#like i kid you not when i say i had the biggest grin on my face when he got clapped by kanjaku like rip bozo getcho ass on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avis-writeshq · 7 months

Text

05 — enchanted

summary: “please don’t be in love with someone else”/“please don’t have somebody waiting on you.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn, no use of (Y/N) warnings: alcohol (reader gets drunk lmfao), jealousy, slight miscommunication, austin (aka: bartender girl from s4), special mention to special people wc: 4.9k a/n: everyone say thank you @astrophileous for beta-reading MWAH ilyvm zara <33 SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Although you haven’t been a part of the BAU for more than one year, it didn’t stop you from maintaining the connections that you had in all your years of working there. Sure, the scheduling times could be better, but that didn’t stop the team from spending their rare day off to spend time with you. After all, the adjustment of seeing you every day to once in a blue moon was a difficult one to make.

O’Keefe’s has been the main victim of the team’s shenanigans, its doors open for the seven members of law enforcement, all eager to get their hands on some well earned rest and relaxation. Drinks are passed around the booth and you can’t help but laugh as you watch Derek get his ‘groove thang on’ with a few girls in the bar. Today is one of the rare occasions when the team didn’t have a case, an even rarer day when the team didn’t have to take on any new or incoming cases.

“How’s life treating you?” Emily asks cheerfully, sipping at her strawberry daiquiri. You gather that tonight is one of those nights.

You smile, sipping at your own beverage of choice. “Good! Way less stressful than working at the BAU, that’s for sure. And the hours are good, too.”

JJ snorts from beside you. “Yeah, well, can’t say I’m not jealous. How’re the kids?”

“I can’t say much because of confidentiality and all that, but they’re doing well. A lot better, thank goodness but it just goes to show the aftermath of the things that you guys deal with. I mean, I still think about all the victims we’ve helped and it sucks that we can’t do anything to help them further.” You finish your tangent with a long sip of your drink before leaning back against the booth. “Anyway, how are you guys?”

Penelope comes shuffling past carrying a series of cocktails, her absolutely monstrous platform heels not aiding her in her slightly tipsy task. “Do not even get me started on work. No work! None! We’re having a fun day. Ergo, no work talk.”

You laugh in response, moving to the side to allow her room to sit in the booth. “No, Penny, you’re right. No work talk.”

The drinks are dispersed and your gaze shifts to where Spencer is standing, laughing awkwardly as he tries to follow along to Derek’s dancing and socialising. He looks incredibly out of place in his brown argyle sweater vest, navy tie and freshly pressed slacks, and he pulls at the collar of his shirt.

“Nah, Spencer could definitely be a ladies’ man if he plays his cards right. And I mean that literally,” Emily says, bringing you out of your daydream.

Your head snaps in her direction, trying to calm your facial features and microexpressions. Regardless of your attempts, after a year of not practising, you don’t do as well as you hope. “What?”

JJ grins at you, her eyes lighting up knowingly. “We’re just talking about who’s the biggest hotshot in the BAU.”

“Wouldn’t that be David?” You ask meekly, your finger swirling along the edge of your glass. You had met David Rossi on occasion, once by accident when you were having a night out with the girls and the other during a proper introduction two weeks later. “Didn’t he have, like, five wives?”

“I had three thank you very much,” Rossi intervenes swiftly, holding his glass of whisky on ice.

“Sorry, my bad,” you respond jokingly, snickering as he shakes his head and stalks over to where Hotch is sitting and drinking his rum.

Penelope lets out a loud laugh. “I think we’re forgetting the obvious: our very own Chocolate Thunder.”

“Well, fine,” Emily drawls, waving a hand dismissively, “but Spencer has that innocent vibe to him, y’know? The kind of guy women go crazy over.”

JJ clicks her fingers in remembrance. “Didn’t a bunch of prostitutes try to pick him up in that one case?”

“What?” You ask again, albeit a little shrilly as you try to dismiss the surprise in your tone.

“He didn’t take them,” Emily says quickly in an attempt to ease your discomfort. “But he did pick up a girl a few months ago. Austin?”

Penelope nods at that, putting down her cup. “Oooh, yes! I remember her. He showed me a picture. She’s pretty.”

