#y than any of the others. he was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams undernwath and most of the hairs in hi

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

A Dark Love

Summary: Two murders on the run in the 70’s fall in love.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, murder, death obvi, gore, smut, knife kink, blood kink, mentions of cannibalism, lots of angst,just a warning this is kind of heavy! So if you don’t feel comfy don’t read ❤️‍🔥

Wc:3.8k

Y/n is sure that man is watching her every move. Either that, or it’s her paranoia building up after being on the run for ten days. 

Ten whole days without a single cop glancing her way, after murdering two men at a bar she thought they would at least have a lead on her, but nothing. Nothing for a whole year. Since the news broke of several different men carelessly slashing women, Y/n has decided if men can kill women for no good reason, she can kill men for no reason. It’s better to have no men on the planet than only a few good ones. 

Her first was Tommy. Thirty two, blue eyes, brown hair, two hundred and three pounds, born January fourth nineteen forty two. He lives alone in a two bedroom apartment, his room filled with porno mags and disgusting memorabilia of past girls he obsessed over until his last moment. 

Y/n met him behind a bar just ten hours after the news about Lynda Ann Healy broke. Y/n was so disgusted and horrified that she fell into a spell once he tried pulling her back into his busted Red Ford pinto that she killed him right then and there, pulling the sharp buckle from her belt and stabbing him, walking all the way back home will bright crimson blood dripping from her face.

That night she discovered her new love. She had always adored taking care of herself, taking it slow and appreciating the simple things in life, like a hot bath or a new rose scented face cream- but nothing made her feel quite better than seeing her plump young skin masked in a coat of blood. She felt like she was reborn, branded into a new woman with a new fresh hungry need to kill. 

Since that night she’s been slashing into any man she can, the more bloody the better for her, bathing in the thick blood like it is a luxurious skin cream.  Now she’s up to fifteen bodies. 

“Have a problem?” Y/n calls over, feeling the cool metal of her dagger press into the plump skin of her thigh to make sure it was still right where she wanted it. There was nothing she loved more than leading a man down onto his knees for his last sight to be her uncovering her sharp blade. 

The man is handsome, standing tall with a slim but sturdy build, Tattoos, silky hair piled on top of his head- he obviously hasn’t gotten a haircut in a few months, big green eyes, a mustache dusted above his lip, dressed in some button up shirt with all too tight pants.

 She can have a little fun with him before she kills him. 

“Not at all, sweet thing.” He shoots her a wink before lighting a joint, taking a drag from it then passing it off to her. She pushes it back toward him but takes her place leaning next to him against his shiny blue car. “No thanks.” He lets out a tiny laugh, pulling it back to his mouth instead. “Your loss.” He breathes out, smoke falling from his mouth. 

“I don’t smoke strangers' pot.” Y/n says, glancing up at the man. He smiles, “Then let me introduce myself. I’m Harry. Now we know each other, babe.” She rolls her eyes, stepping back. “I can already tell you’re an asshole.” He tosses his arms out, “c’mon, I don’t bite.” A large smile spreads on his lips, but she ignores it and walks back to the car.

Y/n isn’t quite sure why the man’s stupid words bothered her so much, but she had a feeling about him and something was off. She walks a few feet back to her car before getting inside and starting it up. Shoving the key in and twisting it she realizes the old car finally bit the dust, merely taunting her with a cough but no roar to start. 

Her head turns at the noise, seeing Harry roll up next to her. “Looks like you need a ride.” She rolls her eyes, grabbing her couple of bags and stuffing them in his car before flopping into his passenger seat. The car was stolen so she wouldn’t miss it. 

What’s the worst that could happen? If he tried something she would just plunge her dagger straight into his heart… but she would lose her cool if her favorite corduroy skirt happened to get blood splatter on it. 

“Where are you going?” He asks, glancing over her tight and reserved body language. “Anywhere.” The 

“Seriously, where are you going? I thought we were over that stranger danger shit.” Y/ns rolls her eyes at the man, picking at her manicured nails to avoid his gaze. “I’m just going.” it's his turn to roll his eyes, scoffing at her. “Seriously,”

“Get off my case, asshole. You need to take a chill pill.” 

“I need to chill?! You need to stop being so fucking up tight!” The second he raises his voice at her she spreads her legs and pulls her dagger from the inside of her thigh, gripping it tight in her hand while he throws his up in surrender.``Hey, Hey, Hey” he rushes out, getting her to back off. “Either fuck off or ill slit your throat. It’s up to you Harry.” She says with a sweet smile, her heart racing from the adrenaline pumping through her veins and the excitement of possibly getting a small taste of the pretty boy's blood. 

“Jesus, sorry.” She gives a tiny nod at his apology and backs down, but not before he starts chuckling. “But you wouldnt of stabbed me.'' He raises her hand again, carelessly aiming to just teach him a lesson instead of actually killing him. 

“Fuck!” He shouts, blood pouring from his hand. “Dont get it on my fucking skirt!” she shouts back, groaning at a little drop of blood soaking into her skirt. Harry quickly pulls the silky wrap she had tied around her hair and wraps it around his hand to stop the bleeding. 

After their panic settled they both let out a shaky breath before Harry pulled her in, grabbing her knife and pressing his lips to hers. “That was so fucking hot but if you ever do that again I will kill you.” 

The car is stopped in the middle of the road but that doesn’t stop them from tearing off each other's clothes. She yanks Harry’s button up shirt open while he peels her panties down her legs. She takes her turn and unbuckles his belt, shoving her hand down his pants and pulling his cock out. 

Hushed words are exchanged as she slides his big cock deep inside of her pussy, licking the fresh blood that drips down his wrists as he thrusts in and out of her from under her. 

Harry holds her dagger against her neck, the sharp blade scraping against her delicate skin. She lets out a moan, her mouth and chin covered in his blood. He kisses her, his tongue slipping inside of her mouth to taste her. 

 “I can’t believe you stabbed me.” He laughs on her lips, softly dragging the knife down her throat before pressing it between her breasts. He kisses her one last time before pulling away breathlessly, “if you ever try that again, I promise, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He presses the tip of the dagger into her chest enough to draw a bit of blood then pulls it away. 

To be clear, Harry has never killed a woman. Really just killing random men, slitting their throats or strangling them when he notices they are following a young girl home, or slipping a pill in someone’s drink, only for good reason. He’s not a psychopath, he’s only murdered 12 people!

“I’m cumming, fuck.” Y/n cums, letting out a moan and pulling herself away from the man.

After they dress themselves, Harry returns to driving, stepping on the gas and riding down the old country road. It was an absolute ghost town, corn fields, boarded up farm houses, and abandoned shops are the only things left in the old town. Y/n loved this. This was the kind of place she could stay in forever, a town where there are little people and no one cares to get to know the tiny population. 

She might consider settling down here, there’s only a gas station and a tiny grocery store, but even those are smaller than the average small town shops. This looked like a lowkey spot to hide out in, or maybe it is something straight out of a horror film- but so is she. 

“Pull over” Y/n finally speaks up after about twenty minutes of driving in silence. There was a tiny yellow motel, paint chipping and graffiti covered all along the exterior. “What?” Y/n rolls her eyes at his questioning she grabs the wheel from him and drives through the grass and into the parking lot of the rundown motel.  “What the fuck?!” Harry yells, quickly putting the car in park. Y/n jumps out before she can hear any of his bitching and walks through the motel and into a check out counter. 

Behind the counter there is a man, a short but sturdy build man with clown makeup on. Any normal person passing through this town and stopping at the motel for a safe place to lay their head for a night would be startled to see such a man behind the counter but this comforted Y/n. If the tall man was anything like her, she knew there wasn’t a chance the cops could bust her here. 

“Howdy… Gus. I’m going to need a room for tonight.” She glances at the big wooden sign that reads “HOWDY” with a large cowboy hat burned into it. She isn’t sure where she is, but wherever she was she knew it was just a bunch of homicidal fucked up hicks. 

“Single bed or two beds?” The man grumbles, a low deep voice coming out of such a short man. “Single bed.” Harry comes behind her, scoffing. “I’m going to need a room too.” 

“Bad news, there’s only one room.” 

“How many beds?” Y/n shoots up, hoping she doesn’t have to deal with this man for god knows how long. Yeah, he was just inside of her thirty minutes ago, but that doesn’t mean she wants anything to do with him. 

“Only one.” Fucking classic. 

“Well you can just keep on steppin’.” Harry shakes his head at her words. “No way, not after you drug me with this hell hole.” Y/n pulls a tight lipped smile, shoving her hand into her pocket aggressively and pulling out some bills and change to slam on the counter before snatching the key from Gus’ hand and stomping off. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The door flies open while Y/n storms into it, almost hitting Harry with the heavy wooden door. When she takes a quick look-see around the room she is instantly disgusted with the orange shag carpet, the stiff avocado green bedspread and the brightly cartoonish art bolted to the wall. “Well isn’t this just fucking nifty.” She lets out a huff then throws herself back on the bed. 

“You act like I’m not bummed out about this too! But we both need a place to crash and it might as well be with each other since we’re in the same boat. So, if you could stop your whining I’m going to clean up my hand.” 

She looks away, rolling her eyes. “I won’t hesitate to whip out my blade on you again.” He tossed a hand out to her before locking himself in the bathroom. 

Y/n takes this time to unpack her bags, which is really just unzipping them and then tossing them onto the floor. 

She’s not sure why she was drawn to this place, but she had a good feeling about it. Sometimes she regrets hurting all those men, having to live such a quiet life, always being on the move and never stable. But she’s hoping soon enough the investigation will be closed. They have been working to figure out who is behind this string of murders for far too long and she knows if she just sticks it out a little while longer they will give up. She’s sad for the families grieving, but not sad that there is a couple less useless fucks in this already shitty world. 

Hopefully she and Harry will get along. They got off to a rough start, and are still in a rough stop, but she thinks with a little work they could be partners in crime- no that she’s planning on killing any men while she’s in hiding, but if need be. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Where did you run off to?” 

Y/n  pushes open the motel door, kicking it shut with her heel and pulling her glass bottle of big red up to her lips for a swig. She dumps the big paper bag onto the entertainment center of the motel room, tossing a bag of chips at the man, then pulling her carton of cigs out and lighting one up. “Convenience store.” She mumbles through her exhale of smoke, flopping back on the squeaky bed where Harry sits up straight. 

“If we’re going to be staying together we need to learn a little bit more about each other.” Y/n rolls her eyes, taking another drag off of her Marlboro. “Why are you suddenly Mister moral? Don’t you like…kill people?” Harry rolls his eyes, he’s grown increasingly agitated with her and if she wasn't such a pretty girl maybe he would kill her. 

“Yeah, bad people. But that’s irrelevant. I hardly know you.” 

“That didn’t stop you from fucking me in your car twenty minutes after we met, even after I stabbed you.” Harry stands up, shaking his head, leaning back and growing out of frustration. “You’ve got a smart fucking mouth.” She gives him a breathy chuckle. “Yeah?” She slowly rises to her feet, ashing her cigarette on the shag carpet and taking another drag from it. “What are you going to do about it?” He takes that as a challenge, grabbing her jaw with his bandaged band, four fingers on one side and his thumb on the other. 

They lock eye contact for a couple of beats before Harry pushes his lips onto her, pushing her down onto the bed and unbuckling his belt. It was already three in the morning, and they both know people are sleeping but no one staying in this hell hole is resting well. She slides down the silky sleep shorts she had slid on along with a tattered graphic tee before heading off to the store. Y/n keeps her eyes on his hands as he pulls his belt off and pushes his trousers down. 

Hushed words are exchanged and before either of them know it Harry is deep inside of her, lifting one leg to get deeper. 

Y/n smiles blissfully, reaching for her dagger she had tossed on the bed and sliding it against his hip bone, making sure not to nick his sensitive skin with her piercing sharp knife. Harry grabs it from her hand, trailing it up her hot body and slowly makes his way up to her neck. He traces the blade around her ear, taking his time before he slides it against the side of her neck, making sure to be soft with her. She annoys the fuck out of him, she has a smart mouth and was too reserved for someone so mouthy, but he cant help but kind of adore her. 

He quickly pulls out of her, cumming all over her pussy. “Oh fuck” she whispers, flopping her head back and relaxing into the bed. 

Harry pushes her shirt up, kissing over her bare chest and trailing it down her stomach. She feels a fluttery feeling in her belly. Similar to how she feels after she comes home prior to slashing into a man, blood spraying all over her face. She gets to stand under the warm spray of her shower, watching the water go from crimson to clear and drain down, giving her skin a good scrub before sitting bare in front of her vanity and pampering herself with rich creams. She feels like she's being taken care of, such a light delicate feeling. 

 He sinks to his knees, spreading her legs wide and burying his face between them. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Rise ‘n shine.” Harry sings, shaking Y/n awake. 

Y/n blinks her eyes open, groaning and getting in a good stretch so she's not so stiff. “What's on your face?” Harry's hand comes up to wipe at his face, examining the splatter he wipes off. “Oh, i'm not sure.” he walks into the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before stepping back into her vision. 

“I've been thinking a lot this morning.” 

“It’s seven in the morning, how much thinking can you do?” Harry shrugs at her questions, pushing his frankly, fabulous hair back and starting to gather his things together to pack in his hefty leather bag. “Like I was saying, I’ve kind of been thinking… let's leave. Let’s go find some other place to stay.” 

Y/n whips her head back to him whilst she strips naked and starts the water in the pink tiled bathroom. “What the fuck are you talking about? I thought we decided that this was the perfect place to hide out! It’s a fucking ghost town here.” 

Harry rocks back and forth then turns on his heel to start pacing back and forth in front of the messy bed from Y/n tossing and turning all night. “Not to get all weird but I can't talk to you when you're bare naked. it's tripping me out.” She scoffs, “Prude.” then steps into the shower. 

“If you dont mind, make this shower lickety split. I'm itching to get out of this place!” Y/n groans at his nagging, quickly rinsing the shampoo out of her hair and squirting a rather large pile of cream white conditioner into her palm and working it into her hair. “Why are you so impatient? Why cant you take a fucking chill pill.”

“This place is just creeping me out, man. I gotta get out of here.” She groans again, feeling the irritation bubble up and begin to boil over. “We agreed that this is the perfect spot to stay. I'm already settled in. Why leave now?” 

“Enough with all the questions, please.” 

“Why?!” 

“Cause I fucking killed Gus! Okay?! Now please, can you speed this the fuck up so we can get into my goddamn car so we can find some other place to stay?!” Y/n calming but quickly rinses her body off and steps out of the shower, drying herself off much too quickly, basically still dripping wet and she throws the towel into a tiny laundry basket. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Harry throws both of his hands out.

 “Again! Jesus christ can you just put something on?” 

“Oh my god!” She throws a shirt at him, sliding panties up her legs and quickly getting dressed, deciding to go simple with a pair of yellow corduroy flares and a black rolling stones tee shirt tucked into it. “I guess lets fucking go since you decided to murder someone.” She grabs her back and Harry trails right behind her, walking down the long dark hallway. “We're literally on the run to try to get out of murder charges and you decided to kill the dude behind the check-in counter. What the fuck was that for?” Harry grumbles, obviously growing more and more agitated by her never ending questions and attitude. “I dont want to talk about it.” 

They hop in the car, and take off once again. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

They've been driving for a while. 

If Y/n is honest, She’s kind of bummed that they had to leave that motel. At first she was just worried that they would catch wind of another murder and have her and Harry’s name tied to it, but thankfully their records are clean and Gus never took record of their stay. But now, she just misses it. It was a little spooky and there were other sketchy weirdos staying there but that comforted her more than anything. 

Y/n thinks she's feeling a touch homesick, after moving into her previous apartment she finally had a place of her own to call home with no roommate, it was all to herself. Having no sense of stability, only being on the road was kind of messing with her, but as much as she doesnt want to admit it to herself- and especially to him, having Harry as a partner in crime has been really great. 

“So, do you think youll ever go back to wherever you ran from?” Y/n shakes her head, her feet hung out of the window and a cigarette perched between her two fingers. “Nope. kind of starting fresh. Finding a whole new job and shit, a new place to stay. Maybe I’ll be an avon lady.” They both laugh at her joke. “Me too. Now that I've left there's no way I'm going back.” 

“Can I ask you a question and get an honest answer this time?” Harry quickly glances at Y/n, “Sure.” There is a beat of silence before she speaks again. “Why did you kill Gus? I can tell it wasn’t just because he pissed you off. We stayed up talking all last night and you dont kill unless you've got a good reason.” 

“So you want the honest answer?” 

“Yeah” 

“It was because of you.” 

“Me?!” Y/n shouts, she hardly spoke a word to Gus. 

“Yeah, he was telling me how hot he thought you were and for some reason I just kind of… lashed out.” 

Y/n takes a moment to process it, ashing her cigarette and taking one last drag on it before putting it out in the car's ashtray. She clears her throat, “So what, do you think i'm your girlfriend or something now?” 

“Well, if you want. I'm not uptight about shit like that or anything. We can just vibe it out.” Y/n softly laughs. “Okay, lover boy.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Y/n and Harry finally found a place to stay. Thankfully, Harry and Y/n both had good money saved up prior to them being on the run so they splurged at a nice hotel and decided to stay in the suite. 

This time, Y/n didn't throw a fit when she had to stay in the same room and same bed as Harry. She lets him be a gentleman and he carries her bag up to their room. This time, its going to be different. This time they are going to stay put,find a spot for them to settle down together- not just in a hotel room. Maybe they will put their lives of crime behind them and stick together as one happy couple. 

Maybe. 

Hiiiii!!!! If you liked this PLEASE reblog!! I’ll love you forever and I doubt a lot of people are going to read this due to sensitive subject matter but hoping this will hit my target audience 😭 im really scared that this got boring towards the middle but it was inspired by house of 1000 corpses! hope you liked it !

Tag list: @harrysddtittys @hopeyoustaythenight @harrysdimple05 @damnasstyles @harrysfolklore @msolbesg @thismaydestroyme @stallrry @ayeshathestyles @michellekstyles @lhharrylilpumpkin @kissmyaxe140 @buckymydarlingangel @cherrycolas-things @luvonstyles @victoria-styles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #dark romance #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #enemies to lovers #harry styles headcanon #Harry styles Halloween #harryween #harry styles enemies to lovers #Harry styles dark romance #harry styles tpwk #tpwk #Harry’s house #fine line #watermelon sugar #Harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #Harry styles angst #harry styles wattpad #harry styles masterlist #harry styles preference #one direction #harry styles mature #harry styles reader insert #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n

[boiohboii]

The Tattoo Sleeve (Neymar Jr. Soulmate au)

Chapter 1

Prologue

I am currently sleep deprived, so I am really sorry for any mistakes.

I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

Warning: curse words

Taglist: @itzz-me-duh

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"I need something to cheer me up that doesn't come from a vending machine," y/n took a seat beside the young children "you got any ideas?"

Three pairs of confused brown eyes looked to their left, seeing a white coat before tilting their heads up to see an unfamiliar face. Anyone passing could feel the peculiar atmosphere; the young lady having a relaxing aura while the three boys looked uncertain of the question itself, much less how to answer.

"Don't worry," reassured y/n "I am a doctor here, my name is y/n."

With a look to each other, the three decided to trust the long piece of clothing along with the card hanging on her neck, and introduced themselves.

"Thiago"

"Davi"

"Mateo"

"You boys have such nice names." Cooed y/n.

"Thank you."

"We are not babies!"

"Don't talk to an adult like that! Papa and Mama told us to be nice."

The two brunet boys reminded her of tom & Jerry in that moment, they were currently arguing about whether to be polite or to not trust strangers. Both rules taught to them by their parents, and both were correct - well, some would argue about always being polite rule, but that's not the current issue.

"A hug." A timid reply came as the blonde boy admired his swinging feet.

"Well, who's the lucky person that you hug?"

"Papa and mama," Lucca smiled. "My grandma too! She gives the best hugs!"

Y/n smiled at the small boy's enthusiasm as he talked about everyone that has hugged him with a wide grin on his face.

"What about me?!" Exclaimed Thiago. "I hug you too!"

"Yeah, but you're shorter than me!"

"Hey! My brother isn't short! He is big and strong!"

A laugh escaped y/n as she watched the three boys argue over the fact that a person is short doesn't mean they aren't strong. Oh they are so cute! I want to squish their cheeks so bad!

Going through her pockets, y/n searched for a few candies to give to the boys as a thank you for cheering her up, she always loved talking to kids they had the most genuine and entertaining conversations, especially with each other. However, as she was digging around she felt a smooth, slightly wet smudge on her fingertips, no no, please god I don't want to stay in a small cubicle for 10 minutes to reapply anything!

Looking at her wrist, the concealer's tone was bright and clear against the white sleeve margins, y/n groaned and rolled her head backwards.

"Miss, are you okay?"

Came a small voice, making y/n realise that the three boys have stopped their back and forth and watched her intently, not sure if they should move away in case she wanted to rest; Davi remembered his mother telling him of how hard doctors work and study to be able to help him, or if she was hurt and they should call someone.

"Ahh yes," y/n smiled reassuringly. "Just my coat got a bit dirty and I have to go change."

