learned in your many years in the military to keep your mind present and not wonder on patrols. 
“I didn’t want you. I don’t need extra security. This was all Jose’s idea and I really don’t think I need someone following me around.” she says as she crosses her arms over her chest watching for your reaction. 
What she says doesn’t take you by surprise, its not the first time a client has said this to you and you know it won’t be the last. “You may not think you need it, but I have seen the videos and clips, and seen the messages you have gotten. You may not think you need it right now, but the whole point of hiring me is that I am going to work my ass off to make sure nothing happens and you continue to remain safe.” 
She stands there for a moment staring at you and you feel like your being judged hard. When she finally shrugs and says “Fine, but I do not like this, and I need to make sure you understand that football is my life and I will not let anything get in the way of it.” 
You feel like she is talking about more than just a protection detail but you can’t even entertain that right now. “Listen Miss Putellas, I got in to your apartment no questions asked by saying I was here to see Jose. Anyone could have done that, and that is not okay when you have no warning of someone coming into your apartment.” 
“What?” she asks and moves around the island to your side. 
“No one even asked who I was or why I was here, they just scanned me into your elevator. People are crazy and anyone could have found out where you live and come into your apartment. I will not let that happen, and the first thing I am going to do is make sure you are safe and comfortable in your own apartment.” When you finish you realise you may have gone on a bit of rant and immediately feel the blush rush to your cheeks. 
She moves closer to you and says “You really are here to just keep me safe?” you nod and she continues “and you won’t get in my way?” She asks looking right into your eyes. 
Nodding you answer “I understand passion, and I know what it feels like to have the drive you do, I will not get in your way. If anything I want to take this off your plate and make you feel confident in anything you are doing.” 
The ringing of her phone causes her to jump back, and you notice how close you were to closing the space between the two of you. While she distracts her self by the phone, you move to gather yourself and your paperwork and you move toward the door. 
“You will need to go to the lobby and get on the other elevator, but your apartment is 1212. I won’t be going anywhere tonight but I leave at 8am to go to training.” She says as she covers the mouth piece on the phone. 
“I will see you in the morning.” you tell her and keep your self from looking at her by pressing the button on the elevator. When it arrives you move to get on it and you can’t help your self but look up and meet her eyes. She smiles and winks at you just as the door closes and you know you need to keep this professional, but you are going to be in big trouble while you try. 
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klausysworld · 4 months
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Cg klaus x little babyspace reader where she is like 1 and pretty non verbal and Klaus is Busy so he get a babysitter bc his siblings are busy too but she get abused by the sitter and is now scared of something she loved like her crib and after that elijah babysit her and when he wants to put her in her crib she start crying and sobbing out something like "n-n-n-no-no 'Ib" and holds for her dear life on him. After he put her in klaus bed and Klaus was back again he told him about it.
How would he and his siblings react to it 💖
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(Abuse mention, please don’t read if you may find this triggering and know you are not alone)
Too Perfect To Be Sorry
Y/n had never been able to keep her she regression a secret. She couldn’t help when she slipped into it and she never knew how young she could get. More often than not she was unable to do anything for herself, sometimes barely able to sit up or lift her bed so there was no chance of pretending it didn’t happen. If she felt safe, she’d slip. If she was scared, she’d slip. If she was upset, she’d slip. Almost every emotion was a trigger.
Thankfully for her, the Mikaelsons had been around for centuries and had first hand discovered most things, age regression being something they already knew of and had been apart of within a relationship.
Klaus in particular took interest in the dynamic. He enjoyed having full control over someone, and their willingness for it was what made it so much better. Knowing that someone felt so safe in his hold that they would let him care for them completely. It was a level of trust that he hadn’t been able to find anywhere else.
The hybrid had been with multiple littles over time, but often found that he moved around too much to actually keep them happy so began to pull away and succumb to your standard one-night stands instead.
