#I think they’d make her feel loved and never too pressured | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peachesofteal · 8 months

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Dead Disco masterlist / this can be read as standalone

Ghost/Soap/female reader 5.6k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Threesome - M/M/F. Explicit sex. Barebacking. Oral sex - fem receiving. Creampie. Come eating. Praise kink. Top Simon Riley. Bottom Johnny MacTavish. Feelings of anxiety, insecurity, complicated emotions. Angst. Alcohol consumption. Darling is her/your own tag/warning. Reference to pre established limits and negotiation. Reader is bad at feelings. No established relationship. The 'first time' in Dead Disco. This is pre relationship, and I think it shows. Little lore note: this is the first time you're called Darling.

Your fingers find the neck of the bottle easily enough, condensation slicking beneath your skin as you lift it your lips.

You wish the beer was a shot. Or an entire bottle of some hard liquor. Something that could stop your brain from spinning eight million miles an hour, something that could turn you off so that you could relax, so you could try to enjoy yourself more.

Your excitement for this evening is being turbulently tossed with anxiety, and it’s making your stomach hurt a little bit.

You curse yourself for not just ordering a shot. A double, even.

“Ye alright, love?” Johnny asks, light and happy but tone pulling with concern. His hand slides across the table. A lifeline. A sweet gesture.

But if you take it, you’ll look too needy. Too clingy. Too… much.

“Yeah, I’m…” A thought occurs to you in the middle of your assurance, a rash decision that's quite rotten. “I actually have to use the bathroom; I’ll be right back?” Simon still isn’t back from when he went, and you feel bad for leaving Johnny alone at the table, but this is too perfect of an opportunity.

His eyes squint before he nods.

“Alright.”

“Can I get a double vodka please? On the rocks.” You half yell to the bartender, flashing a card. They deposit it in front of you succinctly, and just the sight of the clear liquid draws tension from your shoulders.

This will make it easier. This will keep you from second guessing every word that comes out of your mouth. This will make you more fun. This will make them like you more.

You need all the help you can get, honestly. You’re… woefully unprepared, too excited, clumsy with your eagerness, too nervous for what was discussed earlier, and the clock ticks closer and closer to the moment when you’ll be leaving the bar as three, to go back to their place.

What if you’re not good? What if you don’t live up to their expectations? What if they don’t like you?

You’ve never done, this. Never had a threesome before. You told them, of course. Confessed it a few days ago when you all met for drinks. When Johnny pressed you against the wall of the dimly lit dive in a heated kiss, and Simon watched. When it became clear where this was all going, when Johnny told you that they’d love to have you in their bed, would love to have an opportunity to get to know you a little better, make you feel good.

You hadn’t bothered to tell them that they should be careful what they wish for. You knew they would find out eventually. It was only a matter of time.

But the alcohol will help with that. Will help with everything. Will help delay the inevitable.

And you can still have some fun, before it all comes crashing down.

You clutch the glass greedily, lifting it to your lips to knock it down in one go. You can smell the burn of the liquor, the noxious fumes like sour tinged rubbing alcohol filling the air as you tip it back, ice cubes slotting against your lips and-

A hand wraps around your wrist with firm, insistent pressure and pulls the glass away, plucking it from your palm and placing back onto the bar top unceremoniously.

You turn in the same moment, irritated, outraged, until you’re face to chest with Simon, and he’s staring down at you, severe gaze seeking yours above the black cloth mask.

“Uh-“ you squeak. His hand returns to your wrist, and he’s stroking circles into your pulse point. “I was just, gonna have a-“ he shakes his head, releasing you to produce a note that he hands to the bartender.

All while never looking away from you.

It’s like he’s studying you, and you burn with shame, embarrassment heating through your belly and you look away, opting to study the sticky floor instead.

He looks too closely at you, all the time, and it’s unnerving. Two weeks ago, he hardly said ten words to you, but you practically crumbled under the pressure of his gaze all the same.

The people around you can't help but stare, and you don't blame them, although you're not afraid like some of them seem to be. Your undeniable attraction to him, to Johnny, to both of them together, draws you in like a sacrificial lamb to the slaughter. Willing, and foolish. Take me.

There is no fear of them hurting you, doing something wicked or cruel, but of something worse. You’re scared of wanting them more, and more, desiring something that is not even feasible, not within the realm of possibility. You’re afraid every time you catch Simon staring at you that he’s reading your mind, seeing down past everything you display and into the truth of who you are. You’re already afraid of the day it ends, when Johnny will shake his head with a sad smile and tell you they’re no longer interested.

You grit your teeth. You’re getting so far ahead of yourself.

“You don’t need that.” The way he says it sounds so believable, convincing enough that you nod in stunned agreement. “We’re leaving now.” He directs, and then folds his entire hand over your collarbone to steer you through the crowd back to the little table. Johnny’s expression shifts when he sees you, flickering into curiosity and something else, something you can’t name, before it clears and he smiles at you, beautiful face changing into something brilliant that makes your knees go a little weak.

“Everything alright?” It’s asked so innocently, but he’s not looking at you, the person who’s currently being pivoted around like a doll, instead he’s looking at Simon, who rumbles a yes before jerking his head towards the door.

“Ready?”

“Aye.”

Johnny kisses you in the cab. Your back stays flush with Simon, and his hand has drifted from your shoulder to your waist, easy touch stroking up and down your ribs. Johnny kisses you, just like last time, with gentle passion. It’s soft and incredible, the feel of his mouth on yours, and you could melt into him, disappear inside of him, let him lavish you with sweet affection and dizzying kisses until you ceased to exist.

He kisses you over and over, until the cab is pulling up outside their building.

Until you’re standing on the sidewalk with the two of them, and he’s asking you that fateful question:

“Well, do ye still want to come up?”

Their bed is massive. It’s not surprising, considering their size. Johnny is not slight, and Simon makes him look of average build, so of course, their bed feels like an entire island.

It’s just so big, in this moment, when you’re lying in it alone, on your back, blinking up at the ceiling and trying desperately to not think about the fact that they excused themselves for a moment.

They’re talking about you.

You know they are. They must be. Even though they told you to stay put, that they were just going to get a few things, you can’t not think about them out there and you in here. Why else would they have stepped out?

You’re not even undressed yet; you could easily slip out. Make a dash for the door. Run while you still can. You could give them an easy out.

You rally yourself, swinging your feet over the edge and sliding on your little ballet flats, your favorite black ones that you wear almost all the time. They feel like a second skin, and it comforts you, to have something so familiar in a moment when you feel so out of sorts.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny asks from where the door has re-opened, and you freeze. Fuck.

“I was just going to go…” you trail off. Simon’s standing behind him with a glass of water and a pitcher of more, a folded bath towel tucked under his arm.

“Ye want to leave?” His face crumples so slightly, a shadow of disappointment appearing and disappearing with a blink. Simon’s body tenses, brow furrowing, watching his partner intently before flicking back to look at you.

“I thought, I-“ you swallow a dry lump that’s building in the back of your throat, and to your horror, a burning sensation starts to tingle in your nose. The precursor to tears. No, no, no. Fuck. “It just seemed like, m-maybe you… you guys changed your mind, and I didn’t- didn’t want to be in the way, here.” You spit the words out and they burn, embarrassment circling back to incinerate your good sense.

Simon’s eyes slide shut, and he takes a deep breath.

“No.” The water and towel are dropped onto the bedside table, and then he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, gesturing for you to take the spot beside him.

When you do, he pulls your hands apart, and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“It wasn’t right of us, to leave the room like that.” The bed shifts behind you, Johnny’s chest pressing to your back, his hand squeezing your upper arm sweetly. “One of us should have stayed with you, I’m sorry.” Your eyebrows raise.

“Oh, it’s fine.” You bluster, but deep down you’re surprised. Nearly stunned that they recognize their actions as a mistake.

“It’s not. I should have known it would bother you. I used poor judgement.” What the fuck? You cannot fight the way your spine straightens, muscles solidifying beneath your skin, indignation blooming across your tongue. How would he know? What kind of assumption is that? They don’t even know you; they have no idea how you feel.

It’s a lie, and you know it. They’re both learning you, you’re making it far too easy for them. Simon already watches you like he’s anticipating your movements, your words. Johnny already reaches for you when it seems like he knows you need touch.

But it’s just fun. Just sex.

You let out a burst of a breath, tension sagging away from your back.

“Easy.” Johnny murmurs in your ear, warm breath tingling across your skin. He punctuates it with a kiss to your temple, and then to your cheek, and you calm even more, relaxing into him. “We wanted to discuss some things with ye, boundaries, and such.”

Oh.

“Okay.”

“We know you haven’t done this before.” Simon pulls one of your legs onto the bed and massages your calf, nearly holding its entirety in his hand. “And we want to ensure that we’re all comfortable. Has anything changed since last week? Since we discussed testing and protection?” You shake your head. Your IUD is unchanged as ever, and your STI status being clean is still the same.

“Nothing has changed for us either.” Johnny chimes, fingers tracing across your clavicle. It tickles, and the flutter of a giggle slips free from your lips. Simon’s eyes crease, lifting at corners, and something flips in your stomach when you realize he’s smiling. “Ticklish, love?” Johnny whispers, mischievous, flirty, and you try to shrug to play it off.

“And your limits?”

“Still the same, yeah.” You lick your lips, eyes darting over to the water. The motion seemingly pushes Simon into action, and he reaches for the glass, pressing it into your hands with a nod. “Are we…” Your face is hot with anticipation, and your question gets lost when you trip over yourself. “Are we- I mean, am I… do you want to-“

“Not tonight. You’ll need extensive prep for that.” Simon soothes your frayed nerves. “If we all decide to see each other again, if this goes well, and you decide it’s something you want to try, we can discuss it and see how you feel.”

“Oh, okay.” You’re subtly disappointed, even though you know you shouldn’t be. They’re right, of course, and you try not to dwell on all the ‘ifs’ in Simon’s statement, about it going well, about everyone making decisions.

“Anything else?”

“The mask?”

“It stays on, unless the lights are out.” He answers quickly, and you gulp.

Most of your anxiety, your trepidation goes out the window once you get undressed. They both follow suit, and it’s thrilling, standing on the edge of something like this, with them, excitement flooding your veins, making your heartbeat faster.

They take you in slowly, hands roaming over your body, exploring you, feeling the way you curve and dip, touching your scars and marks, laying you on the bed, still clad in your underwear. Simon strokes down the back of your thigh, over your knee, and he murmurs something low, something you cannot quite make out, but whatever it is, it makes Johnny smile so big your chest hurts a little. He presses his mouth to your navel.

“We’re going to make ye feel so good, love.” He moves to drag your thong down, but Simon holds his wrist and pulls it away, shaking his head once. “We’re going to take it all away, all of the worries, everything going on in that pretty head of yours, yeah?” He whispers, and you breathe a whimper of need, of desperation.

“Please.” You’re still spread out for them, and Johnny leans over you, skin against skin. His chest, his entire body, is etched muscle, primed and perfect, and you can’t help but run a hand over his ribs, feeling the way his breath stutters. Beautiful.

His biceps cage you between them, and a sense of security falls over you, relief to be so close to him, to be pressed against him like this. It’s like happiness, but more, more than contentment, more than bliss, more like something you cannot name, and you file away the terror that you feel over it away for when you’re alone.

“So beautiful.” He whispers into your neck. “Have I told ye that yet tonight?”

“Only like ten times.” You quip, and he glides his lips down your chest, tongue swirling around a taut peak, taking one of your nipples in his teeth with a nip that has you gasping out a moan, desire pooling between your legs.

“What’s this?” Simon asks from where he kneels on the bed beside the two of you, tracing a thumb over the slice of a scar that carries over your hip, towards your back. It’s old, but you’ll always carry it, always get this question. Johnny tips over to inspect what’s being referenced, and his brow creases in concern.

“Christ, love. That’s jagged. What happened?” You shake your head.

“It’s nothing. Was in an accident when I was younger. That’s my souvenir.” They glance at one another, and you shrink inward a bit, self-conscious. The truth is too much, too awkward, too telling, to be confessed to these two.

Simon’s thumb is replaced by warm breath, and then Johnny is kissing it, so slowly, so tenderly it makes your heart ache, makes you gasp aloud, momentarily distracted from the drifting of Simon’s hand, fingers that graze down your waist, circling where you’re currently soaking through the cotton. He skims up and down the seam of your cunt, and you moan, hips jerking towards his hand, looking for friction.

When his thumb finds your clit, you squeak, and Johnny chuckles into your skin.

“Eager.” He hums, painting a warm trail towards to your thigh with his tongue.

“Responsive.” Simon counters, but there’s something in his voice. Something reverent. “Let’s take these off then.” He encourages you to lift your hips with a tap, pulling them free, your last scrap of clothing gone.

Johnny’s freed himself too, and your mouth pools with saliva when you see his cock, length curving outwards, flushed red with want, precome dotted at the fat tip. Your hand reaches subconsciously, and he steps forward just as eager, shuddering when you make contact, fingers curling around the satin skin of him.

“Can I?” Your mouth seeks, and they both give a resounding yes. Your tongue flicks over the head, salt and earth beading across your tastebuds, and you suck and lick in tandem with your fist, clutching him tightly, slicking him with your spit.

“Ach-“ He holds the back of your head, cradles it with gentle touch. He’s not rough with it, or demanding, and you take him as deep as you can, swallowing against where he’s lodged in your throat. You do it again and again, chasing the push of your nose into his curls, salt blurring your vision. “Shite.” He hisses, pulling away, cradling your face in his palms, and takes your mouth with his, guiding you back against the bed again, laying you flat with your legs spread wide, and you float in a hazy heat of warmth as he moves down your body, his mouth leading the way. His breath puffs over your cunt, hopeless need swelling inside of you with wild desire, your eyes round and nearly glassy, close to begging.

He looks to Simon once, and then licks a long stripe from bottom to top.

“Fuck.” You pant, his tongue pressing to your clit, your back arching with pleasure. You jolt under his touch, expert ministrations pulling noises from you that you weren’t even sure you could make. He eats like he’s starved, lavishing attention around your swollen clit, lighting your entire nervous system on fire, building the pleasure inside your body higher and higher. “J-Johnny.” He slides a finger inside of you, crooking upwards into the sweet spot that has you seeing stars, and a strangled moan punches from your chest with his attentions.

You’re floating, coming closer and closer to an orgasm, so buried beneath the mountain of pleasure that he’s giving you, that you’ve lost Simon. You don’t know where he’s gone, where he is in the room, what’s even happening until-

“Bloody hell.” Johnny enunciates into your cunt, the words vibrating against your flesh. Your eyes snap open and you crane your neck, twisting in the sheets.

Simon kneels behind Johnny, working him open slowly, hand moving between him, stretching him wide. It’s beautiful, the way he knows how to please him just right, the way they know each other’s bodies, the way Simon stares down at Johnny like he’s the universe and heaven, all rolled into one. Your breath hitches, and his eyes flick to yours, locking you in under his gaze. He holds you there, tendons in his wrist flexing, muscles in his forearm and bicep pulsing as he makes Johnny groan into you, his tongue nearly too much as you clench around his fingers. It’s so…intimate, an overflow of something settling between the three of you, the ghost of something that waits, so intense and overwhelming that you look away before you break apart.

It's too much. It’s not enough. You want more. Want to feel them both. Want to taste them like they taste each other, want to insert yourself inside their universe, soak them up, crawl inside of them, have them burrowed inside of you. You want them, need them, you-

Your orgasm smacks. It seizes all your muscles, lower belly tensing deliberately as you explode, star lit vision blasting across the backs of your eyelids. You make some sort of noise, you’re sure of it, something loud like a cry, or a scream, erupting from your shaking body, Johnny’s strength pinning your thighs wide, refusing to let your legs close, continuing to lick away at you, pulling zaps of lightning from your overstimulated clit. It’s a mixture of pleasure and more, more of the too much, more of the not enough, and you’re babbling something like ‘please, yes- more- oh god- too much’ when Simon praises you from his vantage point, watching over the breadth of Johnny’s shoulders.

“What a good girl.”

You nod on instinct.

Yes, you are good. Yes, you’ll be good. You’ll be good for them. Just for them. Only for them.

Your mind is slipping further and further, trying to turn off, trying to slink away and leave you to this bed, to these two men who seem to already know what you need.

The mattress dips, someone shifts, and then the room is dark. There’s a little bit of light that spills from the crack of the door, enough to see some outlines, some shadows. Enough to maneuver in, but not enough to make out anything distinct.

There are no hands on you in this moment, and the room is quiet save for the sound of something- something wet and soft sliding together for a precious second. You hold your breath.

“Right here.” Johnny coos, and then he slips two fingers back inside your cunt, his entry easy, your body weeping with want.

“Alright?” It’s Simon’s voice, close. Close enough that you can hear the pitch of the gravel, the baritone low in his chest.

“Yes.” You make your approval as definite as you can, remembering something he said last week, something about making sure you’re using your words clearly.

A big hand touches your neck, tentatively, searching until his palm is cupping your jaw. The fingers are wide, thicker, and you know it’s Simon. He pets you, strokes your skin while Johnny fucks you open on his own touch, and then you feel the breath on your lips.

The breath of Simon kissing you. The taste of you, of Johnny, the taste of the three of you together. His tongue crowds your mouth, snaking between your teeth, insisting you open, and you do so, eagerly.

He kisses you deep, curling his body over yours, pressing you beneath his shoulders.

He kisses you, until Johnny is moving, until your legs are now bracketing Johnny’s thighs, and the crown of his cock is brushing your cunt. You ache for it, for him, for both, and you spasm around nothing, just the barest touch of heat to your skin. Please, please, please.

“Please.” You whimper.

“Give it to her, Johnny.” Simon urges, even though it takes none, and you wheeze out a bitten off groan when he pushes inside.

“Mmmph,” You cry when he fucks into you, not seeking all the way, taking his time with small thrusts, working deeper and deeper with each plunge. He’s drawing it out, the pleasure, your noises, everything, and Simon drifts down to circle your clit, stroking the desperate nub. You scramble, hands seeking, hips moving with him, in time with both of them, sweat slicking off your skin. Johnny pushes your knees wide, and then stuffs you as full as he can, tongue tracing a bead of salt across your chest. “Fuck, ff- you’re so deep.”

“Ye take me so well, love. So good.” You bloom for him, for his words, and he groans when you clench at the praise, spurred on by Simon pushing you further along to the edge. Johnny picks up his pace, movements more frenzied, more hurried, rutting against you. You buck in response, unable to control it, fire burning in your stomach, your thighs. You’re going to come, again, it’s explosion just on the precipice.

“Oh my god, oh-“

“That’s it.” Your spine curls forward, pushing your face into Simon’s chest and he holds you there, whispering in your ear. “Come all over his cock like a good girl. I know you can, give it to us.”

It’s like a switch. The words, the feeling of Johnny’s cock buried to the hilt, the stroke of Simon’s fingers against your clit. You come violently, breaking apart, muscles pulsing around Johnny, and voice fracturing with pleasure. There are words being said, being exalted, something like “so good, so pretty when you come-“ and “is that little pussy squeezin’ you, sweet boy?” but they all blend together, dizzying and hot, like you’re holding onto a pan straight out of the oven. Johnny sputters, trapping your hips down, fucking you wildly through your orgasm, battering through the tightness of your cunt with stuttered words in a language you don’t know. He doesn’t stop, and you don’t want him too, even when you shiver and tingle with aftershocks. You want to feel him fill you, want to feel the spread of his warmth, the pressure of him coming inside of you.

Two bodies smother you, holding you until you’re not sure who is where, only that there are fingers, and mouths, and tongues, lavishing you and separating your mind from the rest, shoving you into a cloudlike plane of existence, flying you high in the sky somewhere. It’s bliss. It’s nothing you’ve ever had, ever felt. It feels right, feels so safe, so secure that it nearly overwhelms you, happiness and contentment brightening your soul until a warm tear is sliding down your temple.

“Gon’ come.” Johnny rasps out, and Simon says something in response, but you’re gone to the words, lost in the moment. All you can do is hold on, pleading for him to fuck you harder, fill you up, give you his come. Mark you. Possess you. Ruin you for anyone else. Except him, except Simon.

Maybe then they’ll keep you.

“Please, please- Johnny. Fill me up.” your hips chase his, his mouth pressing against yours. Now he tastes like you, and Simon, and you lap at him eagerly, breathing in his grunts.

“Ah-“ He shouts, and then slams forward, plugging deep, spilling against your cervix in waves.

Your eyes slip closed. Just for a fleeting moment. Floating. Riding high, riding away, melting into nothing. You seek them instinctively, pushing and kneading against their bodies, and they oblige you, holding you close, whispering sweet words in your ear, sweet praise that nukes you.

You’re safe here. It’s okay.

For once, you don’t snap back at yourself for being stupid. For being a fool. You don’t remind yourself of your flaws, you don’t count down the laundry list of the things that makes others turn away.

You just exist, between them. Happy. Sated. Bones liquid, chest loosening with a huge sigh.

A big hand strokes along your ribcage.

“Good girl.”

You drift for what feels like hours, even though you know, rationally, it’s not.

Slowly, you come back to earth, eased into back into your mind by the feeling of Johnny spreading your legs, opening you wide for him while something else is happening at the same time, the sound of his pleasure and Simon’s grunts, his accent roughening as he fucks his partner, praise flowing from his lips like a river. You stare through the dark at the shadow of Simon feeding his cock into Johnny’s tight ring of muscle, making him keen and wail against you.

“Good boy.” He coos, and Johnny moans, teeth sinking into your thigh. “Gon’ give her another one? Eat your come out of her cunt?” Heat floods through you, pussy clenching around nothing, and you whimper in approval.

“Please.” Your plea is not unheard, and Simon moves with an exceptionally swift thrust, forcing Johnny forward more, until his face is pressed against your leaking hole. He fucks you with his tongue, licking through the mess of wetness, your arousal combined with his seed, a mixture that he consumes like he’s dying, all over again, tongue flicking against your clit with frightening accuracy. He’s a god, a god between your legs, a god making you come for the third time, a god that doesn’t even belong to you, but your fingers grip his shoulders like he’s always been yours. He plucks your pleasure forward so quickly it nearly hurts, and you sob against the pillow, bucking your hips against him, cunt rocking against his face.

He keeps one hand pinned to your thigh, and the other finds yours in the sheets, breaking your grip free to replace the blankets with his grasp, keeping you tied to him, to Simon, dragging you upwards through the burn of your muscles to the cliff of another orgasm.

“Darling.” He hisses, vowels long on his tongue, fingers clutching yours. The cramp of muscles in your lower belly tenses with each stroke of his tongue, your body moving in time with his, his body moving in time with Simon’s. He moans into your cunt, strung out on pleasure, the dip of his spine curving like bridge between the three of you, connecting you, pulling you into the water with them, deeper and deeper until you can’t swim anymore. Until all you can do is cling to them, beg them to give you release, crying out when Simon pounds into him, thrusting into him wildly, forcing his mouth against you harder, matching the pace of your desperate hips. You drown in your orgasm, the same way Simon drowns in his, and Johnny tethers you both, keeping you steady, his body clutching onto the cock that’s buried in him while Simon strokes him to another orgasm, come spurting forward all over your belly, and the three of you collapsing together in a heap.

“You’re brilliant.” Johnny whispers in the dark, his chest pressed to your shoulder. “So wonderful, darling. Everything we dreamed of.” A warm washcloth sponges across your skin, wiping between your legs and over your stomach, followed by tender kisses.

“You were perfect.” Simon follows up, moving you to your side, pressing his front to your back. Johnny adjusts, and then your face is against his chest, and you’re listening to his heartbeat. “Such a good girl for us. Did so well.” You blink furiously, chasing away the overflow of emotions that are surging inside of you, clamoring to break free. Don’t fucking cry. Only a psycho, unstable nut would be crying right now. Is that who you are? The girl who cries in their bed after they’ve fucked you? No.

You keep your mouth shut instead, opting to sink back into the affectionate warmth of their bodies, closing your eyes and soaking in their touch. The threat of tears stays constant, lurking, waiting, and you force yourself to take long, deep breaths, that spin into a web of semi-consciousness, lost and floating between two pillars.

You shudder awake when Simon gets up to go to the bathroom, low light flicking on, and you know it’s time.

“I should probably get going.” You whisper. Ask me to stay. Say you want me to stay. Keep me. Johnny blinks owlishly, confusion rippling across his face.

“We’d like it, if ye stayed.” He rubs a palm down your arm, and you smile politely. He’s just saying that. Isn’t he? Tears prick along your waterline. “Hey, look at me.” You turn your head, but close your eyes, avoiding whatever will be staring back at you, hiding your own turmoil. “What’s wrong? Was it not good?” There’s worry in his voice now, anxiety, and guilt thrashes against your heart. Get it together. You’re making him feel bad.

“It was great. So great, you’re… you’re amazing. Both of you are. I- really enjoyed it.”

“So, stay the night. Stay with us, we can get breakfast in the morning. Ye can be breakfast in the morning.” He raises an eyebrow, and you can’t help the little smile that tugs at your lips. Fuck. God. Why is he so stunning? Why is he doing this?

The bathroom door clicks closed.

“Si.” Johnny implores, hint of insistence. “Tell her, we want her to stay.”

Simon stands with one knee on the bed, hand cradling Johnny’s thigh possessively. He doesn’t speak right away, just stares at you, watching over the mask.

“Why are you trying to run away?” Jesus christ. What is with these two? How are they so far under your skin already?

“I’m not. Just…” Lie. Make something up. “Just have a lot to do, in the morning is all. It will be easier if I wake up in my own bed.” Johnny huffs.

“It’s so late, darling. We want ye to stay.” He protests. Simon squeezes his knee, a firm hold, and looks down at him, something echoing across the two of them that you can’t discern.

“Let’s get her a cab.” He murmurs, and you shake your head.

“That’s alright, I can catch-“

“No.” There’s no additional, nothing further to argue. His denial is absolute, and you nod with a small smile.

“Thank you.”

The goodbye happens at the door. You’re dressed, face washed, bathroom needs attended, hair somewhat re assembled although you’ll need to properly deal with it before you fall asleep. You look halfway presentable, although if someone looked too close, they could probably tell you’d just been fucked within an inch of your life.

“Thank you, again. This was a lot of fun.” Johnny holds you in a hug, nosing against your scalp and then down, drawing you in with a languid kiss. It’s sweet, and perfect and you want to fall into him, let him take you back to bed and hold you close until the sun comes up.

“Text when ye get home safe, alright?”

“I promise.” He only releases you when Simon steps forward, and they trade places. He doesn’t say anything, just soothes a wide palm up and down your back.

Cloth covered lips press against your jaw, trailing upwards until they land at your cheekbone and then pull away.

“Call or text us, if you need anything.” He instructs, and the nod comes automatically.

“Okay.” Your fingernails press into your palm with a sting. “Well, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, darling.” Johnny rests his head on Simon’s shoulder, the mournful look on his face nearly enough to make you throw everything out the window and crawl back into their gigantic bed.

But you can’t. They’re not for you. They’re for each other. You’re just a passerby.

“Darling.” Simon calls when you get a few meters away, and you turn to look back at the pair, still standing in the doorway, watching you leave. He tilts his head, something serious in eyes, something that scratches beneath the surface. “We’ll see you soon.”

#peaches writes #dead disco #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #soap x ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #soap mactavish #ghost x reader

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berryhobii · 9 months

Text

7 Different Sheets (BTS OT7 x Reader)

Pairing: NonIdol!BTS x black!female reader

Word Count: 3,897

Warnings: Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), multiple partners, unprotected s*x(please be safe and speak with your partners before doing this), public s*x, spanking, oral(m and f receiving), doggy style, missionary, riding, mentions of a mating press, reader does a split on someone’s 🍆🫣, intimate s*x, car s*x, múltiple orgasms(m and f receiving), mentions of STD testing, mentions of being arrested, weed smoking(reader is alluded to have smoked but it’s not explicitly mentioned), overstimulation, praise, degradation, choking, gagging, panty in mouth stuffing, restraints(wrists), mentions of a break up, i also might have gotten the tiniest bit carried away with Namjoon’s part hehe, he definitely has me in a chokehold

A/N: Hi there! I’m here with my take on Seven by Jungkook ft Latto! I’m pretty sure someone requested something like this but now I can’t find the ask so hopefully they see this! I decided to include all of the boys in this. I absolutely love Latto and her verse in the song was just so good! And how could I not write gratuitous fuck buddy smut? I’m always open to criticism and please feel free to tell me what you think. Thanks so much. Stay safe💜

You had 7 fuck buddies.