“I mean, he did pick up Lila too.” JJ reminds the team, shooting you a sly smile. “You remember her, don’t you?”

You force out a laugh and bite the inside of your cheek in the process. “Yeah. Who’s Austin?”

“I think I still have a picture!” Penelope says, brandishing her phone from her coat pocket. She types something in before sliding it in your direction. “Pretty, right?”

Austin is certainly pretty, even in the uncoordinated selfie Penelope shows you of her and Spencer. He’s slightly out of frame, his lips set into a sweet smile while Austin practically glows. Her brilliant green eyes flash in the camera and her dark hair frames her face perfectly. She and Spencer are close in the photo, with him holding the phone clumsily and she has a hand on his arm.

“Uh huh,” you murmur distractedly, averting your gaze from the photo as an ugly feeling creeps into your chest. “Really pretty.”

Emily looks at you curiously. “You didn’t know about her?”

You shrug in response, the smile on your face insincere. “There are a lot of things I don’t know about Spencer.”

The group exchange a couple glances at your tell-tale body language, watching as you scoot past Penelope and out of the booth, making your way to the bar. You’re all too grateful for a reprieve from the teasing as you order another drink and take a seat, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Your mind goes through all the interactions you’ve had with Spencer over the years. Were you really that foolish to think that he would feel that way for you? Maybe you were reading too much into it, you try to reason, running your fingers through your once styled hair. Maybe, in some stupid and twisted way, all of Spencer’s interactions were platonic.

You scoff inwardly to yourself. Right. Because picking someone up at two o’clock in the morning is entirely platonic. Sleeping in the same bed as someone because of nightmares is totally normal between friends. In any case, you could have sworn that he–

“Trouble in paradise?”

An unfamiliar voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin, and you turn to the man who takes a seat beside you. “Uh… something like that.”

The man hums, a smile on his handsome features. His dark brown hair is fluffy and, in its own charming little way, suits him. He reminds you a lot of Spencer, with the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles along with the timbre of his voice. He’s also very different to Spencer, especially with his sweater that has a bright orange pumpkin on it, paired with a matching orange scarf. A pair of red tinted sunglasses hang on the neckline of his sweater, and you doubt that it would do much good to block the sun.

“I’m Matthias,” he says good naturedly, beaming. “I’m with my sister, Laura,” he explains, gesturing to a lady sporting dyed auburn coloured hair, and she waves with a matching smile.

You introduce yourself, pointing to the booth. “My friends are over there.”

Matthias nods, undeterred by your company on the other side of the bar. “Let me buy you a drink.”

***

After what felt like hours of dancing (it was really only fifteen minutes), Spencer and Derek make their way to rejoin the group. The feeling of sweat matting his skin is one of many reasons as to why Spencer hates dancing. That, and the fact that there were far too many people on the dancefloor. What’s worse is the fact that he’s sure that none of them have ever heard of the word ‘deodorant’. He cringes at the thought of all the germs that could be festering on his skin as he sits at the booth, his eyes shifting to wear your bag lays haphazardly on the red cushions.

“Where is she?” He asks instantly, turning to Emily and placing your bag so that it’s in a safer and less hazardous position.

She hums, pointing in the bar’s direction. “Getting a drink. She’s just cooling off.”

“Cooling off?” Spencer echoes, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean she’s ‘cooling off’?”

Penelope offers an apologetic smile, fiddling with the buttons on her coat. “We… might have told her about Austin?”

“You what?” Spencer can barely believe his ears as he looks at the group incredulously. “Why would you do that?”

“We didn’t mean anything bad by it,” JJ says hastily. “We didn’t think she’d react like that.”

“React like what?” Spencer’s voice is strangely stern, his eyes narrowing as he turns to the rest of the team. “I don’t like Austin. She’s nice but I don’t like her.”

Derek’s brows lift in surprise and confusion. “Did you go out with her after the case?”

Spencer’s ears burn in embarrassment and he turns to his friend in offence. “I asked her for help. I don’t like Austin like that. I needed advice.”

“Advice,” Emily repeats, turning in the direction of the bar. “You mean about…?”