However when he got to New Orleans, the place he had always loved most, he found that he wanted to stay again. Additionally, his siblings were all with him and he was in a joint rulership with Marcel, his son-like figure and favourite of hundreds and thousands of vampires he’d turned.
So when he came across a girl who was very clearly slipping into her little mindset, he was keen to sweep her away from any eyes and take her somewhere safe. Well…his home so somewhat safe depending on the day.
Y/n was barely conscious for the encounter and came out of her little space hours later.
She woke up from her nap to find that she was curled up on a man’s chest, in a bed she did not know, in clothes that weren’t hers but with a Disney film on that she definitely did know.
She looked around slowly, frightened as she carefully peeled herself off of the man. His eyes were closed and chest moving with ear deep breath so she knew he was asleep. She crawled to the edge of the bed and dropped down only to land on a pile of pillows making her smile and pull herself up onto her feet which were covered by the footsie pyjamas she was in. She could feel the confusion creep through her as she felt the babygrow, it was soft like a teddy and covered every inch of her body except her hands and face.
A gentle stirr sounded from Klaus making her startle and scurry toward the door, her steps making near to no sound against the soft carpet. Despite her lack of noise, as soon as she opened the door, arms were lifting her up. Without hesitation Y/n let out an ear piercing scream and her legs began to swing, her hands shoving at his forearms desperately.
Klaus’s eyes went wide and he quickly got her back to his bed, putting her down and reaching for the pacifier he had gotten. “Easy love, come here” he beckoned, holding out the object like one would hold a treat to tempt a dog. But Y/n wasn’t an animal and didn’t take his bait but instead scrambled with all her energy to get away from the stranger, resulting in a very serious game of hide and seek tag.
Klaus didn’t want to use his vampire abilities and terrify the girl and so chased after her at a more acceptable pace. Eventually she ran tied and he caught her in his hold but instead of harming her like she feared, his fingers attacked her with tickles. Her body lurched and curled as she giggled and squirmed against his hands.
Finally, when she began to scream that she would pee herself if he didn’t stoppit, he gave in and put an end to his torture. Once she calmed down and rest her head against the ground, she glanced up at him. Klaus was already looking back at her, ready for her to try and escape him again but she didn’t.
Instead she just stared and curled up though her body was much less tense now and she didn’t seem so stressed nor afraid. He smiled gently and rubbed her arm soothingly.
He stayed on the floor with her for a while, just petting her while she took him in. Only when the sound of a door slamming did he pick her back up but she didn’t bother struggling. He brought her back to bed and sat her down. “Stay here for me little one, I won’t be a minute” he whispered with a kiss to her temple.
Y/n watched as he left and was left with her thoughts once again.
Confusion was the most obvious feeling inside her but she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt when his hands stroked her soothingly and his scent filled her nose. And so she waited for him to come back.
When he did he was a little grumpy so when he sat back down with a sigh, she hesitantly crawled back over to him. He smiled at the gesture and pulled her into his lap, his arm wrapping around her body and his chin resting on top her head.
“Such a sweet girl, even when you’re not in little space” he murmured and she smiled shyly.
“I’m sorry” she whispered but he shook his head
“You’re too perfect to be sorry” he stated and she giggled. “I’m very serious little one, you mustn’t ever apologise for being so lovely. You’re a pretty little baby, you know that?” He muttered, encouraging a nod out of her. “That’s right my love” he smiled.
Y/n let herself relax against him and she took comfort in his hold.
And from that day, she spent more and more time at his house. Whether it was because she kept coming back or because Klaus never wanted her to leave was unclear.
Either way it was why Klaus ended up needing a baby sitter sometimes.
After finding that she was little almost always, which of course he adored, however when something overly important was happening that involved both himself and his siblings, he couldn’t risk leaving her completely alone in the abattoir.
To begin with the woman who came to look after her seemed nice. She was polite to the Mikaelsons and smiley. Apparently she only did that for the money.