Each of them were entirely different. Different jobs, different styles, different ways they liked to fuck you.

Just how did you fit all of them into your schedule?

Mondays were for Jimin.

You met him while out shopping with your friends. He worked at a luxury jewelry store. While your friends were busy staring at different charm bracelets, your eyes were focused on the rings on his hands—the way he twisted them whenever he was waiting for a customer to make a decision, how they glimmered under the bright lights, and especially how they’d look wrapped around your throat. Would they leave marks? Would he finger you with them on? Would your ass sting whenever he laid a harsh smack on it? So many thoughts yet so little answers.

“Does that feel good, my pretty slut?”

No words were in your head, your mouth stuffed with the panties he had ripped off of you. All you could get out were muffled moans and muffled calls of his name. Salvia soaked the material as much as your arousal did when you walked in his job, the fabric heavy on your tongue and slightly choking you which gave you a rush.

A sharp slap landed on your ass, his rings adding a pleasurable burn that made your juicy walls hug him impossibly tighter.

“Fuck.” He groaned out, eyes never leaving how your ass clapped back on him, cock coated in your creamy release. Sweat dripped down your back making your dark skin look like the most decadent chocolate, glistening like the gems displayed in the case below you. But not even those could compare to you when you were bent over like this.

Your hand slammed down on the display case, the sturdy counter shaking under the force.

Your walls spasmed around him, signaling your 5th orgasm since you came to visit him on his break.

His hand that wasn’t holding your hip moved to wrap around your throat, hauling your body up until you were arched. You felt unstable on your feet but Jimin was your rock, holding you up before your knees could give out of you.

He applied medium pressure to your throat, just barely pressing into your windpipe, stealing some of your already sparse oxygen from you. You felt dizzy like you were on a rollercoaster but one that never went down. Only up. And it was climbing and climbing until….

“This neck would look so pretty with a new necklace on it. Don’t you agree?” That low tone was enough to hurdle you right off the edge, eyes rolling back as you shook like a leaf in his hold.

And yes, your neck did look pretty in a new necklace.

Tuesdays were for Seokjin.

You met him at a wedding. Your “date” had gotten a little too friendly with the open bar which immediately turned you off. Not that you were that turned on to begin with. The man was nothing to write home about. Just someone who happened to approach you in a coffee shop.

After successfully detaching yourself from him, you were getting ready to leave before you caught the eye of Seokjin. He was tall and broad with a face you’d love to sit on. Respectfully, of course.

Conversation flowed easily between you two. He was a proper gentleman with a goofy laugh that made you smile. He was definitely the type of person your parents would love for you to bring home. Polite and respectful and not bad on the eyes either.

But that gentleman act went out of the window when he got you in his bed.

“Jin! I can’t take it!” You screamed, yanking at the restraints on your wrists that were keeping you stationary. You were surprised you hadn’t broken his headboard from how hard you were jerking. His neighbors were probably tired of the slamming against the wall by now, their own calls for you two to pipe down died down a while ago. Let them call the police. You’d be damned if they put you in cuffs before you got Seokjin’s cock inside of you.

He was nestled between your legs, holding your thighs back to have more access to your cunt. His tongue never stopped its assault on your clit, abusing the bud until your entire body was shaking. Your legs would jerk to try and close with every lick but one firm look from him quickly put you in your place.

His plush lips were soaked with your juices, dark eyes staring at you as if you had just personified from his dreams. You might as well have.

“Your pussy tastes so fucking good. I could eat it all day.” It sure felt like he has been. Your pussy felt both numb and electric at the same time. Sensitivity wanted to push him away but a desperate part of you was pushing you towards another orgasm. “You’ll be a good girl and give me another one, won’t you? You’re always my good girl.”

Fuck yes you were. Fat tears rolled down your face when he dove back in, sucking your clit in between his lips, his tongue flicking over it faster than before. Back arching, you screamed bloody murder as the strongest orgasm of the night engulfed your body.

Placing one more kiss on your throbbing bud, Seokjin backed up to let you breathe, stroking your thighs and whispering sweet nothings to you as you came down. Body still tingling from your release, you could barely blink through your blurry vision before you felt a shift on the bed.

A hand nestled in your sweaty hair, silk press gone to waste. You blinked through your tears, looking up to find Seokjin hovering over you, his knees on either side of your shoulders. His cock stiff and right in your face, the tip leaking precum.

He smirked down at you.

“Open wide, darling.”

Wednesdays were dedicated to Hoseok.

Honestly, you met Hoseok on a dating app. He was meant to be a quick one night stand since you were growing tired of your vibrator. After scrolling through a bunch of profiles and responding to a few messages, you came across him. He was a paralegal but apparently, he taught dance classes on the weekends which told you he definitely knew how to move. His photos were a sharp contrast to his job; bright and with him always smiling. He even had a picture of his dog on there which made you smile.

He was cute though and perhaps he’d be a fun night.

The pillow did barely anything to cover your screams, not when there was so much happening at once. You tossed it to the side, allowing your eyes to adjust to the glorious sight above you.

Hoseok’s head was tossed back in ecstasy, lip pulled between his teeth as he needlessly tried to keep quiet. You wanted to hear those noises, the way he cursed whenever you purposefully clenched around him.

“Hmpf, shit.” Just like that.

The pulses of the vibrator in your hand was making your arm numb but it was sending the most delicious vibes through your clit so whatever.

“Hobi…..”You called making him finally open his eyes and tilt his head forward to look down at you. You could have cum right there from how sexy he looked—sweat soaked hair sticking to his forehead, his chest littered in love bites you had obsessively sucked into his skin, and of course, the thin silver chain around his throat that bounced with every thrust. Take the wheel, Carrie Underwood.

He leaned forward, both of his hands moving from your thighs to place next to your head. His hips never faltered, keeping their languid pace rolling into you.

“Yes? What is it?”

“I…..I….can I cum?” Everything was moving so slowly. He had put the vibrator on its lowest setting so it wasn’t doing much for you and with this slow pace, he was prolonging your orgasm further than you wanted it to be. That was the thing about Hoseok. He liked it slow and intimate, going for hours until he brought both of you over the edge.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his chain tickling your nose.

“Not yet, my flower. Hold it a little longer for me.”

A particularly deep roll of his hips caused him to stroke slowly past your sweet spot, pulling a whimper from you.

Your bottom lip quivered, eyes tearing up from your waning orgasm. It kept building and falling but it wasn’t enough to push you over. And with everything that happened today, you think this is exactly what you needed.

A gentle touch.

“But….”

He shushed you with a peck to your lips. “Just relax. I’ll take care of you.”

Thursday’s were for Namjoon.

You met him at the gym. Don’t get it twisted. You weren’t really there to work out. Those few squats you did every couple of months were enough. That wasn’t the reason you had signed up for a membership.

It was because of the buff and drop dead sexy man that you often saw lifting weights. What exactly was the point of that tank top? Modesty? It looked like it was only soaking up the sweat that dripped down his honey kissed skin but it was failing at that too. Your tongue could do a better job. You’d lick every inch of that man for free and cook him a meal afterwards.

The steam of the shower was making it hard to breathe but Namjoon’s cock was making it even harder. When people told you to breathe through your nose, they factored out the cock being an absolute monster. You thought your jaw was gonna snap off.

Your nails dug into his yummy thighs, feeling the muscles tightened with every push of his cock into your warm and inviting mouth. You were definitely riding these things once you got back to his place.

“Damn, relax your throat, love.”

You happily followed his instructions, swallowing before exhaling through your nose. That allowed him to slide all the way home, your nose tickling the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock. Your eyes watered from the welcomed intrusion.

“Look at me.” He commanded from above you, the low tone of his voice making your pussy clench. Damn. Being a housewife sounded incredibly good right now. Patriarchy be praised.

Your eyelashes fluttered, looking at him and the sight was absolutely glorious. If he didn’t fuck you right now, you’d probably implode.

He must have seen that through your gaze because a dopey smile stretched across his face, adorable dimples indenting his cheeks.

Pulling out of your throat, you coughed and sputtered, swallowing a few times to soothe your sore throat. You barely had time to really cover before he was grabbing your arm and hauling you up. Legs draped over his buff arms, your arms scrambled to wrap around his shoulders. Now this position was the reason why bitches pull up to your mother’s house looking for you. You could feel the head of his cock sliding against your sopping cunt, your walls clenching in delight of finally getting what you want.

“Ready, baby?” He whispered in your ear before sucking on your lobe.

And no, you didn’t renew your gym membership.

Fridays were for Taehyung.

Funny enough, you met Taehyung while he was sneaking out of your apartment building. He was leaving a one night stand’s place and bumped into you while you were on your way inside. Of course, you could smell sex a mile away and the walk of shame was heavy on his shoulders. He actually tried hitting on you when he saw you, his eyes never leaving your cleavage.

You thought he was incredibly handsome though—a pretty boy type which you definitely liked. So you stopped him, told him to come back to you with a clean STD test and then you’d talk.

Taehyung had to will himself not to cum when you did a full split on his cock. Your hands kept your leverage on his knees, your head lolled forward from how his long cock was kissing your cervix each time, your legs stretched all the way out to give him the best view of his life.

He’s already cum twice, third orgasm almost painful but he just couldn’t stop. He didn’t want you to stop either(as if you could). You’ve been horny all day and you were going to get your fill of his cock. He knew you needed morning sex to get through the day yet he decided to go in for a shift at work, leaving you sad and desperate. The moment he walked in the door, you grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pushing him on the rug in your living room. You didn’t even prep yourself and he was hard while driving to your place anyway so foreplay was unnecessary today. Maybe you’d ride his face later and you’d use that headband he was wearing as reigns.

Until then, you were going to ride his dick until he gave out. Or until you got tired, whichever came first.

“I’m gonna cum again. Slow down. Please.” He whimpered, eyes stinging with unshed tears.

You whipped your hair behind you, the tips of your braids resting on his stomach. “Hmmm, give it to me, Tae. Fill me up again.” You leaned forward, bringing your hips all the way up to his tip before slamming back down. His cock was creamy with both of your releases, a wet smack sounding everytime you came down.

If this was how he died, put it on his tombstone.

“Oh shiiiiiiii….”His head thumped back against the floor, toes curling as you forced another orgasm out of him, the pulsing of his cock triggering your own.

You barely gave him time to calm down before you started your pace again.

He’d pick up another shift next Friday.

Saturdays were for Yoongi.

It was actually your favorite day of the week when you got to see the weed dealer. Not really because he let you smoke for free but because high sex was just another level. You met him when you were out one night. He catcalled you from his car and before you could even give whoever it was a piece of your mind, your voice got caught in your throat.

Your first thought was: man bun. Long hair in a man bun. Sexy ass drug dealer in a BMW with long hair in a man bun. Your parents always told you not to do drugs but how could you heed those warnings when temptation was served to you on a silver platter like that?

You gripped the headrest of the backseat, your breasts currently under attack by Yoongi’s expert tongue. The same tongue that had just ate you out like a champion a few minutes ago.

He pulled off your breast with a pop, delivering a smack to your ass with the hand that wasn’t holding his blunt. “Faster. I didn’t tell you to slow down.” His cat like eyes were hooded and glazed over from both the weed and the feeling of your tight walls hugging his cock. For a second, he didn’t even think he was high on weed—he was high on you. You were like an addiction; savory and hard to avoid, you were like a forbidden fruit. One he’d sink his teeth into everytime.

He brought his blunt back to his lips, inhaling a deep pull, holding the smoke in before blowing it back into your face. Just that action had you cumming on his cock, the feeling vibrating all the way to your toes. When he felt a splash against his pelvis, he dropped his head to look down at where you were connected. You were still bouncing on his cock, prolonging your orgasm and with each bounce, a small spray of liquid squirted from you.

He tossed his own head back, making sure to put his blunt in the ashtray on the door to prevent any burns to his upholstery before grabbing both of your ass cheeks in his hands and beginning to piston up into your spasming cunt.

“Bout to fill this pussy up. You want it?” He grunted against your collarbone, sinking his teeth into the skin there.

He had knocked all of your words loose so all you could manage was a frantic nod of your head and a drawn out, “yessssss yessssss pleaseeeeee”.

“This pussy is so fucking good.” He landed a slap on your ass, the sting sending shocks of pleasure up your back as another orgasm crashed into you.

You were so absorbed that you didn’t even hear the police sirens as they pulled up next to you.

Wow. You thought you were just imagining the car rocking. Guess not.

The end of the week meant only one thing.

You had deep cleaned your apartment, moving slowly since your body still ached a little from sleeping on that bench at the station. Good thing Yoongi had connections that could bail both of you out. Still, you’d probably risk it again if it meant getting fucked like that.

You had just lit a candle and you were about to sit down to have a glass of wine but you were interrupted by the sound of your doorbell ringing.

“Ughhhhhh.” You groaned, placing your wine glass on a coaster before hauling yourself up less than gracefully and shuffling to the door. You didn’t even look at the screen on your intercom, just opening it and immediately trying to close it back after seeing who was on the other side.

A foot jammed itself between the door, stopping you from shutting it completely.

“Baby, come on. I said I’m sorry.”

“Screw you, Jeon! I told you I don’t want to see you again.”

He managed to push the door enough to slip his upper body through. The sight of his face sent a weird rush through you but you didn’t know if it was good or bad. You didn’t like it.

His doe eyes pleaded at you. “Please talk to me. I can’t stand not being with you anymore. Please please. I’m sorry.” He sounded so genuine that it made you break, heartstrings effectively tugged on and strummed by the only man you truly loved.

You shouldn’t let him in. You really shouldn’t.

“Oh. My. God. J-Jungkook!”

His hand whizzed through the air, landing a hard smack on your bruised ass that has taken a lot of punishment tonight.

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear a word from you, you little whore.” He spit into your ear, hand coming up to cover your mouth while the other one held your hip to keep you in place as he delivered the deadliest back shots.

Your entire body was lit up in pain and pleasure, both mixing together in a beautiful cacophony that had you ready to propose to him.

Your moans were muffled by his large hand, his grip forcing your head back at an uncomfortable angle but he could give less of a damn about your comfort.

“How dare you let someone else fuck what’s mine?” He uncovered your mouth to slap your ass again in a tender spot causing you to jump, a high pitched scream coming from you as he pushed you into another orgasm. You had lost count a while ago, brain not keeping up with your body. Everything just felt endless.

You didn’t want him to know you were fucking other people. It wasn’t any of his business. You weren’t together anymore but am accidental slip up revealed what happened yesterday and in seconds, you were bent over the arm of your couch with Jungkook behind you.

“Count.”

He had made it to 21 before your knees were buckling, your eyes and mouth begging him to fuck you. To put you in your place and make you remember exactly who you belonged to.

He gripped at your hair, yanking your head back and making your body arch even more. Only your fingertips touched the bed below you, knees spread wide as you began throwing yourself back on his thick cock.

“I expect an answer when I ask you something, slut.” Contradictory since he told you to shut up earlier but logic was not necessary here. You were just a pliant little doll in service to the hunk of a man that was abusing your walls so good that your pussy should file a restraining order.

“N-no….I’m…ah! Fuck! S-sorry…..oh shit, I’m cumming!”

“That’s right. You come on my cock and my cock only. Do you fucking understand me?” He could feel his own orgasm building. He’s been holding back, a hard task with a pussy like yours but he managed. Denying all of your orgasms earlier made it easy enough for him. Then again, he did almost blow his load earlier when you put both of your feet behind your ears and held out your tongue for him to spit in your mouth.

He was an idiot for letting you go.

“I said, Do.” Smack! “You.” Smack. “Understand.” Smack. “Me?”

“YES!!! Oh shit!” Your walls clenched around him so tightly that it forced him out of your cunt, a long spray of liquid soaking the bedsheets beneath you. He brought his hand between your legs to rub furiously at your clit, splashing your juices everywhere. You’d definitely be upset later about your freshly washed sheets but he’d cross that bridge when he got there.

Your body jerked around as pure bliss and pleasure coursed through your veins, legs squirming all around as you both tried to chase and run away from Jungkook’s assault on your clit. He held your hip firmly, trying to keep you still while you rode out the waves of your orgasm.

When overstimulation began to get too painful, you turned over onto your side, pushing his hand away with your own. You twitched in the aftershocks, covering your cunt with your hands. Even the cool air was too much against your abused pussy. You’d probably have to take a break for the week just to recuperate.

When the haze began to clear a little, you slowly turned your head, peeking through your braids that covered your face to peek at Jungkook. Only to find him missing. You didn’t even hear him get out of the bed. Where did he go?

You waited a few moments, trying to catch your breath before Jungkook entered the room with a bottle of water. He was still fully naked, cock hard and angry looking, shiny with your juices.

He came over to the bed, placing a knee beside you to lean over your twitching body.

“Here. Drink some water. You need to be hydrated before I make you squirt again like that.”

Your eyes almost popped out of your head. Again? Was he trying to kill you?

“W-again?”

His lips quirked up into his signature grin, nose scrunching cutely and it made you want to punch him in it and then kiss it better.

“You think that was it? We’re just getting started. This will teach you not to give out what’s mine.”

It didn’t teach you anything though. You’d have to learn your lesson again next week.

And he’d teach you faithfully every Sunday.

#bts #bts smut #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x black reader #jimin smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #hoseok smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #taehyung smut

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

Note

Hi! I LOVE the way u write leo valdez and was wondering if u could do an x reader fic where she gets accepted to her dream college? Im manifesting lol 🤞🤞much love xx

OMG YES I'M MORE THAN HAPPY TOO!! ANYTHING FOR YOU ANON-

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ College Girls Do It Better, Duh!!

content: leo valdez x fem! reader warning: language, like the smallest amount of angst ig, stress and anxiety (the poster children of senior year) author's note: hi little miss anon!! congratulations on being my first ask by the way!! anyways, as someone who is currently fighting for my life to get through this last stretch of senior year, I feel year. I applied to my dream college since eighth grade early decision all the way back in november and got deferred. and i know this might be hard to hear and i know i didn't believe it at the time, but it was honestly one of the best things that ever happened to me. It allowed me to take a deep dive on who i am as a person and find actually interests outside of just that school. now, i've been accepted to another college in the same city (boston girl 4 eva) with a scholarship that covers more than half of my tuition and under a major I actually want to pursue (marine biology with a minor in journalism for anyone who was curious). ANYWAYS i've yapped on long enough and you're not even here for this little ted talk of mine. please carry on and i hope you enjoy this little bad boy i whipped up.

this was it: senior year. everything added up to this. finally! we’re in the homestretch, folks! gods, on top of stopping the world from ending every other summer, y/n had to keep good grades up too. she was more than ready to trade leo’s sweaters for a cap and gown, counting down the days to graduation. a break would have been greatly appreciated but the fates were never that kind. well, they were kind enough to give her leo, so they couldn’t be all that bad in her eyes. though, the pressure was starting to make y/n crack in ways she didn’t expect; the pressure that comes with college acceptances and, sadly, rejections. she felt like she was falling behind a bit, a lump growing in her throat and her chest tightening at every acceptance letter her friends got. of course, she was overjoyed for them and she’d buy them cupcakes and celebrate their accomplishments but she couldn’t help but wonder when it would be her turn. i mean, she slaved away over her college essay, she maintained the best grades she could, did all of the extracurriculars she could manage, on top of being a two-time saver of the world. something she, sadly, could not tell colleges. well, she told new rome university, but she figured they got a lot of letters like that. but, for now, y/n just waited…and waited…and then waited some more just for shits and giggles.

“today’s the day, right?” jason questioned as he walked with y/n towards their civics class. y/n swallowed thickly, nodding her head, although a bit reluctantly.

“y-yeah, early decision round two comes out today for new rome. now, no more talking about it or i’ll pass out," y/n told him and jason laughed, bumping his shoulder with her gently.

“come on, give yourself a fair shake. they’d be stupid not to-”

“don’t jinx it!! go find some wood to knock on, sparky,” the girl ordered in a panic and jason quickly rapped his knuckles against a door as they passed, the poor ceramics teacher peeking her head out to find no one waiting.

“okay, okay, no bad juju,” y/n muttered to herself following the boy's actions, taking a few calming breaths. jason gave her a sympathetic look as they took their seats, rubbing his hand gently over her tense shoulders. their eyes both went to the empty seat next to y/n before turning to each other with tiny smirks.

“i bet he’ll get here just as the bell rings,” mused y/n, trying to rid herself of her anxiety with humor. jason pretended to think it over, before holding his hand out.

“nah, he’s gotta be at least ten minutes late today,” countered jason and y/n shook his hand with a determined look. as the pair's eyes stayed locked on the clock, mere seconds before the bell would ring, leo came waltzing to the class, an iced coffee held in one hand and his keys swinging around in the other. mr. wright glaring at the boy, knowing he couldn’t give him the tardy he so desperately wanted to. leo made his way to his seat, kissing y/n’s cheek as he sat. y/n’s smile widened and her stress and anxiety began to melt away.

“for little miss smartie pants here,” he hummed, sliding the drink in front of her with a wink. y/n took a sip, shaking her head at him as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“lots of talk coming from someone who’s already been accepted with honors,” replied y/n, jokingly glaring at him though she couldn’t stop a proud smile from spreading over her lips. leo had a habit of underestimating himself and when he got accepted into new rome university on a scholarship to boot, he couldn’t really ignore it anymore. y/n was his number one supporter, buying him shirts and lanyards and pennant flags. leo rolled his eyes, slinging his arm over the back of her seat.

“they’d be stupid not to accept-”

“knock on wood right now!! what is with you guys trying to curse me?!” y/n bit out, shoving the boy in the direction of the wooden desk. leo knocked his knuckles against it whilst sharing a look with jason, who just shrugged.

“i’m just saying-”

“mr. valdez! if you’re just going to show up to disrupt my class, do not continue to show up!” mr. wright called, narrowing his eyes at the trio.

“sorry, mr. wright, but i do kinda need this class to graduate. if i didn’t, i guarantee you i would not be here right now,” joked leo, earning laughs from the rest of the class. mr. wright’s eye twitched as he stared at the boy before grumbling under his breath and returning to his lecture. leo held his head high after that, knowing he’d won for today.

the rest of the day seemingly flew past, y/n anxiously and constantly checking her email. after lunch, she sort of relaxed, somehow managing to convince herself that the email wasn’t going to come today and she’d just worry about it some other day. but, as she sat in her seventh period class, her phone buzzed on her desk. she didn’t think anything of it, determined to finish another math problem before she allowed herself a phone break. then her phone buzzed a few more times, her attention being dragged away from her math homework at the borderline constant buzzing. she huffed, picking up her phone before her eyes went wide and her breath tumbled out of her lips.

there on her phone she had an email from new rome university which read, ‘today’s the day! log into your student portal as your status has been updated.’ under that, and the root of the near constant buzzing, were texts from all her friends. leo was typing in all-caps, something about running to her class at the moment. her group chat with frank, hazel, and piper, the three other people who applied in the same decision group as her, had multiple texts about wanting to throw up and being too nervous to open it. annabeth had sent a text too, something about y/n being one of the smartest and sweetest people she knew and no college acceptance or rejection could change that.

ignoring all of them and feeling like she was in a haze, y/n unlocked her phone and got to work logging into her student portal and watching the spinning circle as she waited for it to load. bam! welcome screen, nothing new so far. y/n continued to breath, though she knew it was unsteady as she placed a hand against her chest, hoping to regulate her rapid heartbeat, which she could feel in her toes and hear in her ears. then she noticed a little hyperlink, informing her that her status had been updated. her finger hovered over it as hazel updated that she’d been accepted, promptly being followed by frank and piper. y/n squeezed her eyes shut, swiping away their messages and slamming her finger down onto the link. more waiting and then it finally loaded. she scrolled slowly, wanting to ease herself into rejection…

dear y/n l/n,

on behalf of new rome university, we are pleased to inform you that you’ve been accepted. congratulations! furthermore, we’d like offer you a scholarship for academic integrity, blah blah blah

wait- did that say accepted?! y/n’s eyes did a double take, which was growing increasingly more difficult as tears were starting to pool. her hands shook and she promptly stood up from her chair, muttering about needing the bathroom to the teacher before basically bolting out of the class. she moved quickly down the hall, her eyes darting around wildly until she heard the stomping of feet and the squeak of rubber on linoleum. leo rounded a corner at the other end of the hall, his eyes instantly focusing on the girl, on his girl. without a second thought, the two of them sprinted to each other, basically slamming against the other as they met in the middle. leo’s arms wrapped around her frantically, unsure of the verdict but wanting her in his arms either way. y/n curled into him easily, crying against his shirt, tears of joy but he didn’t know that.

“so?” leo whispered after a moment, cupping her tear-stained cheeks and looking down at her with what could only be described as unfiltered love. y/n looked at him before cracking a small smile through her tears.

“i got in. i- i got in, oh my gods, i got in!” she stated, growing more excited everytime she said it.

“duh! my clever girl! ooh, my clever college girl!” leo cheered, smirking down at her. y/n laughed, shoving him off as she reached up and wiped away some of her tears.

“whatever, you absolute hammer head.”

“there’s no getting rid of me now, baby. you’re stuck with me. wooo, we’re going to college together!” added leo, smiling down at her in genuine excitement. y/n looked up at him and leo could have sworn his bmp spiked, even after all these years.

“wouldn’t have it any other way,” she mused, reaching up and cupping his face before pulling him down so she could press her lips against his. easily, his hands found her waist and pulled her closer, as her arms draped over his shoulders.

the bell rang, school being out for the day, and as students flooded the halls, leo let go of his girlfriend and cupped his hands around his lips, screaming: “MY HOT ASS GIRLFRIEND JUST GOT ACCEPTED INTO A PRESTIGIOUS ASS SCHOOL! THAT’S MY GIRL RIGHT THERE!”

author's note cont. : I know what your all thinking, how could she possibly have more to say?!?! HA you underestimate my ability to yap. anyways, on a more serious note, I'm wishing you, anon and anyone else who needs to hear it, the best of best luck with colleges and whatnot. They'd be stupid to reject you and i'll proudly shove you all in my suitcase and take you to college with me. jk...unless. No, fr tho, don't let a rejection define you! Fate is fickle and will find a way to treat you to the life you deserve, don't forget it!! Anyways, now that I spent my whole night slaving away over this, I am off to bed, hope you guys enjoy and have great days!!

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #jason grace #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo hoo toa #pjo

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sinsinsininning · 3 months

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Can i request a luffy x fem reader who's his childhood best friend and they're both as dumb and hyperactive as each other (she followed and stayed him when he started his pirate journey) and they also like each other but arent together and theyre just two puppies in love

I love dumb idiot x dumb idiot, with a smidgen of oblivious mutual pining. I’m keeping this to pre time skip and kinda vague timeline wise. Keeping this as SFW since you didn’t specify just to be safe.

Hope you like it ✨

—————

You’d grown up attached to his hip, returning with him to Dandan’s house after saving him from drowning. He’d fallen off a bridge he’d made and into the fast river, his elder brothers, Sabo and Ace, rushed to help him. But you’d been faster, watching the trio from the shore and being a great swimmer/fisherman.

His brothers had been so grateful they’d offered you protection and dinner at their home, your own family was broken up by war and violence just like theirs so you accepted. And while Dandan hadn’t been happy about another mouth to feed, she’d thought having a young girl around would help the three wild boys settle down and act better.

It didn’t.

Everyone was dismayed to learn you were just as crazy as Luffy and equally stupid. Though you both had your brilliant moments and emotional intelligence, time and time again proved that though wisdom was chasing you, you were faster.

That’s how it’s been as kids, your adventures so intertwined Luffy couldn’t remember a time you weren’t by his side. Even Garp mistakenly called you his grandkid half the time and never held back his training or punishment on you either.