Spencer doesn’t stay long enough to head the rest of Emily’s sentence or to answer it, making his way over to you are. Part of him wishes that he stayed put, especially when he sees what you’re doing. In an instant, his nose is scrunched up in distaste as he spies the random stranger chatting you up. His eyes lock with yours and he relishes in the way they light up as you wave him over.

“Hi,” he breathes, standing beside you.

“Hi!” You gush, beaming at him. “Saw you on the dancefloor.”

“You’ll never see it again,” he says honestly, stealing a sip of your drink. It tastes like vodka and the strawberry lipgloss you use (he only know what it tastes like because of its very on the nose packaging: a giant strawberry. He wishes he knew for other reasons).

You laugh, bright and loud, before you gasp excitedly. “Oh, Spencer, this is Matthias! He’s been keeping me company.” Then, you lean closer to him, your voice a very exaggerated whisper as if the person you’re talking about isn’t in the seat next to you as you tell Spencer, “he’s a director.”

Matthias waves off the statement, chuckling along. “Nothing famous though.”

“He’s a liar,” you tell Spencer enthusiastically. “Did you know he went to New York University? Crazy, right? Like, the school of arts or something. Oh! And he’s also from Vegas! You two are so alike.”

Spencer nods half-heartedly as he tells you, “you know, I went to MIT and CalTech.”

“Well I know that, silly!” You say with a drunken laugh, poking at his cheek. You turn to Matthias with a proud grin before reaching for a shot. “Spencer’s a genius. He’s a super smart genius.”

“That’s what ‘genius’ means, angel,” Spencer reminds gently, prying the little cup away from you. “No more. You’re drunk and we don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Your face falls and your lips curl into a frown. “But Spencer I’m thirsty!”

“You have water in your bag,” he prompts, squeezing your shoulder and helping you off the barstool, not paying this Matthias person any mind. “Okay? Let’s go back to the others.”

You nod eagerly, stumbling a little as you wave goodbye. “Bye, Matthias!”

“Uh huh,” Spencer dismisses, leading you back to the table by the small of your back. He leans a little closer to murmur in your ear, “why did you leave the others?”

You shrug dismissively, leaning into his side. “Doesn’t matter.”

“No, angel, it does,” he says carefully, “tell me?”

You huff in your own clumsy drunken way. “You should ask Austin. Or go pick someone else up. Emily says you’re turning into a ‘ladies’ man’.”

Spencer resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course. “I don’t like Austin,” he tells you in earnest, holding you close to his side as you stumble back to the booth. “I mean it, angel.”

“Bet you call everyone angel,” you grumble under your breath. “Bet you let everyone call you ‘Walter’ too.”

“No,” Spencer says immediately, a hand on your waist. “I only call you that. Besides, why would I let someone call me by my middle name if it isn’t you?”

You huff again, slumping in the booth as Penelope shuffles inward to give you more room. Your arms cross over your chest in annoyance and frustration and you turn away from Spencer’s direction. He doesn’t need to be a profiler to know that you’re pissed off at him. Somewhere in your hazy drunk mind, you’ve made it out as him being the bad guy.

Spencer shoots the other girls a pointed glare, gesturing at you as if to say ‘This is your fault’ because, in reality, it is. If they didn’t mention Austin, you wouldn’t be mad at him. If they didn’t mention Austin, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself drunk with some random guy who went to New York University. Spencer mocks Matthias in his head. Stupid Matthias and his stupidly good hair. Spencer runs a hand through his own growing locks, grimacing when he realises that it reaches his shoulders now. Maybe he should get a haircut later.

“Angel,” Spencer tries again, kneeling down next to your chair. “Let’s get you home, alright? Please don’t be mad at me?”

You mutter something incoherent, not bothering to look in his direction.

“I’m not in love with Austin,” he tells you, his tone a mix of firmness and gentleness. “Really, I’m not. We’re just friends, angel, I promise.”

“Liar,” you mutter under your breath as you get out of the booth. JJ guiltily passes you your bag and you take it out of her hands as Spencer grips your arm with one hand, the other on the small of your back.