As soon as they were all out, she was taking the piss. She’d raid their cupboards and snoop around. Y/n was left to care for herself while the ‘sitter’ did just that. She lounged around and made a mess only blame it on Y/n when Klaus came home. Klaus would just sigh and pick his girl up, her features would show distress so he would tell her he didn’t mind the mess and kiss her better. The sitter took advantage of this.
She could do whatever she wanted and just blame Y/n. Klaus wouldn’t ever hurt the little girl so it didn’t matter and Y/n wouldn’t dare tell the truth, not after she was threatened.
“You think he’s going to believe a freak like you?” She spat, giving Y/n a dirty look “you fucking dare tell him a thing and I’ll make sure that entire family hates you”
“They wouldn’t-“
“Not even if you were violent? Say you bit me? Or what if you weren’t pretty hm? What if I shred your hair and burn your face? You think that Klaus will want to look at that?” She laughed and Y/n’s eyes welled with tears.
The baby sitter would tell Y/n every time that she didn’t deserve someone like Klaus, that men like him didn’t really want girls like her and that the real reason he hired a sitter was so that he could go fuck real women and get away from her clingy self.
It made Y/n pull away from Klaus. She would hide in her crib that he deigned and pretend she was too little to sleep in bed with him. Often she would actually slip into her little space when she was in her crib, she would snuggle her teddies and eventually drift off.
But she wasn’t ever relaxed enough to go as young as she truly needed to be. Not when she was anxious that Klaus didn’t like when she behaved like that: “incompetent and pathetic” the sitter described it so Y/n tried to not go any younger than a toddler as of late. And when the sitter was actually there was even worse. She tried so hard to stay in big space but sometimes the stress and discomfort caused from the woman would cause Y/n to accidentally fall into her little mind.
That was when everything got worse.
The babysitter would treat her like an animal, installing more fear which only made her cling onto her little side to try and block out what was happening. But again this made things worsen. It was a viscous cycle.
The sitter had dragged Y/n by the wrist, ankle, hair or whatever else to get her out the way.
On the occasions the mikaelsons had the sitter stay over night, she would throw a party and force Y/n into her crib and put something big and heavy over the top so she couldn’t get out. Like a caged animal.
Y/n would scream and cry for hours, the sitters friends would laugh and poke fun at her until eventually she passed out from exhaustion.
But again she wouldn’t tell Klaus, she didn’t know how and she didn’t want to bother him. She knew of the sorts of things he dealt with and she didn’t think this would compare to life and death situations.
However that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try and ask for someone else to watch her if they could. Which was why Elijah was looking after her today.
He was more than happy to watch her, especially when Klaus spoke to him and was concerned with her recent behaviour.
“She’s been acting odd, she won’t sleep in her crib but she doesn’t want to touch me, she won’t drink from her bottle but can’t hold her glass stable enough. She won’t snuggle her teddies but won’t let go of a pillow instead and she won’t…she won’t call me Daddy. In fact she tries not to address me at all.” He whispered to his brother, his expression showing clear upset and confusion.
“I’ll look after her Niklaus, perhaps I can see if she’ll say anything to me? She might’ve done something bad and think you’ll be upset?” He questioned but Klaus shook his head
“She knows i wouldn’t ever hurt her, punish her maybe but it doesn’t hurt her. Somethings wrong, she won’t talk to me…she might trust you” he muttered, his voice broken at the thought of his girl trusting his brother more than him but he gave in and asked for help.
Elijah nodded and they spoke a small while more before Klaus went off out and Elijah went up to find Y/n.
She was dressed in some of Rebekah’s clothes though it was clear that she wasn’t comfortable in them and she kept her eyes on the floor even when he addressed her.
With a small sigh he came over to where she sat on the bed and squatted down infront of her. “Y/n?” He repeated softly, locking his eyes on hers “are you alright my dear?” He asked and she nodded silently. He gently cupped her hand in his and caressed the back of it “how about you put something a little comfier on today? We aren’t going anywhere this morning, it’s better to be warm and snuggly” he offered, going over to the drawers and pulling out some joggers and a pretty top that read ‘I 🩷 my Daddy’.