As you got older, your ambition remained unchange. You wanted to see Luffy become King of the Pirates, which is why you were the first to join his crew. Over time as your crew gained more members, you were a steady pillar of loyalty.

Loyal to your crew, your captain, and your captain’s stupid ass.

Some examples of your daily hourly conversations:

“If you could only eat one food for forever what woul-“

“Meat.” Luffy cut you off.

“Too broad be more specific.” You smack his chest lightly, it’s late at night and you’re both stargazing on the main deck.

“Cooked meat.” Luffy said after thinking a moment. “You?”

“Hmmm Ice cream. Or potatoes.”

“Mmmm now I’m hungry. Lets ask Sanji for a snack.” Puffy starts to stand but you yank him back down.

“Can’t remember, he’s still mad at us for putting a regular carrot in the bin with the baby carrots so they’d have adult supervision.” You laugh together as he lays still, the only time he can be still is if it’s with you.

Or.

“Nothing to see here,” You whistle lowly, trying to keep Nami’s attention on you as you whiddle. “Love being normal. Peak ordinary! That’s me, heh no problems here. No one’s ever been this average.”

“Are you sick or so- GODDAMN IT LUFFY!” She cuts herself off to try and whack your captain on the head, but it was too late, he’d already grabbed her slice of cake and ran off. The red head throws her book at you as you follow after him.

He saved you a forkful, the rest was gone the second he started running, but for you. For you he saved a bit.

Or.

“We didn’t come here to make friends.” Zoro says as he holds his blade to an enemy captain after a short skirmish.

“We came here to make Best Friends.” You interjected.

“Yeah!” Luffy gave you a thumbs up.

“Shut up you idiots or I’ll slice you!” Poor Zoro’s blood pressure was insane with the two of you.

Or.

“I’m not surprised you’ve gotten a bounty.” Garp sighs, tired eyes locked on Luffy. “But I expected better from you!” He rounds on you, shoving his finger in your face accusingly.

“Shishishi! Well that’s your own fault, nothing to do with me.” You and Luffy laugh as Garp chases after you. The old man doesn’t miss the way, Luffy looks back to ensure you’re still stride for stride with him or the way he takes the heated blows aimed for you.

But.

Overtime, your feelings are softer and softer for him, but you have no clue what this means. You notice the little things he does for you, the things he’s always done for you only. You watch him listen intently to Sanji’s flirting advice -that no one really asked for- and try not to feel weird about it. It’s only when Nami finally just announces that you’re both in love that you finally understand. A little.

“Duh.” Luffy says when she tells the crew.

“Yeah of course we love each other.” You agree wholeheartedly, but a small part of you wonders if that’s what she meant. Your suspicions are confirmed when she groans exhaustedly.

“No, you guys are IN love with each other.” Ussop says, trying to help her out.

“Huh.” Luffy says contemplating it, you don’t say anything for once. You don’t feel embarrassed, you never do really, but you do feel curious and warm. “Like married people?”

“Jumping the gun a little there, but yeah.” Nami says, feeling a little accomplished now.

“I don’t know about that.” You answer honestly, cocking your head as you literally roll the idea around in your mind. Luffy isn’t glaring at you, he couldn’t glare, but he’s certainly making a face.

“It makes sense.” Luffy announces, staring hard at you. “I mean I don’t wanna marry Hancock.”

“But you know that doesn’t mean you wanna marry each other.” Ussop interjects.

“Yeah it does, she just needs to ask.” Luffy says like it’s obvious, which frustrates his crew, except you and Robin of course. You aren’t even shocked by his answer, it did make sense, you didn’t want to date Sanji despite him asking multiple times. But if Luffy asked you wouldn’t say no.

“Luffy you know it’s traditional for the man to ask the woman, right?” Robin asks gently, though she knows the answer.

“Huh? Then why is Hancock always asking me?” Luffy looks to you for an answer, you shrug just as confused as him.

“No clue, i don’t think I’ve ever met a married person now that I think about it.”

“Huh me either, I’ve never noticed. Shishishi.” You and him laugh again, but this time his hand entwines with yours.

“God you’re impossible.” Nami shouts, stomping off.

“Those two are made for each other.” Ussop rolls his eyes as you and Luffy start talking about wether it would be better to be a bird or a fish.

“Yes, isn’t it lovely.” Robin sighs as she watches you.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader

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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months

Text

Confessions of a SWAT Team

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You and Deacon fell in love with each other, but didn't tell anyone. When officers closer to your age begin flirting with you, Deacon grows distant and won't tell you why.

Warnings: angst, fluff, age gap (not specific but I imagined ~15-20 years, so reader would be late 20s?), Deacon is protective, some arguing, mentions of insecurity, reader is somewhat shy, I used the term "suicide bomber" once in passing. Luca, Street, and Hondo meddle. I think that's all!

Word Count: 2.9k+ words

Requested Here!

Picture from Pinterest

Falling in love with Deacon Kay was easy. Telling anyone, including the man himself, is not so easy.

Deacon Kay never considered the idea of skydiving to be scary… until he found himself falling head over heels for you, the newest recruit. When you walked in on your first day, confident of your skills yet willing to learn your place in the team and receive feedback, he felt something new. You were quiet and reserved, willing to learn, and each time he complimented your skills or offered an idea to make something easier or for improvement, you opened up a bit more. More than attraction, there was a deep need to get to know you, to protect you, to stay close to you, and, later, to hide his biggest secret from you and everyone else. Deacon Kay was falling in love but knew it was wrong.

At the end of your probationary period, you and Deacon have a deep connection, secrets and all. His need to stay close and protect you has only strengthened with time, but every time he looks at you, sees your youth, and pictures the bright future you could have, he tries to silence his heart and listen to his mind. You’re too young and could do so much better, he thinks.

Two months into working with 20 David, you were trapped face-to-face with a suicide bomber. With no protection and no escape route, you maintained a brave act while hoping, praying, that your gear would keep you alive. With three seconds left on the detonator countdown, you feel someone wrap their arms around you as their shoulder blocks your face. The force of the explosion knocks you backward, twisting in your savior’s arms to land on top of Deacon. You feel the pressure build in your eyes as you yell at him never to do that again. He can never know, but his protectiveness scares you because it puts him directly in harm’s way.

After the bombing incident, Deacon gets closer. He puts himself between you and gunfire, taking several shots to his Kevlar while leading you to safety. During a raid with narcotics, a cartel leader jumps on top of you, and you struggle for the upper hand until Deacon hauls him off of you, finishing the fight on your behalf. After Deacon protects you, he always takes you back to the station, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back as he leads you somewhere private. He tends to your wounds and reminds you that he’s always there if you need to talk.

You want to talk to him more than anything, but Deacon is a Sergeant II, and he’s older than you, and, most importantly, he likely frowns upon inter-team relationships. So, you bottle everything up. Forever.

“You think he’ll ever tell her?” Street asks as Deacon walks out, close enough to you that your hands brush with every step.

“He hasn’t even told us,” Luca points out.

“Maybe we should do something.”

“Their relationship is theirs, guys,” Hondo interjects. “We shouldn’t interfere. Yet.”

Street and Luca smile at the thought of intervening in the future and seeing their teammates happy. They know Deacon is single-handedly responsible for breaking you out of your shell, but they’d like to see it go one step further.

✯✯✯✯✯

“She’s gorgeous,” someone says.

Deacon’s brow furrows as he hears voices grow louder. He tries to focus on the computer before him, looking for blueprints for an entry raid.

“Care for a friendly bet?” a second voice asks.

Several young officers dressed in street clothes stop beside the door where Deacon is working. He can see them, but they haven’t noticed him yet. His focus wavers when he thinks he hears your name.

“Of course, we’re still talking about her,” the first guy answers.

Deacon’s focus shifts completely, turning to face them. They’re close to your age and attractive, but what bothers him most is how easily they discuss their attraction to you.

“If you suggest a ‘first one to get a date with her’ bet, I’m out.”

“I was thinking more we see whose pickup line lands better, then we let her choose. She’s not a prize, she’s a person.”

Yet you’re planning to use her as an object in a bet, Deacon thinks.

“Were you at the range yesterday afternoon? She was there. I can’t believe how good she is. 20 David is lucky.”

“For more reasons than one.”

Deacon clenches his jaw as they walk away, still comparing what they've seen of your shooting and fighting skills. He watches you in awe, too, but they have a shot to get close to you.

“Focus,” he whispers to himself, facing the computer.

“Hey, Deac,” you call as you enter. “Hondo wanted to know if you found the property record? Although, I’m still arguing that this is a waste of your talents.”

You stop beside him, leaning against the desk and smiling at him.

“Uh, yeah,” Deacon answers, trying to look anywhere but at your beautiful eyes. “I got it.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great. Let’s go.”

You nod slowly before following him out. Two men call your name, and you look over, tilting your head as they beckon you over.

“I’ll be right there, Deac,” you tell him, tapping his shoulder twice.

He nods, watching silently as you walk to them. They smile as they say something quiet enough that he can’t hear. There’s a small smile on your face, and Deacon thinks you’re introducing yourself.

Pointless, he thinks, they know more about you than they should. Not as much as me, though.

The thought catches Deacon off guard, and when he looks back up, the taller officer is openly flirting with you. You laugh and push a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Deacon missed his chance. He walks away while you continue smiling at them, seemingly enjoying their flirtations.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’re uncomfortable; these officers are 1) flirting with you while you’re still working and 2) way too young and immature for you. Forcing a laugh and moving your hand to your hair nervously, you glance over and only see Deacon’s back as he leaves.

“Well, I’ve got to go,” you blurt out, interrupting the worst pickup line you’ve ever heard, “but it was nice to meet you.”

“Oh, okay. We’ll see you around?” one asks.

“I’m sure we will, we work in the same building,” you answer before realizing that it sounds a little too much like an invitation to come talk to you again.

Rushing to follow Deacon, you enter an office behind him, and Hondo immediately starts talking. You stand by Deacon, but he doesn’t look over and roll his eyes at Hondo’s bad analogies like usual. Fiddling with your fingers, you try to focus but wonder what happened. He could have a lot on his mind, or maybe you did something wrong. You decide to give it some time and hope that it passes.

20 David spends the afternoon training, and when you get in the ring with Deacon, you expect it to go as usual. Typically, you throw a few punches and have to beg Deacon to fight back and make it fair. However, today, Deacon has no problem immediately giving you a full-force hit. You step back and catch yourself before returning the hit. You lose the sparring round, and Deacon climbs out without a glance in your direction.

When you see him later while preparing to go home for the night, you stay quiet. Part of you hopes he’ll yell at you or something - anything to acknowledge you, but nothing happens.

“Goodnight,” you say as Deacon leaves the locker room.

He nods without looking at you. Your heart feels like it’s in pieces on the locker room floor, and you take a deep breath before gathering your things to go home.

“Heading out?” Luca asks as he walks in. You nod, and he adds, “We’re going out for a little bit, want to come?”

“No thanks,” you say quietly, closing your locker gently. “See you tomorrow.”

Street opens the door from the other side and holds it, his smile falling as you duck your head and rush past him.

“What happened?” he asks Luca.

“Deacon,” he answers.

“Want to tell me why Deacon is slamming doors?” Hondo asks when Luca and Street exit.

“Is it just Deacon?” Luca asks knowingly.

“Should we do something now? That distance isn’t safe in the field and if she’s nervous around him…” Street trails off.

“We may have to. She’s not the only emotional one, though. Deac looked a little green on his way out,” Hondo responds.

“What now?”

“Let’s see how tomorrow goes. We have the gala tomorrow night, so something needs to happen. And soon.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Sitting on your couch, you replay every event of the day. Obviously, you did something wrong, which is why Deacon is so eager for space between you. The only ‘bad’ thing that happened before he changed was the officers flirting with you, but you were still on time, so you didn’t do anything wrong.

If Deacon wants space, you’ll give it to him. It’s the least you can do.

The garment bag in your bathroom catches your attention, and you cross your fingers that the gala is enjoyable and not an evening spent avoiding and being avoided by the one man you’d like to dance with.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, brother, you clean up nice,” Hondo taunts as Deacon approaches.

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” Deacon replies, a small smile tugging at his lips. He glances around but doesn’t find what, or who, he’s looking for.

“She’s not here yet,” Street says.

“What?”

Hondo shakes his head, and Street takes his cue, excusing himself to let Hondo and Deacon talk.

“What happened between you two?” he inquires.

“Me and Street?”

Hondo rolls his eyes before looking pointedly at Deacon. “You’re jealous.”

Deacon’s eyes stray from Hondo, locking on something behind him. Turning his head, Hondo laughs when he sees what is more worthy of his friend’s attention.

✯✯✯✯✯

Stepping into the large ballroom, you barely have time for a full breath before the officers from earlier sidle up to you and begin talking. You smile politely and nod, not listening to what they’re saying, as you scan the venue for Deacon. When you find him, he’s standing beside Hondo. Hondo steps away, and Deacon’s eyes lock on yours, his brown eyes wide as his jaw clenches. The eye contact doesn’t last long; Deacon turns his back to you and disappears into the crowd. Your heart and smile fall, so the men surrounding you switch tactics, openly complimenting you, though most of it doesn’t affect you in the slightest.

“Excuse me,” you mutter quietly, pushing between them to follow Deacon.

You deserve an explanation, and you’re going to get one. It takes a few minutes, but you find Deacon standing in front of a fireplace in what appears to be a private office off the back hallway.

“Deac?” you ask, wringing your fingers in front of your stomach.

Deacon doesn’t turn around, but he can see you in his mind (not that you ever leave), with your hair styled beautifully, an outfit that flatters you in every way, and glassy eyes and glossy lips. No matter what you’re wearing, street clothes, your uniform, or formal wear for a police gala, you always look perfect to Deacon. Tonight, though, you’re practically begging to be kissed breathless, to be adored, and if he looks at you, he won’t be able to restrain himself.

“What did I do?”

The question presents your insecurity and shyness, which take Deacon back to your first month when you could barely look him in the eye, and your answers had a five-word maximum. He rubs his hand down his face, hearing you shift behind him.

“Please tell me what I did to make you do this,” you plead.

“You didn’t do anything, I’m just working through some things,” he answers carefully, his back to you. “No big deal.”

“If it’s not a big deal then why am I losing you over it?” you snap, your growing anger overpowering your sadness and nervousness.

“You’re not losing me,” Deacon says, sighing.

“It sure feels like it, David.”

You never use his first name, and the moment Deacon hears it, he turns around. He sees you and loses some of his jealousy and anger but says what he needs to anyway.

“I just needed some space to think,” he replies. “Is that wrong?”

“Needing space to think and avoiding me are two different things.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you-“

“Then why did you leave? Why haven’t you said more than fifteen words to me in the last two days?”

“Why didn’t you talk to me at first?” he asks, his voice rising slightly. He regrets the question immediately but can’t apologize before you speak again.

“If this is what talking to you is going to be like from now on, maybe I never should have started,” you admit, dropping your head as tears gather at your waterline.

“You don’t mean that,” Deacon says quietly.

“Just tell me why. Tell me the truth.”

Deacon doesn’t say anything, and you bite your bottom lip as you think. Deacon wants nothing more than to grab your face, tug your lip free, and kiss you until you don’t talk to him, not because he created a rift between you but because he steals your breath. You’re all he’s ever wanted and more, but the idea still terrifies him. The rejection alone could kill him, but having to see you at work would be worse.

“If you want me to join another team or something, tell me,” you demand. “But I deserve to know why you decided I wasn’t worth the lack of space.”

Deacon’s eyes race to find yours. “This is not about your worth,” he answers, anger spilling through. Not at you, though; at himself, at the situation he put you in, and at those officers who have a chance at what he craves most.

“Then why are you acting like you hate being near me?”

“Because I cannot lose another person I love!” he yells.

You freeze, unable to form a reply. Deacon takes a deep breath when he realizes what he confessed. Your silence is worse than yelling at him.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“I love you too,” you whisper, a single tear breaking free when you smile. “I’m in love with you.”

Deacon steps forward, closing the physical and emotional gap. Taking your left hand, he raises his to wipe your tears. His hand lingers by your face as you smile up at him.

“I was jealous,” he explains. “Those cops were flirting with you yesterday and you looked happy. They’re closer to your age and you have more in common. It made sense for you to go for them, not me.”

“Deacon, I was uncomfortable, not happy. I turned around to find you and you were gone and then you just kept getting further away. I want you, Deacon Kay. No one else.”

“Care to dance with me?” he asks quietly.

“I’d love to. I’ve been wanting to all week,” you answer.

His smile grows, drawing your attention to his eyes as he leads you back to the ballroom. You don’t see any members of your team as you walk onto the dance floor. Deacon leads, letting you lean on him again, something you missed in the short time it was gone. The song ends, and you straighten, preparing to pull away.

“I want you too,” Deacon says. “But I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

“Then don’t,” you encourage, smiling as you tap his hand twice.

Deacon smiles and pulls his hands from yours, cupping your face and kissing you without hesitation. You slide your hands up his chest to rest under his lapel. Deacon feels your heart race, his thumb against the pulse point below your jaw, but his beats steadily below your hand. With each of Deacon’s movements, more of your breath, more of your life, more of you becomes his.

“Aye, Deac!” Luca yells from the crowd. “Way to go!”

“About time!” Street adds, leading a round of applause from the entire LAPD.

Deacon pulls back from you, smiling when you hide your face against his neck. He sees the flirty cops from earlier awkwardly clapping with the crowd. His hand rubs up and down your back, glad that everyone, you included, knows that you’re his and he is yours.

“Told you,” Hondo teases as he walks to Deacon’s side. “Green ain’t your color.”

“He only means figuratively, you look good in everything,” you mumble against his skin.

“Want to get out of here?” Deacon asks, his hands still on your back as he holds you against him.

“Please,” you reply, tapping his chest twice.

He leads you out, stopping you after you’re outside.

“Why do you tap me twice?” Deacon asks gently, his arm around your waist and his jacket over your shoulders.

“It’s the only way I could tell you without actually saying it,” you say with a shrug.

“Say what?”

“That I love you.”

Deacon smiles, tapping your waist twice as he moves you to stand closer to him.

His lips meet yours again, and when your hands reach his jaw, you’re not sure where you end or Deacon begins, and it’s perfect. Deacon Kay was easy to fall in love with, easy to be in love with, and he was absolutely worth the wait.

#david deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #deacon kay fluff #david deacon kay #david kay #deacon kay #swat cbs #requests

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aconflagrationofmyown · 8 months

Text

but then…Gigi

Part 4 - A Big Daddy Elvis Fanfiction

Previous chapter link for context, picking up where we left off

I owe so much thanks to my friends for all their help and input and the joy they bring me, thanks to them and my precious followers this fluffy/wacky little universe even exists. I’ve never had so much fun on a collaboration before in my life, I love y’all so.

Warnings: 18+, sexual content and heavy themes… ok so this is smutty and fluffy, right? But still there are some things that might be offensive regarding narrator’s voice so I want to warn about those and distinguish them from my own opinions. For much of this part we are in Elvis’ head and, due to it being summer of ‘77 -it’s a bit of a rollercoaster in there. Please be warned there are throwaway lines reflecting poor self esteem, depression, misogyny, severe health issues and the use of the word fat to describe oneself negatively.

Enjoy

💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄💄

Elvis feels a pang of sympathy for his boys’ hysteria when he runs into a crowd of fans as he himself sits panicked in the Stutz, engine off and his shades on, watching Gigi check that the coast is clear on the sidewalk and buzz into her apartment building -in just his jacket and panties. Her sandals are gone somewhere, too, probably back at Graceland. Only that anklet left on like some harem jangle.

Her sooties must be burning on the sunbaked concrete, maybe that’s why she’s skipping everywhere she goes like a damn foal. His blood pressure feels like it’s skyrocketing just watching this show and the fact she looks like she’s in her element terrifies and excites him and -getting to know Gigi is a dangerous hobby.

As shameless as a toddler that one, and every bit as unpersuaded about needing to give a shit about things like flashing her butt cheeks for all of Memphis.

Her tanned butt cheeks.

Which brings up all sorts of questions he’s too scared to ask and will have to address with Tammy. He’s sure she’s to blame for nude sunbathing, he just hopes that wildcat has enough decency to do it privately. Very privately. Hopefully in a bullet proof bunker if Gigi is with her. This girl has been directionless and fatherless for too long; Elvis’ mouth dries out in anticipation of being that guiding, molding, firm hand in her life -the rest of his body too sedated to respond normally although he feels that weird ass dribble his pecker has recently started to do when it’s very much willing but can’t physically swell to poke a gal. He thoroughly regrets not wearing underpants to catch some of this… horny… pre-cum…incontinence…the baby blue of his tracksuit showing a small stain on his leg. Just the size of a penny. Maybe a quarter.

He takes his glasses off and rubs at his sweaty eyes.

Gigi is standing in the opened doorway, waving him in with a huge, expectant smile on her face, and feeling something he hasn’t felt since 1955 sneakin’ into Barbra’s room, he lumbers out his side of the car and doesn’t even bother to make sure no one’s looking, even though she whipped her head around to clock their surroundings like top paid security for his sake. If someone sees and thinks he’s going into a college girl’s dorm to corrupt her then they’d be right, and it'll make far prettier gossip than what’s coming out in Red’s book next month.

He slips past her and she runs her hand along his chest as he goes by, giddy and fond. She waves to someone behind his back,

“Hey Paolo! Good afternoon!” Elvis turns just in time to see an old shriveled man in an undershirt waving wildly at her as the door shuts.

“Who’s that?”

“Our repairman. Sweetest little man.” Gigi gushes and Elvis motions for her to lead the way up the stairs while speculating with nauseating surety on what Gigi might be found wearing -or not wearing- when dear sweet shriveled perverted Paolo makes up a problem with her sink and comes into her apartment. “He’s taught me how to make Limoncello jello! You won’t find anything more refreshing!”

“How very epicurean for a regular, ole handyman.” he can’t help but grumble, usually highly self-aware and unbiased for the potential learnedness of common folks. He knows he’s one. But right now he wants to make a carpet from Paolo’s nose hair.

“What does epicurean mean?” Gigi doens’t without missing a beat as she unlocks her own front door.

Now they’re back on solid, Elvis-worthy ground, he can smile indulgently as he enters her space and explain, “Somebody who likes to in-duuulge in the luxurious and the sensuuaal, it was a whole philosophy.”

“Oooh, that explains why I didn’t understand.” she giggles, “I’ve flunked philosophy twice and I’ve got a whole pile of papers over there that’s supposed to be homework but a hero of mine invited me to go swimming at his place so, there they sit!” she shows off a rather alarming stack of papers next to the poorly made up bed, half hidden by the swim suits and cut offs strewn about the carpet. “Sorry for the mess, a lotta the girls got ready over here and wrecked it. Half of it is mine though, you should’ve seen the things they suggested I wear for you! Thongs, Elvis! Actual thongs! And here I was unsure if you felt just fatherly towards me or what so I- I didn’t wear a thong.”

Elvis takes a seat on her bed since he figures they’re now past being modest about what they’re gonna do and asks, “What’s a thong?”

“You don’t- it’s this sorta thing.” Gigi is a little shocked that this man of the world doesn't know such a thing and spins around a few times before finding a very small scrap of fabric and bending over, she picks it up. Elvis forgets what she was getting off the floor for a few minutes before she starts spreading the fabric strings apart and pronouncing, “This is a thong!”

Elvis squints his eyes as if trying to see a ship on the edge of the horizon or something, “I don’t get it.” he says at last, “How’s it work? Go around your neck?”

“No, silly!” she giggles even harder in shocked exasperation, “It’s panties.”

“No way in hell.” he sounds awed, “No way, how in tarnation does that work?”

“They’re like…very little, small, tiny panties!” she explains with a hyped tone as if the more enthusiastic she is the quicker he’ll get the mechanism.

“That -those ain’t gonna hold or cover nothin’.” he insists, “Now you’re the one pullin’ my leg.” he notices there’s a magazine with his face on it stashed under the teetering bedside lamp and makes mental note of that before leaning back against her massive stuffed bear.

“They’re not supposed to work, they’re supposed to be sexy?” she tries again before playfully putting them on her head and striking a pose.

“Sexy, hmm?” he rumbles, his eyes twinkling and she knows she’s got his interest at least, whether he’s fibbing ignorance on knowing about thongs or not, she can’t tell. Suddenly it strikes her that Elvis Presley himself is lounging on her bed, leaned against the stuffy she grinds herself on to the thought of him pretty regularly. Suddenly having his jacket zipped at all feels oppressive from the rush of heat that sight floods her with.

“If they were for comfort we’d just go without.” she laughs, “They dig up into your…” she looks about before dropping her voice and taking a couple steps closer to him, “butt crack.” she blushes furiously at having to name it and his fingers itch to do unspeakable things to this little girl.

“Show me.” he says, low and steady and a little removed, just cool enough to be commanding, just warm enough to make her feel (very) admired. He sees her sweet blush turn into droopy lidded arousal before his very eyes and with meek acceptance she hooks her fingers into her swim bottoms without a pause.

They drop to the floor in a nylon puddle between her legs. Just like that. Simple as that, her bare little pussy lips are peaking out from his jacket at him and she smiles gently at his shock as she hooks her legs through the thong’s leg holes and shimmy’s the stupid excuse for lingerie up her stems. “It’s just you, daddy.” she explains in a confidential whisper that melts his heart.

“Yeah, jus’ f’me, baby girl.” he makes a pronouncement of his own, hushed and boyish and her own heart feels too big for her chest at the way his blue eyes somehow soften in wonder at her exposed self. She had expected something rougher, ravenous, impetuous. Not this revenant appreciation that bends his whole frame towards her with open mouthed puffs of longing. He aches, wishing he’d brought his Polaroid to snap this memory forever, add it to his collection. A little something tangible he could thumb at it in the future and remember this night when an terribly hot, painfully young, big tittied woman had wanted him.

“Will ya do a lil spin f’me? Wouldn’t want that wedgie to go unappreciated, now would we? So sweet to try it on for me.” he coos and then hums deep and appreciative as she does a couple slow spins for him, that humm she’s only ever heard in amplified concert footage sending sparks to her very toes.

“You like them?” she asks, toes curling in nervousness for his verdict.

He lounges back and strokes his mouth a few times while cocking his head to the side. She’s breathing so heavy he thinks if he even blew on her she’d come. “They’re practical.” he decides definitively.

“Are they?” she sighs with relief.

“Mhmm,” he mumbles soberly, “quite. For what we’re up here to do, they’re practical.” he adds this slowly and doesn't miss her shudder or the way her eyes light up in relief that they’re getting to the point. He likes that she’s letting him lead, she’s a good girl. “Step closer baby.” he stays lounging so she does all the work and when she gets to the edge of the bed he keeps motioning with his fingers until she’s kneeling on it herself, clambering forward over his lap. “See, when a man makes a meal of a lady’s lil garden, s’real important to have unrestricted access.” he proves his point by slipping his index finger along that abominably small seam of fabric that’s poofy and filled out with bare labia lips.

“Daddy.” she wails at the contact, shaking apart already and that along with her little place has his head thudding some kinda way. She’s gripping onto his neck, near clawing whatever part of him she can grab, close to tears again like a child not getting what she wants. The art of the tease seems lost on her, she’s so hungry.

He’s gotta ask. “Honey, y-yo- honey you ain’t actin’ younger for my sake, are ya?”

“Oh no,” her face turns down again and he’s done it again, insulted her somehow, “you find me immature?”

“No!” he shouts and then tries to moderate himself, “No, no it’s jus’ that -you’re a baby, thas all.”

“Well,” her grin is guileless, “you’ll just have to bear with me, big daddy, I’m all so excited I’ve got Elvis Presley in my room! Elvis Presley! You’re Elvis Presley.”

“I-I-I am.” he admits, perturbed, “What’s wi- why Big Daddy?”

“Cause that’s what you are!” She says it like she’s assuring a pageant queen she won the prized title. “Elvis Presley’s about to eat my pussy.” she murmurs to herself as she kicks her feet and he recalls yet again that he is sat down on her fluffy pink bed for a reason. He tips her over into the sheets.

“So uh, you’ve thought of this before, hmm?” he smirks slyly and reaches out to clasp an ankle in his big, ringed hand, his tanned digits encircling it entirely and he thumbs at the veiny soft spot beneath the ankle.