She wasn't about to tell them that her connection to her soulmate was writing on skin, and that her soulmate was obsessed so she had to wake up nearly before all and any gathering or meeting or work appointment by 3 hours to cover up tattoos that her soulmate placed on his skin with no consideration of the consequences that will occur to her nor her request at 23 years old asking him to please, stop.

Yes, she was and still is bitter about it, she can hold a grudge. (She, in fact, can not hold a grudge for more than 2 hours.)

"Is that a tattoo?" Mateo frowned with knitted eyebrows as he tried to get a better look at the drawings under her sleeves.

Wide eyes and a stumped smile on her face, y/n nodded, wondering how such a young boy knows what tattoos are. Well, there is internet everywhere. However, unlike her thoughts, the little boy had recently been obsessed with his father's right arm, looking at the black ink with the occasional question.

"Papa has that!" Raved Thiago as he looked at his brother and friend with shinning eyes and a wide smile. He had rarely seen any women with tattoos, only a few and he has no idea why, but it was something new to him and it made him want to sit with the doctor for much longer.

"Yes! Uncle Leo and papa have tattoos!" Gushed the blonde boy with his friends before asking y/n if there was more.

Not seeing any harm in showing three little boys the small uncovered part of her uncontrolled tattoo sleeve, she lifted a bit of her coat, just a layer really. And as soon as she had done so, the only blonde gasped as his eyes widened, freezing in place.

He looked familiar, very oddly familiar, and she knew that, she knew that she saw him before, she saw him nearly everyday in black ink on her forearm. She was desperate for the thought in her head to be wrong, to just be her mind playing tricks on her or for her to just currently be going through a romantic drought that she is making things up.

But, she was so, very wrong.

"That looks like papa's!" Davi exclaimed as soon as y/n showed her arm.

Well, holy shit. I am not insane. I'm right!

Oh. I 'm right.

Chapter 2

#lionel messi #neymar #neymar imagines #neymar jr x reader #neymar jr #neymar x reader #neymajr #neymarjr #neymar x y/n #neymar fluff #neymar angst #brazil #football soulmate reader #football imagine #football x reader #neymar soulmate #neymar soulmate fic #neymar x soulmate reader #neymar x oc

[seoksgrl]

happier than ever, 4. : knj namjoon x reader friends to strangers to lovers

tws: alcoholism, depression, suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide

note: this chapter was a hard one to write, and a hard one to read, please heed the warnings!

m.list prev | next

You’ve been staring at the shop window for twenty minutes now, and you know the only reason you haven’t been shooed away with a broom is because you know the owner. Mrs Ahn’s shrewd eyes watch you from behind the aged glass, her knowing gaze watching you with equal parts pity and weariness. You’re still dressed in the clothes you went out in last night, and you haven’t been back home to change - you stink of stale booze and cigarettes, but people pass you as if you’re not there. 

The necklace is still in the window, and you come to stare at it every so often when you’re feeling particularly sorry for yourself, when you want to remind yourself of the waste of breath you have become. The necklace only fetched a few won, being fake and all, but the night you’d pawned it, the few notes it got you was enough to buy three bottles of whiskey. 

Today, you’ve decided to punish yourself a little longer than usual, staring at your mother’s necklace on the other side of the glass, letting the cubic zirconia glint at you like a wicked wink, mocking you for being the worst human being on planet earth. It almost hurts a little, and that's all you allow yourself before you turn away, walking down the street like a coward. 

“Y/N, dear,” Mrs Ahn calls, and you stop for a second, pausing in your step because this moment has strayed from the usual routine. When you turn, the old woman is watching you with those same eyes that remind you of the liquor you’d bought after seeing her that night, and you look away, down at the pavement, “Did you need something?”

Mrs Ahn has never been a cruel woman, nosey, yeah, but never cruel, and you know she is only asking with the hopes that you might suddenly morph back into the old version of yourself, the one that's easier for everyone to digest. 

“I know today is a hard day for you,” She says, her voice on the icy breeze carrying that same sorrowful lilt that drives you insane, “it’s the first since she passed, isn’t it?”

She knows it is, so you’re not sure why she’s asking, and you’re not going to answer either. The slur in your voice almost seems permanent now, but for some reason you don’t want her to hear it, so you nod and turn away, ignoring the several other attempts Mrs Ahn makes to call your name. 

It’s been two days since Namjoon came to your house, kicking out some guy whose face you don’t even remember, let alone his name. Any normal person would’ve thanked him, but you didn’t, instead you kicked him out and smashed up the living room, making it more of a mess than it already was. At least now you don't have to clean up your own messes anymore - not that you have been lately, anyway. 

Everytime you see Namjoon, it feels like swallowing cement, like you’re rooted in place with nowhere to go. His eyes make it impossible to move when you’re in their sights. Perhaps that’s why your immediate reaction upon seeing him is always anger, to look away from him for fear of him seeing all your ugliness. There sure is a lot of that lately. 

The sun begins to set, and you let your hazy mind focus on the one thing you planned to do today. It’s not often you make plans anymore, not ones that don’t involve the bar anyway, but today is important. It may be the most important plan you’ve ever made, but first you have somewhere to be. 

Taking the brown-bag covered bottle of wine from your coat pocket, you take a swig, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and walking across the street towards the cemetery. 

“Looking good, man,” Jooheon says, wiping his hair back off his forehead. 

The heaters in the lobby have managed to ward off the sudden icy weather that’s fallen over Yeocho. Namjoon’s almost positive that if he looked outside, snow would begin to fall, and he can’t deny he always loves watching the first snow of the year. He always used to sit with you, usually watching from your bedroom window, his head automatically turning so he could see your twinkly eyes staring out at the dark, nose twitching in anticipation. 

The memory is a sharp, swift kick to the gut at moments like this, especially after the last interaction the two of you had. He wants to make it right, to go see you, but he doesn’t want to smother you into accepting his presence again. You’re going through shit, terrible shit, and he knows most of how you’re feeling. 

When his mom died, you were there for him day in, day out, much to Seokjin’s annoyance. The older man never said anything, but Namjoon could tell at the time, even during your hushed phone conversations with him when Namjoon was sat by the fire, as you snuck off into the kitchen to make hot chocolate and call Seokjin to explain why you wouldn’t be coming over again. 

The house had always felt empty when you had to leave for work at the studio, and Namjoon can only imagine it’s a hundred times worse with you in the house alone every day. He feels ill at the thought of you curled up on that old sofa crying. 

“Namjoon?” Jooheon says again, shaking Namjoon from his own form of torture, “You good?”

“Uh…yeah,” He smiles weakly at Jooheon who stands over him, handing him a beer. Namjoon’s hand aches from pulling up floorboards all day, and he’s sure he’s gonna have a couple of calluses on his hands. Though, it’s almost nice to feel the hard days work in his whole body instead of the usual lower back pain he leaves the office with, “Thanks, man,”

“Still thinking about, Y/N?”

Namjoon almost startles a little like when he was a teenager. Oh, there were so many times he was asked questions about you, mostly by his mom. How’s Y/N, honey? Did you see Y/N today? Have you asked that girl out yet? Namjoon fights off a smile at his mother’s insistent voice replaying in his mind, glancing up at Jooheon as he sips at his beer, “Yeah, actually. Just worried about her,”

“Aren’t we all?” Jooheon blows out a whistle, “She shouldn’t be on her own in that house. If she sold that place, she would be able to buy back the studio in no time,” Jooheon snorts, “Or better yet, get outta this place,”

“Yeocho has it’s charm,” Namjoon says, feeling oddly defensive about his hometown, “Besides, Y/N would never sell that house. She loves it. Aside from that asshole ex of hers, it was probably the only thing holding her back. The house and her mom,” his voice grows wistful, “I should go see her,”

“I can come if you like? I mean…” Jooheon gives Namjoon a cheeky smile, “she still likes me,”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, almost missing the flicker of jealousy in his chest, “Thanks for the reminder,”

By the time Jooheon and Namjoon get to your house, Namjoon can already tell you’re not home. The lights are off, and there’s a stony silence that surrounds the property, it’s almost eerie, and it sends a chill running down his back. When he knocks on the door a second time with no answer, he starts looking around, trying to shake his memory. 

“What you looking for?” Jooheon asks, cupping his hands to look through the darkened window, he backs away just as Namjoon finds it - the spare key under the plant pot. There’s an odd sense of warmth that flows through him, another thing that hasn’t changed, “A spare key? I don’t know, man. Isn’t this breaking and entering?”

“Not with a key,” Namjoon says, not feeling totally thrilled by the idea, but he has to get this icky feeling off of him. Something feels wrong, “I just want to check,”

When the two men enter the home, it’s trashed, smashed glass in the kitchen, a mirror toppled in the hallway, sofa cushions ripped and tossed aside like garbage. The scent of alcohol drifts throughout the whole house, and when Namjoon steps in a puddle of liquor, he finds something that makes his blood run cold. 

“Is that a match?”

Jooheon’s perplexed voice rings loud in the silence house, and Namjoon bends to pick it up. The match is black at the nub, a signal it had burnt, and from the smell of it, recently too. “Yeah,” Namjoon says, his voice sounding very far away to his own ears, “she missed,”

“What?”

“She threw it to hit the booze,” He walks further into the house, the alcohol staining the dusty carpet in dark blooms, and suddenly Namjoon can’t breathe, “she…she meant to burn it down,” 

Jooheon is deathly silent beside Namjoon, and it’s only within a few seconds that he springs into action, a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, “I’m gonna call the cops, you check upstairs and I’ll take another look around here. Try to stay calm,”

Namjoon is so beyond the point of calm that he feels as if he’s gone into shock. He can’t imagine what you were thinking, or maybe he can and just doesn’t want to admit it. His body moves independent of his brain, and he’s sure it's just pure adrenaline fuelling his actions as he drops the burnt match in the wastepaper bin by the stairs, gripping the hand rail as he takes the stairs two at a time. 

Your bathroom, his first choice to look, is clear. He chances a look in your mother’s room, his heart sinking and lifting within one breath as he finds it completely untouched, your mom’s hospital-grade bed still tilted upwards as if she had been sitting up. His eyes fall to the chair beside the bed, and he shakes his head, a lump rising in his throat. 

You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone, to watch your mom slowly pass away. Why the fuck wasn’t he here? His chest is heaving by the time he pushes open your door, and he’s not sure if it’s relief or panic that has his blood rushing in his ears. Your room is empty, save for the utter chaos that perfectly summarises your life. He smells alcohol and vomit, and he wants to retch, mostly because of the reality of how your life has been. If he didn’t realise it before, he does now, he can’t ignore it as the sight of clothes, bottles and grime lay scattered around your bedroom. His eyes glance up, muscle memory from the years he spent laying on your bed with you and looking at the freshly painted planets done by your mother, an artist just like you. 

He feels a tear leak from his eye, dribbling down his cheek to where his jaw tightens. He turns away from the room in shame, jogging down the steps just in time to see Jooheon race from the kitchen, his eyes wide and hopeless as he shakes his head. Even as Jooheon confirms it, Namjoon knows exactly where you are, and he doesn’t wait for his friend, racing out of the door and into the freezing night air. 

His breaths sweep around him in clouds of white smoke, his chest almost aching from how cold it’s gotten in the moments he spent searching your house, and he doesn’t have time to get out his phone for the flashlight before he’s taking that well-beaten patch, his feet slipping on a rock or two along the way. He’s pushing aside the grass, breathing hard as the tears cool on his face, this heavy dread sitting in his stomach, almost painful, enough to make him want to lean over and retch onto the waterlogged bank of the lake. 

He gets to the clearing, finding the pier, but you’re not on it like last time. He skids to a stop, almost slipping on a patch of black ice as he runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands. Jooheon must’ve followed him, because a pool of white light comes up beside him followed by his friend, panting. 

“Y/N!” Namjoon cups his hands, Jooheon standing close by as he swings the flashlight out to the lake, “Fuck!”

“The lake’s frozen,” Jooheon says, almost too quiet, his eyes narrowed as he continues shining the light out to the water’s surface. It’s on the second or third sweep that Namjoon grips his wrist, forcing the light towards a hunched, black shape on the water. “Jesus,”

Namjoon is panting, his eyes almost blurry from the adrenaline running through his system, and his lips are numb when he speaks, “The lake isn’t strong enough,”

Jooheon’s hands reach up to clutch at his hair as Namjoon speaks, realising the predicament. Namjoon tugs the flashlight out of his hands, the pool of light finding the back of your head as you begin to turn. 

You’re far away, but Namjoon can see your blotchy red cheeks, the bottle in your hand and the sway in your steps. You slip once, and Namjoon’s heart jumps into his throat, but when you right yourself, you stare at him with lifeless eyes. With a trembling lip, you raise your hand, doing something he never thought he would see you do again. 

It’s an old game the two of you used to play, spelling out letters on each other’s palms so the other could guess the word, but this time you’re not close enough to reach his palm, so you settle for spelling it in the air instead. The light on you is trembling as Namjoon fights to hold the torch steady, and you manage to spell out two words. 

I’m sorry

And then, Namjoon’s world ends as you stomp your foot once, breaking the ice and falling into the dark, cold water below. 

taglist: @maryseesthings @rkivesfilm @btsffreader92 @creolesoul2seoul @kissme-ornot

#bts smut #bts angst #bts x reader #bts scenario #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #bts x you #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon scenario

[notyour-valentine]

The Boy in the Window 19 ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Series)

Chapter Summary: Arrow House and it's grounds is even larger when looking for a missing child in the night

Notes:  I've had to split this into two parts as it was getting too long, so unfortunately no Tommy in this part yet (but twice as much as planned in the next part) I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Here, you can find my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Warning: Canon conforming mention of violence. Mentioned stereotypes of romani communities (18/21+). Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Expect spoilers for Peaky Blinders Season 1-4.

Wordcount: 5388

Part 19

[Previously]

She was wearing nothing but her old brown coat over her thin nightgown, but she did not feel the bite of the night air. 

But (Y/N) knew it was cold. She knew it with a certainty beyond what her body could feel. 

It was far too early in the year to hope for a mild night and there was still a chance for rain- let alone the dampness that hung in the night air, coating grass and tree and stone in a thin film of tiny droplets that would drape a white veil over the entire estate as soon as the morning light would break through the skies. 

However it would be hours before that happened.

And even then no one should be out here without a coat and proper, steadfast shoes, let alone now. 

And so while she did not feel the cold nip at her skin, she felt it in her heart- an icy terror that had gripped her, bringing tears to her eyes and an almost inhuman strength to her bones. 

Inside her, a war was waged - anger raged with anguish, despair fought with determination while blind confusion crashed against that kind of courage which bordered on insanity. 

Two dozen lamps were glowing all throughout the grounds like oversized fireflies, some closer, some all the way in the distance. 

There were many but not nearly enough to illuminate the entirety of the estate. Not even close. All these little circles of light they could create were nothing more than little rowing boats in a vast sea of impenetrable darkness. 

For all they saw, there was ten times as much as they didn’t, and even more that they couldn’t. 

(Y/N) did not know what was worse for her to hear, the echoing shouts or the suffocating silence that came after. 

All the while Frances’ words echoed in her ear louder than any sound of snapping twigs or crunching gravel. 

“The outdoor staff saw him as he was approaching the gate and then he slipped off or fell and disappeared before they could reach him.”

The fools had caught the damned horse but missed the boy. 

And now he’s out here all alone. 

She had known the estate was big, but not this big. 

It would take days to search every inch of it, even in daylight. 

But the cold night made it treacherous even to someone who was entirely familiar to it. 

Every root she came across could trip him up, every stone glistening with the damp night air could make him slip. 

That and more was all too easily overlooked in the darkness, let alone by a frightened, frantic little boy. 

What if he fell and hurt his foot, unable to get up again? Or worse - what if he hit his head? 

What if he was frightened by all the commotion and hiding somewhere they wouldn't find him? 

What if he was cold? What if he got too cold?

That thought made her wrap her arms around her tighter to stop herself from shuddering. 

She wanted to scream, to pound the earth with her fists until it cracked open, to tear down each tree if only it meant she could do something. 

But she could only do as little as the rest of them - stumbling through the darkness, shouting his name and trying not to succumb to desperation. 

Her mind betrayed her once more, flooding her with images of possible outcomes the way it had done throughout four years of war and later when she did not know what lay beneath the cloth or was sitting alone in her living room awaiting news of a man gone to face death again and again. 

Then she could have allowed these images, she could have allowed to sink into a pit of sorrow and fear, then when she had been equally helpless and useless. 

But not now. She could do something. She had to do something.

And deep down she knew she wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t be able to stop until they had found him. 

She thought the no matter what or how before she could stop herself and it made her chest ache as if someone had pried open her ribcage. 

Just as they finished crossing a grass area to a path, they were met by other searchers. 

“We’ve combed through from the Northern gates.”, one of the drivers that had led a searching troop explained. 

“And we went all the way to the river. There was no sight of him on the way but we kept a few men there to keep a look out.”, said a second. 

Oh God. 

She had completely forgotten about the river. It wasn’t a large one big enough to let boats pass, but wide enough that one couldn’t touch both sides at the same time, not even with two people. It wasn’t deep enough for an adult not to be able to stand in, but it was a different matter for a child. 

He should know not to go to the river!, she thought. He knows. He is a smart boy, a reasonable boy. 

(Y/N) took a shuddering breath. 

But he’s also a boy that stole a pony and tried to run off. 

“Did you check on the other side of the river? Towards the forest?”, Frances asked. She had returned wrapped in a long coat and thick scarf. 

“There’s no way across.”

Pacing up and down, she tried to gather her thoughts, to free them from her fears. 

She couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew the answer, or at least an answer, but every time she had nearly reached a coherent thought, another biting fear, another harsh image crossed her mind. 

Digging her fingernails into the palms of her hand she let the pain anchor her. 

“Where he normally go? Any special places where he might feel safe? Any hiding spots?”, one of the farmers asked. He was the one she had bought the honey from with the children just a few days ago. 

He had seen the commotion and the lights and had joined with his two sons, fourteen and sixteen, with the innocence of boyhood written all over his face. 

She swallowed hard and flexed her fingers as she looked around at Frances and the others.

“Apart from the stables.”

That was where they had checked first.

“The play areas empty and we turned the entire house upside down.”, Frances told them. 

That would have been her next suggestion - the kitchen and that spot in the servant’s staircase where one could see out to the paddock. 

She had never entered Arrow House and all she knew of it was from what they had told her. 

Crouching down on the floor she closed her eyes and tried to remember anything he or Emma had ever told her from her visits her, any place she mentioned in her games. 

But there had been so many stories, so many tales and she had been so distracted from time to time. What if she had missed it?

What if Emma had told her the answer time and time again and she had been to preoccupied with her own worries to notice?

But Emma hadn’t seen much. She usually just went to the stables for her lessons in the closed off paddock. 

(Y/N) remembered often how she’d complain about wanting to explore but Charlie had always been the insisting they go back to Warburton House as soon as possible. 

She should have seen the signs earlier and when she had seen them she shouldn’t have let Frances brush her off. 

Then they wouldn’t be here. 

That was why they had people search any possible route between the two homes. 

But nothing had come of that. Nothing at all. 

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. 

Burying her face in her hands she thought back to times before that, to months past when Charlie had only just come to her. 

He had been so homesick then and filled with stories, about Frances and the maids and the time he spent in the kitchen - 

No, they already checked the house. 

He adored the stables but he wasn’t there either and they would have found him in the play area or the back gardens. 

If he had been anywhere near the fruit trees she would have seen him as soon as the car carrying them had arrived. 

He had talked of his toys a lot and of his horses more, of how he’d saddle them, tend them and ride them just like the way his father had taught him. 

Charlie could go on and on about the riding instructions and especially the rides they took to the trees and along the river and that one spot- 

Her head shot up as she sprung to her feet. 

“There’s a place by the river where you can cross it.”

“What?”, Frances asked her confused, but she nodded feverishly. 

“There’s a place by the river,”, she said, practically stumbling over her words and not stopping to take a breath. 

“It looks just like the rest but there’s a sand bank underneath the water. You can’t see it but if you know where it is, you can cross it easily. The water didn’t even go to his ankle he said!”

“Where?”, the chauffeur demanded to know, glancing around his eyes wide.

“I don’t know!”, she admitted, as it dawned on her that if Charlie had attempted to go to the river he might have gotten lost in the dark and that was a possibility far darker than any other she had thus far dared to consider. 

And unlike the canals, there was movement in the river. 

One misplaced foot and the water could grip hold of him and-

“I don’t know. I don’t know. We have to ask Tommy! He’ll know! He’s the one that took Charlie there!”

Still panting she turned to Frances, her lips now dry from all the open-mouthed breaths she had been taking.

“Where is he?”, she asked frantically. “We have to tell him. He’ll know. He has to know!”

In her urgency her voice climbed to a higher pitch than she normally used.

“Mrs Hale.”, Frances whispered, reaching out with her hands to steady her, as if she wanted to comfort her. 

Unlike all the others, the urgency had disappeared from her eyes, leaving pity in it’s stead. 

And pity was one thing she could not understand and the last thing she wanted to see.

“What? What?”, she demanded to know, staring at the other woman. 

Her tone was far from polite, but (Y/N) was beyond common courtesies and manners and she didn’t care who was there to witness. 

With regret in her eyes she shook her head.