Y/n quietly did as she was asked and let him help her get changed, he frowned when he saw her wearing such an uncomfortable bra. She rarely wore a proper bra, it irritated her when she got little and they all knew it from times she would be out in public and would whimper to Klaus about it. It was why he bought her so many soft, wireless ones. But now she was subjecting herself to it when she was in her own home?
Elijah gently moved his hand round to unclip it, Y/n knew Elijah was safe and wouldn’t dare ever look or touch her in any way that she found uncomfortable so she didn’t react much though she couldn’t deny the little moan of relief when the item was removed and her top was slid on.
Shyly she look up at him, seeing him fold the other clothes and put them aside before turning back to her and lifting her up. He pulled her against his chest, ignoring how she tried to get down. He took her downstairs to the kitchen and got out her baby bottle, filling it with chocolate milk and sliding it towards her but she only stared at it.
He frowned and came back over to her. “Y/n, darling, what’s wrong?” He whispered, concern painting his face. “You aren’t yourself little one” he murmured, in response she only glances at him, her eyes showing an element of hurt.
Eventually he managed to get her to suck on the bottle and after many hours, he finally got her to slip fully. Which was how he ended up with her babbling in his arms as he made his way upstairs and to her and Klaus’s bedroom. “Such a good girl” he smiled as he went over to her once adored crib.
Just as he laid her down in it, a switch seemed to flick. Her eyes suddenly went wide and her breaking shattered. A cry left her lips and she clambered back up his body hysterically. Elijah let out a sound of surprise as she clung to him, shaking her head and sobbing. She begged him not to put her there, her poor body shook and she began to cry for her Daddy.
Elijah held her tight, quickly calling Klaus who hurried home but despite Y/n wanting him, she still wouldn’t go to him. Her mind told her she was embarrassing for him.
Klaus grew more distressed as he tried to make her look at him, to have her attention and provide her comfort.
It took far too long for her to get into his lap, still sobbing her apologies repeatedly.
“Baby girl” he whispered, his tone so gentle it broke her heart “you’re too perfect to be sorry” he uttered, a reminder of the first time she was with him. He rocked her soothingly, his hands all over as he tried his very best.
Slowly, her tears came to a stop and she settled against him. He kept her wrapped in his hold for a while before coaxing some words out of her.
With much effort he was able to figure out it was something to do with the baby sitter, he promised that nobody bar himself and his family would ever look after her again.
When she fell asleep in his arms, her face stained from crying and her clothes ruined from how much she had sweat from the panic, he cleaned her up and got her changed back into the same snuggly onesie as the first night she spent with him.
He didn’t put her down but instead carried her around, even when he went to his siblings and told them that he needed them to get the sister over immediately.
When the disgrace of a person arrived, Elijah quickly took Y/n into his hold while Rebekah also sat with them. She stroked Y/n’s hair comfortingly and listened closely to what was happening. Klaus and Kol had the woman by her throat compelling her her for answers on what she’d done to Klaus’s girl. After being forced to admit every horrible thing that she had done to Y/n, Klaus and Kol did their worse. Borderline maimed her.
Klaus then destroyed every last thing that the monster had used to destroy and ruin Y/n’s feelings of security and happiness.
He had to get rid of all her clothes, he refurbished his whole room and got her all new little things in an attempt to make her feel better.
Y/n appreciated the gesture but couldn’t just slip back into her ways. It took a lot of time from all the Mikaelsons. They cared for her as well as they possibly could and did everything possible to help her feel comfortable.
Slowly she felt safe enough to slip.
Klaus was ecstatic the first few times she went all the way. He wouldn’t ever let her go, he’d have her in diapers so that he could take care of everything and have her without an ounce or worry. He’d bounce her, rock her, feed and nurture her.