Gigi moans at his slight pressure.

“That’s a pressure point for the reproductive system, did you know that sir?” she is as eager about information as he is, and clever too.

“So that’s why all the girls lose it.” he hums with a laugh, “No, Gigi, I didn’t know tha’, you like gettin’ rubbed?”

“YES!” she sighs so loudly it’s like a little wind tunnel through the room, “Though it doesn’t happen much.” That makes his heart hurt in sympathy and he adds his other hand to knead her toned calf, those legs of hers spreading jello, just like he calculated they would, “I love to rub folks though! Love givin’ people rubs.”

“Who do ya rub?” Elvis is cross at this new information.

“Oh, anybody who needs it!” she makes it worse.

“Lotta demand for that at Uni?”

“Yeah, so many sore athletes after games.” she is perfectly sober about it, while so enthused he wants to murder every person those sweet hands have descended upon in soothing kindness. “But I think you’re the best I have ever had do it to me, oh Lord you’ve got magic in those hands.”

He’s tempted to tell her how true that statement is but he can’t bear her laughing at him right now so he leans further across the bed and inches towards her knees with his squeezes and tries to elicit more of those moans.

“Oh god I can’t believe Elvis Presley is rubbing my legs.” she gasps again to the ceiling and it’s this youthful narration of her life happenings that makes him think of his Yisa and if he could he’d put both of these little darlings back into their fragile eggs to keep them away from the cruel world.

“So, you done thought of this before, baby girl?” he asks, casting a little smug look over at that ponderous stack of his records and the TV set stationed right at the foot of her bed. He knows the answer already, thanks to Tammy, but it nags him, the question of which Elvis she was touching herself to after her first visit to his house. Her closed eyes and near drooling mouth give him the idea that if he’s good enough at this, puts enough effort into being what he used to be naturally, she can keep those pretty eyes closed and he can morph back into whatever daydream she’s once had. He could give this pretty little girl a little time capsule and before she’s fully awake, slip away again, leave before she recalls it was the gift of an old man, his potency gone to seed but his love for women and their secret parts just as strong.

He bends over, gut digging into his diaphragm and knocking out his wind, presses a kiss to the inside of her knee. “Tell’me ‘bout when you thought of me.” he murmurs into her warm skin. He notices he leaves goosebumbs in the wake of his touch.

“Mmm?” she’s goners with just this firm kneading of her limbs, breathing heavy and sedated from lust.

“Have ya thought of me when you’ve played with yourself?” he’s a little sterner than he should be, just because he knows the answer and wants an honest reply.

“Oh yes.” she gives it, unabashed.

“Is it my movies? Ya watch my movies when ya touch y’self?” he prods, working up to that baby soft stretch of inner thigh that still seems like the most fragile of all God’s creation, like cotton Candy holding ligament and muscle together by some miracle. “Or ya prop up that record right there?” he pulls his head up long enough to point at the foremost record cover in the stack -Live From Madison Square Garden, it reads, and features him silhouetted against black, crouched in a white jumpsuit.

A more mature option; interesting.

Gigi opens her eyes and cranes her head to see what he’s pointing at. “Oh, yeah, sometimes that one,” she nods, “it’s the closest thing I could find.”

“Closest to what, the genuine article?” he snickers in judgment, “It’s goddamn cardboard, at least watch a movie like a normal pervert.”

“The closest to how you are now!” she pouts adamantly, “You’re so…smooth… in all your movies. Nothing like how I know ya when you drive past on the street.”

Well, that’s something else, even if Elvis doesn't quite get what that something is. It’s absurd, the fact she existed all along on some sidewalk he sped past. “How’s that now, honey?” he asks.

“I couldn’t find anything closer to what you are now!” she explains, “Nothing since Aloha and -well I like that one, don’t get me wrong but I,” she bites her lip and a skittish flinch settles into her eyes.

“What about that one, darlin?” he begs softly.

“Well I like how hairy and strong ya look but,” she doesn’t look down or away when she gets to her point, instead she bends forward to be nearer to him, to hold his hands as they lay on her legs, to peer into his eyes gently, “you seem too sad in it for me to -to use it like that.”

He’s touched, so much so he swallows hard and dips his head to kiss her knobby little kneecap. “T-that were a rough time in my life.” he admits and his voice has gone wrecked. It is odd beyond words how he feels like she’s a child to be protected but just like a child at a sleepover he can duck under the covers and admit his worst fears to her.

It all goes back to being proportionally heartbreaking as Gigi leans forward and makes him lean back, clambering methodically back into his lack as if she owns the damn space, holding his furry cheeks tenderly as she licks those luscious lips and slots them against his. This he is familiar with, nothing odd at all about this age old ritual of him being seductively depressed and a girl soothing it away with her tongue and hands in his hair.

He allows himself the liberty of stroking her bare back beneath his jacket, figuring if he’s gonna lick beaver he might as well do a little seducing beforehand, cherish her like she deserves, give them both the works. As much as he can give with this dull headache and the meds making him feel so leaden he could fall asleep in seconds. He takes a breath and tries to clear his head, focusing on kissing her well, kissing her better than any of those stupid young jocks ever managed.

Back at making a case to her that he could make her happy. He doesn’t know why he keeps trying that argument when a couple decades worth of broken hearts and homes behind him suggest otherwise.

“Wanna see what I used to pretend it was you?” she tempts against his lips as they surface for air, sounding so demure yet utterly unrepentant even as she confides, “After you petted me and sent me home I needed you so bad, couldn’t find anything that felt like you now, so I shut the tv right off. Grabbed my stuffy ‘cause he was fuzzy and had a belly like you and then I grabbed…here, wait here, don’t you move now!“

Her little butt is already bouncing out the room into the en-suite before she finishes the sentence and he is left to sit on the bed and await her return, processing the fact she had wanted hair and a corpulent figure.

Bizzare taste, definitely dealing with father issues, painfully sweet.

He groans in recognition that she’s entirely to his own taste.

She comes back holding the most bulbous bottle of shampoo he’s ever seen in his life. The size of his damn fist easily, bright yellow and shaped at the top like like a lemon an- hell it’s even named “Lemon-Something-Or-Other”.

“I used this!” she proclaims with a giggle that jiggles her whole body.

Elvis just stares, torn between impressed and horrified. “You’re tellin’ me that…thang…fit up your lil cooch?”

“Well, no,” she admits, mood immediately deflating in disappointment with herself, “but I’m working on it! Or maybe I don’t have to, now that I’ve got the real thing, as you call it!”

Gigi bites her lip and winks in an attempt to be seductive and it’s the most ludicrously jarring thing Elvis can imagine, he roars with laughter at her art of being a cock tease without trying and a total clown when she does try.

Oh fuck he’s in love. Yeah, already established that awhile back but, it’s just, it’s hitting him again.

“I think you’ll find the real thing a bit disappointin’ by comparison.” he wheezes, too amused to be insecure.

“Oh really?” she perks up in palpable relief, “Oh thank jesus! That thing’s huge and I was gonna try for you but- but -but it’s huge! And I was just gauging from what I saw floppin’ around in your tracksuit that night and I was trying to not be obvious, so I couldn’t exactly clock it real good but it looked awfully wide, like a paper towel roll when it’s halfway gone and this was the only thing I could find like it, I wasn’t going to use anything of Tammy’s and besides they weren’t fat either so I just…” She trails off with a shrug, still standing there before him holding the fuckin’ Lemon Drop Shampoo.

She’d tried not to be obvious, she says, but he’d caught her staring well below his belt half a dozen times in two days. “So,” Elvis is still wiping the tears of amusement from his eyes, “so ya used a shampoo bottle and a teddy bear.”

“Yeah.”

“And did it work?” his eyes darken at the prospect of hearing her tell him this naughty story.

“Sorta.”

“How can it ‘sorta’ work?”

“I came,” Gigi sighs, “but I felt so empty..after. Cried myself to sleep” her embarrassed giggle does not deceive him from the certainty that she’s telling the truth.

“Oh baby, what’re we gonna do with you?” he asks her and God Almighty all at once.

“Hold me, please?” she whispers.

“Course, baby. Nothin’ I’d rather do, get over here,” He holds out his arms and she cruises in at a deceptively fast speed, colliding back into his chest and tucking her face into the crease of his neck, she’s pressing kisses there into that sweaty fold and he rubs her back, traces the dip of her waist, the slow curve outwards of her hips, thumbs at the flimsy material of her panties. Feeling her soft skin and treasuring it. Wondering what she’s thinking and not knowing she’s thanking God she gets to be held by him.

“You make feel so safe.” her breath ghosts over his face and he’s not sure how it’s so fresh and lovely after scarfing down burgers and cherry coke but he can’t get enough and he grabs her face as gently as he can manage with this much wonder filling him in a rush.

He’s pretty sure she ain’t ever had a chance to kiss with tongue, she’s eager to slip hers in but she’s got that petrified immobility of a gal who’s never gotten the chance to give and take, just give while some stupid rash boy slobbers and knocks her teeth.

Elvis is quite good with his tongue.

He flicks at her tongue, he waits, taps her butt until she gets his prompt. She flicks. He trails it alongside her own, he waits. He taps. She mimics. They get a good commerce going and soon she’s squirming and writhing in his lap while he stays put, his patience and experience a buoy for her as she flounders with so much desire she doesn’t know how to cope beyond undulating against him and tugging at his hair, their mouths wide and uncaring, devouring.

It’s fun with a girl leveraging down on him from his lap, one might think it would put him at a disadvantage but it doesn’t, he turns her silly head with a firm hand at the nape of her neck, and she’s just a dolly up there for him to work against his mouth. Rather like how he’s gonna work her pussy if they make it that far. For now, there’s this age old dance and her pretty breaths.

He sucks her tongue and she lets out a cry that’s distorted by the absence of any control over her own tongue and suddenly he can feel her move more frantically, fumbling between them until he hears the zzzz of the zipper as she undoes her jacket front and frees her full breasts like the thin cloth was suffocating her. It becomes clearer what she needs when she continues to fumble between them, unsatisfied, until he feels his own taught closure opening and the fan air hits him and goosebumps spread and shame flares and then it’s unity. Their chests meeting, pressing, soft and warm and she shudders against him like she just touched a force field.

She mewls into his mouth again and traces his puffy lips with the tip of her tongue while he breathes. “Feels so right.” he realizes in a mumble.

“Mhmm.” she says as she presses more kisses to his panting mouth. Gigi reaches between them once more and he watches cross eyed from the closeness as she hefts one boob up and presses it between them more firmly, before repeating the procedure with the other until, until they are smashed to her satisfaction. Then she starts grinding, those fat titties of hers, against him with the rest of her- against his hairy, saggy man boobs, she’s dragging her nipples across him and worrying them red with his rough texture, her toes curling from the friction. Her nipples are pebbled and she’s crying out, can’t stop moaning or calling for God because he feels so good against her. Cradling her boob her fingers press selfishly against one of his own nipples and lil Elvis wants to fight against his induced state, desperate to twitch for this pretty girl’s attention. “Oh god, you’re so hairy, like a nest! So perfect and manly and, I’m gonna, let me, let me please, please oh god, feels so good!” she’s working herself up to a squealing frenzy going over one particular patch of ratted curls… from…rubbing her pretty nipples on his chest hair.

Elvis just sits there and computes, watches, like a green boy, Gigi’s cradled boobs, her gaping mouth, her long throat and her cramping widdle sooties. God, what he’d give to suck those curling little piggies.

He’s hot as a furnace, this man, and those coarse, wiry curls are zapping her already throbbing nipples until Gigi can’t seem to breathe, so much sensation crowding her senses but not where she needs. She grinds down on him, where they’ll join so perfectly, and she feels that perfectly fat cock of his wedged on top of his thick thighs that he can’t manspread for once with her on top of him. She reaches down and positions him through the silky track bottom until she can slide along, feeling the width of him parting her pussy lips even with the thong’s fabric obstructing. His pants are sticky to touch, even though he feels too heavy and floppy to be fully hard.

Elvis should kiss her again. Warn her he ain’t good for nothin’ before she gets her hopes up and he gets to humiliate himself like some useless old fuck.

“Daddy, daddy fill me up, daddy.” she beats him to it in the prettiest little beg he’s ever heard.

“Oh Gigi.” he groans compassionately before grabbing her hand and bringing it up away from his messy lil pecker, “I’s gone lick you, don’t you recall?”

“Yes but I’m past that, I need you inside me!” she gasps, grin growing by the second.

“Ah, yeah, well baby it’s a big deal, takin’ innocence and uh-“ he scratches the back of his head and she escapes his hold and her hand is back to it, squeezing his cock and it really does feel nice, in a head scratch sorta way. “Look, Gigi, honey, I’m sorry but lil Elvis is shy tonight.” he holds his breath as she slowly processes this.

She doesn’t retract her hand as she registers what he’s saying. “Aww, but I can kiss him!”

“M-m-maybe some other time?” he pleads like he’s asking a child to please let him get away with just five bedtime stories. Six is overkill and Daddy has work tomorrow.

She pouts briefly before bringing her sticky hand up to her mouth and licking her fingers like a barbarian. That sight alone almost fixes his damn ED. Gigi likes the light taste of him, humming in approval at the first taste like a baby trying candy for the first time.

“T-t-that means he likes ya, though.” he assures her like an idiot and she smiles around her digits.

She’s very sober and a little mournful, the way she keeps looking at him, not at all petulant or even the slightest bit contemptuous, just concerned and it primes some pump inside him to explain more than he ever should but he can’t seem to stop the words as they come out, “Had a migraine this mornin’ before ya came over and I wanted to be in ship-shape for some fun -fun with you- so I had to take some lil helpers for the head and they, well, they, they mess with…that.” he motions to his lap.

“Awww,” she laments, heartbroken as if he had to endure having his head sawn clean off, “you had a migraine? And you still had us over? Oh poor, sweet daddy!” she shifting in his lap to rub at the back of his head and into his hair and he tries to mumble assurances that it’s better now but they get lost in the glorious blubber of her frankly unnecessarily huge breasts that happen to be smashed in his face as she attends to his head. “I’ll put some oils on it- I’ve got a bathtub, we could put you in tha-”

“-Baby girl,” He laughs, excavating his chin from her cleavage, “it’s better now, I was just explainin’ the faulty mechanics. I ain’t always so stove up, didn’t want you thinking-“

“Oh I wouldn’t care!” she gushes intensely and he’s very worried that streak of the insane fan in her is larger than he thought but it’s too late, she’s caught him in her big tittied, huge nippled, anklet wearing trap, “I’d lick you and suck you and wiggle you inside me soft no matter what, all my days! I don’t care!”

“T-that’s real touching.” he murmurs in a daze. She’s perfect, every man’s wet dream - and he’s the damn lucky bastard that gets to have her. And he can’t even make full use of her.

“I’m gonna give you a back massage with some marjoram oil-“

“No, no you’re not.” he grabs at her to keep her forcefully on his lap, “I don’t need no hippy potions, I ain’t no witch’s experiment or an ole man. I’m here to eat beaver. Or…baby seal, with that bald thing.”

“You sure? I-“

“Gigi, be good.” he puts his finger to her lips and she freezes like a chastised bambi. “Good baby girl. Now you lay back f’me and spread those pretty legs. A man needs room to work his magic.”

“Ok.” she agrees in an excited whisper and tips out of his lap sideways onto the sheets, giving him a full view of her -nearly- naked self for the first time, completely serene and without artifice. He knew she'd be even worse without clothes, worse for his obsession and his indulgence and everything else but this -this is an Angel.

God, he really adores women. Best idea ever to make ‘em, and to make them with fat boobies and lil holes to rub peckers into and sweet faces to paint slimey and cute widdle toes to rub your balls against.

“Ok, let’s see what we’re workin’ with here.” he smirks and gets on his belly with a grunt, heaving himself up the bedsheets and in between her long legs, taking his fingers and moving aside that stupid little string they call underwear these days. “Oh lord, look at that.” he appreciates the pretty pink beauty of her and the smooth pale skin of her kitty, so delicate and girly and -he’s a little smitten. More than he expected. Which was an oversight with the way she keeps blowing his hopes out of the water.

“You’re the prettiest thing I ever did lay eyes on, sweetheart.” he swears with his whole heart, shuffling in closer and kissing her thigh.

Gigi cranes her neck and unsatisfied with the narrowed visuals says, “Wait, lemme prop up.” and stuffs a few pillows behind her back and sits up, legs spread wide and her smile pleased like she’s about to watch her favorite film, “Ok, now I can watch you. Go ahead, daddy.”

“Umm, alright.” he clears his head once more at the thought of her wanting to watch and dives in. Somehow he gets the feeling if he doesn’t go for it she’ll come in seconds anyway she’s so high strung and then he’ll have barely gotten his taste.

Furry, silky, warm -that’s how his hair and head feel beneath her hands, his fuzzy sideburns and his hair so little styled after the pool fluffs and tufts adorably and his cheeks puff out with his vigorous exertions and his sideburns chafe her thighs and his hands are everywhere at once -Gigi watches all these things and marvels in her heart at it. He’s very voracious about it while still having a great deal of -nuance- to it. Like a man who is in a watermelon eating competition, he may look rabid but if he’s won a few then he must have a calculated method down amid the mess.

The predominant feeling is comfortable intimacy. They are both surprised by it, she by the naturalness of watching the most famous face on planet earth smeared from her pleasure and rapturously content with her taste, he with the pleasant rightness of her legs squeezing his shoulders snuggly and her hands petting his hair away from his sweaty forehead. His scalp sweats the more he works and she rubs his neck as if mindful of the lurking migraine, as if she can only thank him for his touches by returning them.

She praises his tongue in breathy awe, “so long and pink and wet and oh-“

Nose buried in pink and wet and sweet womanliness Elvis hums his agreement. Peeking up through his lashes he can see the one hand not cradling his head is industriously tugging on those dark, large nipples of hers. He grinds himself against the bed on pure instinct. Another day, another night, he’s gotta get those large nipples of hers in his mouth.

She calls him beautiful. Again and again. “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful, worse in person, more than I ever imagined, in my wildest-“

Again and again. Beautiful, she says. More than dreams. More, he’s more and more till Gigi’s praise dissolve into shrieks and pants, screams that whimper out into the low apartment ceiling as the afternoon sun dims, as he keeps going until they build again. And again, her hips are nothing if not insistent on grinding up against his mouth. The room smells of sweat and pleasure and sun-in. She’s vocal in her gratitude, persistent in returning his touch, petting him to say thank you when she finds she can’t form coherent sentences.

Eventually there is no more.

Just peace, and him, heaving back his breath against her thighs in a pussy-drunk stupor, and her shaking from seizing one too many times. His scalp is burning beneath her hands, his neck too. Inflamed and angry, she thinks of how much he loves to give. Wished she’d looked at the clock, something to tell the girls about. Just how many minutes, hours, days? he’d spent pleasing her.

“Good?” he asks in a hopeful little slur and the pink of his cheeks and the shiny glimmer on his nose is so childlike and content in his pouty snooze that her heart melts and she curls over him as best she can and squeezes.

“It was everything.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathes into his burning ear, “I’m hooked.”

His laugh rumbles the whole bed, “Me too, baby girl.”

Their skin is sticky and tacky, they adhere to each other in their embrace. He is soothed by such a clasp as theirs while the longer he lays on his stomach the more keenly aware he is of how it hurts. Now’s the time to roll over and mention something about needing to get back. Now would be it, but for some reason the words don’t come and he lays on his knotted gut, suppressing winces and biting his lip against the pinches, trying to recall the sweetness of her, what made this worth it. Her breath fans his neck, wafting across his cheek -cuddle bug, he thinks, fond. Home, he should go home, but never has it felt so utterly foreign. Like a figment of what he wants and needs, like Christmas morning without your mama. A house is just a shell without heart. He wonders if his boys have got the front den cleaned yet of barbecue and would-be-in-laws.

“Do you need to get off your…head?” Gigi whispers softly and it startles him. She’s got a point, all his blood is rushing to his brain the way he’s laying.

“Probably should.” he grunts and slowly, like a pair of cats, they uncurl from around each other to be face to face for the first time since they shared such pleasure. They’re both a little pink and their smiles are too wide. He wonders at the happiness she’s releasing, marveling that he put it there. He’s got to be careful or it won’t be too long before this little girl realizes she’s got him wrapped around her finger already.

She rubs her nose against his. Another way to kiss.

She asks him if he needs a drink.

“I’ll help you with your philosophy homework.” He promises instead, it’s a reason to see her again. And soon. A reason to see her again and a hint it can’t be tonight.

Tonight he needs his pills, his bed, an enema and god knows what else just to make it till morning. He could cry from how badly he wants to be spontaneous, to go to a girl’s place, make love, cuddle like this and when he says he has to go and her eyes well up with tears at the prospect of his absence -he’d like to be able to say he can stay.

“Hush it’s alright, I’ll stay. I’ve got you, no one’s gonna ever leave you cold again.” something like that. Instead he says he can help with her test. Instead he tries to fool himself into being something less than heartbroken at how even the simplest thing in his life has to be a big production.

“Will you really?” Gigi’s face lights up at his piss poor offer.

“Promise.” he repeats.

“And will you promise me you’ll let me repay you?” She presses slyly, her hand petting down his chest and over the swell of his gut. Some childlike weariness in him wants her to rub it better. He remembers feeling the same way as a child regarding his mother’s touch and despite the fact that Gigi’s a baby girl - his baby girl - he trusts she’d make one Gladys Love Presley proud, doing her best to take care of him.

“Mmmaybe.” he looks down at her with playful suspicion.

“Promise me!” she demands, kicking her feet and flipping over to look down at him, swinging a leg to straddle him again.

He can’t help the wince his face flashes at the pressure of her hands from that high vantage. She flings them off him like she’s been burned, likes she’s the one who got hurt. “Oh shoot, sorry, sorry.” she gasps, her eyes wide and blue and tearful, “It’s bad, huh?”

As if not being able to get it up weren’t chastisement enough for his ego, now there’s this. “Uh huh.” he grits and the stab passes for the moment.

“Do you have something for it?” she hopes, “Do you need to go home?.”

There’s the out he needs. Didn’t even have to say it himself. Melancholy descends like fog over his soul but he reminds himself it is what is, he’s better off than most. So what if he can’t have sleepovers on whim or shit like a normal human or skip having his blood pressure checked every goddamn morning -he has a lot, and he got to eat Gigi’s silky smooth bare pussy. Today was a good day. Not even a wash, it was a good day, she made it a good day.

“Yeah, I need to get home.” he sounds every bit as despondent as he feels about it and he hopes she’ll take that as the compliment intended.

“Ok!” she chirps without missing a beat, jumping up in nothing but his open jacket, skipping out the bedroom door, left turn into what seems to be the kitchen.

Well, she handled that better than expected. Elvis almost hopes she’s still orgasm-happy and it doesn’t reflect her readiness to have him out of her place. He idly flicks at the stack of papers to get some impression of where the test is stumping her. He fidgets with his zipper and closes his jacket back up, coloring at the memory of letting her expose him like that.

She comes bouncing back within the minute holding a glass of water and presenting it with authority, “Now you just drink this daddy, it’s got fennel tincture in it and will help your stomach. You just drink that while I pack my bag. I’ll be fast, don’t worry,” she goes on as he tries to compute what she means and sniffs her concoction warily, “I pack light anyways and we can always come back for the rest of my stuff later.”

Come back. For her stuff. Don’t worry -she packs light.

The fennel wafts around him, the smell of licorice and fairgrounds and his mama’s hand in his and daddy winning him that stuffed tiger. Fennel, for his stomach. He shakes his head. His tongue feels fuzzy.

Come back. For her stuff. She packs light.

She is coming with him. That’s what she must mean, he realizes as he drinks her awful drink and watches with teary eyes her bare ass bend over to grab jeans from a dresser and throw them in a duffel bag. Like Graceland is summer camp.

Come back for the rest later, she’d said. She is coming back with him, just knowing she’s welcome. He didn’t even have to beg, to ask, to suggest, to hint. Send a limo, nothin, just eat pussy and now she’s gonna live with him. Let her press her skin against his own just once and suddenly, he’s never gonna be lonely again.

She bounces into the bathroom and comes out with the damn lemon shampoo, to match the lemon conditioner abandoned on the floor.

Cheap drug store shit.

“Hell no, you’re not bringing that stuff into my house.” he lays down the law, his one condition and the first time he’s vocalized any acknowledgment of her entitlement to his hospitality, “You’ll use mine till we get you sorted.”

“I like the way you smell.” she admits, dropping the bottles there in the middle of the floor. That's that sorted.

It’s still not sunk in fully as Elvis drives his quite recognizable beast of a car through Memphis’ now dark streets, while Gigi sits beside him with her white stack of papers catching the street lights glare as they pass. His giddy joy at her willingness and her entitlement to stay with him is overshadowed by the cold lump in his throat, panicking about how to keep a shred of dignity intact or retain an iota of her attraction for him when she becomes aware of his routines.

“You’re gonna teach me how to help, right?” she asks very soberly from her side, as sober as he’s ever seen her.

“Whatcha mean, baby doll?” he tries to keep his tone light.

“You’ll teach me and show me how to care for you, right?” she presses again, “I wanna take care of you, like you take care of me.”

Simple as that -for her. He grunts out something she mistakes for a yes.

Elvis puffs harder on his lit cigar and feels like he’s gonna choke, ends up rolling his window down, gulping in fresh air as Gigi does it on her side too, hanging her head out the window and whooping into the night. He wonders what might distract her while he slips away this evening, maybe a movie or maybe the hot tub or maybe the horses. Maybe Tammy is still there like a bad penny and will keep her distracted. Tonight Elvis would welcome that. Only tonight, and his hand tightens on the steering wheel in frustration over his own worn out body and how it just can’t walk this stuff off anymore.

She’s still hanging out the window, she looks so young like that. His vision blurs.

Somehow Gigi’s feet have ended up in his lap by the time Sam’s letting them into the front gate. She wiggles her toes under his belly, rubbing at the soft skin. Grinning at him suggestively, like a fat man’s belly is the most sexy thing imaginable. He wants to snort.

“Think they saved us any barbecue?” she grins.

“No, it’s all in Gingersnaps’s hair and I ain’t touchin’ that ever again.” he allows himself to be a bit of bastard, it can’t be wrong when it makes Gigi giggle in maniacal glee in the passenger seat, secure now in having her Daddy’s attention. “I’m in the mood for peanut butter anyway.” he retorts.

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. I’ll admit I’m disorganized and have trouble keeping all the requests sorted when they’re scattered, what I do check regularly are the requests in the notes for chapters -and I do manage to get those added. So, if you’ve put in a request and I’ve failed ya, or if you’re new and would like to be added, please pop a note below. Xoxo

@prompted-wordsmith

@parodsal000

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@stylespresleyhearted

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#elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #70’s elvis #Elvis #elvisaaronpresley #elvis photos #elvis the king #70s elvis #elvis fans #Elvis smut #austin elvis imagine #big daddy Elvis #big daddy elvis fic #but then…Gigi

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somber-sapphic · 1 year

Text

Safe In Their Arms

I apologize for my inconsistency in these descriptions, I'm just trying to get everything reposted as quickly as I can- (wandanat x reader)

You've been working hard and naturally, let go of your health. When your girlfriends try to help you push them away, resulting in a minor fight between you and Natasha.

Word Count: 2004

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You swiped a clammy hand over your eyes, struggling to keep yourself focused on the words written on the page in front of you. You’d always joked that paperwork would be the death of you, but this seemed worse than your typical nightmare related exhaustion. Your body felt unnaturally heavy and the pressure in your head had intensified tenfold.

You sniffled quietly and ran a fist under your runny nose, trying to keep all of the gunk inside your head. You’d finish soon, then you’d sleep for three days. Or a month, whatever it took to get the damn pain to go away. You scrunched up your nose and ducked forward, stifling a sneeze into your elbow

“Y/n for the love of god, either blow your nose or leave. I can’t think with all of your sniffling.” The redhead beside you spat out, turning to give you an ugly glare. Her green eyes bore into yours and you felt shame welling up inside of you.