“Mr Shelby won’t be joining us.”

A soft gasp escaped her lips in stark contrast to the rumbling of the earth she felt. 

For a few seconds all she could hear was the blood rushing through her ears sent their by her thundering, panicked heart. 

But then her anger washed out any trace of her fear.

“You can’t be serious!”, she snarled through clenched teeth, her eyes flashing. 

Swallowing hard, the housekeeper nodded. 

Every muscle in her body tensed to the point of bursting as now it was her turn to shake her head. 

“No!”, she snapped. “Absolutely not!”

She began to pace again but no longer in fear- instead a bottomless rage had claimed possession of her. 

How could he?

How dare he?

“Has he lost his mind?”, she shouted into the night, making a few of the bystanders flinch. 

Even Frances took a step back, but (Y/N) was quick to follow. 

“What does that- what does any of that matter now?”, she pleaded at her, her voice trembling as despair claimed her once more. 

She would beg on her knees for his forgiveness, would throw herself at his feet and at his mercy, would do anything and everything if it meant he’d just pull himself together until they knew that Charlie was safe. 

The fact that she even had to consider that, made her sick to her stomach. 

Her eyes burned the way they only could when they frantically tried to keep tears of at bay as she stared at the looming red stone building he had barred her from. 

Was her slight against him really so great that it would prevent him from helping them search for his son?

“He can continue to hate me all he wants once we have found Charlie! We need to find him!”

How could he hold onto all that even now, when all that mattered was finding Charlie and making sure that he was alright?

The invisible belt around her chest tightened once more and every breath felt like she was competing against the force of a dozen men. 

Or against the anger of one. 

In that moment she hated him in return, and when her eyes returned to the silhouette of the house, the one he had banished her from, the one Charlie had sought to escape, she felt vile tasting disgust claw its way up her throat. 

“No, Mrs Hale,”, Frances insisted, her hand finding her shoulder, “you don’t understand! Mr Shelby-”

(Y/N) never found out what Mr Shelby did or didn’t do or said or didn’t say as in that moment shouts were heard.

“We’ve found him! We’ve found him!”

~

The estate seemed twice as large now when they were rushing back in the direction of the house. 

With every breath of the cold air she took, with every beat of her racing heart, she repeated the knowledge she had now. 

They’ve found him. 

They’ve found him. 

Thank God they’ve found him.

They hurried towards the stables but not to where the horses were, but to the large stretched out shed at the back. 

A whole host of people were outside and it took quite the effort to shove past them all. 

“Why didn’t you check there earlier?”, she asked one of the estate workers. 

“We don’t like to go in there, Ma’am.”, he muttered, his face as pale as winter snow. 

“Who knows what’s in there?”, another added, spitting on the ground. 

“What’s in there?”, she demanded to know, her heart dropping. 

Her mind went to the blackest rumours that circulated around the Peaky Blinders, about the cuttings and killings. Once she had even heard that some people thought they collected the eyes they took or that they had hidden torture chambers to break the will of their enemies. 

Whatever hell lay beyond these doors, she wasn’t afraid enough and did not even hesitate for a single second as she entered the stuffy dark shed as the smell of wood and leather filled her nose. 

But inside, she saw no horror, no grisly scene - nothing of the sort. 

Instead she was met by three different gypsy wagons, some painted and decorated, others plain and simple. 

And she understood. 

For a split second she was little again, staring at the reddish glow of flickering light that came from hung windows and candlelight, the scent of incense and burning herbs filling her nose. 

Words, words she did not understand, chants almost, had rung out into the little courtyard. 

Devil’s work, they had called it, and branded Mrs Shelby a witch for doing so. 

There had been warnings too, to stay away, to not accept anything she might give them. That it was all cursed. 

But she wasn’t a little girl any longer. 

One brave stableboy was kneeling on the floor in front one of the two-wheeled one that had been tipped to the back to rest on the back. 

When she approached, he looked up wide-eyed and shuffled back to make room. 

“Charlie?”, she asked, suddenly frightened at what she might find. 

Her knees touched the cold floor and she leaned forward so that she could look underneath. 

“Careful,”, the stable boy warned. “It’s only tipped. If it loses balance and comes down this end it’ll crush you.”

She couldn’t deny it. The two wheels had made it like a seesaw. Pulling at one end would make it tip towards one, as the balancing bolts had been taken out. 

God help me, she thought as in spite of that, she scooted under, but she couldn’t get further than the level of the two large painted wheels. 

It was so dark in the shed, and even darker under there she could only make out movement. 

“Charlie, are you there?”

In the darkness she picked up a slight shift but nothing more. 

It might as well have been a cat. 

“Tell Harry to go away!”, a whimper finally came from the darkness. 

Relief made her clasp a hand over her mouth as tears threatened to spill out of the corners of her eyes. 

But it wasn’t over yet and so she gestured at the boy to leave, fighting to keep a fragment of her composure. 

“But the wagon!”

“It’ll have to hold.”, she insisted, “go- go!”

He hesitated, but then he obeyed, leaving just the two of them. 

She stretched her arm out as far as she could into the darkness. 

“It’s just me now, Charlie.”, she assured him. “It’s just me.”

But her words were only met by silence. 

“Charlie?”, she pleaded. 

“Everyone was shouting out there.”, he whispered and she heard the tears in his voice. 

“I know, but they’ve stopped now!”, she said trying to sound as cheery and light-hearted as she possibly could. But her voice still trembled. 

She etched slightly further even if her shoulder began to ache, but she just had to touch him. 

“Are you cross with me too?”, he said in the softest, faintest voice. 

“No, no Charlie - I’m not cross with you. Not a bit!”, she insisted, her tears hitting the ground of the shed. 

“You sound upset.”, he whimpered.

She struggled to find a convincing response, but no lie she could have thought up would have been enough and so she told him the truth. 

“It would make me so happy to hold you right now.”, she assured him. 

That broke the spell which had kept him in the dark. 

He reached for her hand first and she pulled him towards her, while at the same time shuffling out from underneath that wagon on her back, her hand covering the top of his head so that he wouldn’t scrape the edge of the old wood. 

And then they were out and in the light and he was in her arms again, clinging to her the way she was clinging to him. 

His face was nuzzled into her chest while she pressed her nose to the top of his head, one hand on his back, the other in his hair as she clutched him as tightly as she could. 

He was curled into her the way she had held Emma when she had been a baby. 

For a long while she couldn’t hear or see or thing. She just held him with the same desperation as he clutched her and they both cried. 

Sniffling, she finally pulled away, stroking his hair back.

“Darling, darling, I have to look at you.”, she insisted, but he only pushed his head further into her chest as if he sought to conquer a place in her heart as if it wasn’t already his. 

“Charlie please, I have to see if you’re hurt!”

Only reluctantly, did he let her pull his face back slightly. 

He was still wearing his pyjamas, partly stained by dirt with large wet patches on his knees and shin, as well as his sleeves. 

She didn’t miss that the fabric had split on one knee and at the edges blood had mixed with dirt. 

When she pried his hands away from her nightgown she saw the scraping on his palms. 

It took some effort for her to be able to move her arms far enough to shrug off her coat, succeeding only once Charlie had caught onto her intentions. 

Once it was off, she wrapped him up in it as best she could, leaving her only in her nightgown. 

“Does anywhere else hurt?”, she asked, stroking her thumb over his palm. 

He shook his head and leaned his head into her chest once more.

Sighing deeply she smoothed over his soft blond hair. It felt damp to the tough.

“What are you doing, huh?”, she asked, before cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears away. 

“I wanted to come to you.”, he confessed. “I want to stay with you, with you and Emma!”

His bright blue eyes were shining with tears as he reached up at her with his scratched hands shaking lips.

“I want to stay with you. Promise you won’t leave me.”

She shook her head and cupped his face. 

“I won’t. I promise I won’t!”

With that all the tension seemed to flee from his muscles as he snuggled into her once more and she just held him, thanking anyone who would listen to her prayers for the fact that he was alright, and safe and warm and in her arms again. 

It was long after Charlie had drifted off to a dreamless slumber of exhaustion in her arms, when her racing heart had settled enough for her to take a shuddering breath. 

When she finally gathered the strength to pick him up in his arms, she made sure he was still covered in her coat before she left the shed. 

The crowd of people had only ever grown and she was glad he was asleep and didn’t have to face them. 

Frances rushed towards her with relief written all over her face, but when (Y/N) saw her outstretched arms, she took a step back, turning to her side to remove Charlie’s sleeping form from her view. 

“We should take him back inside, Mrs Hale!”, she said softly, trying once more.

“He’s coming with me!”, (Y/N) insisted, before turning on her heel and storming back towards the cars as quickly as she could with him in her arms. 

“Mrs Hale, please!”, she heard Frances as the woman caught up to her. 

But when she saw the look on her face, the housekeeper’s eyes widened. 

“I asked you if something was wrong,”, she hissed under her breath, “and you assured me all was well.”

Frances swallowed hard and averted her eyes. 

“I asked you for Charlie’s sake and you lied to me and now look where we are! What it came to!”

“Mrs Hale, I-

“I don’t care!”, she snapped, shifting Charlie in her arms. “I honestly do not care.”

She was beyond that, far beyond. 

“So you can tell Tommy whenever he sees it fit to ask after his son that he’s safe and that he’s with me! Where he will stay!”

With that she left Frances standing but she didn’t get far.

Her own voice had been hissed and Frances had spoken softly but the voice of Polly Gray rang through the darkness. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”, she demanded to know, storming from the entrance of Arrow House like a fury from the stories. 

But (Y/N) was no longer frightened of her, and met her flashing eyes. 

“I’m taking him!”, she insisted, lifting her chin and glaring at her. 

“Oh no you’re not!”, Mrs Gray argued, in an almost mocking tone, as if this was all amusing to her. 

She came so close (Y/N) could not only smell the cigarette smoke on her, but also the vilest kind of a sweet smell that made her jaw clench. She reeked of sickness and other wretched smells. 

“Don’t think for one second that you will put a foot out of this estate with the boy against Tommy’s will. Who do you think you are?”, she sneered in a tone so low and threatening it would should have terrified her, but like earlier in the night, her anger defeated her fear.

Despite the blinding anger in her eyes, her voice was calm, and she was unbothered by the gasps and whispers her words earned. 

“I’m the one that went looking for him.”, she said unflinchingly. “Unlike you. Unlike your nephew.”

Mrs Gray bristled as if she had slapped her, which somehow made (Y/N)’s chest swell with confidence. 

“How dare you?”, she spat. “Tommy’s his father.”

“And a what a father he is.”, she shot right back.

Even now, he didn’t show his face, sending his aunt in his stead. 

Mrs Gray’s dark eyes turned cold.

“Give me that boy!”, she demanded. 

(Y/N) didn’t move a single muscle.

“Give him to me or I will take him from you!”, she threatened and looked ready to claw her eyes out.

“Mrs Gray!”, Frances said, coming from the sidelines, stepping in between the two women, her back to (Y/N) and Charlie. 

“Perhaps Mrs Hale and Emma could stay here. For Charlie. He’ll only try again, Mrs Gray. You know he will.”

The other woman’s jaw clenched.

“Mrs Gray, please!”, Frances insisted. “It’ll be what’s best for the boy. We can put them in the guest wing, far away from - from you know. 

And everything else can be discussed when Mr Shelby-”

“Fine!”, she sneered, cutting Frances off sharply before pointing her finger at her. 

“But only for the boy’s sake!”

With that she stormed back towards the house. 

~

She hated the idea with every fibre of her being.

 Her whole body and soul revolted against the prospect of entering let alone staying in this house with the children. 

Instead everything screamed at her to take them away from this place but she couldn't. 

All the maids and servants had been gathered for the search, and there was no way she could force her way out with the children. She’d need an army for that, and another if she hoped to get far. 

Once before she had tried to find ways to escape with Charlie, before she knew of his identity. Even then it had been risky and unlikely, but now knowing who he was, it bordered insanity to even try, not without an incredibly good plan and great allies. 

But at least this way she had them together. 

A shudder had come over her when she had first heard her heels click in the entrance hall of Arrow House. 

The flickering lights of the electric lamps did little to dispel the darkness. 

Once inside Frances tried to take Charlie again, but she shut her down immediately. 

He'd stay with her. They both would. 

She still did not know what had made him want to run and until she did, she wouldn't even consider letting them out of her sight. 

Finally, Frances had relented and shown her to a guest room. It was the last room in the last corridor and it took several minutes just to walk there. 

But it was large with a grand bed large enough for two adults. 

In a few minutes, the maids had made up the room, but it was void of recent use and seemed cold to her. 

Emma had thankfully slept throughout the entire thing, from when (Y/N) had taken her out of her bed, not wanting to leave her alone in Warburton House when needing everyone for the search, nor during the time she spent sleeping in Lisa’s lap in the car while her mother stumbled through the darkness. 

Even when she was placed on the bed, she only chewed in her sleep and rolled over. 

She couldn't do that with Charlie just yet. 

Laying him down on the sofa at the corner of the room, she began to unbutton the shirt of his blue silk pyjamas. 

"Here is the warm water, the iodine and an ointment.", Frances explained in a whisper as she brought it in, accompanied by another maid who held not only a spare set of pyjamas for him. 

"Thank you.", She forced out. 

Charlie had scrapes on his knees and palms and she first took care to rinse the dirt from them before applying the iodine as gently as she could. 

He winced, but didn't wake. 

All the while, Frances was standing behind her, not wanting to leave but not daring to raise her voice either, being silently and watchfully helpful. 

Once Charlie's wounds were tended to, she put him into a new set of pyjamas and carried him over to the bed, putting him down next to Emma. 

This was far from the first time these two had shared a bed and neither was disturbed in their sleep by the presence of the other. 

The tranquillity the two of them radiated was almost enough to melt her anxiety away. 

“We’ve put out some clothes for you, Mrs Hale.”, she said softly, nodding to a pile placed on the dresser. 

“Is there anything else you need?”

(Y/N) turned slowly to face her. 

Exhaustion had drained parts of her anger but a large portion still remained. 

"An explanation.", She said, her low tone making her voice lose none of it’s sharpness. 

The other woman swallowed hard and apparently rid herself of her tongue in the process as no words passed her lips. 

"I want to leave with them as soon as possible.", She told the housekeeper. 

"I doubt Mrs Gray would allow that without Mr Shelby's permission."

The mention of his name sent shots of electric pain through her body. 

He still hadn't shown his face and with every second that passed, the pit in her stomach grew deeper. 

Funny, really, how quickly affection, care and compassion could turn to cold, biting disgust. 

Shaking her head she controlled her voice only for the children's sake. 

"His boy goes missing in the middle of the night and he doesn't even care enough to show his face."

Saying it hurt in a different kind of way, the biting, throbbing way only disappointment could. 

Charlie deserved better, and a part of her thought she deserved better too. 

But maybe it was her fault? 

Maybe this no contact decree he had imposed on her had now extended to Charlie? 

No, that was too much. Despite his flaws, Tommy did love his boy. She had seen it countless times, and would have sworn on the Holy Bible for it. 

At least before tonight’s betrayal. 

She still couldn't believe that he could hate her that much to let it cloud his love for his son. 

"It's not that, Mrs. Hale.", Frances said, her voice so uncommonly faint it sounded almost fragile. 

"I'm sure he would have been right there with you if he had been able."

"What do you mean 'if he had been able?", She demanded to know, as a cold shudder ran down her spine. 

Frances shifted once more as if she searched for a way out of the corner she had painted herself into. 

“I shouldn’t say.”

“I think we are far passed what should and shouldn’t happen.”

The other woman nodded, but still averted her eyes before starting to speak. 

"Mr. Shelby's not been well.", She told the expensive wooden floorboards. 

"Not been well?", (Y/N) repeated, as something else mixed in with her anger and disappointment. 

"Y-you should get some sleep, Mrs. Hale.", She assured her with a smile that looked more like a grimace. 

"Tell me.", (Y/N) asked, her voice for the first time since this nightmare had started a few hours ago, completely calm. 

And maybe that was the reason why she did speak. 

"He's been drinking a lot- more even than his usual.", She began, "and all the whisky and gin doesn't help with his gunshot wound."

Her eyes widened. 

"A gunshot wound?"

Tommy hadn't gotten shot in the confrontation with Luca- there had been pain yes, but no but holes. She would have seen it and she would have remembered. 

Frances nodded. 

“It heals poorly and the drink doesn't mix well with the medicine he takes and we've lost track of the medicine he doesn't take. It makes him…I can’t really describe it.”

An icy cold began to spread through (Y/N) as she listened. 

Her eyes met (Y/N)s and she imagined seeing fear in them. "He's in a bad way, Mrs. Hale. A very, very bad way."

End of Part 19

~

Part 20

Thank you for reading! I’d be very grateful for feedback of any kind!

Taglist: 

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @watercolorskyy @books-livre @chlorrox @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy

The Boy in the Window

@katiebugg03 @esistmon @chlorrox @theshelbyslimited @budugu @woofgocows @orkwardx0 @judig92 @100percentamess @kabbuu @esposadomd @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @starsnsecrets @ladylovesalot @katiepie67 @acoolnight @chaotic-onigiri @ohshititsfenharel @muhahaha303 @xoprincessmel @shittingonyourgrave @pessimisticbiitch @elisa20beth @simran-preet19 @majesticcmey @akiisbae @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @vodkainthecoffee @pearlstiare  @jk-acc @cutecurly-hair @lovecleastrange @kishie8  @kirenia15  @nervousmumbling @babayaga67 @mbv2361 @pheitvsx @alessioayla  @kishie08 @butterfly-skinnylegendegend @mrsmalfoyshelby  @lostgirl219 @rangerelik @kishie8 @burninggracesandbridges @just-a-harmless-patato @globetrotter28

#the boy in the window #valentineswritings #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #Thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic

[anonymousewrites]

A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 1) Prologue

Prologue: Wasted Potential

            “Sherlock, we’ve already looked through all the kids’ rooms, there’s nothing here,” sighed the grey-haired police detective.

            Lestrade, thought (Y/N), recognizing him from the inspection of the boarding rooms a few days ago.

            Scotland Yard was currently investigating the death of Lori Nelson, a social worker at the orphanage where (Y/N) lived. The immediate suspects were the orphans housed there since there were several old enough and strong enough to push the knife as deep as it was in Nelson’s chest, and she was known to argue with several due to their attitude and destructive habits. ((Y/N) often faced the end of her scoldings because they didn’t try to engage with the other kids and was deemed “uncooperative in social situations”). However, Scotland Yard needed to consider alternatives because nothing had been found in searches.

            Now, however, there was a man with curly brown hair and a long black coat looking through the rooms once again. And although Lestrade seemed exasperated, he didn’t pull Sherlock away, so (Y/N) came to the conclusion that the man must have some intelligence if he was allowed to run rampant. On the other hand, though, he had no badge ((Y/N) had watched for any shapes in his pockets and glanced at his belt but saw nothing), so he was not affiliated with Scotland Yard. That added to the idea that he had to have some incredible deductive abilities of Detective Inspector Lestrade was letting him come here to investigate.

            All of that led to (Y/N0 hovering around the doorway as Sherlock lifted up mattresses and peer underneath.

            “Sherlock, we’ve already been through all of this. Nelson was seen arguing with several of the teenagers here, but there was no evidence of the weapon here, so we don’t know who to look into,” said Lestrade.

            “Graham, what is it like in your little mind?” asked Sherlock. “You need to think bigger than the obvious.” He grinned as he pulled out a large knife with small bloodstains left on the metal where the cleaning product applied to it failed to remove the evidence.

            Someone put it there on purpose. It’s under Miles’s bed, and everyone knows he and Miss Nelson had that argument a week ago because he almost set fire to the dorm with the matches he stole.

            Lestrade frowned. “The killer moved its hiding spot so that we would never find it. They must have moved it here because we were going to expand our search, and we’d already looked here.”

            Sherlock sighed like a tired teacher dealing with a toddler. “Again, bigger than the obvious.”

            Lestrade was struggling to remain civilized. “Sherlock, that scenario isn’t obvious. It would mean the killer is intelligent.”

            “He isn’t,” replied Sherlock simply, smelling the knife. He grinned, a slightly manic look in his eyes as he solved the case at hand. “Red wine. Expensive brand. Opened two days ago, likely right before the murder occurred.”

            Everyone blinked at him, not making the connection. Some of the other kids around (Y/N) glanced at each other with “is this guy crazy?” looks on their faces.

            Sherlock sighed dramatically. “Oh, come on! It’s obvious!”

            “Director Lillis did it,” said (Y/N), tired of the whole situation and wanting it to be finished so they could just relax in their dorm again without officers prowling all over.

            Lestrade raised an eyebrow. “Charles Lillis? Nelson’s presence made his life easier, why would he—“

            “Exactly,” said Sherlock, looking at (Y/N). “And how do we know that?”

            It was a challenge: Are you guessing or do you know? (Y/N) knew.