Klaus frequently reassured her that he loved her being little and that he never wanted to feel uncomfortable again. He just wanted to love her and keep her safe forever.
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golden-cherry · 1 year
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deal - cl16 (2/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The first breakfast together is a good idea to get to know each other better. And to make the first arrangements. And to cheer each other up.
Warnings: google translated French, mention of "nice guys"
Word Count: 3.4k
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A/N: part two my loves! please tell me if you liked it!
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Back when you went to school, you always woke up to the cooing of the pigeons that lived in the tree outside your childhood bedroom. They announced the new day, which was filled with learning, friends and fun. True, the time of your graduation had been incredibly exhausting, but in all the summers that followed, you woke up in the morning to the same sound and nostalgia felt like an old friend.
But now it's mid December. There are no birds outside whose chirping might wake you in the morning. And yet you've been lying awake in your bed for an hour.
All night you've been thinking. Charles apparently didn't try to break into the bedroom to kill you. You haven't heard any strange noises all night. But deep sleep was still out of the question with a complete stranger sleeping on the couch one room over. He did seem nice last night - after you had talked things out halfway - but the "nice guys" are also the worst in the end. 
After all, you had to experience that firsthand. 
Hands clasped behind your head, you stare at the white ceiling of your room. Your cell phone is lying next to your pillow. Some time ago, you lost it somewhere in your bedspread, and when you had to shake it out, the phone flew into the nearest wall. Since then it has its permanent place near your head.
A quick glance at it tells you that Charles will theoretically be asleep for just under two more hours - if you can believe him. Normally, you'd be getting ready for work right now and eating breakfast. Maybe you'd fry up some fried eggs or make some yogurt with berries. And then you'd go to work in peace.
Frustrated, you put your forearms over your face.
Right after you woke up, you googled for new job openings, but except for a new dog-sitter job posting, there doesn't seem to be anything new. Nothing at all. If the job were advertised with a reasonable salary that would allow you to continue financing your life in Monaco, you'd think twice about applying.
Finding a job that suits you, is fun, and pays a good salary is incredibly difficult. Almost impossible. When you were younger, you once saw a picture of a triangle on the internet. One corner said "friends," the second said "good grades," and the third said "sleep." The caption read "You can only choose two." That's exactly how job hunting feels.
You wouldn't tell Charles about it. Your unemployment, like his affairs, is private. If he asks, you'll simply say you're off because the company requires its employees to take vacation days in December. Doesn't sound convincing, but at least it doesn't completely suck.
Oh God, hopefully he won't ask.
As your stomach speaks up with an almost embarrassingly loud bubbling sound, you can no longer suppress your hunger. You slip out of bed and change from your sleep outfit - a big shirt and comfy sports shorts - into a pair of jeans and a comfy sweater before quietly turning the key in the door lock.
The rest of the apartment is silent. You sneak into the bathroom on your socks to brush your teeth and quickly comb your hair. As you slip on your shoes at the front door, you glance toward the couch to make sure you weren't dreaming last night.
The fact that a stranger is suddenly standing in your apartment, claiming that it is his apartment, sounds very far-fetched. And that he then spontaneously starts cooking sounds even more implausible. 
But you didn't imagine it. Charles is lying with his back turned to you between the pillows, the blanket tangled between his legs. He seems to be sound asleep, because when you open the apartment door, he doesn't move a bit. 
After taking a good look at the dog-sitting job this morning - two cute dachshunds, Hubert and Guenther - you had drawn up a chart of the things your new roommate and you would need to discuss.
Cleaning the apartment, for example. Since you'd still be staying in the bedroom, you'd obviously keep the room clean. Maybe you could also clear out a drawer in the dresser for Charles to put some of his things in, so he doesn't have to live out of a suitcase. But it's definitely too early for that. After all, you've only known each other since yesterday.