“Natasha, quit. Y/n, are you feeling alright?” Wanda asked softly, walking over to put a hand on your shoulder. You huffed and pulled away from her, hunching back over the work in front of you.

A part of you felt awful for how you were acting. Wanda had been nothing but kind to you since it happened and you’d been hostile. Natasha had given it a week before she was done with your attitude and began returning the aggression you sent her way.

“Sweetheart, I know you don’t want to talk to me, I know you’re still upset but you’re trembling. You’re wearing a sweatshirt and I can see the three pairs of socks. What’s wrong?” The auburn haired woman moved and wrapped her arms around you, resting her head on your shoulder. You tried to keep yourself steady, you tried to hold back the emotions, but it was too much.

You squished your cheek against hers as tears began to slip from your eyes. Being the wonderful girlfriend that she was, Wanda stayed where she was, but slipped her hand onto your forehead, rocking you slightly as the tears came faster.

“It’s okay Y/n/n, I’m right here.” She soothed, her mother-hen instincts kicking in. You reached up and grabbed the arm hooked around your shoulders and clung to her, the physical contact tearing down the walls you’d built up since the explosion. A heaving sob wracked your body, quickly turning into a coughing fit that made your lungs rattle in your chest.

“Shh, shh I’ve got you. I’ve got you little dove. Just breathe for me.” You broke completely when she started to comb her fingers through your hair, a gesture that never failed to make you talk to her. She continued her mantra as your sobs got heavier and didn’t break contact even as you started to rock back and forth in your overwhelming sadness.

“I-I'm s-sorry!” You choked out, squeezing your eyes closed against what you were sure would be yelling from Natasha. She was mad at you and she had every right to be. That didn’t change how afraid you were of her leaving you. You couldn’t live without these women.

“Y-you tried to help and, and I just got m-mad, I-I’m so stupid.” Your chest was heaving with emotion, terrified that they’d just leave you alone. Wanda’s hold tightened on you, and you could feel her using some of her magic to keep you from spiraling completely. She had a very tentative hold on your grief, knowing that you needed to feel it but unwilling to let it send you into a panic attack.

You felt yourself being moved, but you didn’t fight. You didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. You were lowered into the ground and found yourself curled up in the arms of someone new. If you weren’t so congested you’d smell her light sandalwood soap and a hint of sweat from her earlier training. If you opened your eyes you’d see a cascade of long red hair half covering her face as she pulled you against her chest, a sudden protectiveness flaring in her chest.

You didn’t need to though. You knew the touch of this woman without having to look up. It was a touch that you had craved for a long time. Since the incident your general aggressive attitude had kept her from providing the gestures of comfort that Wanda refused to withhold. The brushes of her fingers across your back when she walked past you. The hand on your knee to keep it from bouncing when you were sitting down. The little nudges of her elbow into your ribs in a joking way to show affection.

You grabbed onto the front of Natasha’s shirt, afraid that she’d change her mind and let you go. Wanda started to pull away but you shook your head, hoping that she’d stay. You didn’t trust your voice, or really think that you’d be able to talk through your tears.

“You’re sick baby.” She murmured into your hair, showing you love that you thought she’d lost for you. You shook your head against her shirt and sniffled miserably, holding back a fit of what you were sure would be hacking, wet coughs.

“I haven’t been sick in ages, it must be something else…” You whimpered, refusing to admit it. If you admitted it, you were weak and you couldn’t keep being weak in front of them. You’d already shown too much emotion.

“Your denial is adorable bug, but you’re definitely sick. You’re burning up.” Wanda chuckled, pulling your sweaty hair back into a loose ponytail with one of her spare hair ties. Her nails grazed your scalp and you moaned in pleasure, the pain fading with her gentle touch. Embarrassment flooded over you, and you turned to look at her an apology on your lips.

She smiled and cupped your hot cheek in a soft hand, sympathy and kindness glimmering in her beautiful hazel eyes.

“...love you…” You turned away and hid your head back in Natasha’s chest, the same way that a toddler might. Both women laughed and one of them kissed the top of your head. You melted into the affection, knowing that though you’d have the discussion about your bad attitude later they would let you bask in their attention for a while. They wouldn’t make you talk about it just yet.

“We love you too printsessa, but it’s time for bed. Do you think you can walk?” Your body felt like jello what with all of the not eating enough and complete lack of sleep but you had to try. You nodded weakly and allowed them to help you stand, Natasha’s arm slipping around your waist as you struggled to keep yourself on your feet.

“Are you sure? I can carry you.” The redhead offered, looking up at you. For all of her high heeled boots and badassery, the woman was tiny. Standing at a mere 5’3” anyone who didn’t know her strength would think her offer ridiculous. You knew that she could literally throw you across the room without a second thought. She was fantastic.

“I’m okay.” You stumbled forward and Wanda grabbed your shoulders, shaking her head slightly.

“Quit it. I will knock you out and carry you myself if I have to.” The other woman snapped, kissing the back of your head lightly. You shut up and allowed Natasha to lift you into a bridal carry. You cast a weak glare at Wanda, but stopped when you saw what looked like terror in her eyes.

“...’m’okay baby. Tired.” You reached for her hand, and ran a thumb across her knuckles as Natasha carried you to your room. She deposited you on the bed with a gentle kiss on your forehead and you frowned, making stupid little grabby hands at her. Your throat hurt and you didn’t want to talk anymore. You just wanted to be held.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” She laughed, bending over so that she could give you a real kiss. You tried to push away, not wanting her to get sick, but she kissed you anyway. Her soft lips pressed against yours and you relaxed, letting all of the anxiety and sadness of the past few weeks leave you. This was your chance to not be okay, even if it was only until your fever broke.

“Don’t go?” You whispered, sleep already pulling at your exhausted mind. You glanced over at Wanda, who still looked nervous. She was picking at her nails as if trying to decide if she should sit. You wanted her to sit, what did you do wrong?

Tears filled your eyes and you pulled your knees to your chest, self hate washing over you.

“No, no you don’t get to do that again. I just got you back.” Wanda snapped out of her anxious daze and sat beside you. Without another moment of hesitation she pulled you against her chest, her hand cradling the back of her head.

“Can we go to bed?” You mumbled into her neck, still fighting to stay awake. You knew that they wanted you up by the way she nudged you every time she felt you sink deeper against her.

“Just a second, sleepy girl. We’ve gotta get you changed, remember?” She ran her fingernails across your scalp and you heard the little buzz sound that Natahsa’s phone made when it took a picture. You whined loudly and tried to grab the blanket, but it was snatched out of your reach.

A new set of more frustrated tears filled your eyes and you whimpered into Wanda’s shirt, your tears wetting the fabric.

“What’s wrong?” She cooed, glancing up at Natasha who was rifling around the drawers for a set of suitable pajamas. Something light, like cotton.

“I don't feel good.” You rubbed your nose against your wrist and looked up at her with big wet eyes, lower lip trembling. If you had any memory of this, you would be completely humiliated. For now, you were tired and sick and finally felt safe enough to be vulnerable.

“We know bug, let’s just get you changed into these,” Natasha held up a loose shirt that belonged to Wanda and a pair of her old, ratty sweatpants, “and then you can sleep until everything feels better.” She soothed, helping Wanda sit you up.

You protested your clothes being removed by going limp, a pout set firmly on your lips. There was much grumbling from the women trying to get you changed and a few Russian curses. By the time they’d wrestled the shirt over your head, you were half asleep against Wanda’s shoulder, finally willing to help them out.

“Wanna pull your legs up for me sweetheart?” Natasha pulled your pants off and you winced at the sudden cold, obeying as she went to put the new ones on. “Thank you Y/n, you can lay down now. We’re going to let you get off the hook without medicine for now, but when you wake up you’ve gotta take it, okay?”

Her words were fuzzy but you understood the implications. Mostly you understood that now you could sleep. You let them rearrange the pillows and tuck the blanket up around your chin, refusing to move your head from Wanda’s stomach. She was comfy and felt good.

“Do you need more blankets, my princess?” Natasha murmured, threading her fingers through your hair.

“You be my blanket?” You asked, not moving from your position. There was plenty of room for her to lay down if she wanted to be your blanket, which you really hoped that she did. The women beneath you laughed silently and kissed your hairline.

“Of course. Goodnight Y/n.” You tried to say goodnight, but your body was too heavy. Finally, after weeks of exhaustion, your mind drifted away in the safety of your girlfriend's arms. They’d protect you. They wouldn’t leave you. They’d make sure you were never alone.

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normspellsman · 4 months

Text

what sports i think the metkayina trio + spider would play modern au headcanons!

second part to what sports i think the sully children play!

slowly but surely trying to get thru this writer block & hiatus 🤞🏽

ao’nung

swimming and/or water polo

— he probably just naturally has a build built for water sports so he excels in it & is super cocky about it too (#blessedgenes)

— was defeated not given the choice on which sport he’d play when he was younger. both of his parents probably did either sport so they’d want him to also do it as well. or they at least wanted him to do one

— i don’t see him being the team captain but he’d def be co-captain or an alternate. he loves the sport don’t get him wrong but not to the extent where he’d be team captain. he already has enough pressure to perform well & doesn’t need that kind of title placed on him

— def see him being a butterflyer or a backstroker. like he much rather do those strokes in a swim meet than the other two

— is 100% the type of kid to have “eat my bubbles!” sharpied onto his arm or lower back during meets. probably begged his mom to write it on there too 😭

— also has to have the order of his races written on his arm so he doesn’t forget the order & where he’s supposed to go

— sees no point in wearing a swim cap

— always challenged himself by trying to score a point higher from his last game in water polo or get a better time in whatever stroke for swimming. he’d make sure to ask his parents to like reward him or something so he’d have the drive to do it. but even then, he’s still able to do it without the prize

— wears sandals everywhere. period. no arguments.a

— has such a bad swim trunk tan line. he really tries to get it even in the summer or during swimming season by wearing speedos lol

tsireya

volleyball (indoor, sand, + grass)

— girl is graceful asf on the court

— position would probably be setter or outside i feel like. she might not have the height for it but def has the hops. like a secret weapon of sorts. you’d never expect it

— is 100% the team captain

— she is so supportive of her team & always makes sure that one of her teammates is not stuck in their head or blaming themselves for a bad play

— i can see her number either being 1 or some random ass number, like 49 or 27

— always has the best hair-dos on the court. she seriously goes all out

— def the designated braider of the team so she has to make sure her girls are looking fresh asf on the court too 🫶🏼

— very humble about her accomplishments & wins. she very much believes that an individual does not win a game, a team does so all of that congratulations should be projected to the team rather than on an individual level

— probably has this pregame ritual where she gets there super early to get used to the size of the gym/court. peppers by herself & gets into the zone 100%

— does volleyball literally all year around. so she’ll do school & club for indoor, sand in the summer, & grass for fun. it’s her whole life tbh

— ronal is 100% the team mom. no questions asked

swimming

— i can also see her doing swim, but like only for a club during the summer when she doesn’t have anything for volleyball

— her & ao’nung are the best sibling duo in this sport 100%. they’re always paired up for a medley relays

— she likes free style more than the other strokes so that’s her main event during meets usually

— isn’t as passionate about it as her parents or brother. would much rather do & play volleyball than swim

— is also the kid to have “eat my bubbles!” written somewhere on there body lol

rotxo

soccer

— i can def see him playing soccer & being like a striker or a forward

— is def the one that annoys the coach to no end & ends up causing the team to run laps bc of it. sometimes it’s totally not intentional. it just happens lol

— team clown 100%

— he doesn’t really score a lot of goals but he does assist his teammates in their scoring. has the most assists on his team (idk if that’s a thing in soccer)

— has the most weirdest celebrations ever whenever he does manage to score

— been playing since he could walk fr

— jersey number is probably something like 14 or a random even number. bro likes even numbers for some reason

— is a really versatile player & if need be, can play goalie or be a defender if a player is out sick or injured

— def plays for his school & local town club

baseball

— can def see rotxo playing this as well

— most definitely a catcher (idk why but i just see it)

— probably only got into it to work on his soccer skills somehow or to work on his eye & hand coordination since he’s quite good with his feet & eyes

— only plays for his school since soccer usually takes up most of his free time

— lowkey has a wicked curveball

— he likes the catcher uniform bc it looks like he’s an autobot from transformers lol

— surprisingly somehow became captain & doesn’t know what to do with that title most times

— really good at determining calls for the pitcher & suggesting what they should throw next

spider

hockey

— no one would expect someone like spider to play this sport so everyone’s shocked when he says what sport he plays

— probably a defenseman & has the most penalties on his team lol

— ^ will literally fight everyone on the ice if need be. he plays dirty & truly doesn’t give a single fuck

— not a team captain but probably one of the alternatives. he’s more on the silent side regarding his “captaincy” but has the ability to talk his teammates up when they aren’t playing very well. bro has a way with words fr

— a lot of people think he’s a playboy hockey player but that’s FAR from the truth. he barely has enough confidence to talk to a girl on & off the ice. poor boy just shuts down

— since he’s like 6’0+, his build is really intimidating & he uses it to his advantage. def slams others into the boards as hard as he can when they’re down however many points. like, just imagine a 6’0+ dude like spider skating down the ice at literal lightning speed to slam you into the boards. i’d be shitting my pants fr

— started playing at the age of like 4 or 5 probably

— he loves skating so much that he goes to the rink or puts on rollerblades & just skates around to calm down or let out some steam. it’s really his outlet

— his number is most definitely 69 or 96. some funny shit like that

— will also defend his teammates with his life on the ice if someone were to fuck with them. that’s his family. he’d do anything for them

— ^ especially their goalie. bro is only gentle with their goalie & if anyone fucks with them, you best expect his gloves to be thrown & knuckles bloody from how hard he punched. ride or die fr

— nicknames probably consist of spider (obvi), kilometer (for miles lol), socks (for socorro), ironfist (for how much he gets into fights), & oreo/orro (for socorro)

— has the talent & ability to potentially go to college for hockey. he puts so much time & effort into his skills & the sport & it def shows through how he plays

#normspellsman #normspellsman talks!#avatar #avatar imagine #avatar x reader #atwow imagines #avatar: the way of water #modern au #modern au headcanons #headcanon #headcanons #ao’nung headcanon #tsireya headcanons #spider headcanons #rotxo headcanons #ao’nung #spider socorro #tsireya #rotxo

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intotheseas · 1 month

Note

Hello I just discovered you and I'm in love with your writing!

Since you said that requests are open I thought I might send you my idea :)

So basically I'm all for some angst and comfort, and I'd love if you wrote a fic about GN! or F!MC who gets hurt and goes to the Undercroft to try and tend to their wounds (they're not very good at this) and basically hide the fact that they're hurt (and I mean hurt-hurt, like a giant gush in their side or something) and after dressing the wounds and hoping for the best (cause they're really bad at healing magic) Ominis walks in and meets them there, so they act normal but he still senses that something's wrong so he tries to coax it out of them, but they stick to their "everything's fine" so he gives up and just tells them to sit on the couch with him but when they move they get a sharp pain (from the big gush in their side) and basically fall to the floor with a pained whimper. Ominis quickly springs into action to help them and is all frantic about what happened and asking them but they're too hurt and so he tries to help them but since the damage is mostly on their side they're reluctant about letting him (they're flustered because they have a crush on him and they've never even kissed anyone) but he's so comforting and you know waiting for consent and basically so nice and they eventually let him help.

It can be spicy if you want, but it doesn't have to be!

Also don't feel pressured into writing it, I know that inspiration comes and goes and that you have a life of your own.

Again thank you so much and have an amazing day/night ♡♡♡

PS sorry if I made any grammatical errors, English is not my first language 😅

Hi, hi, hello! :) Your english is excellent, no need to worry! And I am so honoured you like my writing, holy crap. Thank you! Sorry this took a few days, I had do a lot of rewriting, just wasn't super happy with it. I'm still kinda unhappy with it but didn't want to keep you waiting!

You gave me permission to make it spicy and I did lol. I hope you like this. :) As a cis-female I wrote it from a F!MC POV, I'm not sure I could do a GN POV justice. I hope that's okay. I was HEAVILY inspired by the following two songs, so feel free to listen if they're to your taste! Counting, by Heavens, and Blood on the Moon by Raquet Club. Tags: hurt/comfort, blood (not sexually though), graphic depiction of injury, unprotected piv, smut, comfort, first time, first kiss, soft ominis gaunt, protective ominis gaunt, dominis (just a lil bit), biting

Summary: Sage is gathering Horklump juice in the forest when she's injured badly by a poacher. She only has one Wiggenweld on her, just enough to let her stagger back to the Undercroft. She bandages herself up and hopes for the best. When Ominis drops by and notices she's badly hurt, he breaks down her walls and convinces her to allow him to treat her. Once he's fixed her, years of unresolved sexual tension boil over. Characters are 18.

Read here on AO3 or below the break!

Soil, lush grass, damp moss, rotting leaves. Sage’s nose fills with the scents of the forest as she pants, grips her side in agony. Stupid, fucking stupid, she thinks. She doubles over and sinks to the ground, groaning. The dirt scrapes against her cheek as she curls into herself, pain burning through her like fire. Her hands become sticky with her own blood as it seeps through the thin material of her jumper.

So fucking stupid. She’d come to the forest to search for Horklump juice, needed to replace her low stock of Wiggenweld. Ran into a poacher, cast diffindo without thinking. They’d reflected it at her and disapparated. Her own spell slashed through her, cut her down. Now she lays in the foetal position, her blood mixing with the dirt. Sage pats her pockets, feeling for any stray vials. There's only one. She downs the Wiggenweld in one motion, tosses it aside. It’s enough to allow her to stand, to hobble to the nearest floo point.

She stumbles out into the castle, gritting her teeth through piercing pain. Her ragged breathing and muffled groans fill the empty corridor, echo off the walls like they're mocking her. Sage staggers to the Undercroft. She needs to be alone, assess the damage. There’s no way she’s going to Nurse Blainey, no way she’ll explain why she was in the Forbidden Forest so late in the evening. Like she needs detention right now.

Stupid.

The iron bars screech as they rise, revealing the musty room that’s been a hideout for almost three years. Lurching, she makes her way to the box she keeps on the table. Fishes out a roll of bandages and lifts her jumper gingerly. It’s already soaked. “Scourgify,” she mutters, removing the worst of it. The iron tang nauseates her, or maybe it’s the blood loss. Sage roots around in the crate for a bottle. Essence of dittany, she knows there’s some in here somewhere. She pulls the bottle out, curses. There’s only two drops left in the dropper, not nearly enough to deal with this gash. Fuck it. She spreads what’s left on the deep cut, hissing as it burns into her flesh like little licks of lightning.

The wound remains, but the bleeding seems to stop, at least. If she had any talent at healing magic she’d try it, but she knows better. The last attempt resulted in even more injury. She'd ended up in the hospital wing for a week, all over a simple splinch. No, the dittany and bandages will have to do. She glances toward the door and removes her jumper, tossing it over the crate. She wraps the bandages around her middle, snug against the throbbing gash. It’s around an inch deep, she thinks. Not severe enough to hit any major organs or arteries.

Sage waves her wand, conjures a chair and sinks into it. Mutters “scourgify” again, cleans her jumper and pulls it over her head. The chair cushions her, needed relief as she pants from her exertion and blood loss. She’ll find a Wiggenweld in a bit, she only needs to…rest. Her head lolls over the back of the chair.

The bars rise again, and Sage snaps to attention. It's Ominis, likely seeking some solitude after classes. His tie is loosened, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Shit.

“Sage? Thought I'd find you here.” He strolls toward the back of the room and settles into a large, dark sofa. He lounges, stretching his lithe body like a cat. “How long have you been here?”

Act normal. Sage has never been good at showing her weaknesses, not even to someone she trusts as much as Ominis. “Not long. Maybe half an hour.” Her voice trembles, and of course he notices.

“Sage? Are you alright?” He moves his head toward her, sniffs the air. “Do I smell blood?”

Fuck.

“I’m fine, Omi. Only tired. I went to the forest to gather some potion ingredients. Maybe you’re smelling the dirt.” She’s breathing a little harder now, even speaking is tiring her.

His eyes narrow. “Right, because dirt smells like blood. Are you quite sure you’re okay?”

“I am. It's been a long day.”

She knows he doesn’t believe her, doesn’t know what to do about it. Despite his lack of sight, Ominis is perceptive to almost a fault. It’s a fucking miracle he hasn’t caught on to how she feels. The massive crush she's had on him ever since he confronted her outside the Undercroft.

Something about the way he yelled at her that day marked her, forever changed her taste in men. Kind of fucked up, but she supposes it doesn't matter. Ominis is far kinder than his guarded exterior lets on. After they overcame their initial encounter and worked together to save Sebastian from ruining his life, he's been nothing but kind to her. Devout, even. Like she's something he wants to protect. Is that why her heart is racing? Sage hisses, holding her side. The throbbing is getting worse.

“Sage? Come here.” It isn’t a request.

Her legs move against her stubborn will, over to the sofa, sinking into the cushions on his left. He faces her, his brow furrowed. “You’re hurt.” It isn’t a question.

“I…I got a scratch when I was in the forest,” she says through gritted teeth. Her breathing is heavier now, and she’s feeling woozy. She tries to shift and cries out, the pain sharp again. Sage doubles over, groaning.

“Liar,” he says. He pulls out his wand, passes it over her. “Sage, don’t be an idiot. Let me help you, for Merlin’s sake. You know I’m good with healing magic. Why are you being so stubborn?”

She pulls back. “It’s in an intimate spot, Omi.”

“And? You’re hurt. What does it matter?”

Sage pants. The room's spinning around her, vertigo slams over her like a wave. She collapses sideways, her head lands on Ominis’ lap. “Okay,” she groans. “I’m hurt.”

He stiffens. He’s not sure where to put his hands, settles on her back. “Sage, if you don’t let me help you, we’ll need to go to Nurse Blainey. I assume you’re avoiding her for a reason. Please, can I tend to your wound? I can smell the blood from here.” His voice is urgent, bordering on begging.

Her breaths are shallow, fast. She can’t tell if it’s from their proximity or from her injury. “It’s on my side. Here.” She guides his hand, rests it over her injury. “I wrapped it, applied a couple drops of dittany. That’s all I had other than an old Wiggenweld.”

Ominis pauses. “Sage, I need to lift your jumper. Is that okay with you?”

She nods, whimpers her affirmation. In for a penny, in for a pound.

He raises her jumper up with one hand, holding his wand over her with his other. He takes great care to lift it to just below her bra, preserve her modesty. Ominis’ hands are gentle as they unwrap the bandage. He passes his wand over the gash, concern etched in his face. “Worse than I feared,” he murmurs, “but I can fix this.” Grabbing his bag, he fishes out a couple vials. “Sage, these are green, right? Wiggenweld?”

She lifts her head, peers at them. “Yes.”

“Drink them. Now.” Again, not a request.

She tilts the vials into her mouth, gulping down the potion. Sage hisses, feeling the dizziness evaporate. She breathes more evenly, her heart slows to a steady pace.

Ominis runs his fingers through her hair. “Well done,” he murmurs, his voice kind. “I still need to close the cut. You’re lucky I know this spell.” His wand moves above her in a curious twirling motion, and thrice he says, “Vulnera Sanentur.”

A small gasp escapes Sage’s lips. Her skin knits together, and within seconds there’s nothing left of her stupidity except the faintest of scars. She sags, the absence of pain finally allowing her to relax.

Ominis traces his hands over her side, checking for any leftover blood or open wounds. Nothing. He breathes a sigh of relief, doesn’t remove his hands. “I don’t know how many times I’ve begged you to be more careful, Sage.” His voice trembles. “What would you have done if I hadn’t come to the Undercroft?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know.” Her head’s still resting in his lap, and she really doesn’t want to move. His fingers are still brushing against the bare skin of her side. Slow, soothing strokes. “Thank you,” she whispers.

He pauses for a moment, then continues his light movements. “What else could I have done? Sage, I…I wish you’d remember that there are people who care a lot for you. I wish you wouldn’t be so reckless. What would I do if I lost you?”

Her breathing is shallow again, for a different reason. I’m afraid he doesn’t care for me in the way I want him to, she thinks. She’s overcome with an urge to tell him how she feels, but how can she? They’ve danced around each other for nearly three years now, neither daring to show their full hand, their honest feelings.

His fingers drift down the curve of her waist and she shivers against him.

“Do you want me to stop?” His voice is low, trembles a little. Something in the air around them is shifting, becoming electric. Like every touch he leaves on her skin sends shivers racing over her skin.

Sage’s breath hitches in her throat. “No,” she whispers.

His hand trails up her waist, over her ribs, ghosting beneath her jumper, against the bottom of her bra. “Is this too much?”

Her breathing is shaky. “No. I…like it. You can go further, if you’d like.” She doesn’t know what’s happening, only knows she doesn’t want it to stop. The Undercroft is a different room than it was five minutes ago. The atmosphere shimmers with something unknown and dangerous, something intoxicating.

“Sage…you shouldn't say things so casually. Don't give me the wrong idea.” He stutters out the last few words.

A flash of bravery edges her forward. Fucking encourage him, you coward.“Maybe it isn’t the wrong idea,” she breathes. She sits up, leans toward him, rests a hand on his chest. “Maybe it hasn’t been for a long time.”

Ominis’ breath stutters. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” His hand reaches out, finds her cheek. He strokes his thumb over her lips, already parted.

Sage leans forward, crawls toward him and presses her forehead to his. "Am I, Ominis?"

His lips sear against hers, an inferno. Her first kiss, the only one she's ever wanted. She desperately wants it to devour them both, wants to lose herself in him. She shifts over, straddles his lap. Grinds down, makes her intentions clear. "Did you know," she breathes, "that I've wanted you since you yelled at me outside of the Undercroft?"

He gasps against her lips. "Would you believe me if I said I wanted you not long after?" His hands move down over her waist, cup against her bottom.

That surprises her, but she's not about to break their kiss. "No," she says as they catch their breath. "I wouldn't. I thought you hated me at first." She whines as she feels the length of him harden below her.

"Never," he says. "I just d-didn't," he stutters as she grinds against his clothed cock, "didn't know how to handle the situation. But your voice reached straight into my heart. Then y-you never stepped from my side when Sebastian slid down the wrong path, and s-somewhere," he pants, "I fell in love with you." He grabs her arse and bucks up against her.

Her moans are soft, pleading. Need more friction. Need less clothes. She lifts her jumper over her head, tosses it aside. Rips her bra off, flings it at the wall. Ominis gasps as she raises to her knees and presses her chest against his face, hikes her skirt up and her underwear down.

"Do you want this, Ominis?"

He unzips his trousers in reply. Pulls them down along with his underclothes. "Yes," he sighs. "More than you know."

She sinks down, resumes grinding. Her slick pussy coats him in only a few strokes. For a few minutes they grind together leisurely, murmuring sweet nothings into each other's ears. "Tell me more about when you started to want me," he asks.

She laughs, dragging her lips along his neck. "Something about your passion. It was attractive, even if I was the object of your ire at the time." Sage grinds a little faster, caught in the moment. "And then it was your k-kindness, under that guarded exterior. And then it was just you."

He reaches down and teases her opening with the tip of his cock. They both whine, nearly dizzy with anticipation.

Sage bites his neck, hard. "And for years I touched myself thinking of you. Thinking of something like this happening."

A low growl rumbles in his chest. He lifts her, his hands secure under her arse, gripping it almost painfully. "Put it in." Once again, not a request. Not that she minds. She lines up the tip of his cock with her entrance and sinks down onto him.

They cry out together, and Ominis wastes no time. He holds her bottom elevated in his hands, thrusts up into her without relent. Sage gasps against his lips with every movement, feels like she might burst from the sensation. He's fucking her like every dirty thought, every metaphorical step they've ever danced around each other pours into this very moment. It's a culmination of three years of pent up desire, unsaid words.

He stops and she cries out.

"Move," he says. He spreads her onto her back, grabs her hips and bends over her. His fingers dig into the soft flesh as he thrusts into her. She throws her head back, garbling incoherencies as he angles himself above her, hits deeper than she thought possible. He nips at her neck between the sweet words that flow from his filthy mouth.