            “You smelled the knife. I’m guessing there was alcohol on it for it show through the horrible attempting at cleaning the knife. Lillis abuses alcohol, but he usually dresses it up as just being a collector,” said (Y/N), rambling a little but staying logical. “He always had a thing for Nelson, but she wasn’t interested. She probably accepted his offer for a drink to get him off her back and then rejected him again. With him being likely drunk and already short-tempered, he ended up killing her. But again, he was drunk, so he did a terrible job at hiding the body, which is how some of the younger kids found it so quickly in the extra freezer (we know they keep sweets in there sometimes so we snack from it. The adults never realized). And then he put the knife here hoping there would be another check so that Miles would be blamed.” (Y/N) shrugged. “His first hiding place must have been pretty bad for him to assume that would happen, but I guess he technically didn’t turn out to be wrong.”

            “(L/N)!” Another social worker, Miss Ross, gasped and pulled them back. She had let them and the other curious kids watch from farther back, but (Y/N) interrupting horrified them. “Don’t interfere official police investigations!”

            (Y/N) sighed tiredly as they were led away for detention.

Sherlock watched and turned to Lestrade. “George, I want to foster that one. Their potential is waster here.” He turned with a whoosh of cost and began walking out. “Oh, and arrest Lillis. It was him.”

            Lestrade sighed and motioned to his officers to go to Lillis’s office. One problem at a time. Arrest the murderer, then talk Sherlock out of trying to take in a kid.

            He only got one job done that night.

Author's Notes:

Hello, and welcome to A Study of the Heart and Brain, a Father Figure! Sherlock x Teen! Reader! As with every book, here are just a few announcements:

1) I am undecided on any romance, but if there is any, it will be with an OC that is of an appropriate age. There is nothing but platonic or familial relationships with the adults.

2) Updates are Mondays and Fridays. I will update until this book is finished, and then I go to another series.

3) I love interacting with readers, so please comment, I love responding to them.

Please enjoy, everyone! -Mouse

#a study of the heart and brain #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x teen reader #sherlock x teen!reader #sherlock holmes #x teen reader #teen reader #x teen!reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #father figure #found family trope #found family #bbc sherlock

[americas1suiteheart]

Can I Lay In Your Bed All Day?

Patrick Stump x Reader

Here's the Ao3 link if you prefer to read on there!!

Summary; No summary, just some tooth rotting fluff.

Notes; I literally came up with this while listening to Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner so this was quickly thought up.

Warnings; None, no profanity or anything.

<Now playing - Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner by Fall Out Boy>

0:49 ───ㅇ────── 3:20

It had been the late weeks of autumn as it got closer to winter, and it was getting colder and colder in Chicago everyday and the wind was becoming more fierce by the passing hours. Unfortunately the radiator, which was probably older than your parents, didn't warm your room or house up all that much and stopped very often, so you would just have blankets piled up on top of you.

Thankfully, your best friends had working heaters that ran throughout their houses, and they were very kind to let you stay at their place for a couple hours or even stay the night when it was coldest.

"Hey, Patrick. Thank you so much for letting me come over, I think this was the coldest it's been so far, I would've frozen to death!" You joke, standing at Patrick's doorstep, bundled up all sorts as it was 20 some degrees outside.

"Yeah, of course Y/n. You know you're always welcome here, come in before you freeze." Patrick says with a smile on his face, closing the door after you'd already gone inside.

You take all of your coats and scarf off and hang them on his mom's coat rack, a spot always there for yours because of how often you were there now.

"Patrick, is that Y/n?" Patrick's mom called out from the kitchen.

"Yeah, they're here, mom!" Patrick called back.

You followed behind him into the kitchen and went to hug his mom when you saw her.

"Hey, Ms Stumph. How have you been?"

"Hey, Y/n. I've been the same since the last time you saw me 2 days ago. How about you, hon?" She joked.

"That's good. I've been cold, that's about the same it's been, though." You laugh.

Patrick smiled. He loves how you and his mom get along so well and how you two already knew each other well enough to be so close.

"Good thing it's nice and warm in here then. Alright, you two go and hang out, I'm making lunch now and I'll call you two over when it's done."

"Alright, mom. Thank you." Patrick says, hugging her.

Patrick begins walking out of the kitchen and you follow behind him, giving Ms Stump a thank you before leaving.

Patrick's house was always so homey. The brown carpet played throughout the floors of the home, the old brown wooden panels on the walls, and even the smell an old house has.

Patrick enters his room and sits on his bed, you going and sitting next to him.

"Do you want a blanket?"

"Please." You say, smiling at Patrick.

Patrick gets up and goes into his closet, pulling out a big blue and grey blanket.

"Here, both of us could share it." Patrick says, throwing the blanket at you and falls onto the bed.

You unfold it, that is if you could even call it folded when it was just lazily balled up, and spread it out, laying it on top of Patrick and it wrapped around you, still sitting up.

"Lay down, dude." Patrick laughs, patting the space next to him.

You'd always had a little crush on Patrick since you first became close friends with him that only grew every time you saw him or even just simply interacted with him whether it be on the phone or in person.

You lay next to him and get under the blanket more, looking at the ceiling covered with glow in the dark stars. (AN: You can't tell me he wouldn't have those little glow in the dark stars on his ceiling I mean, come on it's so him.)

It was now so much warmer than before, Patrick's warmth was radiating off of him and being under the blanket make it even warmer, and it didn't make it any different from how hot your face probably was at the moment.

The two of you just stayed under the blanket for what felt like forever, but you wouldn't complain about it and say you didn't like it.

"This is nice. We should do this more often, especially when it's gonna get colder in the winter." Patrick said, turning his head to face you.

"I agree." You prop up your head on your arm, now looking down at Patrick.

His eyes, oh my gosh, his eyes. It was always so nice to look into them, the colour was like one you've never seen before, it was his colour.

Suddenly there were two knocks at the door. "Lunch is ready if you two are hungry." Ms Stump says.

"Okay, thank you, mom!" Patrick shouts to make sure she heard.

You and Patrick stay in the same spot for a few more minutes, it becoming slightly more awkward as the minutes passed.

"Um, do you wanna go eat?" Patrick said, clearing his throat after sitting up.

You nod in response, getting off of his bed and following him behind as he did the same and headed into the kitchen.

Two bowls of tomato soup and two grilled cheese sandwiches sat on a paper plate on top of the counter. It was such a comfort food for you, and it was going to be so much better because of the cold.

--------------------------------------------

You and Pattick layed on his bed under the covers, it was still cold for you somehow, despite the heater being on and being under a blanket.

You debated on asking Patrick if you could get another one, but figured it'd be too much to ask for. Even if you two have been friends for a while, you were still hesitant and nervous on asking him of something, regardless of how many times he'd assured you it was fine and to not worry.

Appearantly you were being obvious about the fact that you were still cold.

"Are you still cold? Do you want me to see if I have any more blankets?" Patrick said, sitting up.

"No, no it's fine. Please just, please lay back down its warmer that way." You say, hesitantly saying the last part.

Patrick looks at you, mouth slightly agape. He had an expression on his face that you couldn't exactly pinpoint, wasn't a bad one, but that's only based off of what you were seeing.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Um, totally." Patrick awkwardly says, his face slightly flushed as he laid back down underneath the blanket.

You don't even know if you were still cold at the moment, the scent of Patrick was filling your nose and it was the only thing you could think of now.

Patrick shivers slightly under the blanket, as the heater had just turned off a few minutes ago, and covers himself a little more.

You slowly scooched closer to Patrick, being no more than an inch away from him.

You continue to just stare at the stars on Patrick's ceiling. Noticing some of them were put on in the order of some constellations and you smile to yourself. He's so perfect in every way. He had a few shelves full of action figures and some lego star wars ships sitting on other shelves across the room. His room was small so it amazed you how much he was able to fit in his room, but he did it in a somewhat organized manner.

Patrick turns around and drapes one arm over your torso. You freeze for a few seconds, but quickly get comfortable to the feeling.

"Is this okay? I should've asked I'm sorry." Patrick says taking his arm off, his voice a little over the volume of a whisper.

"No, you're fine, please stay." You say, turning your body towards him.

You laid, cuddled into Patrick's chest as he held you, drawing shapes on your back and humming some song you didn't know.

You felt your eyes begin to get heavy, and soon enough you fell asleep. You'd definitely have to do this more often now.

<Now press "Repeat"- Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner by Fall Out Boy>

3:20────────ㅇ 3:20

Towards the end I had NO CLUE what to do with it, so it's a little weird, sorry about that. This one was fun though.

#patrick stump x reader #patrick stump #Pre album fob #fob AU #fall out boy #pre hiatus fob #gender neutral reader

[itsjustsemantics]

Love, Javier - chpt: 4

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader/OFC (no y/n, no physical description, established backstory, no clear age gap mentioned)

Content and warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, flirty waitress, casablanca!talk, Vintage diner and banter baby!!

ps- i love diner music :p

Series masterlist

Chapter 4: The Diner 

“Stay?” You exclaimed, taking your wide eyes off of the road for a second to give Javier a look of disbelief. 

“Of course she wants to stay.” Javier retorted. “Wouldn't you rather end up with Humphery Bogart than the other guy?” He searched his mind for the name, none popped up. Further convincing him that he in fact, was right. 

The sun had set and the sky had turned a purplish hue and after a couple shifts and cat naps, what started off as a harmless conversation about Casablanca (courtesy of one of David Letterman’s talk show episodes) had turned into a heated disagreement. 

Javier watched you pull into a parking space between two beaten up cars in front of an old, 24 hour diner with a disgruntled huff. Javier exited the car a few seconds prior to you, letting you fix a couple of stray strands of hair in the visor. 

The diner was located at a rather run down pit stop, the kind you would usually stay away from, especially at this ungodly hour. But since it was located at one of your silly red crosses, you had to make a stop. Even through the window javier could make out the torn leather seats; the deep cherry red colour not as bright as it should’ve been.

“I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life, married to a man who runs a bar.” You exited, still riled up, making him tear his gaze away from the spotted window and onto you. “I know that sounds snobbish to you but-” You took a second to slap the car door shut.

“So you’d prefer a passionless marriage.” Javier calmly stated.  

“-And I'd be the first lady of czechoslovakia.” You added. 

“So you’d leave the man you’ve had the greatest sex of your life with simply because he owns a bar.”

“Yes.” You nodded after a second, bringing in your windbreaker towards your chest, shielding away the chill. “And so would any woman in her right mind. We’re all very practical- even Ingrid Bergman,” You turned towards him knowingly, “Which is why she gets on that plane.” You exhaled. “So there.” 

“I get it,” Javier shrugged, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets and elongating his strides. 

“You get What?” You retorted, scurrying after him. 

“Nothing.” He shook his head, a hint of a smile on his face.

“What?” You droned, for the second time as the both of you reached the entrance to the greasy looking diner. The floor was chequered black and white, a thin layer of grime coating it and a jukebox in the far corner playing ‘Darlene’ by T. Graham Brown, the static getting in the way of most of the music. 

“Obviously, you haven’t had great sex yet.” Javier stepped aside dramatically and held the door open for you. He watched you gape at him incredulously for a few seconds before un-creasing his brow and walking in first himself. 

Javier had only been in the car with you for around twelve odd hours and he refused to believe that the woman who now stood scanning the shit pile diner for an acceptable booth, represented the wider population of women. Javier knew women. What you were, he had no idea.  

You were far too meticulous and high strung to have had good sex. Too uptight. You had every hour of the eighteen hour drive planned out to a T and as he had seen earlier on your date and then more recently at lunch, you could take even the most simple orders and turn it into something complex and barely comprehensible. It was honestly quite shameless.

Even now, the minute you had arrived at the diner you forgot about your disagreement and previewed every single booth before choosing a ‘clean’ one to sit at. Even if you chose the other guy, (who Javier had figured out was Paul Henried) it wouldn't matter, there was no way he would last even a minute dealing with your uptight nonsense, forget Humphery Bogart. 

He slumped into the leather seat of the booth, the material squeaking softly as he did so and watched you do the same, of course before inspecting the seat for unknown stains or residue. 

“I've had brilliant sex, for your information.” Javier watched you pick up the menu and scan the contents. He leaned forwards in his seat, upper body resting on his forearms folded across the table. 

“Tell me then.” he craned his neck over the line of the menu to get your attention. “Who did you have this brilliant sex with?” He watched you slam the menu down against the table and raise your eyebrows.

“I’m not going to tell you that.” you bit back. He leaned back into his seat, his tongue running along the bottom of his mouth while yours curled into an embarrassed frown. 

“Fine, don’t tell me.” He swiped the menu from underneath your palms and lazily dragged his eyes across it. The Judds playing raspily in the background filled the silence. 

The both of you turned towards an energetic ‘hi!’ and you smiled, ready to place your order. Your smile faltered when you saw the waitress drinking in Javier’s arms. She was very pretty with red lipstick that matched her checked apron and her luscious ebony hair falling down the length of her shoulder in fluffy curls. 

“Hey there.” Javier said, bedazzling her with his charming smile. She caught her bottom lip between her straight teeth and changed her position, accentuating her chest. 

“What can I get ya.” She smiled. Javier’s eyes left hers for a brief second and saw you rolling yours and busying yourself with another menu while he gave her his order; completely ignoring the events unfolding in front of you. 

“I’ll have the number 3, and a black coffee, no sugar.” Javier turned back to the waitress and smiled. She then turned to you, not quite with the same smile. Javier adjusted his jeans and leaned back into his seat, extending his arms over the rim, waiting to hear what lengthy instructions you had in store this time. 

And just like at the restaurant where he had first heard it, he couldn't help but be intrigued by the whole thing. 

“I’d like the chef's salad please, but with the vinaigrette, not the honey mustard, on the side. And I'll also have your apple pie.” 

“Okayy,” The waitress did a quick job of scribbling it down. 

“Wait-” You said, putting down the menu and folding your arms across the table. The waitress half turned, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.  “I’d like the pie heated and I don’t want the ice cream on top, I want it on the side and I'd like a berry flavour if you have it, instead of the vanilla; if you don’t then no ice cream at all and whipped cream instead.” Just when the waitress thought you were finished, you started again, much to Javier’s amusement. “But, only if it's real, if it’s out of a can, then nothing.” 

“Not even the pie?” The waitress  

“No, just the pie, not heated.” You finished, as if she had asked the most stupid question. 

“Uh huh.” The waitress ran her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She gave Javier one last longing look as she strutted away, hips and all. 

Javier stared at you, trying to look for something he clearly couldn't find. His eyes broke away for a second, stealing a sneaky glance at your waitress behind the counter waving at him. 

“What.” you asked and with the way you rolled your eyes, he guessed you got this look a lot at restaurants. 

“Nothing, nothing.” He smiled as he leaned back into the leather. “It's just interesting that's all.” 

“What’s interesting?” You arrowed your eyes in his direction. 

“This is what I meant, in the car.” he leaned forwards suddenly. “This is why you’ve never had good sex.” 

“My ordering?” You folded your arms across your chest and pursed your lips. 

“Not just the ordering.” He said, “You’re far too meticulous to enjoy sex.” 

“Shel Gordon.” You cleared your throat. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Shel Gordon is the great sex I've had.” You pronounced. 

“Shel- Sheldon?” Javier snorted. “You did not have great sex with sheldon.” 

“Did too.” You retorted. 

“Sheldon is your income tax guy, not your sex guy.” Javier shook his head. 

“Your salad.” The waitress slid a plate carelessly onto your side, “And the number 3.” she smiled, lowering the plate onto Javier’s. “Let me know if you need anything else.” The waitress drawled seductively, running her fingers across the table as she made her way to the next table. 

“It’s the name,” Javier continued, “it just doesn't work.” He bit into his fries. 

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I've heard.” You dug into your salad, looking for the bits of chicken and Javier shrugged taking a large bite out of his sandwich. 

He chewed slowly and swallowed before taking a pause and looking towards you again. “Do it to me, sheldon. You’re an animal, sheldon.” He stressed on the name each time. 

You paused and looked at him, mouth still full from the chicken you had found. Your eyebrows knit together creating tiny creases between them. 

“Ride me big, sheldon.” He completed, clearly making his point. “It just doesn’t work.” He rested his jaw against his fist and leaned, while his other hand lazily swirled some fries in the puddle of ketchup on his plate. Watching you swallow your chicken, and some of your pride. 

“You’re unbelievable.” You finally said, not being able to think of anything clever. You dug into your salad with more gusto, fork clattering against the bottom of the plate and mouth intentionally overfull to avoid conversation.

Javier watched you, cheek still resting on his fist. He had thought you were pretty even before meeting you. Javier had recognised you from family pictures Steve had shown him back in Columbia when they were killing time on a stakeout, surprising himself as to how well he remembered them. Those did no justice whatsoever to how you looked in person. One of them was outside what Steve had said was Connie’s parents place, you were in a denim halterneck, mini dress; all legs. Right in front of the large grill that was being tended to by Steve’s dad alongside Connie, Steve and another man. Javier’s thoughts drifted for a second. Sheldon perhaps. 

Although a complete pain in his ass, Javier couldn’t ignore the fact that you were nothing short of incredibly attractive; He was a man after all. He knew the minute he saw you on the curb, those fucking shorts securing against your thighs were going torture him the entire drive. 

“I really don't get it,” Javier said, “I’m not trying to come onto you. Rest assured. You’re-” He gestured to the top half of you, your mouth still bulging with food. “-An empirically attractive person. Despite your…quirky traits.” He paused to take a bite of his sandwich. “I don't get why you have to make life so difficult for yourself? Good sex should come easy to you.” 

You stopped chewing altogether and Javier wondered if you were aware of the fact. 

“Is good sex all you think about?” The question came after you had finished swallowing. The jukebox now played ‘our love is here to stay’ , the one by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. 

“You forget whiskey.” Javier brought the cup of coffee to his lips. “I thought Connie told you.” He raised his eyebrows teasing, and took a sip, sucking the coffee that had dripped down onto his thumb with a smooch.  

~

After splitting the bill, the both of you flopped into the car, Javier taking the driver’s seat this time. He pushed open the console and stuck a cigarette between his lips, making a quick job of lighting it.

“Have you thought about what would have happened if Ilsa and Rick never actually slept together?” You fastened your seatbelt and Javier checked the rearview mirror. “Do you think they could’ve just been good friends?” 

“No.” His answer was plain and simple. 

“Why not?” You discarded your shoes and brought your feet up onto the seat, checking the map on the visor and then your watch. 

“Men and women can never be friends.” he stated coolly as he reversed the car, eyes still focused on the mirror. 

“That’s quite the claim.” You laughed. “Dare I ask why?” 

He shrugged, switching the gears, “The sex always gets in the way.” 

“That’s not true” You scoffed, shaking your head “I have a number of male friends and there is no sex involved.” 

Javier shook his head. “No you don’t.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, each followed by a small cloud of smoke.

“Yes I do.” He shook his head again, as if his theory wasn’t up for debate which caused you to frantically turn to him nodding. “Yes I do!”

“You only think you do.” 

You laughed incredulously. “So you’re saying I'm sleeping with these men without my knowledge?” 

“No, what I'm saying is they all want to have sex with you.” 

“How do you know?” You creased your eyebrows. 

“Chica, we’ve been over this, I know how-” 

“Men operate.” You mocked, rolling your eyes. 

“Yes, exactly. A man cannot be friends with a woman he finds attractive.” 

You laughed, “Ha! So you’re saying a man can be friends with a woman he doesn’t find attractive then.” Javier shook his head, for the third time. 

“No, they pretty much want to sleep with them too.” You turned to him, appalled. 

“I find it rather amusing that you think every man is cad.” You slapped your hands against the tops of your thighs. “You’d be surprised to find that, some of them actually do care about platonic relations with the opposite sex.” 

“I know you think Colin or your male ‘friends’ are above it all,” His tone made quotes over ‘friends’ “but trust me, they’ve all thought about having sex with you at some point or the other and sooner or later they’re going to articulate it.” Javier could tell his words had sunk in a little bit more, with your prolonged silence. 

“What if I don’t want to have sex with them?” You raised an eyebrow curiously. 

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “The sex thing is already out there and hence the friendship has already gone to dog shit, end of story. Men and women can't be friends.” A truck honked beside you causing you to jump in your seat. 

“So you don’t have any female friends?” You asked, tone bordering on pity, remnants of disbelief still hung on your words. 

“Nope.” Javier said, smacking his lips on the ‘p’ 

“Let me guess, it got in the way.” You teased. 

“Yes.” He turned to you. “It got in the way.”  

“I’m still not convinced by the fact that you think all men are as perverse as you are.” You wrinkled your nose and Javier grinned. 

“I don't think, chica, I know.” 

You muttered something under your breath softly and Javier turned back to the road. You reached over and flicked the radio on to a random station and ‘everybody wants to rule the world’ came on. You smiled to yourself and leaned against the window on your side, your feet tapping softly to the beat. 

The rest of the ride flew by with you asleep and Javier covering some of your last shifts entertained by your soft snoring and the monotonous chatter of a news broadcasting on the radio. By the time you reached your friend Amanda’s neighbourhood the sun was just peeking out from behind the clouds. Javier had made good time, despite your prior estimates. 

“Thanks for the ride.” You yawned, dragging the last of your suitcases onto the curb in front of Amanda’s building.  “It was…enlightening.” You said, your hands finding your hips to rest on. 

“It was.” Javier said, bordering on a yawn- courtesy of the extra hours he had to drive. He dropped your bag next to your small suitcase. You muttered a small sorry in response which he waved off, covering the yawn with his knuckles. 