Although the morning has just begun, the sun is shining pleasantly warm as you walk to the nearest bakery. Having breakfast together definitely can't hurt if you plan to get to know each other better so that your shared apartment can function well. As long as Charles doesn't kill you and gets a little involved as far as organization goes, you'll be fine. Last night he already said that there are some things that need to be discussed today. And as long as the organization and in the end also the execution is not only dependent on you, the ship will probably not sink. 
Marie, the incredibly nice saleswoman who gives you a small, free piece of cake every Saturday, bags you two pain au chocolat and two croissants before you pay and she wishes you a nice day. While you don't know what Charles likes to eat for breakfast - if he eats breakfast at all - you're certainly not barking up the wrong tree with the pastries. Besides, breakfast isn't just about getting to know each other better and getting some structure, but you'd also like to apologize. For being willing to hit him over the head with the newspaper.
You quietly enter the apartment, only to find that Charles is already awake despite the time - 8:13 a.m. He's sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you close the door behind you. His brown hair is sticking up from his head, and he wearily runs a hand through his strands before looking at you.
"Bonjour." His voice seems to have dropped an octave since last night, and it's rougher than yesterday, too, which is probably due to waking up. His gaze moves from your face to the bags in your hand. "Petit déjeuner?" Breakfast. You nod. "Pour nous deux?" For both of us? Again, you nod. Charles closes his eyes briefly before rising from the couch. "Give me a moment. Be right back."
While he's in the bathroom, you put two plates on the dining room table and add everything that could be used for a good breakfast. You quickly rinse the dishes Charles put in the sink yesterday and put them away. 
When your new roommate rejoins you, he looks more awake. He sits down across from you at the table and reaches for a bag. As he grabs a croissant, he looks briefly surprised, but you're too distracted by the pillow print on his cheek to notice. 
"How did you sleep?" he asks as you take a bite of your pain au chocolat. 
You swallow. What are you supposed to answer him? That you slept fitfully all night, afraid he might be a murderer after all? Would be a great topic of conversation to start the day. 
"I don't know," you answer neutrally. Charles tilts his head. "I mean, it was kind of weird knowing that someone completely foreign was sleeping just one room over."
"I'll bet." His smile is faint, but genuine. Little dimples bore into his cheeks. "Maybe we should make sure we're not particularly strangers to each other then. After all, we'll be living here together for quite some time. And I'd hate to be responsible for you not getting a decent night's sleep."
"It's okay," you answer him. "I haven't slept properly in ages."
"I'm always told that a good night's sleep is important. That's why mine is sacred to me." He rubs his free hand over the dark stubble on his chin. "Besides, it's not healthy not to sleep soundly. From that point of view, it's worth a try to me. And I'd hate to be responsible for your poor sleep. 
Most of all, you'd like to tell him that while his presence unsettled you last night, he's not the reason you can't rest, or sleep through the night. That he's not responsible for you falling asleep late and waking up early. But you don't. Because it's none of his business.
"While we're on the subject -" you put your pain au chocolat on the plate in front of you, "why are you up already? Did I wake you up? I swear I was trying to be really quiet, but -"
"I got a call," he says curtly. "Until you were standing in the doorway, I didn't even know you were gone. So, everything's cool." The smile is gone from his face. Apparently, his caller is just as popular as the one you pushed away last night. Or maybe he's just tired.
Since it's none of your business, you try to distract him. "So, Charles. How about it? What else is in you besides being able to cook? What do I need to know about you?"
Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc turned twenty-five in October, born and raised in Monaco. He has two brothers, one of whom is older than him and the other younger. He speaks English, French and Italian and does a lot of sports. He likes to eat pasta, but his nutritionist - who the heck has a nutritionist? Someone who can afford to have a second home in Monaco, of course - always advises him against it. 
He also travels a lot for work reasons. On his cell phone he has a lot of photos that he has taken in different countries and to be honest, you are already a little envious. Except for your home country and Monaco, you've never been anywhere else. What would you give to be able to travel so much? A dream that will probably remain denied to you, if your bank balance is to be trusted.