It’s too overwhelming, in the best way. And when he reaches down, fumbles around her clit and rubs his thumb in firm circles, she comes undone. Sage spills all her long-held secrets. Her breath is urgent against his ears, makes his cock even harder. “I love you, I have for a long time, I’ve wanted this for so long, you’re so fucking perfect, Omi. I love you.”

He groans against her neck. "Sage, if you keep speaking so sweetly, I'm going to combust."

She grins, still panting. "So combust. I love you, Ominis."

With a final stuttering thrust he buries his cock deep within her, emptying not only himself but years of pent up want and need. Everything for her. "I love you too," he breathes. "I love you too."

#ominis gaunt smut #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy smut

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chaithetics · 10 months

Text

Porcelain and the Shark: The Engagement

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) reader

(reader has anxiety, no use of y/n, physical descriptions or other names but does have the nickname Porcelain/Porce - due to family viewing her that way not because of her complexion)

Word count: 4.8K

Prompt: they go to Logan to announce their engagement, he’s pleased that his baby is marrying a “shark” and that she’ll be “taken care of” and that Stewy is joining the family. Stewy is happy to let him believe he’ll be “joining them” when in reality he’s taking her. He’s just waiting for the marriage license to be signed. Shiv is pissed when she finds out her baby sister is getting married before her, finally stops blowing off Tom about moving in together and pushes it forward lol

Chapter warning: 18+ MDNI (smut-free fic) established relationship, fluff, soft Stewy, anxious reader, anxiety/panic attacks, a few f bombs, mentions/allusions to childhood abuse, canonical Roy Roy family being Roys...

Authors note: Sorry for the delay in this one! I've been blown away at the love that the Stewy fics have gotten but it's been so, so, so touching how much love Porcelain and the Shark has gotten and how it's resonated with people. It makes me so happy, I absolutely adore you all and I hope you enjoy this installment! This hasn't been proofread properly (obviously), and I feel like the ending is a bit rough (I really just wanted to get this out haha). Thank you again to the nonnie who sent in the original asks and inspired this! Please do let me know what you all think! Comments, reblogs and asks are more than welcome and very much appreciated!

******************************

Stewy had proposed a couple of days ago and it was perfect, to say the least. He hadn’t bombarded you with a grand gesture, done it in a public space, you’d felt no pressure or anxiety over any of it. The last few days had been spent in a blissful, engaged, Stewy-encompassing bubble. You weren’t quite prepared yet for it to burst by being brought back to the real world and sharing that news with your family.

There was a family lunch today. You and Stewy had discussed attending that and that being the opportunity to tell your family, then there was dinner with the Hosseinis to share the news as well. You were grateful for that at least. Stewy’s family were much more stable and kinder than yours. They had always been more welcoming to you and had treated you better than your own family had. You knew they’d be happy about the news and Stewy did too, it would be nice to have some family members genuinely be happy about it you thought.

Connor would be happy without a doubt so that was something. Kendall would be more civil than your siblings but it would also depend on his mood. Shiv and Roman were responses you weren't looking forward to. And well, your father was painfully unpredictable.

You’re still lying in the bed, wrapped up in the duvet. Feeling content at the idea of never leaving the bed when Stewy comes out of the shower, he smiles at you as he walks over to the walk-in closet and starts to pick out his ensemble for the day.

“I don’t want to go and tell him.” You say, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Are you regretting this?” Stewy asks somewhat earnestly as he finishes dressing.

“No, not at all. He’s just scary.”

You didn’t regret it at all, you loved being with Stewy and you were excited about the whole concept of this being another milestone in the relationship. He made you extremely happy and you were in love with him. But you did find your father terrifying and you knew that your siblings would probably find a way to trample on this. You didn’t want to subject Stewy to that and well any venom that might leave your father’s mouth.

“I’ll hold your hand the whole time.” He quietly promises.

It's not a cure. Or a perfect solution but it's a reassuring and loving one. It's something.

“Okay.” You whisper, you look up at him as he comes over and puts one of your hands into both of his, they’re warm and soft. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze in his comforting hold and then brings your hand up to his lips to press a gentle kiss there.

****************

There are butterflies floating around in your stomach when you arrive at your father’s penthouse, even with Stewy firmly behind you. As you enter both of you are quickly greeted by Marcia, the perfect hostess, as usual, you can feel the butterflies with every movement and breath and you swear they’re somehow multiplying and bypassing the whole cocoon stage.

You’re too anxious to carry out a conversation with Marcia that goes beyond the polite pleasantries as even that’s difficult. Stewy carries the conversation which you’re grateful for. Part of his body is pressed behind you and his hand rubs circles gently onto your hip. Marcia immediately notices the anxiety on you. Your eyes are widened and your head occasionally turns when you become startled hearing your siblings argue and jest.

“Mon chéri, are you feeling okay?” Marcia asks you, you panic for a second tripping over words in your head and nod. Stewy looks at your face carefully, hating that you’re so anxious. It’s radiating off your body like its own energy source and he can feel it.

“Mmhmm.” You hum nervously and your voice is in a higher pitch than usual as you lean into Stewy a little more.

“Okay, okay.” She says softly at you. She gives your arm a little squeeze and then walks past you, pretending it’s for the sake of going back to greet other guests in the house but you and Stewy know it’s because of your state and she wants to give you a moment.

“We can say you’re unwell if you want to go home. We can do this another time.” Stewy murmurs into your hair as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You sigh out, and shake your head slightly.

“No, no. It’s okay, I think we just need to tell Dad and it’ll go.” He nods and chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment before giving you another kiss on the top of your head.

“Time to find Sir Roy.” He says in a more playful tone, hoping that’ll ease you out of the anxiety cocoon a little and bring a bit of positivity to the tense air that is all that can be breathed in in the penthouse.

“Are you okay?” Roman asks.

“Y-yes, yes, yes.” He looks at you, not a single line of belief is etched into his face so you continue with your voice breaking a little. “Yes! Yes, Roman.”

“You sure? Because you kinda sound and look like the ‘before’ in an ad for Xanax.” His tone’s somewhat playful but there’s a look in his eyes that has concern. It was pretty visible you were pretty anxious and on the verge of a panic attack or you’d already had one. Roman couldn’t tell but his gaze was a bit softer for a moment as he looked at you.

Roman’s gaze flickered to Stewy for a moment, Roman did think it was a bit odd how quiet Stewy was and wondered if that was a cause for anxiety but you still seemed more comfortable around him than anyone else.

“Dad?” You squeak out as your gaze locks on your father’s before Roman can ask you another question about your state.

“Yes, Porce?” He responds looking over at you curiously, the squeak catches his attention. He walks a bit closer taking in a large apprehension in your eyes.

Logan thinks you look as fragile as ever, his faint-hearted porcelain doll of a daughter is the literal thought he has, he almost says it to you. Stewy sees the thought in your father’s face and it makes him uncomfortable. He hates how you’ve always been viewed as a fragile piece of fine chinaware that needs to be kept on a shelf, locked away almost or else you’re at risk of slipping and cracking which would be twisted amusement to your family.

“Can we go into the study for a minute please?” You quietly ask as you fidget with your fingers, trying to give him the most pleasant smile you can while trying not to draw attention to yourself, despite knowing it’s useless.

He looks at you and his brow quickly furrows and then his gaze which is strongly laced with suspicion lands on Stewy.

“No, nothing’s wrong Dad, just please-”

“What is it?” He asks more firmly, his patience slipping for a moment as he glares at his future son-in-law.

His attention stays on Stewy before briefly turning back to you for a moment. He doesn’t look or sound impressed. The command in his voice has now caught the attention of everyone else in the penthouse. Their eyes focus on the three of you and you can feel it.

“Study. Please. Dad.” You breathe out. Stewy begins to start rubbing his hand in a comforting circle on your back.

“Please, Mr Roy? Just a quick chat about some good news?” Stewy asks as he continues to stand next to you for support. His voice is level, far more confident and assertive than yours. Logan looks at you again, it’s the doe-eyed eyes of his porcelain doll who rarely asks for anything that makes him give in to the request.

“Oh fuck it, fine.” Logan huffs out as he then walks to the study. You follow behind him and Stewy gives your side a little squeeze as his hand stays on your back. His body is practically pressed against your side as a reminder that he’s here. You try to focus on your breathing and take deep breaths as you head to the study.

You walk into the study and Logan leans against the desk, raising his eyebrows at you and waving his hands out in a dramatic gesture for you to spill whatever it is. Your heart is pounding so loud, it feels like somebody has gone inside of you to record it just so they can blast it in your ears like an obnoxious podcast. You can tell your father is becoming impatient as you twiddle with your fingers.

Your hands shake a little and you try to ground yourself with the calming sensation of Stewy’s hand still on your back. His other hand quickly softly holds onto one of your hands, as he fulfils his earlier promise his hand gently squeezes yours.

“Stewy and I, we’re engaged. He um, Stewy proposed a couple of nights ago. We wanted to tell you first.” You finally get out.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” You're terrified at that response, somehow it feels more chilling than if he'd been vocal with disdain. It's the uncertain nature. Stewy, rubs his thumb over your hand picking up on how you tensed up again. There’s an undecipherable blank look on Logan’s face that makes you want to melt into Stewy.

“That’s good.” Logan had looked down briefly and now he’s looked back up, his gaze is on you but it then flicks over to Stewy and stays there for a moment.

“Thank you-”

“Marrying a shark.”

“What?” You immediately, sharply blurt out as your eyes widen, Stewy’s eyes widen at that as well and his eyebrows dramatically raise so high that they nearly touch his hairline.

“No, I’m glad, he’ll… he'll look after you.” He looks at Stewy, it’s an expression that doesn’t contain disdain but you have absolutely no idea what it is. You quickly think that could be worse. “You need that. I’m glad that you’re taken care of in that way, Porce.” You and Stewy are silent at that but then your father continues again. "Are you pregnant?”

“No, we’re not. That wasn’t a factor in this sir.” Stewy promptly responds as he looks at Logan.

Stewy’s trying to be polite like he always is, polite like how his parents raised him to always be. His loving parents that are nothing like yours. He wants to say that you don’t need protecting, everyone knows about your anxiety but that doesn’t make you the porcelain doll or dormouse that they think of and treat you as. That what you have is a loving and respectful partnership of equals not designated roles of perceived weaknesses and strengths.

But he knows that would sour this moment and that it would make everything worse. You know that marrying Stewy makes it easier to step away even more from your family. In the ways that matter and are more detrimental. It’s something you’re both more than aware of.

“I can expect grandchildren though?” He asks the question seriously. The question felt prepared and he surprisingly looked almost disappointed in Stewy’s answer, which greatly surprises you. He wasn’t as cruel to Sophie and Iverson as he had been to you and your siblings but nobody would call him a warm and doting grandparent. You find the interest odd to say the least and Stewy shares that opinion as well.

“Well yes.” You’re a little more at ease but still taken aback at the whole conversation and the nature of this topic is beginning to make you feel a little uncomfortable. “Eventually… That’s the plan…”

You and Stewy had discussed children and were in agreement about that but it was still a couple of years away at least. The idea of timing was something you’d both agreed on and you were happy with it. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited about the idea of Stewy as a father.

“Good, good. Well, that’s good Porce. Well uh congratulations to you both.” He says it as he appears to be thinking something that he’s not voicing, he appears to be choosing his words carefully but he then gives you a hug.

“Well, welcome to the family officially, I suppose.” He says as he shakes Stewy’s hand. “You should tell the others, celebratory lunch now, huh.” His gaze is serious but it looks almost content, he’s not looking at either you or Stewy though. You have no idea how to interpret any of that. Then he leaves the study and closes the door behind him.

“Well-”

“That was weird.” You finish off for Stewy. He nods at that. As you’re both left in the now silent shadow of your father’s chaos. The study feels a lot more quieter and larger now that he’s gone, almost darker you think.

“Yeah, it was.” He says as he rests his chin against your shoulder and presses a few soft kisses to your neck. “How are you feeling?”

“Um.” You pause to think for a moment, you’re definitely less physically anxious now but it’s still there a bit and your mouth feels a bit dry. But you don’t know how to feel, you should feel happy and celebrated by your family in this moment and you know it could’ve gone worse, part of you was expecting that. But you didn’t expect this overwhelming sense of confusion, it engulfs you. “Better. Weird though I guess, I don’t know what to make of that all really.” You answer as you relax into his warm arms. He presses some more soft kisses to you as a response and you lift one of his hands up to your lips to press a gentle kiss there.

“I guess we break the news to everyone now?” He breathes out against your neck, it tickles a little and gets a small giggle out of you.

“I guess so.” You whisper while nodding, even though you want to stay frozen like this in Stewy’s proximity. It’s free of cruel words and unreadable gazes.

Your father broke the news almost immediately as you and Stewy were out of the study. Marcia congratulated you both and seemed genuinely happy for you. Connor immediately hugged you and he gave Stewy a hug as well. That was sweet you thought and you were grateful for Connor's kindness, Shiv had just nodded at the whole thing which wasn’t too surprising. Something was bound to be said soon you knew. You then saw the glint in Roman's eyes and immediately knew you didn't want to hear whatever was going to come out so you went in search of the wine, even though Marcia had asked some of the staff to get out champagne. Shiv quickly follows you.

“How did that go?” Kendall asks as he sidles up to Stewy, ignoring the fact that Connor was in the middle of a sentence to Stewy.

“Well he called me a shark,” Stewy says bluntly as he takes a sip from his glass, watching Shiv follow you and start a conversation. The conversation didn't look too tense yet Stewy noted. Kendall looks confused for a second as he processes what Stewy said but is brought back as Roman snorts loudly behind them and laughs like a hyena. “So you know, fucking A- considering everything.” Stewy bluntly continued.

“Fuck, that’s amazing!” Roman says still laughing, Stewy raises his eyebrows and gives him a bemused look.

"Well, it's you know something…" Connor says noting that Stewy looks impressively unaffected by the moniker.

"Do you remember when Porce went vegetarian? Marrying a marine apex predator, that's like… just so Greenpeace ally of her!" Roman teases in a feminine vocal fry register. "But hey, congratulations man for joining the gilded cage!"

"Rome-" Connor says.

***********

“So what, housewife Hosseini?” Shiv asks as she comes to stand right behind you.

“Well I’ll be wife Hosseini at least, haven't decided on the rest. Looking down on housewives Shiv?” You ask somewhat innocently while looking at the bottles of wine.

“You’re going to change it?” She asks shocked, her voice goes up and there’s a look of horror etched onto her face.

“My name?” You don't dare to look away from the labels, you know the answer, you know what she thinks but you don't want to know what the expression is on her face, you don’t want to see it.

“You’re not changing it to Hosseini are you?” She's audibly horrified at the prospect her voice heavily tinged with disgust that's clear. “Probably, I don’t know. It’s still early betrothed days.” You answer softly, trying to ignore the anxiety your sister gives you and instead on the love you have for her. Shiv stands back for a second and chuckles humourlessly.

“You’re un-fucking-believable! You know that right?” She exclaims.

You then look up at your older sister as you pick a bottle up and start pouring yourself a glass. You do it somewhat unflinchingly, which shocks her but she does her best to hide it, you see a glimmer of it in her always piercing blue eyes though. She’s especially surprised as she’d seen how you were when you came in and started the conversation with Logan.

"Do you want one?" You ask. You're not sure what else to say to her other than that.

"No- God. Fuck off." Her tone is now irritated and she looks at you for a moment, analysing you like you're a foreign species that's never been encountered before. One that horrifies and intrigues her all at once. She pauses for a moment thinking over her words. "You know, Tom and I are planning to move in. It's basically all confirmed."

Her manner is curt, you sense another shift in the tension. It makes your shoulders tighten a little.

“Oh? That’s great news, Shiv. Congratulations, I’m happy for you both!” You say to your sister and she just continues to analyse you for a few more seconds longer than you’d like so you turn around to walk away with your glass of wine.

Shiv then goes to talk to your father and you see your brothers talking to Stewy. Tom awkwardly stands on the outskirts of the inner circle that has been formed, it’s typical fashion of your brothers to essentially, completely ignore Tom. You can’t help but feel sorry for the socially awkward, desperate-to-be-liked man. He hasn’t been in the picture as long as Stewy, Rava or Grace which doesn’t help his case either.

“Hey Tom, how are you?” You ask somewhat quietly as you come to stand by him. He jumps a little at the sudden movement and acknowledgement but visibly relaxes when he sees it’s you.

“Uh hi, good, good, good. How are you? Well obviously good!” He awkwardly laughs for a small moment and you politely smile at him. “But congratulations! That’s exciting.” He nods while speaking.

“Thank you! And congratulations to you too!” He smiles at you but his brow furrows a little at that. “About you and Shiv- she said you two are finally moving in?”

“Oh? Oh! Well, we’d talked about it a few times but she was a bit uh hesitant… I didn’t know… When did she uh say this?” He asks.

You can see the confusion on his face, a glimpse of detectable sadness. He doesn’t have an issue being this frank with you because he doesn’t view you as a threat or a manipulator. It would be an entirely different and even more painfully awkward conversation if it was your brothers.

“Just-just before Tom. It might’ve just been good news girl talk before she wanted to chat with you. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah sure. It was probably just girl talk.” He says it unconvincingly, more to himself than you.

You and Tom both know it wasn’t girl talk. You and Shiv have never done anything like that. It’s clear to both of you that this was some way to try and draw attention away from your news. You know that it’s also linked to the fact that you’ve reached a milestone before her, one that she wishes she’d gotten to before you, especially because of your father’s reaction. It was part of a Shiv mind game because every Roy child was preprogrammed to compete in every aspect of life. But in particular, for your father’s affection and praise.

“Well um, would you excuse me, please? Thank you.” He says and you nod and then he’s gone.

"Eating you alive?" You ask with a small smile directed at Stewy as you step closer towards him and your brothers. He shakes his head softly at you and smiles warmly. It’s such a comforting sight, there’s just pure adoration in his features and it’s the nicest feeling. You can’t help but smile widely at him.

Roman lets out another loud, hyena-esque laugh at your question though. "We're the shark meat here." He quips with a large, goofy smirk.

"You told them?” You question with a sigh while looking from Roman to Stewy. “He'll never shut up about it! It's going to be a lifetime of shark jokes now." You say to Stewy and he smirks at you with a slight shrug.

He doesn't really care what they say or think, it's only your voice he actually wants to listen to in this room and only your thoughts that he cares about. Your smile makes a lifetime of bad shark jokes from Roman worth it. As long as you're happy is what he thinks. Stewy also knows that this helps create more boundaries for you and a degree of separation for you to set and maintain more boundaries while getting further away from the haunted house.

"You could've snuck-swam! Swam in a shark pun or something in there at least. God." Roman responds before walking off to get a champagne flute.

“Maybe it’s time for you all to swim to the table for lunch?” Marcia says with a smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, especially evident when Roman scoffs at her.

“So?” Kendall comes over, leaning against your seat as he looks down at you as you sit down. Not everybody is in here yet and his tone is a bit playful but quiet.

“So?” You ask back, dragging out each syllable.

“You’re happy with everything?”

“Mmm.” You hum. “Why? If not, you’re going to storm the facilities for a different ring cut?” You ask with a small laugh as you tilt your head to look into his eyes, they twinkle a little as he smirks.

“Uh-huh. I already have several people on standby, with uh fucking pitchforks and everything.” He banters back.

“Such an organised and onto-it big brother must be the Capricorn in your chart.”

“Well, I haven’t prepared for everything.” He says before taking a sip from his drink.

“Oh?” You ask curious where this train of thought of his is going to go.

“Still working on a plan to take out the uh groom-to-be if that’s required. Which it’s bound to be at some stage, for my uh sake if not yours.” He teases, your brow furrows at that and he can’t help but laugh at seeing that expression on your face. It reminds him of the shock and grumpy expression that would occasionally plaster itself onto your face as a child.

“I’ll send you my next therapy invoice.”

“If any of us kids should be paying for that, it’s Roman.” He says and you both laugh at that and nod.

“You’re not wrong.” You reply as you look away from him to where Roman stands talking to Grace and Shiv.

You then slump against the back of the chair and sink down a bit into it and look up at Kendall he laughs at that and then the humour leaves his eyes and they’re more serious as he looks down, hovering over you.

“You are happy though?” He asks again, his tone more serious than before. You nod.

“Yes. Extremely” You say as you look up at him and then poke his nose gently with a little popping noise. He rolls his eyes and laughs.

“So mature.”

“You’re the one that was offering to off my husband.”

“It was a uh you know, heads up not an offer. Plan hasn’t been finalised for it to be a formal offer.” He immediately says.

“Uh-huh. Because that makes all the difference.”

“You fucking bet it does.” He says before going to take his seat next to Logan.

**************

The rest of the lunch had gone surprisingly okay for Roy standards. You were now at the home you and Stewy shared, recuperating from today’s lunch and getting ready for dinner at Stewy’s parents. Fortunately, that would be something that wouldn’t be emotionally and socially taxing at all, especially in comparison to your family’s gatherings.

You’re in the ensuite finishing getting ready when Stewy comes over leaning against the doorframe, you give him a smile and you can see that he’s thinking about something as he watches you.

“Wait a second,” Stewy says as his eyes focus on you in concentration.

“What?” You ask looking at him quizzically.

“There’s something in your eye.”

“There’s nothing in my eye?” It comes out as more of a question than a statement as your tone is laced with confusion.

“Yes, there is. Just wait!” He says sweetly as he comes over with a smile on his face, he plants one hand softly on your hip and the other on your cheek as he looks into your eyes closely, inspecting them. Your cheeks heat up at the intimacy of the touch and the look in his eyes.

“I don’t feel anything Stewy-”

“Just wait a second honey, please.” He pretends to get something from your eye that’s obviously not there and pulls it away with a pleased smile on his face. You chuckle a little at that and his smile widens at the sound of your laugh.

His hand stays on your hip and his other quickly returns back to your cheek, his eyes are on your lips for a moment before they go back to your eyes. The sweetness in his eyes is still there but the playfulness is gone, replaced with just love and affection.

“What was that for?” You gently prod and he flashes you another smile.

“You’re just really pretty.” You giggle a little at that and he chuckles as well. “I just wanted an excuse to look at your pretty eyes again close up.” He admits with a genuine smile still on his face as he continues to look into your eyes. Your cheeks heat up again at that.

“You don’t need an excuse for that.” You whisper while looking at his soft lips. “But that was pretty smooth Hosseini.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you think so Mrs Hosseini to be.” He responds as he notices your gaze on his mouth.

He quickly tilts his head and presses his lips against yours as his thumb brushes against your cheek. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck as your mouth opens to invite him in more, deepening the kiss. You continue to kiss, for longer than you probably should if you’re going to get to his family’s place on time.

You eventually break away for air and he smiles at you, he looks absolutely smitten and that’s how you feel about him.

“We need to go soon.”

“Oh?” He asks playfully as if he’s oblivious to the dinner plans.

“If we want to make it on time, we shouldn’t be late…” He then leans again to start pressing kisses against your jaw and then along your neck. He hums in agreement against your throat at that and you gasp at that. “Stewy!”

“You’re already Baba’s favourite and I’m his son so I don’t think you need to worry.” He breathes out in between kisses. You giggle at that and nod.

“Exactly, so I can’t risk that, can I?” You say with a smirk, he sighs out against your neck and it tickles. You gently place your fingers on his jaw and guide him back up for another deep kiss on the lips.

“I suppose, we can go now.” He says melodramatically before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“How generous of you.” You say while smiling at him while wiping some of your lipstick off of him.

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pink-sparkly-witch · 6 months

Text

The One That Got Away - Chapter Fourteen

Warnings: flirting, insecurities.

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this, so all mistakes are mine.

You can catch up here!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

“Hey, Princess,” Dean said as he answered her call. They’d started to fall back to old ways, calling each other several times a day. Not that either of them minded much.

“Hey, Dean,” Y/N responded, trying to sound as happy as he did, but her words came out in a sigh.

“Uh oh, I know that tone. What’s wrong?” Concern laced Dean’s voice and made her guilt grow.

“About tonight…” Y/N sighed again, and Dean’s heart sank. “One of my nurses had to take a leave of absence, and I’m the only one who can cover her shift at short notice. I’m sorry, Dean. I was really looking forward to our date tonight.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart. I’ve been there myself a hundred times. I understand, and, hey, name another day and I’m there.”

“How about Thursday?” Y/N asked, sounding more upbeat than she had before.

“I can’t do Thursday. I’m on shift. How about Friday?” Dean replied.

“I’m doing a double shift Friday night. But I could do Sunday?”

“Can’t,” Dean huffed frustratedly. “It’s-”

“Family dinner on Sundays,” they said together and shared a laugh.

“Unless…” Dean continued, “you know you’d be more than welcome-”

“No!” Y/N panicked.

“Come on. We’re not that bad!” Dean chuckled. “Besides, you’ve already broken the ice by having them all in the same room when I was in the hospital.”

“Yeah, but that was on my turf, where I was in control and everyone was too worried about you to focus on me,” she explained.

“Okay, we can save family dinner for another time,” Dean laughed.

“Thank you,” she chuckled softly. “So, it looks like our date will have to wait until next week.”

“Well, sweetheart, they do say that absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Dean said, and she didn’t need to be able to see him to know he was sporting that cocky grin she loved.

“So you’re saying you’ll be even more smitten with me by next week?” Y/N grinned when she heard Dean laugh.

“Are you flirting with me?” he teased.

“What? No! Okay… maybe a little,” she giggled, feeling the heat rise to her face and settle on her cheeks. “And don’t let that go to your head, Winchester!”

“The woman of my dreams is flirting with me! You’re damn right I’m gonna let that boost my ego!” The cockiness Dean had had always made her knees weak, and it seemed some things never changed.

“Okay, while you do that,” Y/N chuckled, “my break is almost over, and I gotta get back to work. So, how about next Tuesday for our date?”

“That works for me, sweetheart. I’ll talk to you before that, though, right? I don’t think I can go a whole week without at least speaking to you,” he said, the grin evident in his voice.

“Now who’s flirting?” she teased, and Dean laughed. “I’ll call you on Friday before I go to work.”

“Alright, talk to you Friday, but I’ll text you before then,” Dean smiled. “Have a good night, Princess.”

“Thanks, Dean. Stay safe on shift,” she replied.

“Always, Princess.”

Dean went to his brother’s house to work on the nursery. Sam had asked for his help at the weekend, and Dean happily agreed to work on it whenever he had free time. He’d been there yesterday and had planned to go again tomorrow, but now that he had an unexpected free night, he decided to go over.

“Dean! I wasn’t expecting you tonight,” Sam said as he greeted his big brother at the door. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a date with Y/N?”

“She took my shift, didn’t she?” Jess spoke from the sofa.

“Wait… she said one of her nurses had to take a leave of absence… she meant you?” Dean shoved his way into the house and crouched next to his sister-in-law. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I had to start maternity leave a little early. Hazard of the job at this stage. High stress leads to high blood pressure, and long hours on my feet have given me painfully swollen ankles. Y/N really took my shift tonight?”

“Yeah, she said she was the only one who could cover it at short notice,” Dean confirmed. “You, uh, you don’t think she was just saying that, do you? About being the only one who could do it?”

“No, I don’t,” Jess smiled. “Y/N signs up for her share of overtime shifts, just like the rest of us, but she’ll always offer a cover shift to one of her nurses first so they can get a little extra. And she was really looking forward to tonight, which means she couldn’t get someone from another department to cover for me either. If she said she’s the only one, you can take her word on that.”

“Okay,” Dean nodded, accepting what Jess had told him. “And you’re good?”

“Yes, Dean,” Jess rolled her eyes. “Now, tell me why you thought Y/N was lying?”

“It’s not that I think she’s lying. It’s just that I keep thinking she’s gonna tell me she’s changed her mind about staying and is going back to Chicago,” Dean admitted. “So, I was wondering if this might be her way of pushing me away.”

“You think she’ll leave again?” Sam asked.

“Why not? She had a good life up there,” Dean countered. “Friends, a good job-”

“That had her working over seventy hours a week, Dean! It was a good life if all she wanted to do was work. Her job there got her where she is today and has made her a phenomenal nurse, the best I’ve ever worked with, but it wasn’t a life. Not really. Talk to her about it. She’ll tell you that herself.”