“Have a safe drive.” You said, finally as he made his way back to the driver’s seat, almost begrudgingly, his legs stiff from the last couple of hours. 

“I’ll see you then.” he chopped the air in a small wave with his car keys and ducked into the vehicle. 

You watched his car slowly merge with the other ones on the road, “See you.” 

~0o0~

A/N: heya, sorry for missing yesterday's update. Although I have an exam tomorrow, I was too excited about this chapter and had to post an update. (all those taking your as/a level examinations I feel you T-T)

Speaking of missing updates, I'm travelling 9th and 10th, so I'll only post when I reach or a few days after. Do stick around, I assure you, I'm not going ANYWHERE. As usual, don't forget to leave a note and check out the other chapters :)) They're on my profile <3

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier pena fic #javier peña/reade #javier pena fluff #javier pena narcos #javier pena imagine #javier pena slow burn #pedro pascal #trending #andom #pedro pascal gif #pedro pascal fanfiction #when harry met sally #the ugly truth #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x ofc #javier peña x y/n #narcos fanfiction #steve murphy #fanfic #narcos #no y/n #fanfiction #slow burn

[akitothemightydorito]

YES HELLO INFODUMP PLS AND THANK U I wish to know about reader design, and designs in general, and also all the other characters (very curious about u mentioning Gregory - how is the chaos gremlin gonna show up, I need to know)

Info dump pt.1

YESS FINALLY!!! I GET TO INFO DUMP RAHHHH!!!!

So I did mention that Gregory would be introduced and we do in fact have an early concept of him when the prologue and other chapters were fleshed out (by the way art isn’t mine!! It’s my co-writers !!)

Here are two drawings of him! The one of the left is one “before he was trapped on island” and “After a while he was on the island” 2 years before reader to be exact which doesn’t really show much other than he’s a sneaky little bugger when reader encounters him. And oh boy is he a nuisance! Before the main plot begins Gregory was stranded after Eclipse attacked the ship he was on that he sneaked on to get away from the orphanage he lived in and pretty much was caught in the unfortunate event of Eclipse taking notice.

You could say Gregory was in a similar boat to the reader (I’m funny I swear-) and was saved somehow he survived drowning. Gregory eventually comes across Freddy and long story short he gets adopted by the giant grizzly (I’ll show size comparison soon !!) and becomes the local menace. Like, bro literally now thinks he’s invincible with Freddy by his side!? Mess with Monty and enter his territory? Freddy is there to quickly deescalate the territorial croc and remove Gregory as soon as he gets word, Greg is given a stern talking to for the nth time now. Oh what’s that? Gregory is provoking Roxy and Chica again? DAMMIT GREGORY WE DONT NEED MORE FIGHTS (context: Roxy and Chica aren’t on good terms early on due to competing for the same territory for the open plains)

All in all I think you can guess a few ways Gregory might make a first impression on the reader >:3

Okay moving onto Freddy!! The father bear himself! So I don’t remember all heights of the characters off by heart and the part where I discussed them is waaaaaayyyyyy back in a chat so until I get it I’m gonna try and estimate on what faint memory I have! Freddy is based of a brown grizzly and has a human like figure but mixed in with bear with lots of fur! His lightning marks and stripes have been turned into scars from an old conflict, of what? We don’t know since not even Gregory can pry it out from him….maybe it’s reluctance??

Here is some of the concepts! I’ll show the size difference below separately!! But yeah I hope this helps get an idea of what he’s supposed to look like!! Freddy is also known to keep the peace’s between everyone (and to keep Gregory in check-). He’s a friendly fellow but…he wasn’t always so tame before…never mind!

HABSHEINEBSUW EVERY TIME I SEE THIS I WANNA JUST SQUEEZE WHATEVER IS CLOSET RAHHH-

Freddy is basically the best to give out cuddles and a great napping partner, rivaled by DJ Music man though!

NOW I’m just gonna quickly move onto the MC themselves, Y/n!! OMG I AM SO EXCITED!! as you have probably seen in the prologue of EOTE (eyes of the eclipse. Shorter title) then you know that reader is German in WWII but!! They aren’t exactly one to see eye to eye with the views on Jews and so they vowed to help any Jew they could escape the county and basically be a human smuggler for Jews! The design I showed where reader is in a trench coat actually is what they use to get around, find sources of where Jews are being transported etc. basically just a disguise out of their Dad’s cloths. Reader also worked in a factory like some people did wearing overalls since both men and woman wore them during the mid 1930’s! (Same can also be said for Gregory’s clothes but for the early 30’s)

Headcannon: since Y/n and Gregory are both from Germany and speak both English and German, they like to confuse the others on the island on purpose by suddenly switching languages mid conversation! They also say curses in German either as a reflex or accident if it makes sense

I just find my own little HC funny hehe.

Next up we have Roxy!!! She actually is one character I remember the height for exactly and the reason I can remember Eclipse’s as well lol. She’s actually an astounding 7’3 when on her hind legs. The reason for her very tall height is because she is based off one of these:

RED MAINED WOLVES BABY!!! this also makes sense as to why she’s alone and doesn’t want to have a pack as well as wanting to have the plains for herself as she feels more in her element in taller grass! He legs and paws also have that same gradient of black fur going on as well as her having a puffy mane and fur. I also may or may not have said she is able to run top speed when she runs on all fours thus being a good way to scare reader :p

Like I mentioned she is able to walk and run on all 4’s just like she can on two legs but she prefers going on all 4’s though. Makes her hunts more easier and keep that pesky bird out her DAMMN Territory!! >:/

Only have 1 rough sketch of her so far since reader is yet to encounter Roxy or anyone else haha but here take in the tall maned beauty in all her glory! :D

Her more early concepts. Might have more added to her soon though 👀 (shhh!)

She isn’t one for being all that social and is Gregory’s #2 target whenever he feels like causing issues and risking his life. She also sometimes accidentally stumbles across Chico’s territory a few times which leads to a few scuffles and chase outs between the two so no one’s really surprised, Freddy manages to stop them before things get rough tho!!

Okay I have some juice left to dump about 1 more character before I pass out! ITS DJMM!!!! AHHHH so, so…He is a HUGE Drider that lives in a cave deep in the forest of the island. I have a few sketches but I can’t find them at the moment but in my next info dump I’ll be sure to get them! So basically he gives the vibe a jumping spider would: Harmless and sweet! Which is true when he’s Docile and unthreatened but when that changes he can show off his huge venomous fangs that can paralyze and even be lethal depending on dosage. Did I mention he also has soft fuzz on his boddy but not entirely covering his carapace? No? Oh well yeah he does but that also plays part in his threatening stance! He has the ability to shoot out barbed hairs out just like a tarantula (I physically shivered when I typed that, ugh!) but also be wary for his webs! Not only are his fangs and fluff a problem but also his webs! They have the consistency of a Golden ord weaver: strong and resilient but also soft and silky so if you’re caught, you’re trapped there for good!

Another small detail I wanna mention is the mini Music man’s in the SB game that chase you through the vents have basically become a cluster of mini driders (perhaps some young MM adopted ??) and so he is basically a protective father over all of them so anything coming their way is a threat on sight! You enter the cave without him knowing and your done for pal, game over!! >•<. Also, Also MM doesn’t speak verbally but he does communicate through chirps and other vocal sounds he’s able to make like clicks as well!! (He’s so sweet!!)

Okay that’s part 1 of this info dump done but I got more coming this way!! I got Monty, Chica, Sun, Moon and Eclipse to do next!!

#fnaf fandom #fnaf moodrop #mythical monster island au #fnaf gregory #fnaf au #fnaf sb #fnaf eclipse #mer eclipse #afab nonbinary #afab reader #glamrock freddy #five nights at freddy's #Freddy is just a very big bear and I love him!! #gregory fazbear #Gregory is also German like reader #he is also a menace for no reason whatsoever #he also has no life preservation either #Lost In The Eyes Of The Eclipse #fanf moon #LITEOTE #info dump #this is my first ever info dump so sorry if it’s a little disorganized and all over the place lol #Akito’s AU’s - FNAF

[knowltonsrangers]

wager

Thomas Knowlton x reader

[a/n: you know?? this man right here??? a love.]

Thomas, regarding himself, knew he was a shoot first ask questions later kinda guy. Something in his heart, or maybe his gut, never strayed him wrongly, so whenever it came to those rapid fire decisions he was faced with, he’d hardly ever bat and eye.

This, however. This was beyond any scope of decision, any attempt to debate the subject would have his blood pressure rising significantly once more.

If there was one thing that brought a smile to his face, it was that happy grin of yours. You were always smiling, eyes bright and full of life. Sometimes, he’d grumble about how he was ‘too old for you’, but you’d always shoot him down, rather quickly, to his surprise.

Now, more than ever, his fatherly instincts have become the central front of his thoughts.

The only thing he can do, is sit here and stroke a large, calloused hand through your hair, reassuring you with his presence the best he can. There’s no doubting that by morning, whomever did this to you, would be hearing an earful from him.

However, in this moment, he’s content (although it’s a severely mild form of the emotion. He is anything but happy right now), with holding you and kissing the crown of your head every so often.

“y/n?”

Thomas mutters softly, once he’s realized the tears that he’s been pushing aside have ceased.

Clearly, you’re not ready to talk yet, and that’s okay. There wasn’t any conversation, anything you could do to convince Thomas this was just a ‘good cry’.

Rather adamant about it, the minute he saw you curled up in the bed, he was all over you, fingers pulling your hands away from your face as you turned away in shame.

“Doll—what happened? Are ya hurt?!”

With his brown eyes roaming to every possible angle of your body, he grunts as he can’t find any source of physical pain.

He never was good with dealing with his own internal problems, so dealing with others was new territory for him.

But he’d never been kinder. Thomas may be outwardly gruff at times, but he also possesses a gentle soul. He’d sit here forever and ask you what he could do to help you.

He’d carry you under his arm to the ends of the Earth, if needed be.

Here, now, is why you can’t understand why he’d ever put up with your nonsensical bullshit.

“Gotta be hungry, doll face.”

His arms are warm, and he smells strongly of the outdoors. He must have never changed his coat before he had found you.

Fighting to even out your breathing, you reach down and grab his hand, moving it so you can kiss each of his knuckles softly.

“Wassat for?”

“I don’t know why you put up with me, Thomas.”

To this, he is greatly offended.

“‘Cause I love ya, y/n. Why the hell else?”

You pause, running your other hand under your eyes to try and relax yourself.

“You put up with me, ‘course I’m gonna do the same for you, y/n.”

Thomas hand comes to cradle your face, thumb pressing gently on your chin so you can’t turn away from his intense stare.

“And you don’t cry on the drop o’ a dime, either, so don’t try and pass this as some kinda joke.”

It almost makes you want to laugh, the way knew exactly what you were thinking.

“You…might not understand.”

Your eyes flicker upwards briefly to meet his, and to your utmost surprise, he’s smiling down at you, the most meek thing you’ve seen him do in a while.

“Try me, y/n.”

You bite.

And he was right, he usually always is.

It makes your heart thrum wildly, the way he talks, waiting until you had poured every single ounce into your painfully long explanation. You’re sure he’s ready to roll his eyes, grumble about ‘getting to the point’, but he never does. When you are done, you briefly look his way, and he’s already looking right at you.

A frown on his face, but nonetheless he is still listening. Listened to every. word.

“Wish you woulda came and got me.”

Thomas scratches his scruff, a tad perplexed, and unable to find his next words of wisdom.

“Don’t like the thought of you sittin’ here for so long, so upset.”

About to reassure him, opening your mouth to say “I’ve done worse,” and he beats you straight to it.

“That’s not any better, y/n.”

He envelopes you once more, chin atop your head as he gives you the biggest squeeze. If it was for yourself, or for himself, he would never disclose.

“Let’s talk this out, yeah?”

You swallow thickly, but nod your head yes nevertheless.

“And next time, ya come and get me, the min’ it goes down.”

Peering up, you realize he’s sticking his pinky out towards you.

“Promise?”

He asks.

You link your fingers, shaking them firmly before you let go.

“Promise.”

[a/n: HE WOULD TREAT ME RIGHT. HE WOULD TREAT US ALL RIGHT.]

#sul writes #you deserve to be happy #thomas knowlton #the dreamer comic #Thomas knowlton x reader #mans #this mans got me #🥺🥺 #rn

[lemonde-enchante]

Yabouki × reader

That was a thunderstorm night, you were running searching for a shelter to dry yourself.

You found a little place to stay for the night, in the middle of two close detached houses, under two roofs, not the best choice but better than nothing.

"God. Why me?", you mumbled to yourself, "I'm going to get sick if I don't get dry soon... it's so damn cold here", you tried to cover yourself with an old blue jacket that you always bring with you.

You don't have an house to stay in, you've always been a wanderer who had to suffer injustices after another. A french girl without an house, what a bad life you have to live! Tonight you were running away from two robbers who were trying to steal your little bag with the little money you have. You wondered why those bad guys wanted to steal a poor girl like you.

You were out of breath for the long run you've did, you leaned against a wall to take breath when suddenly you saw a big shadow of a man in the dark of the night, with not a reassuring appereace, walking towards you. Meeting his threatning look, you get scared and step back, "Hey, stay back! What do you want from me?", you stutter in fear, "who are you?"

"Calm down dude", the man spoke to you, "I'm not going to harm you, especially to a fascinating girl like you". You did not respond to them but stood surprised. The man approaches you, revealing himself under the light of a street lamp. He didn't look that dangerous like you thought, but not too trusting at the same time.

The man was shorter than you, you assumed he was middle-aged, had a chubby body, a dark brown skin shade, short and thin mustache, he wore a hat on his curly red hair, he got both his hands in the pockets of his coat, and holding a cigar in his sly looking smile.

"I was looking for a tall blonde girl, with a red dress, walking around with a talking cat and a dog, have you see them?", the man asked you, then he took a breath from his cigar he held between index and middle finger, and puffs the smoke out his mouth.

You gulped and answered shooking your head saying no, "mmh I see...", the man sighs looking down, then he looks you right in the face with a straight penetrating look, then an other big smirk apperead on his face. You shivered thinking, oh god why is he looking at me like that? It's so unconfortable and scary...

"Oh well, nevermind, see you ", as he turned away from you, a big tail came out of his big coat , "oh shoot!", he tried to hide it somehow hastily, "So you're a Tanuki", "heh, yeah...", the man smiled anxiously and he was going to run away, but you grabbed him from his cloth, "Wait! Don't run away please..." you ordered him with an hint of melacholy in your tone. The tanuki man stopped and looked at you with curiosity and surprise, "You look really cute to me please stay..."

"Well", The man turned serious again, adjustinng himself and this time ignoring his tail out of his pants, "Wanna take a night walk with me?", he invites you heartily, making a comfortable smile.

You got sweeten by his cute manners, "Oh, you can get under my umbrella, ma chère", he giggled, your face heaten up as he calls you like that "thank you" you whispered him, before getting under his umbrella.

"Can I ask what's your name?", "my name's Y/n ad yours?", you asked, "Yabouki, pleasured to meet you dear Y/ n", you smiled and started to walk under the rain with your new friend.

Author note:

Here's my first fic and yes, I changed it a bit from the chapter I've written. This is what looks like a story written by me. Any type of request is accepted! ;) Anyway thanks for reading folks<3

Here's the link to the story in question eheh!

Bye for now!

#mahoshoujo #hana no ko lunlun #tanuki #toei animation #fanfic #majokko

[seungsvoid]

ERA OF NEVER | R.L.

pairing — young! remus lupin x sirius’ older brother! reader

warnings — angst, swearing and mentions of death.

word count — 1,904.

notes — slightly proofread, sorry for any mistakes !

He couldn’t warm up. his body was coated in endless goosebumps as he swayed from side to side. His brown tufts of hair looked unkept and he really just wasn’t in any presentable manner at the moment. But he was here. He was back and Remus was more than excited. Excited enough to be standing outside in the freezing air in front of grimmauld place. He’d only been here because Sirius told Remus that he was back. The he in question being Sirius’ slightly older brother, Y/n.

——

You’d left after the biggest fight you ever had with your friends. They hadn’t told you about their involvement with the order and you were left questioning where they were every single day as you wandered the hallways of hogwarts by yourself. There was no sign of your brother, sirius and your mother was long dead. Regulus was missing. everyone was gone and you were so confused. You’d been there for remus through everything … so why couldn’t even he tell you what was going on?

It was winter break when you saw him again.

You were wandering down the crowded muggle sidewalk of some city in england. You hadn’t thought of where to land when you apparated — a silly choice — so here you were .. deserted in some random area without any means of contact. You hurriedly made your way down an alleyway you saw, avoiding figures that may have towered over you or looked like they could hurt you. You carried yourself well, but hated altercations, so without a sound you tried your best to get through without any problems.

On the other side of the alley there was a small tavern. The lights were on inside, which hopefully meant that it was open. your frost - bitten hand reached forward to pull open the door before entering the building. It wasn’t much warmer inside than outside but it was enough to cool your insides slightly.

An elderly woman smiled at you from behind the counter and waved, ushering you over to her. “Hello, dear. is there anything i can get you?“ She looked pretty old, maybe in her eighties but with the way she spoke, you’d have no idea if you hadn’t seen her face. “Um .. do you - by any chance - have hot chocolate?” The woman smiled and nodded, turning around behind the counter to start making the drink. You tried to shake the nerves from your body upon thinking of having chocolate again since it reminded you of remus. You still hadn’t seen him. it’d been a month and a half. merlin, were you worried.

“Here sweetheart,” she put her hand up when she saw you reach for your wallet, offering another kind smile to you, “It’s on the house. make yourself comfortable.” You nodded and dropped a couple pence into the jar that read “TIPS” in chicken scratch. The woman seemed grateful at your offer, cheeks a rosy pink as you ducked away to find a place to seat yourself.

Your hands shook as you lifted the cup to lips, heart thumping wildly in your chest as the liquid slowly made it’s warm path down your throat and into your intestines. It tasted vile but you still sent a smile over your cup to the elderly woman. You set the cup down before resting your head against your arms and taking a deep breath to calm yourself.

Fuck .. you missed him so much.

Not just him, either! For fuck’s sake, you missed Sirius as well! Hell, the whole lot of them! James, Peter, … Reglus. Regulus. Your youngest brother. You knew of him getting involved with the dark lord. Honestly, you weren’t surprised though. With your mother’s influence, it’s a miracle neither you nor Sirius had gotten involved … well you weren’t sure about Sirius but you would’ve liked to believe that he wouldn’t do that.

Interrupting your thoughts was the dingy bell that hung above the door to the tavern. ‘Huh…’ you thought, ‘ Ididn’t even notice that when i walked in ..‘ Shrugging, you lifted your head up to be greeted with the sight of three very familiar people. Your mouth dropped open, making you look very much akin to a fish at the moment. “…Remus? Sirius? James?” You didn’t even process where peter was at the moment, your brain way too overloaded with relief and minor anger at the moment to notice.

Upon hearing their names from a voice they knew all too well, they all whipped their heads around to face you. Sirius was the first to rush over to you. You sobbed in his chest and threw your arms over his chest. “I was so worried about you, N/n … I’d thought mum had done something horrible!” He cried, removing himself from the hug to cup your cheeks in a brotherly manner. Usually, you showed the affection, but he seemed like he definitely needed to. “Me? I thought you’d joined -“ you lowered your voice, “I thought you’d joined you - know - who!!”

He looked slightly taken aback at this comment but you quickly spoke again

“Well what was I supposed to think? Regulus already has. What was stopping you?!” He sighed and shook his head, engulfing you in another hug, resting his head atop yours. “I’m sorry … but i sent you a letter. Did it not get delivered?” You shook your head, wiping your eyes as they finally slitted over to James and Remus. The former pounced on you next. you were like his brother as well, so seeing you again brought so much joy inside of him. The hug from the Potter boy didn’t last long but you knew what it conveyed.

However, Remus - your boyfriend – didn’t move from his spot. He was frozen. his honey brown eyes were wide with shock, like he wasn’t processing what was happening at the moment. “Y/n…?” He’s been told you were dead by Dumbledore, so imagine his shock to see you very much alive and breathing. “Remus.” Your tone was short, venom seeping through it as you glared at the boy you once loved. “Oh my god … it’s actually you -“ “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wha -“

“You left me, Remus. You left me! You left me without an explanation. I should hate all of you, but at least Sirius and James tried to contact me. … what’s your excuse? Do … do you not love me?” You knew it was absurd to question such a thing. Or course he loved you! It was just the heat of the moment.

“No - no … Y/n not at all! I do love you! but we - the three of us … we’re working with Dumbledore … against you - know - who.” The mortified look on your face was enough to crush all of their hearts. Sirius knew you wouldn’t take this well, James did too. But Remus … he was just ready to come clean to you. A month without you and your love .. your touch was way too much for him to handle. However, they all knew that you believed working against the dark lord was nearly as bad as working for him. Either way, they’d get hurt. They knew that.

“Excuse me?!”

Your outburst frightened the woman behind the counter along with James and Remus. Sirius swore under his breath because he knew how serious it was when you actually got mad. “Y/n -“

“No, Sirius. Are you actually fucking kidding me? How stupid are you?! Your fighting a battle that is not yours! Not - not any of ours! Please guys - have some sense!” you pleaded with them, but they were already in too deep. Remus sighed, looking down at his feet. You scoffed. “Okay. wow. when you all die, don’t get mad at me. I tried telling you.” You sent one last look to Sirius before you walked out of the tavern, tears bubbling in your eyes. You were way too furious to even say goodbye.