Some of the photos, he confesses, were taken by Joris - your Joris. You knew Joris was also a photographer by trade, and judging from the pictures, he's incredibly good at what he does. Apparently, the two of them travel together more often. Either the two are best friends or Joris is Charles' personal photographer. Or both. 
He won't tell you exactly what the Monegasque does for a living, though. "Something with cars," is his answer, and since you have relatively little idea about it, it's quite enough for you. He tells you a lot about himself, and you secretly hope that the information he gets from you will be enough for him, and that he will please not ask about your job.
But there you are mistaken.
"So what do you do for a living?"
The pastries are eaten so you crumple up the bags and throw them in the trash can. You stand up, and as you turn your back on Charles, your face contorts briefly. "I'm a photographer."
You hear Charles rise from his chair as well, stacking the plates. You barely noticeably flinch as he suddenly stands next to you. "And who do you work for?" He places the plates in the empty sink, grabs the sponge and detergent, and begins washing the dishes.
"For a small magazine, nothing wild," you reply curtly, drying the clean plate Charles holds out to you with his foam soaked fingers. It clanks as you put it in the cupboard with the others. 
"For that one?" He points with a nod to the magazine lying on the small coffee table. Of course, it's the one you threatened him with yesterday. A wide grin spreads across his face as you roll your eyes. 
"Sorry," you apologize, but are secretly glad for the opportunity to change the subject. "What would you do if someone strange suddenly showed up at your apartment?"
"I'd probably threaten to call the police." You don't know how that's possible, but his grin gets even wider and his dimples even deeper.
You have to grin. "Ah, so we're joking about that now? That I was standing there all scared, armed only with a magazine?"
Charles' gaze is amused, but gentle. The green in his eyes sparkles as he looks at you. "Just wrapped in a towel, not to mention. But I'm sure you would have kicked my ass."
Charles stows his bedding in the hall closet while you wipe down the table to clean up the last remnants of your first breakfast together. After fluffing the couch cushions, he sits down and pulls his laptop from his backpack. Stretching out his legs, he gestures for you to join him. 
"So," he begins as you sit down at the other end of the couch. You pull your knees to your chest as he waits for you to get comfortable. There are only a few inches between your feet. "I couldn't sleep last night, so I've been thinking about all the things that come up when you have a roommate." He looks up from his laptop for a moment. "Well, actually, I was just Googling."
You're pleasantly surprised that he actually thought about it. And apparently, not just a bit. He's even created an Excel spreadsheet, with weekly plans, tasks, and a financial overview, as far as grocery shopping goes. He included every little detail in his lists. 
Very dedicated, the young man in front of you. 
"We're summarizing." Charles stretches out his arms and folds his hands behind his head. You've spent an hour talking everything out, going over several possibilities, and finally you've come to a common denominator.
"Since you live in the bedroom, it's also your job to keep the room clean." That was the easiest point. "And that's why it's up to me to clean the living room. The bathroom gets cleaned weekly, on a rotating basis. Since you just cleaned it recently, it's my turn next week."
You come to an agreement that you will buy groceries from the money in the joint household fund - a small cookie jar where you actually stored sewing supplies - and he will cook instead. Since you're more of a frozen pizza kind of person and his nutritionist sends him a weekly meal plan, Charles also wants to put more money into the household fund. The fact that you benefit from both the meal plan and his generosity doesn't seem to bother him.
"That settles the organizational stuff," he finishes, setting his laptop aside. "But we should establish other rules. For the interpersonal stuff."
You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow. "Interpersonal?"
"Yup." He stretches again, and his white shirt slides up a little so you can see a strip of skin from his belly. You quickly look away. "Communication and stuff. So if something's bothering you, please tell me." Charles crosses his arms in front of his chest, his shirt straining over his biceps. "I don't feel like having to ask five times to get you to finally come clean. My patience is definitely too thin for that."