“Come on, Dean. You really think she’d have taken a job here and moved all her belongings across the country if she wasn’t planning on staying?” Sam said, always the voice of reason. Dean often went for the emotional response before the logical one, at least when it involved his own feelings.

“She left before,” Dean shrugged, “and my biggest fear since she came back is that she’ll leave again.”

“Have you talked to her about this?” Sam asked.

“When we first talked, like really talked, I asked if she was back for good, and she said it depends on what happens with us.”

“And when she called to cancel, you thought she’d changed her mind? Realised it was a mistake coming back?” Jess smirked softly, understanding what fuelled her brother-in-law’s insecurities.

“I always find a way to fuck everything up, and I always end up alone. It’s only a matter of time ‘til she realises that being with me is a mistake,” Dean voiced.

“That’s not true. The only reason things didn’t work with the others is because they weren’t Y/N. They weren’t your girl,” Sam comforted his older brother. “You and Y/N started dating at fifteen, right? And were together for how long? Three years?” he asked, and Dean nodded. “Before that, you were best friends. Wherever you were, she wasn’t far behind and vice versa. Always. And you and I both know that if it hadn’t been for her father and upbringing, she’d never have left, and you’d still be together now. I guarantee it.”

“You should listen to your brother, Dean. Sometimes he talks sense,” Jess smirked, and the older Winchester smiled a little.

“What probably isn’t helping,” Sam continued, “is that your first date was what, like a month ago? And because of her father and work, you haven’t had that second date yet-”

“I’m sorry. I feel like that’s my fault,” Jess frowned.

“That’s not on you. Don’t even go there,” Dean responded firmly.

“But if I hadn’t-” Jess started, but Sam quickly interrupted.

“The point is,” Sam veered the conversation back on track, “that everything seems to be going against you right now, and it’s no one’s fault,” he glanced pointedly at Jess. “You arranged another day for your date, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “Next Tuesday.”

“Then you’ve got to stay strong, keep fighting. Keep calling, keep trying! You never know when an opportunity might come up for coffee or lunch; even if you can’t see her, remember that you’re meant to be together. You’re being tested and need to fight and not give up because you’ve hit a few hurdles.” The younger Winchester said.

“I know. You’re right, Sam,” Dean nodded. “Can’t just be easy, though, huh?” he chuckled.

“With your history, I really wish it was,” Sam laughed. “God knows you deserve it. Both of you do. And that’s why you keep expecting things to go wrong.”

“Alright, enough of this chick flick shit. Let’s get to work on my nephew’s nursery.” Dean changed the subject, wanting the attention off him and his insecurities.

“Nephew?” Sam scoffed. “You know something we don’t?”

“That,” Dean exclaimed, pointing at his sister-in-law’s protruding stomach, “is a boy. I feel it in my bones, Sammy!”

“Well, can you tell your nephew to stop kicking my bladder?” Jess grinned.

“No can do, sweetheart. Winchester boys are stubborn. There’s gonna be no telling him what to do!”

“Figures,” Jess rolled her eyes. “Already in cahoots with your daddy and uncle, huh?” she giggled, rubbing her stomach affectionately.

ONE WEEK LATER

As Dean walked into the firehouse for his last shift before his date with Y/N, he texted her the same thing he’d sent every morning this week.

Dean Good morning beautiful 😘

She was working the night shift, and Dean smiled widely when she responded with her usual reply instantly.

Y/N Good night handsome 😘

Dean walked into the changing room to change into his uniform and put his belongings in his locker, knowing that in twenty-four hours, when they had this text exchange again, it would be the day of their second date.

When he found out that she would finish work at seven on Tuesday morning, he’d asked if she wanted to change their date to later in the week to let her sleep and had said no in a tone that killed any further argument he could make.

Y/N explained that after her last night shift, she never slept more than a few hours, so she’d be tired enough to go to sleep at a normal time and get into a routine to enjoy her days off, so, she insisted they go; not wanting to postpone it even longer than they’d already had to.

Dean couldn’t deny hearing how keen Y/N was for their date was immensely comforting and did a lot to tame his insecurities. Still, nothing seemed to stop the expectation that something would go wrong somewhere. That feeling in his gut was unwelcome, and he could only hope it was just his nerves playing tricks on him.

Brushing his worries to one side, Dean tucked his shirt in, closed his locker and took a deep breath, throwing a silent prayer to the universe that his shift would pass quickly.

Next Chapter >>

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#the one that got away #firefighter!dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #tw: child abuse #tw: alcoholism #tw: physical abuse #tw: verbal abuse #firefighter!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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nyoomfruits · 9 months

Note

005. a private jet miles high in the sky .

This can be nothing but lestappen 💙❤️ tia!

005. a private jet miles high in the sky

They’re running late, and so it’s a bit of a frenzy getting into the plane, getting everybody situated and ready for take off in time, which means Max and Charles don’t really interact until they’re both falling into their respective seats across from each other and finally make eye contact.

And immediately burst out into laughter.

It’s relief, Charles thinks, as he clutches his side and doubles over, laughter turning more into a choked off wheeze as Max throws his head back and clutches at his stomach. It’s months of stress and pressure and worry falling off their shoulders as it truly starts to sink in what they just did.

Charles laughs until his sides start hurting, until no noise comes out anymore, until there are tears in his eyes. Max, across from him is much the same, wiping his hand across his cheeks and letting out small hiccupping laughs as they finally settle down a little again.

“God, Silvia is going to kill me,” Charles says, when they’ve regained themselves again. The plane has started taxing now, and Charles feels the engine roar to life underneath them.

“You didn’t speak to her? At the track?” Max asks, surprised.

Charles pulls a face. “No. That might have been a little on purpose, but don’t tell her that.”

Max laughs. “I mean, PR is PR, right? And this is definitely going to be making some front pages.” It sounds, cocky, almost, but he’s not wrong.

It is, after all, the first time two drivers publicly came out by making out on the top step of the podium.

“God, I can’t believe we just did that,” Charles says, and another giggle escapes him. “When you said, that we should go public, this is not what I had in mind.”

Max’s face shutters a little. “Shit, I’m sorry, did I-“

“No,” Charles says, cutting him off. “No, Max, don’t worry. It was perfect. I loved it. It was unexpected, that’s all.”

Max smiles at him, soft and fond. “Good.” And then, because he can never go too long without saying it. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Charles says, and Max’s smile nearly rivals the one he’d had on the podium earlier that day.

Max had won the race, Charles in second. It had been a while, since they’d both shared the podium, and Charles felt giddy with it. Not just with the feeling of being up there again, after what had been a pretty shit season so far, but also the feeling of Max, next to him. Max must’ve been excited too, kept beaming down at him, proud and happy and in love, and then, right as they got to the champagne spraying, Max had pulled him up on the top step, out of nowhere, and pressed their lips together in a searing kiss.

Charles had melted into it almost instantly.

There’s going to be repercussions, probably. He doesn’t know yet what the FIA will say, but chances are they won’t be happy. And their teams will probably have a thing or two to say about it as well. But right now, it doesn’t really matter.

Right now, Max is sitting across from him, beaming smile on his face, his hair still sticky with champagne, looking absolutely radiant. Right now, Charles feels like he’s on top of the world, like he’s the luckiest man on earth, like nothing can take this away from him.

Right now, Charles Leclerc is madly, madly, in love with Max Verstappen, and the whole world knows.

#figured we needed some TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF after that shit show of a race (for charles at least) and like NO lestappen moments all weekend #lestappen #drabble

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thachinchilla864 · 5 months

Text

Jamil Viper x reader with asthma headcannons

(A/N!) This was not requested! The reader is GN

TW: N/A

Romantic or Platonic?: Romantic

•When Jamil first met you it didn’t take him long to figure out that you had asthma

•I mean he’s seen you use your inhaler before not in a stalker-ish way but in an observatory way

•he won’t admit it but he does feel a slight pang of pity every time he sees you panicking as you scramble to grab your inhaler as you go on some adventure you were dragged into

•although he’s so busy babysitting watching over Kalim that he really doesn’t pay you any mind

•that is until Leona’s overblot Jamil had somehow gotten dragged in to fight against the angry lion along with you and a couple other students

•he saw that you had been knocked to the ground and that you were scrambling around looking for your inhaler as you gasped for air

•he spotted your inhaler not too far from him so her grabbed it and ran over to you giving it to you

•now he isn’t saying that his heart skipped a beat when you looked up at him gratefully and say “thank you” breathlessly

•and no he totally doesn’t think that you look really good under pressure while fighting Leona

•and after the fight he totally wasn’t looking at your lips and imagining how they’d feel against his

•…

•oh no.

•the realization hits him like a train as he watches you limp off and he feels anger bubbling in his chest at Leona for hurting you

•after that Jamil tries to spend the time that he can getting closer to you and he always checks in on you making sure your inhaler is full and if you can’t afford to buy refills from Sam he will totally pay for it

•what? No he’s not doing this because he being nice to you he simply just pitied you that’s it

•poor boy will deny it until he’s about to burst

•then Azul’s overblot happens and this time he willingly fought alongside you

•he deflected an attack you didn’t see coming and he almost freezes at the grateful look you give him the way the light reflects in your beautiful eyes and the way the sweat drips down your forehead and every time you take your inhaler he can’t help but imagine how you would look-

•he is snapped out of his thoughts by you tackling him out of the way of an attack and checking on him

•he quickly regains his composure but he can’t get it out of his head the way your arms felt around him

•after Azul’s overblot he helps walk you to the nurse making sure that you’re ok

•”are you ok?” “Ok good I’d hate to see anything bad happen to you love-“

•crap! He let it slip

•he can’t help but feel a warm feeling in his chest as he sees your blush as you look at him in shock

•and that’s how the two of you started dating and when I say that Jamil gets even more protective of you I mean that not only does he keep extra inhaler refills on him at all times he also keeps a first aid kit and at least one of your favorite snacks near whom at all possible times

•oh sevens help him you have the snake boy absolutely wrapped around your finger he doesn’t mind doing things for you but he still loves it whenever you do stuff for him and make him feel in control

•speaking of being in control when Azul exposes him for lying the first person he looks to for comfort is you he tries to get you to explain his actions

•he had vented to you multiple times about how he was sick of Kalim and constantly being his servant as you ran your fingers through his hair but you never expected him to try and hypnotize everyone

•and then he overblotted and he felt so powerful but he felt a mix of anger and sadness as you started fighting him

•he loved you and wanted you to be right beside him as he ruled the world but you were defying him?!

•whenever he finally snaps out of his overblot he looks horrified at what he’s done the damage he’s caused but what hurt him the most was you and how hurt you were because of him he was heartbroken seeing your gasps for air but before he could get you your inhaler Ace already beat him to it as a few other students held him back and started taking him to the nurse’s office

•he felt so bad he felt like he didn’t deserve you and that the next time you saw him you’d break up with him but on the contrary when you run up and hug him telling him it’s ok he breaks down and sobs into your arms

•”I am so so sorry” he would exclaim in between sobs

•he eventually calms down and you two make up and everything goes back to normal

•and then there’s the VDC so there’s that :D

___________________________________________

A/N: thank you for reading have a good day/night and remember to drink plenty of water <3

#jamil viper x reader #disney twisted wonderland x reader #twsited wonderland #twst #twst jamil #kalim al asim #azul ashengrotto #ace trappola #leona kingscholar #overblot #overblot x reader #disney twst #overblot jamil #jamil viper #x reader

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 3 months

Text

Wonderful World - Part 21**

Thanks for your patience with this one! Finally got around to finishing it! Series Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of grief, different topics relating to pregnancy, disowning, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, cum play

WC: 10.1k

The Christmas holiday had been wonderful with Harry’s parents, Paul and Catherine. They were both so kind and warm towards her, Celeste, and Damian. Harry’s mom, Catherine, absolutely loved Disneyland, she even left with a pair of ears on her head that matched with Diana and Celeste’s. She had also taken a lot of care in getting to know Diana better, she would talk to her more than Harry at times. But Diana understood that she just wanted to get a feel for her and what her intentions were with her son. She did mentioned to Diana how much she loved to see Harry with Celeste; she brought a side out of him that she loved to see from her son. It brought a closeness between Catherine and Diana and even Damian, who had served as the sole paternal figure of sorts for Celeste until Harry came along into their lives.

Harry’s instinct about Celeste and his dad getting on well was correct. He, Celeste, and Paul did have a jam session or two during their visit. Paul was so smart and gentle, like Harry. It was evident to her that he really wanted to nourish his relationship with Harry and they spent a lot of time together when they didn’t have plans with Diana and her family.

Harry shared with her that he had of course explained to them how they were proceeding with sharing their relationship with Celeste soon. They had decided to do so after the New Year, they’d have breakfast and talk about it with her. And he told Diana that his parents were very insightful and offered him some advice about how to proceed in this relationship, which Harry took to heart because he truly wanted the relationship to succeed with Diana.

************

Damian had started to join Harry for his workout sessions while he was in town and it gave them a chance to get to know each other better as well. Harry had learned a lot about Damian and Diana’s family, their dynamic, and of course with her permission, Damian shared a lot of the things that were a bit harder for her to share with others about her family life growing up. Damian of course, wanted to ensure that he wasn’t giving Harry the lowdown on his sister for nothing at all, so as they had some coffee after their workout he decided to bring this up.

“Hey, so obviously I think you’re a great guy and you’ve really come through for Di and Celeste.”

“Yeah, it’s been wonderful to do so.” Harry assured.

“Yeah? Not too crazy?” Damian asked with a smile.

“I mean, a little crazy at times…” he confessed, “But not in a bad way at all.” He smiled.

“Well thank you for sticking around.”

“I said I’d do my best to.” He reminded and Damian smiled.

“So this whole thing with Di? I mean you think it’s the real deal?” He asked and Harry nodded.

“Oh definitely.” He smiled, “I’ve never felt more complete or happy with the way things are going with her. And now that Celeste is more or less wanting this to happen between us, it seems like the perfect time to give it a real shot. We’ve talked about it, what we want, and we’re on the same page.”

“And what is that?”

“We want to have a life together eventually. We want our relationship to progress as normally as possible, no rushing into anything just because the feelings are there, you know?”Damian nodded, “Obviously, her life is already established with Celeste and we also don’t want to make abrupt changes. Like we’re still gonna have our own places, keep our relationship as private as possible so that we can work on things together without any pressure from Celeste-”

“Good call. She is eager for you two to get together.” He chuckled and Harry did as well.

“I know…we’re going to tell her after New Year’s. Just going to have a proper chat with her about it and share what we want. What boundaries we’re going to have, that sort of thing.”

“Good. She can be real meddlesome…” Damian chuckled, “Especially if she’s invested.”

“Oh, I am aware…” Harry smiled. “But yeah, this is not just a placeholder for me. This is what I want. I mean, I didn’t know it until it was happening that I was…missing something, you know?”

“I ummm…I don’t actually. Not yet, at least.” Damian admitted with a bit of embarrassment.

“That’s alright. I mean, is it something you want?” He asked and Damian smiled.

“Not yet…or like, I haven’t felt that yet. Ever.”

“You’ve never had your heart broken?” Harry asked and Damian shook his head.

“Nope, never…”

“Really?” He asked in a bit of disbelief.

“Yeah…” Damian chuckled, “I have had a lot of relationships and it’s not like I never cared about those people but I just don’t…want everything else. And of course, the women I’m with think they’ll change my mind if they take good care of me and all…and when it comes up and I tell them that nothing has changed for me, they get hurt and so I…feel like an ass.”

“Some people are just meant to be alone, you know?”

“Well, I’m the heir to my parents’ empire, they expect me to have an heir of my own so…that’s where it gets a bit weird.” He chuckled and Harry nodded in understanding.

“And Di is just, completely out of the picture?” He asked.

“Oh yeah…I mean, after what happened at your practice my mom said herself that she would always hold that against her. She’s never broken a promise to me in my entire life so…”

“Fuck…I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t be. You were right in what you did. No one as ever stood up to her or ever called her out for any of it except Diana. My dad isn’t like that but he…he’d rather not go up against her. She’s the boss.” He chuckled.

“Women are always the boss.” Harry smiled.

“They are smarter…” Damian confessed, “There’s this woman from our branch in Spain? Lola.” He smiled and Harry nodded, “She’s just an assistant but man is she fucking brilliant.” He smiled, “Her boss, our chief marketing strategist for that branch, runs all his ideas by her. I overheard it once before a big board meeting. She was explaining to him what it was he needed to say. After the meeting, which he totally rocked, I approached her about it, she played dumb…I told her I saw and overheard it as they were prepping and I offered a new job and a raise and she turned it down. Said she was happy doing what she was doing. Says it every time I bring it up to her.”

“Do you like her?” Harry asked.

“She’s fascinating but no. Kind of reminds me of Di, so I look out for her a lot.” He explained, “She’s fucking brilliant, you know? Diana got into Columbia all on her own.”

“Yeah, she told me about that.” Harry smiled.

“I know she’s been through a lot of shit but sometimes I wonder what her life would be like if none of it would have happened, you know? Where would she be? Where would I be?”

“Where do you think she’d be?”

“In Mexico City, buried beneath a mountain of HR paperwork at our corporation’s HQ.” He said and Harry couldn’t envision that. “She got accepted into the Business Management concentration at Columbia, very competitive as an undergrad. She minored in psychology, wanted to do things along the social psychology area though and then do graduate work in HR Management. She didn’t want to be in the business. But there was a whole fucking plan, obviously, it wasn’t really her plan…” Damian explained, “It’s what she was expected to do. So she had to spin it in a way in which she could still do something she cared about so that she could…survive. I mean, she’s always loved and cared for people, so I think she would’ve been alright going down that route for a bit. But I think she would’ve been put in challenging situations that made her choose things that in her eyes weren’t right. And I don’t know if I’m awful for saying this, but as much pain as she’s experienced, maybe it was for the best? Because she would be so miserable. Absolutely hate her life if it were anything other than this…” Damian said, “She’s happy now, doing something she loves.”

“How’d she get into the whole Spanish thing?”

“Well in terms of our culture, she’s always loved it, since we were kids. She was taking a class at Columbia about Latin American culture as an elective and well, when she transferred to another school she just stuck with that because she really liked it. I supposed it was also a comfort thing for her. There was so much pain and uncertainty in her life at that time that it was easier to stick to something she knew well and was familiar with, you know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Harry hummed, “But I think you’re right, she’s much happier doing what she loves, free to choose for herself than to be stuck doing something she hates. And well, we would’t have Celeste…” Harry said.

“Exactly. I think everything happens for a reason. And well, my sister’s life had gone according to my parents’ plan until she refused to terminate her pregnancy. She lost a lot, but she gained her freedom and found herself and I think that’s the most important thing to her anyway. And well, ultimately all of those things led you two together, which also has been great for her and Celeste. So I have to believe it all happened how it was supposed to.”

“Who knows, but I assure you that as long as she wants me in her life, I will be here and I will take care of her and Celeste.”

“I know you will. I trust you with them, that’s big for me.” Damian shared.

“Well thank you for trusting me.”

“You’ve earned it.” Damian assured. “If I knew that my family could be…different, I think I would be more open to marriage and kids…but my parents are just great at…sucking the life out of everything. I don’t want to bring anyone into that. Seems very irresponsible to me.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Harry nodded, “It’s why I never wanted kids of my own.”

“Your sweet old parents traumatized you?!” Damian asked in surprise and Harry chuckled.

“I think all of our parents traumatize us in a way. They’re wonderful people, don’t get me wrong, but when you’re a child you just want them around. And I grew up feeling like they loved their work more than me. And being the child of two renowned psychiatrists brings a crippling self awareness at a very young age.” He chuckled, “I viewed my parents exactly as they are from a very young age. Just regular, flawed people who made good and bad choices, like everyone else…” he sighed, “And I was resentful for a long time. The idea of coming to America, not wanting to have kids, that was initially born out of spite for them. Like Diana, I wanted my freedom. But as I got older and I fell in love with the field for myself I realized that my plan to leave and not reproduce was still what I wanted, just my intentions were wrong before. I didn’t and still don’t want to take on the legacy of what they’ve built across Europe. I think it’s great, but they hardly get to practice, which is where my heart lies. I’ve poured myself into my work and that wouldn’t be fair to my partner or my child, you know?”

“Exactly!” Damian agreed with enthusiasm, “I felt like my work with the family was an obligation before but when I delved in I fell in love with it. And I’m good at it, better than my father is. I want to make it better and that requires a lot of my time and dedication.” He said, “So, did your mind change about what you wanted? Like do you want to have kids now? With my sister?”

“Oh no, I also just don’t like babies.” Harry confessed and Damian chuckled but nodded. “Diana and I are on the same page with that. We’ve checked in again about it because well, we’re not getting any younger.” Harry shrugged, “But ummm, yeah she doesn’t want that and I don’t either. Celeste is enough for the both of us.”

“I think Di might also be a bit…traumatized about pregnancy and babies and that kind of thing. I mean, she did it all on her own, I was there when I could be, which she overestimates. I should’ve just moved back here t-to help her out more…I’ll always regret that.” He said and Harry frowned but nodded, “She just had such a hard time that I think if she did it again, even with a partner it would just fuck her up for a bit.”

“Yeah, understandably so.” Harry agreed, “I mean, at the end of the day I think we just want to make each other happy and we both agree that we don’t need that to be happy. We’ve not chosen ourselves for a long time, so this is for us. Just for us.” Harry smiled.

“Good. That’s good…” Damian smiled.

****************

The New Year came and went and Diana got a bit too nervous about telling Celeste about her and Harry. So she spoke to him and they postponed it and gave themselves one more week, and boy was that week becoming very challenging for Diana…

Specially after spending the holidays with Harry’s family, Celeste was more pushy than ever. Diana’s anxiety was getting even more out of hand. She had never known Celeste to be this defiant with her over something, but she was constantly having to ask her to please stop meddling in what she wanted for her future. But it seemed that Celeste wasn’t understanding the havoc it was wreaking on Diana’s emotions. To Celeste it seemed like playful teasing or something, but to Diana it felt suffocating.

Diana was aware that she had major abandonment issues, not just because of Wesley’s passing, but from the way her parents distanced themselves from her so suddenly, and then from Wesley’s parents as well; the people who had loved her so much and treated her like their own with such warmth and kindness. She hoped to find comfort with them, to be able to grieve with them and to count on them for support with Celeste. After all, she was their grand daughter, but his parents never really recovered from the loss and also cut off all contact. All of Celeste’s persistence was making her feel trapped and afraid of what she wanted with Harry. What if something happened to him too? That was the fear that prevented her from letting people in for all these years and it had been growing steadily and had just reached it’s boiling point.

“Baby, what’s the matter?” Harry asked Diana as he pulled her into his arms as she sobbed hard. He walked them back inside her house where it was warm. It was nearly 2am and freezing cold outside and he didn’t want her getting sick right before school started. But she just cried and cried for several minutes in his arms. Celeste was gone at a sleepover at Geri’s, so thankfully, no one was home but them two and she could say everything she wanted to say, so she did.

She told him how Celeste kept pushing her and it was making her nervous about her not respecting the boundaries they wanted to set. She told him about how she considered backing out and staying alone instead of being with him how she wanted to because it would just be easier. She told him how she feared for her heart, how she feared another loss, how she feared letting their lives entangle even deeper. She shared the internal war she was at with her head and her heart. She shared her anxieties, her hopes, and her desires. She had poured her heart out to him in a way she never had before. It was chaotic and painful, but it was also extremely vulnerable and motivated by her need for love. Not just any love, his love. She needed to know that he could still love her through all of this and most importantly, be patient with her.

It was essentially a verbal brain dump, he couldn’t take any of her feelings too personally. All of her fears were valid and he couldn’t even guarantee to her that he wouldn’t abandon her in the way she feared, that was completely out of his control. Of course, voluntarily, he would be there for as long as he could be, but sometimes shit happens and accidents happen and there’s no way to prevent that, as she had experienced already. But Harry could see that she didn’t want to give up, she was just feeling so pressured and overwhelmed. Obviously, Harry knew that Celeste didn’t intend to be badgering her mom, she just wanted to know, to be let in, probably even to gush over her love life with her the way Diana had done with her over Ben. Diana also expressed that she just couldn’t blow up on Celeste over this, she wasn’t being rude or anything, but even as Diana kindly tried to emphasize that she just needed privacy to deal with this for a bit, Celeste was stubborn.

“-it’ just feels like a lot emotionally, you know?” She sighed before inhaling shakily and he squeezed her had, his thumb running over her knuckles soothingly.

“Yeah, it is, love.”

“I just don’t know if it’s fair to you that I’m so…flighty.” She frowned and he smiled.

“Love, the last thing you are is flighty.” He assured, “You are so consistent and responsible, and on top of your things. And this is an area of your life which you haven’t really explored or prioritized in a while, you know? So it’s going to take some getting used to, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She mumbled, “You make me so happy. But I’m still terrified of just getting it out there.” She explained.

“I’m scared too.” He confessed, “But I trust you with my heart. I don’t know what life will throw at us at any point, but I do believe that you will always have my best interest at heart. And I promise I too have your best interest at heart.”

“I do and I know you do too.” she confirmed, “I feel the same about you. I’m just afraid to really let myself feel happy about this because I…I just don’t want our time t-to be cut short.”

“Oh my love, c’mere.” He hummed and she nestled herself into his arms. Her back rested against his chest as he kissed the side of her head. “You can’t think like that all the time.” He advised, “Think of all the time we’ll have instead versus the time we won’t have. Better to enjoy everything now, day by day, yeah? Focus on the memories we get to make and how our relationship will grow and keep getting better?”

“You’re right.” She responded. The feeling of his chest rising and falling with his breaths made Diana feel more present. “Thank you for coming over and listening to all this. It can’t be easy to hear it.”

“I’ll always listen to how you feel, Di. Love you.”

“I love you too.” She responded and he kissed her head again. They just sat like that together in the silence for a little bit, “Wanna stay with me?” She asked quietly, she was a bit shy to ask but she didn’t want him to go now that he was here.

“Yeah, baby. I’ll stay with you.” He smiled through his confirmation.

Soon enough they were heading up the stairs and into her bedroom. It was a bit colder in her room with the big glass doors not providing too much insulation, but that was alright with him, if they got cold they could just cuddle up closer. He climbed into the side of the bed opposite she slept on and soon they were facing each other, her face was buried in his neck. Her soft breaths were tickling his skin as he smoothed his hand up and down the curve of her hip. Then Harry felt her lips pucker up right at the base of his jaw and he smiled. She then did it again before sucking gently.

“Is this alright?” She mumbled into his heated skin and he swallowed.

“Yeah, baby.” He barely got out before her soft sucks against the sensitive skin of his neck started to make all of the excitement swirl up in his tummy. His fingers were now holding tight to her as her sucks intensified. She was leaving a mark and that made him run absolutely wild. After a few more seconds she pulled off and kissed up his jaw, pecking right at the corner of his lip.

“Cheeky girl.” He hummed and she smiled.

“I’ve missed you.” She whispered. Diana was still a bit timid to fully initiate sex with him, she was working up to it, hoping he’d ask first.

“Really? It’s only been a few days…” he teased and she grinned.

“I can’t help it.” She shrugged and he chuckled, “You didn’t miss me?” She asked and he hummed playfully, “Be nice to me…” she mumbled which made Harry kiss her forehead.

“Course I did, baby. You’re constantly on my mind if you’re not close by.” He confirmed softly and she nuzzled closer to him, “Mmmm baby, how do I say ‘kiss me’ in Spanish?” He hummed inquisitively and she grinned as she reared back a bit to try and get some sort of a glimpse of him despite the darkness.

“Se dice, ‘bésame’.” She said quietly, her lips nearly skimming his own. Harry grinned and in a quick and smooth movement he had her under him. One of his big, warm hands was holding her face as he dipped down. His lips tickling and skimming against her own from how close they were.

“Bésame.” He whispered. She could practically taste him saying the words and forming them with his lips.

Diana let out a breathy exhale as she arched up while tugging him down to allow their eager mouths to meet. From the get-go the kiss was intense. His hips were pressing against hers, she could feel him steadily growing in his pants as they continued smearing their lips together with the same urgency of two teenagers who could get caught at any second. Her hands were roaming the expanse of his back, feeling up his muscular physique to her heart’s content.