—

Remus took a sharp inhale when the door swung open revealing Sirius. There was a solemn look in his eyes as he ushered the slightly shorter inside, giving him a tight lipped smile before shutting the door behind them both. There was yelling coming from deeper in the house and that alone made Remus’ nerves spike higher. “What’s -“

“He found out that Dumbledore had lied to you about … him dying.” The brunette’s eyes widened then he was running into the kitchen where the arguing was coming from.

“What on earth is that supposed to mean, Dumbledore?!”

Oh fuck. You had gotten slightly taller in the year you were gone, hair a bit shaggier, and body more slim. You’d definitely grown out of the awkward phase. You were an adult now. Remus was absolutely enraptured by you.

You whipped your head around to the noise of the kitchen door opening, e/c eyes wide at noticing Remus standing there with Sirius. He swallowed, hesitantly stepping forward. He could tell you were also hesitant by the way you nibbled on the inside of your cheek. Dumbledore cleared his throat and your attention was back on the old wizard again. “Y/n. You were a threat to remus and the others. You would have held them back from their true potential.”

You scoffed at that, a look of disgust pulling at your features. You looked absolutely tired. It was now when Remus noticed the dark circles under your eyes and your blotchy face. “Their true potential? Their true potential to what? Die? Because if that’s what you mean, it certainly came true with James, didn’t it?” There was a pause as you caught your breath and if Remus looked close enough, he could’ve sworn that he saw your bottle lip wobble. “Isn’t it, Dumbledore?!” you screamed, chest heaving.

“James is dead. James Potter is dead and it is all your fault! Now, Harry won’t get to grow up with his parents. Now, Sirius has to take on a child that isn’t even his!” You looked absolutely terrifying like this; eyes blown wide and face red with pure rage. You were deeply angered. How could Dumbledore put all of you through this? You were still just teenagers. “Are you done, Mister Black?”

Remus could tell that you were close to lashing out so he walked over to you without another thought, pulling you into a tight embrace. You didn’t seem to care that it had been a year since you last saw him. You sobbed into him, his fingers gently running through your hair to comfort you. “Sh .. it’s okay ..” Your body shook as he tried to calm you down, knowing his reaction was almost alike when he found out about James himself.

“I think you should leave, Dumbledore. Thank you for visiting.” Sirius spoke, watching the old wizard nod before he walked out, leaving the two young adults to comfort their grieving best friend. Right now, they were broken. But eventually, they would be fixed again. Sirius had a child to raise and he had no doubt in his mind that you and Remus would work things out again with the way you clung to him like he was your lifeline.

Everything… would be okay.

He was sure of it.

❛ TAGS ! @grfields

this work belongs to @seungsvoid , it should not be copied or reposted in any way. ©

#hp angst #marauders #remus lupin #young remus lupin #young remus lupin x reader #young remus lupin x male reader #young remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x male reader #james potter #sirius black #regulus black #harry potter universe #young marauders #remus lupin angst #marauder angst

[gingeraleluke]

𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐫𝐤

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: timothée chalamet x fem!influencer!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: timothée takes reader to see new york for the first time!

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: prop weapons, like one swear word, and fluff!

part one from the 1989 series

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

never did she think that she’d see the city in person, even after her and timothée began dating. it was just too difficult of a scene to imagine herself in. the people, the lights, the noise… all much to hectic for y/n’s liking.

no, all y/n wanted to do was stay in her small house in the country where no one would bother her, but she knew she’d have to leave eventually.

‘traveling is good for the soul’, timmy would tell her. he had been trying to get her to go some place with him since they started dating over a year ago. he wanted to pop the bubble she had kept herself in over the years and show her what the real world looked like. it wasn’t just fields and cottages, but so much more, and he knew that if y/n would just see it for herself that she would fall in love with it, the same way he had.

new york was a huge part of timothée’s life, just like how y/n’s small town was a huge part of her’s. she had stripped herself completely and tore down all of her walls for him. inviting him into her house and letting him become one with her lifestyle wasn’t easy. she had never found a boy who she felt strong enough to let into her life like that. nevertheless, the small cottage she and timothée had bought was perfect. it was in the same neighborhood as her old house and was just the right distance from her family. she never understood why she would want to leave. she had everything there! but being an influencer meant going out of her comfort zone. plus, it was only fair that she let timmy open up to her the same way she did.

so they finally did it. she whipped out her camera and recorded the whole process. from waking up at 9:30am, to eating the small little apple pies at the airport, to finally landing in timothée’s hometown. she had heard many stories and scene many pictures of the city, but being there was a whole other experience.

walking through the crowd

the village is aglow

“this is insane.” her grip on timothée’s hand had tightened as they continued up the steps from the sub station. every word that left her mouth incited little giggles from her boyfriend, who was beyond excited.

as her mary jane shoes stomped up the last step, she was met with a skyline illuminating the hurried people who cluttered the streets. even at night, it was busy and flooded with people. she catched her breath and put her hands on her knees.

“you okay?” his messy brown hair looked fluffier than ever and a permanent smile was etched into his face.

“yeah! yeah, i just… it’s a lot.”

timothée’s face fell, worried that the city would be too crazy for her. maybe it was a bad idea.

“but, i think i like it.” he snapped back up at her, beaming.

“yeah?” his voice was desperate and hopeful, and his eyes searched for any dishonesty in her face.

“yeah.” y/n smiled back.

kaleidoscope of loud

heartbeats under coats

the brightness of the city was almost blinding and swirled into crystalized patterns whenever y/n squinted her eyes. there had to be hundreds of people there, yet she wasn’t overwhelmed. she could feel her heartbeat through her fingers as timmy held her hand tightly, walking through the crowds with her trailing behind him. she found it cute how he would occasionally look back at her, making sure she didn’t get swept into the current of people.

she balled her other hand up in a fist, the fabric of the sleeve she wore, burried in the palm of her hand. it was one of timothée’s jackets that he lended her after seeing how underdressed she was. her brooklyn striped sweater and her matching flannel skirt just wasn’t enough to fight the chill that the wind brought upon her skin.

“woah, babe, look!” timothée pointed ahead at a group of street performers.

everybody here wanted something more

there was a large gap of people in the road with bright orange cones surrounding the perimeter. a group of young men, all wearing matching jumpsuits, started to dance to a remix of the monster mash. people watched from afar, filming them as they took turns breakdancing.

it was the first week of october, which meant that halloween was just around the corner, and it wasn’t strange for new york city to get into the spooky season of things so quickly. deciding it would be good blog footage, she whipped out her phone and began filming.

several officers were there to make sure that no one was blocking off the road, and maneuvered the people who were passing, across the small pathway behind the crowd. as y/n took long, swift, strides, timmy’s hand never left hers, while he lead the way.

searching for a sound we hadn’t heard before

“oh, so— when am i gonna get that drink you promised me?” she smirked up at her boyfriend, after crossing the street.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t forget! i know a place down here.” they continued their walk, hand in hand.

“mmhmm, you better!” y/n teased, her eyes scanning over the countless billboards and signs above her. it was almost like a teacher taking attendance, she didn’t want to leave a single sign out of sight. different restaurant chains and model catalogs were broadcasted everywhere, and timothée couldn’t help but smile once he noticed his girlfriend’s eyes darting around everywhere.

“it’s pretty cool, right?” he questioned, even though her already knew the answer.

“um, yes!”

“you know, they have one of me up somewhere.” trying not to trip, y/n turned to him in disbelief.

and it said welcome to new york

it’s been waiting for you

“wait, seriously?” he nodded, watching her eyes light up. “what th- you have to take me! i want to see!”

“okay, okay! here, let’s get you your latte.” they pulled to the side of the street and entered a small coffee shop, right by a club. you could almost feel the vibration from the music that was blasting through its walls. the girl zoned out, looking at the night sky and buildings through the window while timmy grabbed their drinks.

“is this her first time here?” the lady behind the desk questioned, motioning over at y/n.

“yeah.” he chuckled as he tipped her. “keep the change.”

he opened the door for her, leading her back into the street as she praised her drink, “aw yes!”

“what do you say?” he questioned, his accent coming through.

“thank you.” she spoke, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. she sipped her pumpkin spice latte, her hands free from timothée’s grip for the first time in a while.

welcome to new york

welcome to new york

“okay, let’s go. i want to see if your billboard is still here!” grabbing her boyfriends hand, she dragged him back through times square, oblivious to the few fans who were taking pictures of them.

the busy streets were consumed with different sounds coming from different places, and y/n tried her best to pinpoint each one. she loved the way that the digital signs would switch from one thing to another, advertising different streaming services and car insurances.

“hi!” two brunette girls, both looking to be around sixteen, approached y/n, making her back into timothée in fear. “sorry, i don’t meant to bother you guys, but aren’t you the guy from call me by your name?”

y/n felt timmy rub her arm, as if saying ‘see, it’s just a fan’. her face softened a little, smiling at the two girls.

“yep, that’s me.” he chuckled, looking down momentarily.

“oh my god— can we have a picture with you?!” one of the girls began to jump up and down while the other one could barely make eye contact with him, too flustered to be in his presence. the girl did, however, seem drawn to y/n as she looked her up and down.

“yeah, sure! but, hey, do you guys know if my billboard is still here?” one of his arms was draped around the girl as her friend handed y/n the camera.

“oh, um… i think that there’s one still up over there, by the crosswalk sign.” she pointed back and timmy nodded in reply. y/n quickly snapped the picture, when the shy girl approached her.

it’s a new soundtrack

i could dance to this beat, beat forevermore

“hi, y/n? my name is natalie, i’m @ ghostlyy/n on twitter? you followed me back the other day..”

“oh! yeah! oh my gosh, i remember you! it’s so nice to meet you!” opening her arms, she quickly wrapped the much shorter girl into her embrace. natalie giggled nervously, her face turning red.

“i saw on your instagram that you were here, so i drove here as quick as possible-“

“aww, how sweet!” she cooed, letting the girl finish.

“i um, i bought you something to help you film your next video!” natalie pulled out a shopping bag that y/n hadn’t noticed she had.

“this is my favorite waterproof mascara, so that the next time you film a try not to cry video, you have an easier time cheating!” grabbing the small box, y/n motioned to her heart as if to say ‘i love you’.

“and these are just some glasses that i thought would match your background! and i know you love stuff like this, so… yeah!”

“thank you so, so, so much, natalie! this is so kind of you, oh my goodness..”

“can i take a picture with you?” timothée smiled as y/n shook her head yes.

the lights are so bright

but they never blind me, me

as the two fans walked away, timothee immediately grabbed the crazy glasses from her hands and put them on his face.

“what-“

“look at me!” he made a stupid pose, causing y/n to shove him. “hey! hey, watch it! you almost spilled my drink.”

they started their way back to the direction of where the girls said the billboard was, when she saw it. the creamy blue background and yellow font that hung right above her boyfriends head. her eyes began tearing up at the sight.

“hey, it’s me!” the curly haired boy, pointed.

“shhh! keep it down, silly.” taking out her camera, she filmed the sign before posing with timothee infront of it. she uploaded the picture on instagram, with the caption, ‘that’s my boy :,)’ before making their way back to the apartment they were staying in.

when we first dropped our bags on apartment floors

took our broken hearts and put them in a drawer

“we should probably bring these up to the master bed.” timothée noted, grabbing his stuff and walking up the stairs as y/n followed after him. he looked back to see her lugging her suitcase behind her, sweat beading at her forehead. they had dropped their stuff off earlier, but just left their bags in the entrance of the room, too rushed to explore the spot.

“here, i got it. you okay?”

“yeah! yeah, i’m fine… i just haven’t walked this much since high school.” she joked, taking some deep breaths before entering the bedroom.

the bed was massive with white sheets and fluffed up pillows. the apartment smelled like roasted chestnuts and marigold, making the two smile. a small dream catcher hung above them, framed north of the bed.

everybody here was someone else before

and you can want who you want

boys and boys and girls and girls

putting her socks into the drawer of the dresser, y/n could see timmy front the corner of her eye, amazed at the view from their bedroom window.

“babe, look.”

curiously she walked over, her face overcome with a smile at the sight. a large skyscraper, right beside their apartment, was covered in blazing lights. from red to purple, the building was displaying the pride flag. gasping, y/n looked down at the small group of people below them who were dancing and blasting music, waving small rainbow flags around.

timmy lightly poked her and motioned to her camera. giggling excitedly, she ran to grab the device and film the scenery for her vlog. posting a picture on her instagram story, she captioned it with “wish buildings like this were everywhere <3”.

like any great love, it keeps you guessing

like any real love, it’s ever-changing

timothée suddenly ripped his hoodie off of his body, exposing his chest and catching his girlfriend off guard. her eyes grew wide as he threw his hoodie at her, covering her face.

“HEY!” she flung it back at him as he ran down the stairs, covering his head. y/n ran after him down the stairs, stopping to kick off her shoes and tackled him. her arms were wrapped around his neck as she piggybacked him, almost knocking him over.

“hey! wait, no! stop! you’re ruining my plans.” she jumped off of him, looking up in wonder. her once abandoned eyes were now full of love and devotion as she waited for her love continue. when he didn’t, she spoke up, “what plans?”

“go back upstairs and you’ll see…” raising his eyebrows, she shrugged and walked back up the stairs, careful not to trip over the shoes she left.

“CLOSE YOUR EYES!” timmy shouted from downstairs, “OKAY!” rolling her eyes, she laid down on the bed and screwed her eyes shut, wondering what he could be doing.

like any true love, it drives you crazy

but you know you wouldn’t change anything, anything, anything

a minute passed before y/n heard the cue to open her eyes back up. fluttering her eyes open, the first thing in her line of sight was a fake knife. stifling a laugh, she shook her head and closed her eyes again.

“whatever you are doing, is stupid and i don’t want to see it.”

“NO! please, stop it, come on!” she erupted into a swarm of giggles as she felt his hands pull her up into a sitting position. “you will like it, i promise!” his voice was mumbled as he spoke.

there stood timmy in a blue jumpsuit with a michael myers mask on and a butcher knife to match. the one thing that threw the whole look off, was the giant  bouquet of flowers and skyscraper cookies that he held in his left hand. timothée had bribed a family friend to drop the basket off at their address and had been hiding them from her. he wanted everything to be a surprise. she couldn’t contain her amusement which only led timothée to do the same. they both just laughed in silence, unable to breathe or form a proper sentence. timothée snorted, ripping off the mask to see his girlfriend close to tears.

welcome to new york

it’s been waiting for you

“i’m fucking crying… oh my god!” trying to catch her breath, she quickly reached for her phone to try and snap a picture. timmy ran and snatched her phone from her, frantically shouting ‘no’.  wiping a tear from her cheek she stood up, looking him up and down.

“timothée, what is this!?”

“happy halloween! from yours truly, and the big apple!” timmy spoke, with a large grin on his face.

“why are you like this, do i need to call a psychologist?” her face was hot from laughing so hard and she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“that’s not all, look under your bed..”

welcome to new york

welcome to new york

y/n was already laughing as she got down on her knees and looked under the bed, finding a single, pathetic, apple placed beneath her. “TIMOTHÉE, WHAT?!”

laying on the ground, she lost the ability to move as she tried her best not to choke to death. she hadn’t laughed this hard in a long time. something about new york seemed to bring out the goofy side in her boyfriend and she was loving it. “I SNUCK THE APPLE FROM THE AIRPORT! IVE BEEN TRYING SO HARD TO HIDE IT FROM YOU, AND I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO GET YOU!”

timmy began to drop to the floor in tears, tossing the michael myers mask in front of her. the sight of the mask flying at her out of knowhere, made her squeal in fright. “I FORGOT ABOUT THE MASK, PLEASE!”

the lights are so bright, but they never blind me

the couple laid there, laughing on the floor. timmy straddled her and placed small kisses on her neck as they both giggled. “i’m glad you are here with me.”

it looked as if a sunset of blues and reds was spilled onto his face, as the skyline from the window shone upon them. she grabbed his hand and began to play with his fingers, “me too, michael.”

so bright, but they never blind me

welcome to new york

welcome to new york

#timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chamalet #timothée chamalet #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée imagines

[havin-a-wee]

Doctor's Orders

pairing: gynecologist!harry x reader/doctor!harry x reader

word count: 2.3k+

warnings: smut, fingering

this is so long overdue i apologize but this is a request! i kinda love this piece so i hope you guys do too!

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

You sucked in a harsh breath as you heard your name being called from the front desk, the smiley old lady gesturing for you to follow her. You timidly walked behind her, your feet shuffling on the obnoxiously patterned carpet that lined the hallways.

You aren’t one to fear doctor’s appointments, in fact, you have never been apprehensive about going to one until right now. This appointment was something you’ve been avoiding for a while since you had moved to London, but there came a point where you couldn’t put it off for any longer. Back in the states, you were comfortable with your gynecologist, and you had no issue talking to her about problems you were having regarding your genitalia. But now that you were in a new city, you didn’t have the comfort that came with visiting a long-term doctor and faced new ones for the first time since you were a child. The rest of the doctor’s visits were pretty standard, but your private parts were something you struggled with understanding, Sure, you have seen porn and had sex, but it was never a fulfilling experience. In fact, you have never reached an orgasm. About a year ago you gave up on looking for men to help you and made it a mission to bring yourself to a climax. But alas, none of your efforts seemed to work. At this point, you were convinced that something was wrong with you, hence the gynecologist visit. Male gynecologist, that is.

Over the past month, you have spent a lot of time researching gynecologists in your area. The first one that came up was the one you are at now, but considering his gender you continued your hunt. But it kept leading you back to this one doctor, Dr. Styles, and that was why you are currently sitting in an exam room in his office.

You reassured yourself by looking up his name on your smartphone, scrolling through the 5-star reviews. The number of people who seemed to absolutely love this guy helped settle your nerves, so you read through them as you waited for a knock on the door.

That knock finally arrived a few minutes later, and you picked your head up and looked at the wooden door. “Come in!”

A head popped inside from behind the door as it was pushed open, and the doctor’s eyes found yours while he made his way into the small room. He’s tall, with a mop of chocolate brown curls on his head and bright green eyes accompanied by a friendly smile. He sat down, eyes never leaving yours until he placed his computer down and the screen lit up.

“‘Ello Darlin, m’Dr. Styles, but y’can call me Harry if you’d like.” He stuck out a hand, and your palm swiftly met his, the two of you looking at one another as you shook hands. His hands were enormous, and the rings placed on his fingers were cold to the touch. “Considering you’re a new patient, I took a peek at y’records and such, and I saw that y’ve always had a female gyno.”

You nodded your head slowly, opening your mouth to respond but getting cut off by Dr. Styles. “So I just wanted t’let y’know tha’ theres nothing t’be ashamed off, and I know what I’m doin’ so I promise you’re in expert hands.”

“Yeah, I was nervous, but I couldn’t ignore the amazing reviews people have given you, so I made an appointment.” You appreciated his reassurance a lot, and it really helped in the easing of your jitters. He turned back to his computer after nodding in response to you, clicking on a few keys before diverting his attention back to you.

“So what seems t’be the problem today Y/N?” An initial wave of shock hit you when he said your name, but it quickly dissolved when you remembered that he literally has access to all your medical information, so of course, he knows your name.

“This is a bit of an odd thing to come in for on my first appointment with you, but I think my vagina doesn’t work.” You let out a breathy chuckle at your own words. Dr. Styles seemed unphased by your forwardness, and you assumed he had heard a lot more abrasive things than that. “I’m a 22-year-old woman, but I’ve never had an orgasm. For the past year I’ve been focusing on doing it without a partner, but no matter how much time I spent or how many fancy toys I buy, I just end up feeling unsatisfied and disappointed.” He nodded along as you explained your issue, placing his chin in his hand while his elbow was placed on the desk.

“Have y’had any STD tests recently?”

“Yes, I had one last week, I’m clean and I’ve never had one in the past.”

“Is there any possibility tha’ you’re pregnant?”

“No, I haven’t slept with anyone in over a year.” You knew what questions he would ask, so to avoid wasting time you were giving him all the information he would need.

“When y’are sleeping with someone, do y’feel any sort of pleasure?”

“Yeah, but it’s just never enough, I guess.” His lips curled into an expression of concentration, and he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. The room was silent for all of around 30 seconds, but soon enough Dr. Styles spoke up.

“Based on yeh’ history and what y’telling me, it seems that y’just haven’t found the right bloke.” Your eyebrows lifted in surprise at his simple answer. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? “M’guessing y’can’t get y’self off cause’ y’tense and not fully relaxed. And the guys y’ve been with ave’all been doin’ a rubbish job.” He chuckled along with you, and you couldn’t help but agree with him. There was no one you could think of that had actually made you feel good the entire time and had actually focused on your pleasure and theirs. Most of the hookups you took part in were with frat boys who would stick their dick into anything with a hole. “But just in case, lemme’ check y’out just to make sure.”

He stood up from his chair and you swung your legs up on the cot, laying down on it. While you had waited for the doctor, you changed into the gown you were provided with, so there was only a thin piece of fabric between you and the curly-headed man that had taken a seat at the end of the seat.