Understandable. Your patience is not quite that thin, but when someone doesn't speak up and then acts passive-aggressively, that's a no-go for you, too. 
"Open communication. Got it." You cross your arms in front of your chest as well. "But then please give me a heads up if you're bringing someone home with you. I don't want to come home at some point and be left in just a towel again. And if you do bring girls, I'll stay the night somewhere else." With his looks, you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't have at least five women wrapped around his little finger. Maybe you're crossing a line with the request, but if this whole thing is going to work out, it should be cleared up.
The smile that just now had a firm place on his face disappears. "Don't worry. It's not going to happen."
Apparently you have crossed a line, or rather hit a sore spot. All of a sudden Charles seems tense, the relaxed atmosphere seems to be lost and you would love to take it all back and apologize, but your roommate is faster.
"I don't think we need to talk about privacy. Everyone has their own stuff to deal with. If someone wants to talk about it voluntarily, that's fine, but no one is being pressured into anything here." You nod silently. "And I think honesty is important. I experience so much dishonesty in my job and it makes life so much more difficult and stressful. Just be honest with me, no matter what, and I promise I'll be honest with you, too. No matter what it's about."
The topic of unemployment pops into your head, but disappears again as Charles scoots closer to you on the couch and sits up straight. "We'll work it out. As long as you promise not to murder me in my sleep. After all, I don't have the option of locking myself in a room." His smile has returned to his face. It's faint, but at least it's there. 
"You caught that?" you ask, biting your lower lip.
"Like I said, the walls aren't very thick. But I don't blame you." He winks at you. "But I hope I'm not a complete stranger to you now."
He's actually not. True, you haven't talked about much personal stuff yet, but that's sure to come with time. Or maybe it won't. Sharing an apartment doesn't necessarily mean you'll become best friends. And that would be fine, too.
"I'll think twice about locking the door tonight," you quip, and his smile widens. It's so infectious that you follow suit.
"All right. I think we can work this out. I haven't drawn up a roommate agreement now, but we're both adults. We'll stick to the agreements and if one of us thinks of anything else, we'll talk it over and work it out." He holds out his hand for you to shake. "Deal?"
You hold out your hand as well, but before you can shake his, the cell phone in your pocket rings. You pull it out and when you see who's calling you, your smile vanishes in a millisecond.
Why is he calling you? Hasn't he humiliated you enough? Embarrassed you? Made you the joke of your - former - friend group? What does he want from you now?
You press the call away and, frustrated, toss the cell phone between you on the couch and rub your hands over your face. You don't notice that Charles has caught on to the situation until he speaks up.
"Are you busy now?" As you look at him, he's still smiling, but a little softer. His smile doesn't reach his ears now, but the green in his eyes gleams nonetheless. 
You exhale loudly. You're out of a job. What could you possibly be up to? "No. Why?"
Charles gets up from the couch. "Then let's do something. I know a really good lookout point. You can see all of Monaco from there."
Whether he actually feels like doing something with you, or is suggesting it out of pity, you don't know. But maybe Charles deserves a little benefit of the doubt. And you definitely don't feel like sitting around on the couch waiting for anything to happen.
"Come on, Y/N," he tries to coax you out of your shell.
"Are you going to take me to a secluded place to kill me? Or are you really going to show me a nice lookout point?" You stand up so that you are facing each other. You have to tilt your head back a little to look him in the eyes.
Charles looks down at you. "Do you really think I'd kill you now, after we've spent ages discussing our shared apartment? Wouldn't that be wasted energy?" He rolls his eyes playfully. "Give yourself a break."
"Fine," you reply to him. You raise your hand and point your index finger at him. "But if that lookout isn't the most beautiful I've ever seen, I may kill you."
Charles laughs. He almost closes his eyes at that. The sound is so heartfelt you have to grin.
"Deal."
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