“Get this off.” she muttered as she tugged at his shirt and Harry knelt up and stripped it off his body swiftly. She raised her arms up and he pulled her top off as well. He dipped down and pecked her quickly before sinking lower and sucking one of her nipples between his lips as his hand came up and grabbed her other breast. He kneaded her soft skin in his hands before sucking over that nipple as well. He loved to hear her whimpering beneath him, humping up against his muscular thigh in desperate need of some friction.

“Want me to inside you?” He asked gruffly.

“Yes, baby. Please…” she moaned and he kissed her deeply and rolled off of her to get undressed the rest of the way. He then helped her out and right before he could get his mouth on her she was pulling him up by the hair. “Do that later.” She panted and he grinned before kissing her as she reached down to find his erection and line it up with her entrance.

“Damn baby, so fucking wet f’me.” He panted and he felt his cock basking in the slick warmth between her legs. “Shit…Can I put it in, love?”

“Yeah baby, put it in.” She sighed with urgency.

With her confirmation, Harry snapped his hips up and his thick head pushed into her entrance and she inhaled sharply as her fingernails dug into his bare back. Harry groaned in response and breathed in her shaky exhales as he rolled his hips down against hers. His cock was sliding through her tight walls at the perfect pace. In and out. In and out. Delving in deep and reaching spots that were making her tingle and then moan his name. He gradually started going a bit harder and deeper with each thrust; he loved the sound of their bodies meeting, soft wet sounds that he wanted engraved into his memory forever and ever.

“Shit, you feel so good around my big cock…” he grunted and Diana whimpered and clamped her walls down around him, “You want more, don’t you?” He grinned and she nodded and he took that as his cue to fuck into her harder than before. He was pounding her so deep that her bed frame was creaking beneath them. And soon a rhythmic thumping against the wall in perfect time with his deep grunts joined in the symphony of their gentle and desperate sin. His moans and soft sounds of satisfaction were making Diana’s brain melt to mush. She gasped and her back started arched up when Harry rubbed into her clit, it was all swollen and slippery with a blend of their arousal. He was enjoying watching her eyes roll back and then squeeze shut; he loved watching her lose herself in him. “Fuck baby, you’re right there, aren’t you? Gonna come on my cock?”

“Yeah, Harry…fuck ju-just a little bit faster!” She mewled her request and he picked up the pace and in moments he felt her walls suffocating his cock, creating the most wonderful feeling around him. It felt as though he was being pulled deeper into her and he moaned and even went a little lightheaded as he allowed his hips to move however he needed to get him off. Harry’s desperation for his own orgasm was pushing her over that coveted precipice. And finally, she tipped over the edge. Her entire body was vibrating with ecstasy as the rush of pleasure crashed over her and rolled her in its currents. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, her inhales were shallow, and her moans melodious as the feelings pumped through her veins. She felt her ears ringing as the pleasure reached the top of her head, her body was completely tense as she hung on to the feeling for as long as she could.

“Oh fuck, baby…shit, I’m gonna come!” He groaned. He pounded away into her a couple more times, feeling her writhing beneath his body as his pulsing balls drew up tight, getting ready to unload his hot cum deep inside of her, “Fuck baby, there it is…Fuuuck yes.” He moaned as he pressed deep inside of her as he filled her up with gush after gush of his sperm. She grabbed his face and kissed him deeply as he fell over her. They kissed until they started getting all hot and bothered again.

Their make out session was heated and needy. He didn’t dare pull out of her yet, he wasn’t even going completely soft, so he was tucked into her, keeping them connected until he mumbled that he wanted to go down on her. He kissed all the way down to her swollen and glistening folds and licked at her clit and made her come a couple times with his fingers nestled against her g-spot. He was fucking his load of sperm back into her pussy with them until she was trembling and nearly incoherent, begging him to stop. He kissed back up her body and locked lips with hers, letting her taste the lovely mess they’d made together. They were both sweaty heaps catching their breaths on Diana’s bed. Her fingers were raking through his sweaty, brown curls while he kissed up and down the inside of her fore arm.

“You’re so hot.” She whispered with a grin and his lips twitched up in a smirk.

“Thank you. So are you, baby.” He hummed back.

“You’re too good at what you do, Harry…why are you so good at sex?” She asked and he chuckled.

“I’m only interested in being good at everything I do, not just sex.” He said smugly and she smiled. “But I’m glad you think I’m good at it. Want to be good for you.” He hummed and she smiled as she kissed his damp curls.

“Should we have a shower?”

“Yeah, baby.” He hummed and he told her to go ahead while he stripped the bed and put everything in the washer before he joined her. That had at least given her time to wash her hair. She was able to finish up before him and get some new sheets out. He soon joined her and helped her set up the bed again before they got dressed and cuddled against each other, both of them shivering as they adjusted to the temperature.

“I think we should talk to Celeste tomorrow. You can pick her up from Geri’s and I can make us some early dinner. Or vice versa.” She said and he nodded.

“Yeah, we can do that. Can I bring Misty tomorrow? Don’t want to leave her alone all day.”

“Yeah, fine…as long as she doesn’t come in here, cat hair’s the worst.” She said and he hummed.

“Well you’re in luck, she’s hypoallergenic!”

“They still shed…”

“Minimally, love.” He said and she sighed, “You still scared of her?”

“I always will be.” She admitted and she chuckled and kissed her shoulder. “She can be around though, Celeste loves her.”

“OK, love.”

“So how are we gonna do this, logistically speaking? Maybe Celeste must have plans at least once a month so we can have a couple days during the escape room weekends.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant…” he mused.

“I know, huh? I’ve had lots of time to think about it.” She smiled.

“My parents really loved you and Celeste, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmmm, but now my mom’s even more bummed about the no babies thing.” He said and she giggled, “Said they’d look like little angels…I think she’s right, they’d be real cute.” He hummed and she smiled.

“Yeah, I think so too…” she hummed.

“Do you think you’d ever change your mind?” He asked and she hummed.

“Maybe…but just pregnancy is not something I want to do again. I think it was just such a dark time in my life that like…I feel like it would emotionally make me or break me.” She explained. “I know before I mentioned just not wanting to have a baby again…but it’s more complicated than that. I think…I mean, I have thought about it, if we had kids. I think we’re both mature enough and of sound mind…” she explained and he smiled, “And I know it would be very different this time around in terms of the level of support I’d have. But physically I think I would have a hard time with it, just because of before. I think my body would react badly to a pregnancy, like I just feel it in my gut.” She explained, “And I mean, I feel like I have everything I want and need, so I would hate to put myself and risk and not be there for Celeste. You know?”

“Yeah, of course. And I mean, pregnancy was very emotionally traumatic for you. I get that, love.”

“D-do you see yourself changing your mind about this?” She asked him nervously.

“I could, but only if you really wanted it. I don’t think we would be missing out at all if we don’t have a baby. Besides, if Grace gets pregnant then we’ll have a baby around for quite a while…we could share with them, they’re such going-out types, I’m sure we’d be the default babysitters. And I’m certain a few hours with the baby would be more than enough to keep us set in our decision to not have our own baby.” He shared and she laughed a bit.

“Yeah, that’s true…I just don’t want to make you not have something because of my bad experience, you know?”

“Well thank you for thinking of me, but I assure you, we both make that decision here, but you hold the most weight to it. Honestly, I have what I need with you and Celeste, I don’t need anything else.” He assured her.

“What if we get a dog? A small one though? They can play with Misty.”

“Yeah, I like dogs.” He smiled.

“More than cats?” She asked and he chuckled.

“Admittedly, yes. Cats can be very temperamental, but I got so lucky with Misty, she’s such an easy one.”

“She really is…she’s quite similar to you actually, even tempered, easygoing, energetic, a little clingy…”

“Am I?” He smiled and she giggled and nodded.

“Yeah, but I like it.” She assured him, “It’s nice to have someone around who wants to be around, you know?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He smiled.

“Can I ask you something? We don’t have to talk about if you don’t want, but ummm, what about Rebecca? Like is that something that still bothers you? Or is it fine now?”

“Like the cheating or the baby?” He asked.

“Both, I guess…”

“Well, the cheating I got over. I think if I had been a lot more in love with her it would have been a lot harder to deal with. But like, we were trying really hard to make it work and to be happy, almost forcing it to work, you know? By then I had already…started to be interested in you, I mean, well you know that.” He smiled bashfully and she hummed. “So yeah, I was just more upset that she was feeling the strain and never said anything to me and let it get to that point. I mean, I was trying to make it work, but maybe I should’ve said something first?” He explained and she nodded. “And with the baby…I mean, I’m happy for her. It seems that Eddie brought out a more relaxed side of her, which is good.” Harry said. “It did kind of send me into an existential spiral at first…made me wonder if maybe I just wasn’t good enough for her. Like I personally don’t prefer to have kids, but I thought I was gonna marry her so I was like “sure, if you really want ‘em with me”. But ummm, I just felt a bit inadequate for a minute there.”

“Have you talked since?” Diana asked him.

“Yeah, a couple of times. Mostly to refer some of her clients for evaluations or services, or to be an expert witness…have that coming up soon.”

“Ooh, have to go to court?”

“Yep.” He chuckled. “But yeah, we talk from time to time. We’re on good terms.”

“That’s really good to know. My mom always said that only bad partners are on bad terms with their exes.”

“Oh…I quite like that…” Harry hummed and she smiled into the silence.

“Yeah…do you have any questions for me?” She asked and he sighed.

“Yeah, tons…when I was talking to your brother he said that like, even though all of this was really painful for you to attain, that this was your best outcome. And I guess I’m wondering if you…agree with that?”

“Yeah, I do.” She answered quickly without any hesitation. “I don’t regret anything about my life now, I mean…I do wish my relationship was better with my whole family. But say I listened to my mom and terminated my pregnancy, the judgement would still be there from everyone. Probably even worse as my extended family is still really influenced by Catholicism and they’re very intolerant of abortion or divorce for really any reason. So even if I assumed the position my family wanted me in, I would still be an outsider. But ultimately, I think I am where I need to be. I love the life I have with Celeste. I love teaching, so much. I love getting to make my own choices. I love not having to be around all that pressure; I would surely break.” She chuckled dryly.

“Oh I don’t think you would break, baby. You’re one of the strongest persons I’ve ever met.” He said with certainty, “But I think that eventually you would have to get out. Not because you aren’t strong enough to deal with. Quite the opposite actually. You’d have the strength and courage that it takes to walk away from all of it. I don’t think that life was meant for you, you know?”

“Yeah, definitely not. I am very happy with what I have going on now.” She confirmed and he smiled. “I’m happy with you.”

“Good. I’m happy with you too.” He whispered.

**************

The following morning Diana was a little more on edge. She had woken up before Harry and had a body shower. She had her coffee and then made breakfast, which woke Harry up. He was quick to wash up as well and join her. There was some music playing softly from her phone that had her slightly swaying her hips as she did something over the sink. Harry walked up quietly before hugging around her hips. She froze in surprise before melting into his touch.

“G’morning.” She greeted sweetly as he smushed a big kiss to her temple.

“Morning, baby.” He mumbled. “What can I do to help?” He asked lowly, his voice still raspy from its lack of use over the night.

“Can you dice those peppers up for me?” She said shooting a glance to the cutting board with a red and green pepper already laid out.

“Sure.” He smiled and headed over. She glanced over a few times but stopped when she saw him properly dice the first little bit. “Am I doing something wrong?” He asked her when he caught her final glance.

“Nope. You’ve got it.” She smiled and he chuckled.

“S’this a good size?” He asked and she glanced back over with a grin.

“Yes, chef.” She winked and he chuckled and proceeded with his task. “Do you like the potato skin or nah?” She asked.

“I do.” He responded.

“Perfect!” She exclaimed, “Saves me the trouble of peeling…” she mumbled quietly to herself and he smiled, “Mmmm nope…c'mere.” She mumbled and Harry glanced over and giggled.

“Who? Me?” He asked glancing back in confusion.

“No, sorry.” She giggled, “A potato was rolling away.” She explained and soon came up beside him and set up to chop the potatoes. In moments she was flawlessly dicing up a potato. Harry stopped his own task just to watch how gracefully she worked, swiftly and silently. When she realized he was just staring she cracked a smile and then stopped to glanced up at him. “What?”

“Nothing, keep working.” He hummed.

“Okay…?” She said and he cocked his head to the side.

“M’no, you’re supposed to say “yes, chef” when I tell you to do something.”

“Oh, OK. Ask again.” She played along.

“Keep working, Di.”

“Yes, chef.” She said with a pleasant smile and he chuckled.

“You’re cute.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and he chuckled and then continued his own chopping.

It made them both so happy that this is what every day could look like in the future. This was lovely and peaceful and comforting. It was worth working towards and with this in mind Diana decided to stop being afraid of Celeste. She knew that she was supportive of her and Harry dating now so that made her feel easier about the conversation. After breakfast Harry went home to feed Misty and then get showered and changed. Diana did a similar thing, she tidied around the house before getting some lasagna going because Harry had really liked it last time and Celeste also really loved it. She was just about preheat the oven when Celeste’s call came in and she wiped her hands on her apron before picking up.

“Hi, mamita!” Diana greeted cheerfully.

“Hey, just wondering what time you were planning on coming to get me?” She asked.

“Actually Harry’s gonna go pick you up. He was planning on being there around 3 and he’s gonna come over for dinner, is that good?”

“Oh yeah, perfect! We wanted to go to this new boba place real quick!”

“Yeah, you guys have time. Just get a small size though, I made lasagna for dinner.”

“Yes!” She cheered lowly and Diana chuckled a bit.

“Alright. Be safe. I’ll tell Harry to text you when he’s heading out.”

“Okay thanks, mom. See you later!”

“See ya, love you.”

“Loveyoubye.” She said quickly before hanging up.

Diana finished layering the lasagna just in time for the oven to reach the designated temperature and she got it inside and set the timer on her phone before hurrying up to have a shower and get changed. She was mentally rehearsing how she wanted to share this with Celeste and when. Should they eat and then talk, or talk first and then eat? Or talk while they ate? Diana was getting on some light makeup on her as she considered these things. Time seemed to fly by because the unmistakable whir of their property gate opening pulled her from her thoughts. She quickly finished applying her mascara before hurrying to her closet and picking out what she wanted to wear. After settling on some jeans, a white t-shirt and an oversized baby blue cardigan, she got into her slippers just as the front door was opening.

“Mom, we’re home!” Celeste called loudly and Diana exhaled before heading downstairs. She could hear them sayin how it smelled delicious and how they needed to find a good place to put Misty’s food and water bowl. She was about to reach the last few steps when Misty stopped at the staircase and then peered up at her expectantly.

“Oh please, don’t.” Diana mumbled to herself lowly as Misty put a paw on the bottom step and sniffled at it. She made a move to head down but with a heavier step to try and startle her away. The cat recoiled a bit and then glanced up at her with curios eyes. She was about to ask one of them to come get her when Harry came around from the kitchen and she sighed in relief. “Thank god.” She sighed and he laughed.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Just a few moments.” She said and he hummed. “Can you tell her to move or just grab her.”

“Di, I think you ought to face your fear. Just step down and she’ll get out of the way.”

“You don’t think I tried that already?”

“Come on, love. She’s real sweet.” He assured and she glanced down at the cat now rubbing up against Harry’s legs. Suddenly Celeste walked over and her eyes lit up at the scene before her and then started to laugh.

“Wait, how long have you been there?” She questioned.

“Not long.” Diana sighed at yet another question about her being stuck on the staircase.

“You guys match!” Celeste observed with a smile and then you glanced over at Harry and he chuckled.

“Great minds, kid.” He said to Celeste and she chuckled and nodded in agreement. “So are we having dinner on the staircase or are you gonna come down?” He asked and Celeste smirked at her, awaiting her response to Harry’s question.

“Tell you what, I need to go to the bathroom. When I’m out, you need to be down here by whatever means possible.” Celeste said and Diana rolled her eyes.

“OK, you go do that. Please, take your time.” She insisted and Celeste smirked as she kept on walking to the bathroom and disappearing from their line of sight.

“C’mon love, she’s not going to hurt you. I promise.” Harry appealed to Diana once more.

“I just don’t want her anywhere near my ankles. Just pick her up please. I will even put her head! I just need her away from my ankles.”

“OK, deal.” He said crouching down and easily picking Misty up in one hand by her tummy and then settling her against his side and Diana descended the rest of the steps.

“Do we tell her before or after we eat?” Diana asked as she reached out slowly. She flinched a bit when Misty’s cool, damp nose nudged at her fingertips, sniffing her out a bit.

“I think so because she told me she had the medium sized bubble tea.” Harry chuckled and Diana sighed and then reached up and touched the soft fur in between Misty’s ears and then scratched a bit which made Misty relax into Harry’s hold and she closed her eyes. “She’s purring. She likes it.” He told her and Diana smiled a bit as she started to hear the very soft and low hums herself. “Are you nervous?”

“Of course.” She said quietly as her eyes met Harry’s, he looked calm, the kind of calm she wanted to be right about now, “What the fuuu-?!” She gasped and pulled away startling Misty. She shook her hand and Harry laughed.

“What?”

“She licked me! I was not mentally prepared to feel that texture on my hand.” She said through her laugh and he joined her as well.

“Why are you nervous?” He asked her and she bit her lip.

“I don’t know…”

“You do.” He insists.

“What if…things just…”

“Don’t work out?” He asked and she nodded.

“I don’t want to…open this up and give her hope that we can be a family one day and then something goes wrong and she loses you.”

“Love, I mean this with so much care and love, but this isn’t about Celeste. Pain and disappointment are a sad reality of life, you know that.” He said and she sighed, “But the wonderful thing about life is also that when you have people to share those hard times with, it makes them more tolerable. I can’t promise that I’ll be perfect or that I won’t hurt and disappoint you every now and again, I’m only human.” He chuckled, “But I can promise to do everything I can to ensure that we have open and honest communication and that we set realistic expectations of what we can do to make each other feel happy and safe with the time we have together.” He said and she nodded, she was petting at Misty’s head again, her eyes focused on her sweet little face as she took in Harry’s words, “Di, look at me.” He insisted and she glanced up at him, “I love you. And I love Celeste. So we’re all gonna be okay.” He said with a soft and sincere smile.

“I love you too.” She whispered with a smile. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

“Of course, always.” He responded and then they headed off to the kitchen. Misty was now exploring about and Harry was opening a bottle of wine when Celeste walked back in.

“Did she touch the cat?” Celeste asked Harry and Diana whipped around quickly.

“I did.” Diana confirmed with a small smile.

“Dang it…” she mumbled as she hopped up onto one of the stools under the kitchen island and Harry chuckled.

“Di, do you want a glass?”

“Please.” She responded.

“Mamita, do you want anything before we eat?”

“No, I’ll wait. I didn’t get the small boba.” She confessed.

“So I heard.” She smiled at her briefly and Celeste glanced to Harry.

“Traitor.” She said with a small smile.

“She’s not mad is she?” Harry asked as he poured Diana her glass of wine.

“Fair.” She mumbled as she watched Diana just looking at Harry, waiting for him to finish up. Once he handed over her glass Diana grabbed it and brought it to her lips before starting to drink it down. Harry was serving himself so he didn’t see, but this was surprising to Celeste and her eyes widened as she finished the glass and then set it down. “Ummm, mom are you alright?” She asked her and Diana glanced up at her looking slightly embarrassed at being caught by her young daughter as she guzzled down some alcohol. At this Harry glanced over to her too and she started to feel nervous again.

“I am, but ummm, I do need to talk to you about something.” She said and Celeste nodded, “It’s a more or less a serious conversation which I am feeling a little nervous about,” she admitted, “so ummm, that’s why I did that. Sorry, if that worried you.”

“Well, seems like I should be worried.” Celeste said, her demeanor visibly more tense as the uncertainty of the topic at hand settled in.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Diana said and then glanced to Harry for some help and he was currently having some of his wine as well. His own nerves getting the best of him. Celeste looked between the two of them waiting for more information.

“Ummm…okay…” she said as she looked between them some more.

“Do you want more wine?” He asked her.

“Please.” Diana hummed and Harry came over to the island and grabbed her glass and served her some more and she glanced down at it and exhaled shakily, she was struggling to breathe in again until she felt Harry’s warmth closer than before and she glanced to her side to see him giving her a small reassuring smile as he nodded. She then inhaled and turned back to Celeste.

“You’re freaking me out.” Celeste said with concern and Diana groaned softly.

“I’m sorry, I’m just bad at this and I’m a bit nervous.” She confessed, “But ummm, I know that you’ve been ummm… interested a little more in my love life as of late.” Diana started, “And ummm, I just wanted to tell you that…well ummm….” She said as she glanced up at Harry who just nodded, “We’re ummm…Harry and I-” as soon as she heard this her mouth widened in a surprised smile and her eyes widened.

“You’re gonna date? You two?” She interrupted and Diana glanced back at Harry who was smiling at her already before looking back to Celeste and they nodded.

“I-is that alright?” Harry asked and she grinned. And grabbed her phone and started typing something in quickly and moment’s later Handel’s Hallelujah chorus came through the speakers on her phone as she sang along goofily, “Fi-na-llyyyyy!” She groaned dramatically after a few seconds and Diana and Harry laughed at her theatrics.

“Alright, alright the serious part of the conversation still needs to happen.” Harry said and she paused the song and nodded, but she was beaming, anxiously waiting for the next part. “So ummm, as you know, this is something new for your mum, and well you too.” Harry started, “And I know it can be…exciting,” he said and she nodded, “but ummm, for y-your mum it’s also quite nerve racking. So we’ve decided on having a few boundaries about what we want to share w-with you for the time being.” He said and she looked to Diana for more explanation on this.

“Mamita, I just need you t-to be a little patient with me now.” Diana said, “Like, over the last few weeks we’ve been trying t-to build up to telling you, but you were a little too…pushy with the topic and it kept making mer nervous and postpone the conversation with you and I guess we just need privacy to settle into this before we are more comfortable being together openly w-with you.”

“So I’m too…nosy?” She asked and Diana frowned, “And if I stop you guys will keep dating?” She added, her lips curled up a bit and Diana sighed.

“Y-yes.” She admitted with a tinge of hesitation and Celeste let out a laugh.

“Okay! I can mind my business!” She said and Diana and Harry chuckled, “As a matter of fact,” she said as she hopped off the stool, “I don’t even care. I don’t at all. I’m just a selfish teenager who worries about her friends and stupid problems.” She said as she backed away from the kitchen. And they laughed and called her back so that they could actually finish up and she leaned on the counter now wearing the biggest smile, “OK, go on.” She insisted.

“Well, I know you don’t care or whatever,” she started with a small smirk and Celeste giggled, “but I just want you t-to be comfortable. I mean, neither of us is super big on PDA, but I mean, we might hold hands sometimes or even kiss quickly or something like that,” Diana blushed, “and like, while you might be happy about this, it can also be a little weird. So if you ever do, just let me know.” She said and Celeste nodded.

“Okay. Thanks.” She said. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Ummm, let’s hear it.” Diana decided.

“When did this start?!” She asked.

“Like when did we start to like each other or when did we first go on a date?” Harry asked.

“Both? I-if that’s allowed.” She added.

“Well, I started liking your mum since you two first came t-to the practice.” He admitted and Celeste’s jaw dropped in shock at this. “Yeah, I know…” Harry chuckled. “I don’t know, I just thought she was so beautiful and sweet and she was just stuck in my head.” He said and then she glanced to Diana awaiting her response.

“Oh, me.” Diana chuckled a bit nervously, “Ummm…w-we ran into each other one night after our classes and that girl from your class was following you?” She said to Harry and he nodded.

“You had a stalker?” Celeste asked and Harry chuckled and turned to her quickly.

“No. She just had a crush on me at the start of the semester and was trying really hard to have more time with me.” He explained. “Either way, you noticed I was looking rather uncomfortable so you approached us-”

“Yeah, I pretended to be his girlfriend that was running late.” Diana said, “And that was the girl that approached us at Cafe Flores, remember?” She asked Celeste and she nodded.

“Oh…”

“Yeah, so that’s when I realized I liked him.” Diana said and Harry’s brows furrowed suddenly.

“That conversation didn’t end well if I recall correctly.” He said with a frown.

“Yeah, it did not.” Diana chuckled, “But I felt so crumby after you said that we should just keep it as professional as possible that it hit me then that I…had a crush on you.” She confessed.

“It can’t be anything else? A better moment where I wasn’t a prick to you?”

“I can’t choose when my feelings happened! That’s when I confirmed that I liked you.” She giggled and he hummed.

“Fine.” He hummed and she smiled and then turned to Celeste.

“And I asked Harry out on a date during the summer but ummm, things were going well with you in therapy and you were saying that you wanted to keep him around as your therapist for as long as possible and well, we can’t do that while he was working with you so we decided not to continue with that -er us then. But that was technically the first date…”

“You were not going to be together because of me?” She asked with a small frown.

“Yeah, but just because ethically it’s frowned upon t-to have what is called a dual relationship with a client and their family or friends. So if someone else in my field were to find out that I was dating a client’s parent I could get my licenses revoked and it would be quite bad for all of us. And well, also you had expressed some hesitation with your mum dating before to me in session, and well, you didn’t react well when you thought we were dating that one time, so I think we both just felt that…not being together was the best thing to do for all of us.” He explained.

“Oh…now I feel bad.” She pouted a bit.

“No mamita, don’t feel bad. It really was our bad. I mean, those kinds of rules are there for a reason. And I think that you’ve even experienced some of that with Harry in terms of wanting him around for more things in your life. Its quite a fine line to walk but everything is working out now and ummm, w-we want to give it a real shot now that we can without risking his entire career.” She said and Celeste smiled a bit.

“Okay, well I am fully on board with this.” She said and Diana chuckled.

“Don’t we know…” she mumbled and Celeste grinned.

“Well, at the end of the day I just want you to be happy too.” Celeste said to Diana, “And well, I trust Harry and I know he’ll take good care of you and be nice and supportive and all the stuff you’ve told me you wanted if you ever dated anyone so…yeah.” She smiled and Diana smiled and then glanced up to Harry who just pulled her into his side and she relaxed in his hold and hugged him back as he planted a quick kiss on the top of her head.

“So cute.” Celeste hummed and Diana laughed as she felt her face warming as she blushed.

Their dinner went well, Celeste monopolized the conversation and only talked about what she had going on and then what she did with Geri at their sleep over. It was nice though, to be able to look over at him and catch him staring without worrying about Celeste catching them. If she wanted to, she could actually reach for his hand and hold it if she wanted to. She was tempted to, but she didn’t want Celeste to make a huge fuss about it. But then she also wanted to show Celeste that she could be warm and affectionate in a way she had not seen before. And well, she also wanted to show Harry that she was putting in some effort to get over her fears of letting her walls down.

Well, she had basically let every wall down but there was just a little bit of resistance in her still. That fear that she couldn’t shake completely was constantly swimming around in her head. And then he smiled wide and said something to Celeste, something she didn’t even hear quite honestly, and that annoying little remainder of fear just melted away. And there was no hesitation as she slid her hand across the table and grazed his pinky and he just glanced over and smiled for a second before turning his hand over as he continued chatting with Celeste. Diana felt so relieved when his fingers clasped over hers and then she turned her attention back to the conversation. She could see Celeste smiling wide but she made no commentary and just kept telling her story. After dessert they played a quick round of UNO, which Diana won both rounds much to Celeste and Harry’s annoyance. But soon Celeste was heading up to have a shower and get her things ready for school the next morning. Harry had just gotten Misty into her little travel kennel when Diana came down the stairs with a little pot of concealer for him.

“Here you go. That should fix that.” She said eyeballing the far too orange canceler splotch covering a love bite on his neck.

“Thanks.” He chuckled. “You feeling good?”

“Yeah. So happy.”

“Me too.” He smiled and grabbed her face in his hands and she tiptoed to let their lips meet in a soft kiss. They smiled against each other lips and pecked once more.

“I love you so much, Harry.” She whispered between them and he kissed her again quickly.

“I love you too.” He smiled, “It’s gonna be so good.”

“I know.” She smiled.

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