It was now that you were faced with a dilemma that your anxious brain hadn’t even thought of prior to the appointment.

Dr. Styles was attractive. Like, really, really attractive.

Dr. Styles was attractive. Like, really, really attractive. And probably because of the nature of your discussion (and the fact that your body is severely desperate for sexual release), your core had been heating up since he first stepped into the room. So now, he would lift the skirt of the gown and see a pool of velvety wetness coating the inside of your thighs.

The back of the seat was propped up, allowing you to see him. This was a good thing for him because he could talk to you while he does his job, but it means you will have to look at him after he sees the mess you’ve made.

“May I?” His fingers gripped onto the edges of the gown, and you swallowed hoarsely before nodding your approval. While you know that he probably has witnessed much more embarrassing situations than the one you were in right now, it didn’t make the predicament any better. As you suspected, he kept a straight face when he lifted the flimsy material from your legs. Without taking a second glance, he turned to a bottle on his desk and pumped a dollop of lube onto his glove-clad fingertips. He used his other gloved hand to spread the lubricant, only turning back to you when his two fingers were both well coated in the substance. “Y’alright?” Once again, you nodded at his question. “Tell me with words darlin’, wanna make sure y’comfortable.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What kind of exam are you doing exactly?” That question popped into your mind right before it rolled off your tongue because you noticed he had never specified exactly what he was looking for.

“M’just gonna use m’finger,” he held his lube-covered fingers, “and feel around, just t’make sure everythins’ fine.”

“Ok, sounds good.”

“M’gonna start now, s’gonna be cold at first.”

You hissed when his fingers met your sopping hole, and you had to resist the urge to kick your legs while he slowly pushed his fingers inside of you. The feeling was strange, but definitely not unwelcome. The contrast from his icy fingers to your warm center was sending a tingling sensation down your spine. You could feel his fingers push around inside of you, caressing your walls. And you know you shouldn’t. But his fingers were hitting all the right nerves, and you couldn’t help but find the experience immensely pleasurable.

Despite your best efforts, a small moan of satisfaction escaped your lips. Immediately, you went stiff, and you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. You just moaned while your doctor had his fingers inside you. For a moment you thought he would ignore the sexual noise that you had just made. But he suddenly looked up at you, his eyes previously locked on his fingers.

“Well, if y’moanin’ just from that, y’more sexually deprived than I thought.” He chuckled, and you cracked a small smile, but that was before his words actually hit you.

Was he, hitting on you?

Maybe not flirting, but that definitely wasn’t something that doctors say to their patients very often. His smirk was also giving you the idea that he had certain intentions.

“Everything seem good down’ere, so I think tha’ problem is with the guys y’gettin with, not you. What type of people do y’usually sleep with.”

“When I was sexually active, it was usually frat boys, so I guess I should’ve known I wasn’t the problem.” You let out a small laugh, Dr. Styles seems to have found it much more amusing, as his chuckle came from deep within his chest. A small movement came with the laugh, which also reminded you that his fingers were still very much inside of you.

“It seems y’need someone who knows his way around,” he cleared his throat, and you smiled as you realized what he was hinting at. “and y’my last paitent of the day, so m’more than happy t’help y’out.” He looked down at his feet shyly, and you found it adorable how he was nervous about what he was proposing. But you were on the verge of tears from how hard it was to hold back your physical response to his touches. Your body relaxed when the words came out of his mouth, and you let out the whine that had been building up in your throat.

“Yes-Harry, god yes.” It was the first time you were using his first name, but the smirk on his face showed his approval.

He quickly removed his fingers from your heat, and you whined again, this time in frustration. Losing contact left you feeling cold, but that feeling only lasted a fleeting moment, as soon as he was pushing his fingers into you again, this time bare.

“Y’already so wet love, what got y’this worked up hmm?”

“Y-you, Harry, I want you.” You tripped over your words, but they came out clear enough for him to understand because he began moving his fingers at the encouragement. His fingers began to pump in and out of you, and you knew he must have been right about not being with the right guys before, because the simple movements left you as putty in his hands. You barely got any pleasure from fingering in your other sexual encounters, but you were already a moaning mess underneath the man. He lifted his other hand, which had also had the glove on it removed, and placed the pad of his finger on your puffy clit. You mewled loudly and his smirk widened.

“Any o’those boys ever make y’feel this good darlin’?” You shook your head furiously, and he smiled, rubbing circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You were already seeing stars, and you could feel an unfamiliar knot forming in your stomach. “Y’so pretty, did y’know tha’?”

You couldn’t muster up enough strength to respond to his second question, but the loud moan that you let out was enough of an answer for him. His movements sped up, fingers pumping in and out of you and his other thumb pressing circles on your button.

“Harry-”

“Think y’close darlin’? Ready t’come fo’ the first time?”

“Yes, yes..” Your voice trailed off when a guttural moan rumbled through your throat. Although you haven’t had one before, you were sure that he was about to bring you to an orgasm. There was a tight feeling in your stomach and you knew it was just about to burst.

“Fuck-”

The knot burst and your orgasm rolled through your body, reaching every nerve inside of you. The feeling was euphoric, and your senses were heightened as your body experienced this new feeling.

“Thas’ it, good girl,” he cooed, slowing his movements and removing his fingers from your now overly sensitive clit. He worked you through your orgasm until fully removing his fingers from you, and you let out a sigh as he did so. “Definitely not somethin’ wrong with ya’, I can tell y’that.”

He smiled up at you and you returned the gesture, your smile only faltering when he turned away to write something down. You took the opportunity to get up and change, quickly dressing while his back was turned.

He turned in his chair to face you once again, handing you a small piece of paper. You took it from between his fingers to see a phone number scribbled on it in black ink.

“Is Doctor Styles giving me his number?” You said it in a cheeky way, smirking back at him.

“Yes, and he’s telling you to text him when you get home. Doctor’s orders.”

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #blurb #one shot #request #harrys styles request #harry styles fic #one direction #smut #fluff

[messers-moony]

Divorce | J.P

Paring: James Potter X Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Reader goes through divorce with her arranged husband but sees her Hogwarts crush almost two years later at her Potions shop in Diagon Alley

Divorce sucks. There is no other way to say it. There is no amount of sugar to properly coat the words to make them seem better than they are. Instead, they’re pure salt– pure acidity. An arranged marriage for purebloods was typical. That doesn’t mean that everyone technically agrees they work. Some speculate that arranged marriages work more than chosen marriages. Y/n wouldn’t be one of those people.

Her family was a part of the sacred twenty-nine. The L/n’s, to be more specific. Y/n was a model child, an only child at that. She was sorted into Slytherin with not a consideration of any other house. Immediately at the age of sixteen, she was engaged to another man called Zenix Flores, another family of the sacred twenty-eight. Zenix was sweet, but he wasn’t her type.

Throughout her years at Hogwarts, Y/n stared at another. His name was James Potter. A star Quidditch player for the Gryffindor team. The best Chaser. Y/n’s lingering stares and dreamy look didn’t make it past Zenix. Fortunately, Zenix had eyes for another as well, Sirius Black, the best friend of James Potter. They bonded over that. They bonded over being in love with people they couldn’t have.

Everyone dies eventually. Immortality is not reality, and once Y/n’s parents died. Divorce was in order. However, they didn’t love each other like they should’ve it still sucked. They were close friends. But did close friends have a child together? Leo Flores, the product of Y/n Flores and Zenix Flores, was only eight years old when they went through the divorce. Leo was a token to show that Zenix and Y/n fell in love. An illusion.

It took months, but after the process was complete, Y/n left. Leo was to be in her care for the rest of his life. Zenix would send some of his profit to them to help, but he would never see his son again. Granted, he didn’t treat Leo well. Always so harsh, so strict on the little boy. The first words out of Leo’s mouth were ma’am and sir. Not momma or daddy. Instead, they were formalities.

They lived in an apartment in Diagon Alley. It wasn’t huge, but it was enough. Y/n changed her last name, and Leo’s back to L/n. Another long process but worth the wait. Y/n worked at a Potions shop in the Alley. Sometimes her old friend Severus would visit and buy some ingredients, but no one else she knew ever came into the shop. Not until he showed up at the door.

James Potter came waltzing into the Potions shop like it was nobody’s business. Unknown to the woman working the shop, he had been watching her work from afar. Just across the street was a bookstore where Remus would visit. During one of those visits, James caught sight of her. Granted, James didn’t think he’d find love after Lily ran away after his proposal claiming he wasn’t enough but that all changed when he saw her.

The feelings came back like it was yesterday she was gazing at him from the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. Y/n’s cheeks were set ablaze, and her stomach was placed into a frenzy of a million different feelings. Her heart made it seem like she ran around the Quidditch pitch one thousand times. Unbeknownst to her, he felt the same way.

Eventually, he made his way to the counter, “ Um- Good Afternoon. “

“ Good afternoon, sir. How may I assist you today? “ Y/n asked despite her racing heart, “ I need some help brewing a complex Potion. “ James confessed, fiddling with his hands.

“ What Potion, sir? “ Y/n inquired, “ Wolfsbane. “ James answered.

Her eyebrow quirked upward, “ That is a difficult Potion. It could have awful defects if made incorrectly. “ Y/n explained, looking at the ingredient list, “ How about this, I’ll make you the Potion instead of you possibly messing it up? “

“ How can I trust you won’t mess up? “ James questioned, smirking teasingly, “ Well. If it helps any, I received O’s on all of my Potion examinations, even in N.E.W.T level. “ Y/n quipped.

“ Well. I suppose you know your stuff. “ He replied as he crossed his arms, “ I suppose I do. “ Y/n retorted with a smile.

So James decided that she’d make the Potion. He would’ve paid her a million Galleons if he was just allowed to sit in the shop and stare at her. She was a beauty and moved so gorgeously. She moved with a purpose, with determination and ambition. Sirius and Remus had begun teasing him as James stared longingly at the Potions shop across the street.

“ Do you know her name? “ Remus asked, standing beside James now, “ No? “ James stated.

Remus chuckled; of course, he didn’t, “ Y/n L/n. She was a Slytherin in our year. Amazingly brilliant she is. Apparently, she was married to Zenix Flores but got divorced two years ago. “

James and Sirius stared gobsmacked, “ Did you stalk Prongs’ future wife? “ Sirius accused, and Remus shrugged, “ I was curious. Plus, I knew her at Hogwarts. She was a Prefect. We had a lot of rounds together. “

“ She was a Prefect? “ James queried, “ Mhm. You were too busy drooling at Lily to notice her. “ Remus nodded.

Now James felt incredibly stupid. All those pranks on the Slytherin house made him feel exceptionally stupid, knowing that she could’ve caught the backlash on some of them. Not only that, but she was a part of the sacred twenty-eight. James had never felt more idiotic, and he had gotten rejected after proposing to his girlfriend. That was saying something.

A month had passed, and the potion was ready. So once again, James walked into the Potions shop. This time she had a messy top knot present on top of her hair. Her eyes held extreme tiredness, and she moved almost sluggishly. James was worried. But Y/n saw him enter the shop and her cheerful smile glazed her face. Two bottles were now present on the counter for James to take.

He stood at the counter and pressed ten Galleons on the table, “ Sir, they’re only three Galleons. “ Y/n stated, “ Take the extra. You look exhausted. “ James replied.

“ Th- Thank you. “ Y/n smiled, “ Thank you, Y/n, for making these. “ James said gratefully.

Y/n blushed, “ I- Um- You were a Slytherin Prefect in my year at Hogwarts. “ James stammered, “ I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you before. “

“ It’s okay. Divorce can do that to you, Huh? “ Y/n laughed bitterly, “ Well, when I proposed to Lily, she straight up told me I wasn’t good enough so, that was almost like divorce minus the paperwork. “ James added.

“ I’m- I’m so sorry. “ Y/n apologized, “ No, no. I’m okay, trust me. It’s been about three years. “ James replied.

Before Y/n could speak again, steps were heard from the second story, “ Mom! Mom! “ Leo’s voice called as he rushed down the steps.

“ Mom! “ Leo appeared from behind the counter to see James and a blushing Y/n, “ Oops, uh, sorry, mom. “

“ No, it’s fine. Come here. “ James beckoned, and Leo hesitantly approached, “ What’s your name, little man? “

“ I’m ten! “ Leo announced proudly, and James chuckled, “ That’s awesome! “ James smiled.

Y/n turned to her son, “ What did you need, Leo? “ Despite being embarrassed, she was calm, “ You accidentally placed my quills on a high shelf. I can't reach them. “ Leo confessed, slightly embarrassed.

“ I’ll be up in just a second, but- “ Y/n began, but James stuck out his hand, “ I’m James. “

“ I’m Leo. “ Leo accepted the handshake and smiled at the adult man, “ If your mom doesn’t mind, maybe we could chat? “ James inquired, looking toward Y/n.

Leo looked hopeful at his mom, “ Please? “

“ Sure. You can go. “ Y/n allowed, and Leo hopped over the counter.

Before James could leave the proximity of the counter, Y/n grabbed his wrist, “ Please. Take care of him; I'm trusting you blindly here. “ She pleaded, and James smirked, “ Of course. “

The rest of the day went smoothly. Y/n had closed shop and began restocking items when they showed up. James' unkempt brown hair was more unorganized, but his hazel eyes glassed with mischief. Leo’s black hair was blown away from the rain, and his blue eyes sparkled with excitement. James beckoned the ten-year-old back upstairs while he approached Y/n.

“ So? Have a nice day with my kid? “ Y/n teased, and James chuckled, “ He’s fantastic. “

“ I know. “ She replied, “ I took him for ice cream, and we went shopping for a little. “ James informed.

Y/n melted at the adoration present on James' face, “ Do you need any money back? I can- “

“ No. Don’t worry about it, doll. I’ve got it covered. “ James interjected, “ I just saw him, and he had this look. He looked trapped. He needed to leave and just let loose for a couple of hours. “

“ I- I really love him. “ James confessed, and Y/n smirked, “ You’re in love with my son but not the woman who created him? “

“ If we're being honest. I’ve been watching you from the bookstore across the street. I thought you were gorgeous. Remus was the one who told me who you were. “ He admitted nervously, “ But being with your son today. If you’d like, could I take him out more often? “

She stepped down from the ladder and stood in front of him, “ How about you stay forever? “

“ I- I mean that is if you want. I know that I’m a pureblood, and- and my son- you probably don’t want to have a child right now. He’ll be going to Hogwarts soon, and quite frankly, I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it. But- But his former father wasn’t amazing, and I’m not sure you want that responsibility- “

Y/n was cut off when James grabbed her by the waist and placed his lips on hers. His thumbs rubbed gentle circles on her skin through her shirt. Y/n’s hands went through his unkept brown tuffs and his glasses slightly fogged from the heat of the kiss. They pulled apart but rested their foreheads on each other. They were still somewhat breathless from the soft kiss.

He held her chin in his hand, “ I’d love nothing more than to stay forever. “

#james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter #james Potter #james Potter x y/n #remus x y/n #remus x you #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader smut #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fluff #james fluff #james Potter fluff #remus lupin #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius orion black #sirius imagine #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black #marauders x reader #marauders smut #marauders imagine #marauders fluff #marauders #harry potter fanfiction

[princehrry-writings]

Daddy?

happy Easter if you celebrate it!! I've been working on this for a couple weeks!! It's the longest one-shot I think I've ever written.

word count: 5180

please please please flood my inbox with your thoughts and comments!! i want to know what you think!!!

warnings: some swearing (i think), absent birth father, single mom, nothing too serious.

“And who might this be?” He said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten her.

“Tell Harry your name baby,” Y/n brushed a stray piece of hair away from her daughter's face who shied away behind her mom’s leg.

“Stella,” the little girl mumbled, fidgeting with the jeans she hid behind. He felt his heart flutter. She was just so freakin cute.

“It’s lovely to meet you Stella, m’Harry!”

“You talk funny.” The child said, making Harry laugh and Y/n gasp, scolding her daughter for being rude while trying not to laugh at her blunt comment.

“Stella Rose, that was not a very nice thing to say!” Y/n softly reprimanded.

“Sowwy Hawwy,” He chuckled, letting her know he forgave her.

or

Y/n is a single mom and Harry wants to be a part of the family.

.

.

.

Getting pregnant was definitely not something Y/n wanted to be doing at 20 years old. She had a boyfriend and the career of her dreams but as soon as the news broke, one of those things was no longer true. Her ex skipped town faster than she could even finish telling him she was pregnant, so Y/n was left to her own devices since her family was so far away.

She was a songwriter. She had worked with all the big names in the industry from Taylor Swift to All Time Low. She was known for being able to write in any genre, that’s what set her apart and why people were clawing at the chance to work with her.

And then she got pregnant. She kept writing songs until she was eight and a half months along but due to minor complications, her doctor had ordered her to stay home. So she did. She stayed home, had the baby, and raised her all by herself. Now that baby, whose name is Stella, is four years old and is traveling the world with her mom. Y/n had gone back to work when Stella was a year old. At first, she would leave her baby with a sitter, but eventually, she got to a point where Stella was old enough to come along to writing sessions and quietly color or play with toys in a corner. She really liked going to work with her mom. She got to see a bunch of cool places and meet a lot of nice people.

And one of those people was Harry Styles. Y/n had met him a few times back when he was with One Direction, had even tried to work with the band a few times but things never lined up right. But now he was making his second studio album and only wanted the best of the best to write with him so naturally, he called Y/n. Harry knew she had a kid but he didn’t expect her to bring said kid to a writing session. Harry didn’t really mind- he loves kids, but his friends had been known to curse a lot and he didn’t want to cause any harm to the child.

He made sure to give everyone a stern talking to, even though Kid already knew to hold his tongue (his little ones had repeated some colorful words a few times). He wanted everything to go right, needed it to. Y/n was more than just another songwriter.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it!” Harry smiled as she walked into the studio. She smiled back, walking into his open arms for a hug.

“Thank you so much for having me, I’m super stoked to be working with you!” She said, slightly muffled by his neck. Harry looked down behind Y/n and saw a little girl that looked exactly like the woman currently in his arms looking right back up at him. When the two pulled away Harry was quick to kneel down to her height.

“And who might this be?” He said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten her.

“Tell Harry your name baby,” Y/n brushed a stray piece of hair away from her daughter's face who shied away behind her mom’s leg.

“Stella,” the little girl mumbled, fidgeting with the jeans she hid behind. He felt his heart flutter. She was just so freakin cute.

“It’s lovely to meet you Stella, m’Harry!”

“You talk funny.” The child said, making Harry laugh and Y/n gasp, scolding her daughter for being rude while trying not to laugh at her blunt comment.

“Stella Rose, that was not a very nice thing to say!” Y/n softly reprimanded.

“Sowwy Hawwy,” He chuckled, letting her know he forgave her. Although he wasn’t mad, he understood Y/n had to teach her not to say things like that even if they were funny.

When Stella had settled at a table out of the way of the adults in the room with her coloring book and a juice box, the work began. Y/n and Harry sat at a piano bench ( he hoped she couldn’t hear his pounding heart) while Kid and Mitch, along with Jeff, sat scattered around the other furniture in the studio.

“So, I have a couple of ideas that I’ve been sitting on that I think you might like. You can look through this and see if there's something that catches your eye.” Y/n said, handing Harry a notebook. She tried to ignore the tingle she felt run up her arm when their fingers brushed. He flipped around the pages, noticing random little doodles in the corners and in between lines, and the somewhat messy but readable handwriting. He thought it was cute how she connected her s’s to her t’s and k’s when she wrote.

One page, in particular, caught his attention.

Golden, Golden, Golden

As I open my eyes

Hold it, focus

So you take me back to the light

I know you were way too bright for me

I’m hopeless, broken

So you wait for me in the sky

Brown my skin just right

“Is this a verse or a chorus?” He asked, pointing it out to her. She shrugged saying she didn’t really know yet but it would probably be a verse.

“I like it a lot,” He said and she smiled, picking up her guitar and strumming it to the tune she had thought of for the words. He listened and nodded along, already getting ideas for where to go next.

“I like the golden thing. I think that could be a good hook, something like we’re so golden,” Kid spoke up, tapping his fingers along to what she was playing.

“Or you’re so golden,” Mitch suggested. Harry and Y/n’s eyes widened at the same time, both looking up at each other when they heard the line.

“You’re so golden, you’re so golden…” Y/n hummed.

“I’m out of my head, and I know what you said about hearts get broken,”

“How about I’m out of my head and I know that you’re scared because hearts get broken,”

“I like that better, yeah!” Harry smiled, nodding along to the beat.

Y/n looked over 30 minutes later to see Stella had sprawled out on the floor with her arms folded beneath her head, first finger stuck into her mouth, and she smiled, breathing out a laugh.

“She’s so precious,” Harry murmured from beside you. Your gaze found his and the smile on your face widened a little bit.

“She is, isn’t she.” She said, pride present in her eyes.

“Looks just like you as well,”

“Yeah thank god, I don’t know what I would have done if she had ended up looking like her sperm donor,” Malice dripped from the end of her phrase. Y/n couldn’t even entertain the idea of her looking like the man who helped create her. That nerve was still a little raw, not because she had any remaining feelings, but because he had abandoned not only her but the beautiful baby girl who was napping not 15 feet away from her. She figured they were better off without him, yet her heart always shattered a little when Stella asked if she had a daddy like the people she sees on tv.

“I couldn’t imagine finding out the woman I loved was pregnant and then leaving her, any real man would have stayed.” His eyes were genuine, which she appreciated. Most people would say they felt sorry for her, pity dripping from their gaze, but she didn’t need pity, didn’t need people to feel sorry for her. But what Harry said was out of pity, he just honestly couldn’t understand how anyone would abandon a child.

“Yeah well, I guess I just wasn’t the woman he loved.” She said, looking back at her baby. Stella made all of that pain from when he disappeared worth it.

Harry wanted to be able to take that pain away.

---

“Hey I know it’s late, but I have this idea and I want you to hear it,” Harry’s raspy voice chimed through the speaker of Y/n’s phone. She glanced at the time, reading 1:30 AM, and sighed.

“Ok,”

“Come open the door,” He said.

“Wait what? You’re here?”

“Yeah, come on. It’s cold out here.”

“Ugh, hold on,” The woman sighed, hanging up and tip-toeing out of her room so her footsteps wouldn’t wake the sleeping four-year-old in the next room over. Her door was open and she was a light sleeper.

The door swung open and Harry stood there with a small smile on his face, burrowing as deep into his coat as he could to shield himself from the cold air outside.

“Hi!” His cheeky smile made Y/n’s heart flutter.

This was the first of many times he would show up at her place in the middle of the night.

---

Another night of Harry coming over late with a song idea he couldn’t wait to show Y/n, although now it was more he would come over after Stella fell asleep and the two would watch movies and talk, and sometimes write songs (even though the album was done).

The pair were perched on the couch in a heated conversation about whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza (it does and that is a fact not an opinion) when the sound of little footsteps caught their attention. They both looked up from where they sat at the sound of loud crying coming down the stairs, seeing a small child with tears barreling down her face, cheeks flush an angry red, first finger stuck in her mouth, teddy bear clutched tightly to her chest.

“Baby what’s wrong?” Y/n cooed, getting up and sweeping her into her arms. She went and sat back down on the couch, cradling the baby to her chest, brushing her hair out of her face, and rocking her back and forth.

“Scawwy dweam mommy,” She hiccuped into her mom’s neck, where she hid her face. Her tiny hands clutched onto her shirt, finger stick tucked between her lips.

Harry held back a coo at the little girl, feeling himself fall further and further for the little family of two sitting before him. He hadn’t been able to take his mind off of them since that first day he met Stella. He’d always had a schoolboy crush on Y/n since they first met all those years ago but knew it was one-sided when she introduced her boyfriend one of the last times they had seen each other. As fate would have it though, they found their way back to each other. Neither of them could deny the feelings they held, but Y/n was scared to bring someone into the picture because she didn’t want Stella to get attached to someone who wouldn’t be permanent. She was lucky her ex left before he ever got the chance to meet Stella, the kid had no clue what she was missing, therefore didn’t have any pain due to her absent father.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t imagine Harry stepping into that role. But she couldn’t ask that of him. He was at a time in his career where he didn’t have time to be the father of a four year old.

But life is full of surprises.

“Hawwy.” The baby whimpered and crawled off of Y/n’s chest, into his lap and snuggled her head right into him like it was where she was meant to be all along. His heart just about burst when the little girl fisted his shirt, tucking herself into him. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, cradling her into him and rocking her back and forth like her mother had been only moments ago.

Stella calms down almost immediately, to Y/n’s surprise. It usually takes her a while to console her baby from bad dreams, but all Harry had to do was hold her, and boom, no more tears.

“You alright petal?” He cooed into her hair, soothing his hand up and down her back to keep her calm. She nodded, letting out a huge yawn and closing her eyes, falling back asleep in his arms.

Y/n was astonished. Stella had never fallen asleep on anyone but her mom or her grandmother. She’s known Harry for a few months and was acting like he’d been there her whole life.

“Wow… she loves you.” Y/n whispered, not really meaning for him to hear but he did and his smile gave her the impression that he loved her too. But Stella wasn’t the only one he felt such affections for.

“Y/n....” He starts after a moment of silence, “I know this sounds crazy because we’ve only truly known each other for a few months… but I’ve had feelings for you for years. I missed my opportunity when you got with your ex but I’m here now, and I love you, and I love Stella, and I would do anything to stay in both of your lives if you’d have me. I want to be here for you, and I want to be here for her as well.” His confession shocked the woman sitting across from him.

Y/n was quiet, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought while she took in what he was saying. Trying her best to keep her fantasies of playing house with him at bay, she spoke.

“Harry, as much as all of that sounds lovely, you’re about to start press for the album and then go on tour. You’re not gonna have time to be in a relationship, and as much as I wish I could just jump into something like that, I can’t. I have her to think about…” She gestured to the toddler sleeping on him.

“She needs consistency, her life is already hectic enough.”

“So come with me!” He spouted, and then retracted a bit realizing he could wake Stella up.

“What?”

“Come with me! You two travel around already, so come on the press tour with me and then come on the big tour with me! I know this sounds impulsive and it’s probably the craziest thing I’ve ever said in my life ever, but I’ve never been more sure of anything. I know what I want Y/n, and that’s to be a part of this family. I want to be a part of your lives!”

“Harry, I-”

“Please Y/n. Give me a chance! I won’t let you down!” The gleam in his eyes shows her that he’s serious. He really does want this. Harry just hopes that Y/n can see just how willing he is, how much it would mean to him to have (what he already affectionately considers to be) his girls with him on tour.

It’s quiet, only sounds of Stella’s even breaths and the light noise of her sucking on her finger fill the room. Eventually, Y/n gathers her thoughts, mind made up.

“We’ll try it out… see how it goes….” She said, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding on to. Harry’s smile grew tenfold at her confession, reaching over and bringing her face closer to his to kiss her lips, careful not to wake the baby in his arms.

He had never been happier, Harry decides, than he is right now.

---

“Hawwy?” Stella’s voice catches Y/n’s attention from where she sits on the plane, in between her and Harry. She turns her little head to the man sitting in the aisle seat, big round eyes staring right into his.

“What is it, lovebug?” He asks, pushing her wild baby hairs away from her eyes. Y/n did her very best not to coo at the two of them. Harry had fallen perfectly into step with the mother and daughter, like this duo had been a trio all along. She was still hesitant to think of him as a father figure for Stella though, just because if things went south somehow, she didn’t want her baby suffering a loss like that (a second time).

Stella’s little fists rubbed at her tired eyes. She let out a small ‘hmph’ and laid her head on Harry’s arm, wrapping her own little arms around his.

“Awe you my daddy?” She asked and Y/n choked on her spit, looking back over at the toddler.

“Stella, baby-”

“I would love to be your daddy lovebug, but that’s not really up to me…” He spoke and glanced up at Y/n quickly, trepidation clear in his eyes. Harry was afraid he might overstep. Sure he knew that things were still new between him and Y/n but he wanted nothing more than for Stella to think of him as her dad.

“Who’s it up to?” Y/n could tell she was about to fall asleep but was fighting it in order to get her answers. She had adjusted to a more fast pace schedule quite nicely. She slept through most plane and car rides and absolutely loved being backstage at concerts. Harry thought she looked so adorable with her big noise-canceling headphones on. They had been on the road for a few months now, and it had been 8 months since Y/n decided to give him a chance.

“It’s up to mummy, baby.” He answered, his fingers tangling into his chestnut curls in a futile attempt to keep them out of his face.

Stella’s head immediately whipped to look at her mom, who sat frozen in her seat, not knowing what to do.

“Mommy, is Hawwy my daddy?” She repeated her question. Y/n had a feeling that Stella thought Harry was her real dad, the one that her mom didn’t like to talk about. She had to make sure there was no confusion.

“Not like you're thinking he is, baby. He’s not your birth dad, he didn’t help mommy make you, but if you want him to be your daddy, then that’s ok with me.” Y/n locked eyes with the man sitting across from her with a smile on his face. She was glad that they were flying private because she really didn’t need anyone ruining this moment for them. All her fears of this not working out felt stupid now.

How could she ever think that things with Harry wouldn’t work out? He was right where he belonged.

---

“Daddy!”

“Baby!” Harry knelt down to catch the running (almost) 5 year old, picking her up and spinning her around in his arms. They were in England for two weeks on tour. One for shows, and one so that Y/n and Stella could meet Harry’s mom and sister for the first time as a part of the family. Y/n had met them before as “a friend of Harry’s” many years ago, but they had never met her as Harry’s girlfriend, and they hadn’t met Stella.

Currently, Harry was in the middle of a show and Stella had just escaped her mothers arms side stage in favor of running to her dad. Y/n still couldn’t get over saying that. Harry is Stella’s dad. She doesn’t think that will ever get old.

No one knew how serious the relationship between Y/n and Harry was. The public knew they were together (after a very vague post on instagram of the mother/daughter duo napping with the caption “my girls”). Many people thought this was a PR stunt, just because it was so unlike Harry to post something like that. But he had actually confirmed in an interview that, yes, he was in a relationship with the songwriter and it was pretty serious. That was all he chose to say, in favor of keeping his secrecy, as he so famously loves to do.

What came as a shock to the audience was what the child had called Harry. They all knew about Stella, obviously, but no one would have thought that this child would think of him as her father. A lot of people didn’t like thinking about Harry being a father.

“What are you doing out here baby?” He said into her ear, making sure he could hear her over the loud noise of the audience. Most of them loved getting glimpses into his life, so the crowd was excited to see Stella out on stage and many thought it was adorable that she already thought of him as her dad.

“Missed you.” She said into his neck. The microphone had somehow picked up their little exchange and the whole crowd sighed a collective “awe” when she said that. She was perched on his hip with her little arms wrapped around his neck, her favorite place if she had to choose one. She was pretty small for a 4-year-old, most people usually thought she was younger.

Harry chuckled and saw Y/n standing there with a smile on her face. Mitch was giggling at the exchange and kept glancing back at Sarah with a knowing look of “That’s going to be us soon,” written on his face.

“I missed you too lovebug, but I’m in the middle of a show! I gotta send you back to mumma.” He said. Stella didn’t like that though, because as soon as the words left his lips she was clinging to him like he was her life force and the tears began streaming down her face. She didn’t like having to share her daddy. She just wanted to be held by him right now, and she’d be damned if she got anything but her way.

This amused everyone, the child's insistence to be in her father's arms, so he sighed and bent to her will because how could he say no to his baby girl?

So he walked over to her mom and got her headphones, slipping them on her, and walked back to his microphone with her on his hip, ready to start the next song.

“Harry and Stella” was trending on twitter the very next morning. No one could get enough of the father-daughter duo.

---

Y/n hadn’t been this nervous since she was about to give birth to Stella. She stood with her baby in her arms as Harry opened the door to his childhood home, announcing to his mom and sister that they were there. She had to wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans more than once.

Anne rushed out from wherever she had been, greeting the three of them. Stella had met Anne via FaceTime many times so it was not news to her (or Gemma) that Harry had stepped into the role of Stella’s father. She will admit she was surprised at first but then she was reminded that Harry had been in their lives for almost a year before Stella had asked the question. It wasn’t something that was rushed into.

Anne was very excited to be meeting her grandbaby and was very excited to meet the girl that had made her a grandmother.

Stella got shy, not being used to seeing “Nana” in person. Gemma had emerged from her spot in the kitchen as well, greeting everyone.

“Hello, my loves! How was the trip?” Anne said, kissing both of them on the cheek, her hand gently caressing the child's cheek in an attempt to get her out of her shell. Once she realized that this was her Nana that was standing before her, Stella reached out for Anne, silently asking to be held by her. Anne jumped at the chance, sweeping the baby into her arms and giving her a big hug, kissing her on the forehead multiple times, not being able to quell her affection for her first grandchild.

“It was good mum, Stell slept the whole way and traffic was pretty light,” Harry said, slipping his hand into his girlfriend’s, brushing his thumb back and forth trying to help calm her anxieties. For whatever reason, Y/n was worried that Gemma and Anne wouldn’t like her because she had come into their son/brother's life with a child, but it was clear that the two ladies loved the idea of Harry being Stella’s father.

“Oh, that's lovely!” She smiled, cuddling Stella impossibly closer to her. Y/n felt most of her worries melt away seeing the woman with her baby.

She felt silly for thinking Anne would be anything but happy.

---

Anne would not put Stella down for anything. The two were attached at the hip every waking second. Y/n was actually starting to miss her baby, but she appreciated getting to spend time with Harry without having to keep an eye on their little one. Gemma was absolutely smitten with Stella as well. She was very excited to be “Auntie Gem” as Stella had quickly adapted to calling her. Stella was very happy as well. She had never been around so much family in her whole life. She’d been so used to just her and her mom, and then just them and Harry, but now she had two whole grandma’s all to herself and an auntie she gets to call her own, something she never knew she was missing, that Y/n never thought her baby would get to have.

Harry was so happy to see his baby with Anne and Gemma. They had been bumped to spot number 3 and 4 on his favorite girl list, with Stella and Y/n taking spots 1 and 2. They didn’t mind one bit.

“Daddy, can we watch a movie?” Stella jumped up onto his lap as he and Y/n sat on the couch, just talking and enjoying each other's company. Y/n smiled at the girl, tightening her grip around Harry’s shoulders, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

“Of course we can lovebug! Go get Nana and auntie Gem and we’ll all pick one out together!” He replied, petting her wild baby hairs out of her eyes just like he always did.

“Auntie Gemma said to ask you if we could watch…” She paused for a second, her little finger tapping on her chin like she couldn’t remember what she was gonna say. Suddenly, she was up and running back to the hallway she had just come from. Y/n and Harry heard little whispers before she came running back out and plopped back onto Harry’s lap, on ‘oof’ erupting from him.

“This Is Us!” She finally said. Harry’s face dropped as he looked behind them to see Gemma standing there, trying to hold back her laughter. Y/n just started cackling and Stella was giggling even though she had no idea what was going on.

“Daddy’s in that movie baby,” Y/n finally calmed down enough to say to her daughter. The little one’s eyes lit up, her hands clasped underneath her chin. This was what she did when she wanted her daddy to say yes to her because she knew he couldn’t resist how adorable she was.

“Please please please!!!!!!” She whined, leaning in to place her forehead against Harry’s. She knew exactly how to get him. He caved every single time.

“Yeah, fine. We can watch it!” He finally said and all three girls cheered. Anne came in at the noise wondering what was going on.

“What’s all this?” She asked and Stella ran up to her, pulling on her

“We watching Daddy’s movie Nana!” She said, jumping up and down with a glowing beam on her face.

“Oh, are we now? Which one?” Anne asked and Stella paused.

“Daddy, how many movies awe you in?” She came back and crawled into his lap. She still had trouble saying her r’s. Her and Harry were working on it.

“Two, lovebug. But one of them you can’t watch until you’re older. It’s too scary f’you.” He said, cuddling his baby into his chest. She put on a little pout hearing that. She didn’t like when her daddy told her no, but this was something he wasn’t gonna budge on.

“Ok,” She sighed. All the adults thought this was adorable.

So they all settled in and watched the movie. Harry had a permanent blush on his face and Stella would jump up and down every time he was on the screen.

“Nana look!! That’s you!!” Anne laughed and nodded to her granddaughter.

“Yes, it is baby!”

“Mommy, why aren’t you in this movie?” She asked and everyone giggled.

“Me and Daddy didn’t know each other very well back then, baby.” Y/n laughed. Stella didn’t really understand but she didn’t say anything else.

The last few days had worn her out and that became very obvious when Harry looked down and saw his baby asleep on his chest, her first finger stuck in her mouth just like it always was when she fell asleep.

“Love, I’m gonna go lay her down, and then I’ll be right back,” Harry whispered, cradling the sleeping girl in his arms and slowly standing up. Y/n nodded, kissing his cheek before he left.

“He’s so good with her!” Gemma cooed, her face lighting up seeing her brother with his kid. A sight she was still kind of getting used to seeing.

“He really is…” Y/n smiled, “It was pretty instant too. Anytime he’d come over and she was still awake, he’d insist on putting her to bed, reading to her, singing to her, he’d bring her toys. She’s had him wrapped around her little finger since he first laid eyes on her.”

“That’s so precious,” Anne spoke up, coming to sit next to her, wrapping Y/n in her warm embrace.

“I can’t wait until you two get married!” Y/n laughed at Gemma’s confession, snuggling into Anne.

“All he has to do is ask, I’m ready to say yes!” What none of the girls knew was that Harry was standing right outside the living room, hearing everything that was being said. His mind raced back to his suitcase where a velvet box sat tucked away between all of his clothes.

He was hesitant to bring the idea up because it had only been a year, but the saying when you know, you know he thought.

He came back into the living room, acting none the wiser, sitting on the other side of the girl he was going to marry (she just didn’t know it yet), and cuddled into her just as she had cuddled into his mom.

“Daddy,” A small voice broke through the now quiet hum of the tv.

“Lovebug, what are you doing back up?” He asked, lifting the sleepy little thing into his lap.

“Scawwy dweam, daddy.” She said and he pouted, pulling her closer into his chest and snuggling her back to sleep.

Harry was exactly where he belonged in life. With his baby girl in his arms, and his Love by his side.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry x reader #dad!harry x reader #dad!harry styles #dad!harry #reader insert #harry x you #one direction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles one shot #one direction fan fiction #one direction one shot #harry styles imagine #harry #harry styles fluff #friend!harry #friends to lovers #daddy? series

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Avoidance

masterlist

part two

Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.

A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader

Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom 

Word Count: 8.2k

           I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.

           Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.

           Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.

           It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

           To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.

           I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.

           “He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”

           By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:

           “Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.

           And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

           Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.

           “How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.

           “I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”

           He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.

           “Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

           I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.

           “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”

           “Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.

           Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.

           “I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.

           “N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”

           And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.

--

           Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.

           In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.

           The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.

           After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.

           I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.

           Until today.

           “Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”

           I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.

           Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.

           “Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.

           “Why? Is there a problem?”

           Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.

           “No, but I just think that-”

           “Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”

           Right.

           I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.

           Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.

           But not to me – no, never to me.

           “Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”

           After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

           “Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

           “… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”

           I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated  groan.

           After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.

           After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.

           I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.

           Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.

           I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.

--

           As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.

           Or so I thought.

           I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.

           And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.

           “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.

           “Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.

           “Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”

           “I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.

           “C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”

           “Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.

           “You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.

           “I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.

           “Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.

           Oh, fuck no.

           I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.

           My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.

           “What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.

           “Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?

           Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”

           By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.

           “You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”

           I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.

           “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.

           Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.

           “Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.

           Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.

--

           I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.

           He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.

           “I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.

           “Oh. O-Okay.”

           And that was that.

           It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.

           The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.

           I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.

I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.

I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.

Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!

I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.

I’m about five feet away from the door when:

“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”

I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.

But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.

It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.

Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.

I take that as my invitation to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.

I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”

Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.

“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.

“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.

“I-I…”

“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”

Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”

Oh.

This just got a lot more interesting.

I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.

“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”

Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

“Words, baby. Use them.”

“I-I liked it. A lot.”

“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”

“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”

I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.

“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.

“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”

I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?

“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”

“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.

“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”

“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”

I hum.

“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.

“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.

“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”

“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.

“Please what?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.

“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”

“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”

Spencer nods.

“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”

Oh. Oh.

I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”

Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.

“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.

“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”

Enthusiastic little shit.

“Safe word?”

“Um… Tolstoy?”

I let out a snort.

“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”

“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.

Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.

“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.

“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”

The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.

“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.

“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.

“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”

Spencer nods.

“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.

Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.

I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.

“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.  

“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”

“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.

“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.

“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.

“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”

I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.

“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.

“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.

Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.

           “D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.

           “S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”

           I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.

           “Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.

           I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.

           “Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”

           Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.

           “You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.

           “Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.

           I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.

           “Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”

Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:

“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”

The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.

I know he didn’t just…

           I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.

        ��  Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.

           “I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”

           “Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?”            “N-No, Miss.”

           “Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”

           “B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”

           “Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”

           Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.

           “I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”

           Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.

           “Color?”

           “G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.

           “Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”

           “Tolstoy.”

           “Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”

           A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.

           “O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.

           “You okay, baby?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”

           My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.

           “Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”

           By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.

           I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.

           “T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

           “You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”

           Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.

           I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.

           Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.

           A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.

           “Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

           “S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”

           “Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.

           “Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.

           “Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”

           “N-No, it’s just-”

           I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.

           “No, it isn’t good enough?”

           Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.

           “P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”

           Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.

           “Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”

           That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.

           “W-Why did yo-”

           “You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”

           “S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”

           Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.

           “You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”

           “Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.

           “S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.

           “Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”

           “H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.

           “Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”

           “Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.

           “Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.

           While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.

           “I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”

           I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.

           “Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”

           With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.

           “Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”

           His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.

           “Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”

           “Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.

           “Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me. 

           “Y/N - fuck!”

           Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.

             I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.

           “C-Can you stay? Please?”

           The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.

           “Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.

           “Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”

           “Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.

           “What is it, baby?”

           A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.

           “Can I kiss you?”

           After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.

           My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.

           “I have another question,” he says shyly.

           “Lay it on me, baby.”

           The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.

           “It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”

           Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.

           “First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.

           “Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.

--

           And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.

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