“Not a lie,” Spencer says, walking you to his car. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. Not after Lila.”

“Lie-la,” you say bitterly as you get into the passenger seat. “Stupid actress.”

He laughs at that, getting behind the wheel. “Yeah, angel. Stupid actress.”

“You kissed her in a pool,” you continue as you fumble drunkenly with the buckle of the seatbelt. “You don’t kiss me in the pool.”

Spencer’s cheeks burn at your words as he puts your seatbelt on, his fingers grazing yours. “It never came up. Besides, I hate pools, you know that.”

“Germ-y,” you respond knowingly, a silly giddy smile on your face. “I know you the best.”

“Exactly,” he hums as starts the car, his words flowing smoothly as he considers how drunk you are. There’s no way you’d remember this, right? “Why would I find another girl when I have you who knows me best?”

Your cheeks glow with pride at his words and you laugh. “Exactly.”

***

It’s late. Far too late and you toss and turn in bed. Your eyes are heavy but your brain won’t shut up, swirling with the memories of the previous night. You’re not really sure what happened after you got to the bar, only remembering snippets of the night. The entire time was a blur: you remember getting upset at the girls (or rather, at the information they were feeding you), meeting someone– Mason? Matthew? You can’t even remember– and then downing three shots. It’s awfully stupid of you, yes but then somehow you got home safe and sound with a note on your kitchen counter from Spencer.

You felt a little silly upon the finding of the note. Of course Spencer would take you home; it’s not like the girls were particularly sober by the time you wanted to leave. Regardless, reading the note made you feel incredibly stupid, more stupid than usual, and you wanted nothing more than to bury yourself six feet underground.

‘Hi angel,’ it read in Spencer’s messy scrawl with chaotic lettering and swirly g’s. ‘You’re probably really hungover right now so there’s a Tylenol on the counter and a sandwich in the fridge. Please drink water; I’m sure you’re also severely dehydrated from the alcohol. I know you’re upset at me but please just forget about what the others said about Austin. I don’t like her like that. Be safe and call me when you wake up.’

The note was fine, nothing out of the ordinary, just Spencer being his usual ridiculously lovely self. You didn’t mind that he took care of you, either. It’s more-so the fact that you genuinely could barely remember what you said that him. You’re betting on it being something exceedingly dumb (you’re making a habit of it, much to your own chagrin), especially considering how much you had to drink that night. Maybe you should start abstaining from drinking from now on, especially if Spencer was in the vicinity.

The note is now pinned securely to your cork board, a pretty lavender thumb tack holding it in place. Your gaze drifts to it for a moment then to your clock and you groan into your pillow. This is dumb. Sleep is dumb. Your clock blinks with the numbers ‘02:01’ in red mocking letters and you resist the urge to scream. After blindly searching for your phone, you step out of bed while rubbing your eyes.

The lingering question keeps you up as you pace back and forth beside you bed. If Spencer doesn’t like Austin, who does he like? It can’t be Lila. You would have known if they kept in contact. Then again, you had no idea who Austin was so who knows what secrets Spencer is keeping? What if there was another girl? What if your entire friendship with Spencer was exactly that– friendship. You slap the palm of your hand to your forehead. Were you really that stupid?

It’s in that moment when your phone begins to ring. The tune plays through the room and you know it all too well; the Doctor Who theme song that you spent a whopping two dollars and thirty-seven cents on to add it as the custom ringtone for Spencer.

“Hello…?” You answer quietly, your voice choking. “Walter?”

“Angel,” he murmurs, and you can hear shuffling in the background. “Why are you still awake?”

You hum, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I could ask you the same question.”

He laughs quietly on the other side of the line, scratchy from the lack of sleep. “Can I come over?”

“Always.”

He hangs up after that and you press the pads of your fingers into the corners of your eyes again. You’re exhausted, far too exhausted to be hosting guests, but this is Spencer. How can you ever say no to him? So, instead of sulking around and spending far too long doing nothing, you fashion yourself a cup of tea and flick the lights on. The book you were reading is thrown haphazardly onto the cushions of your couch but you can’t bring yourself to pick it up.

The jiggling of the door handle brings you out of your little mood, and Spencer lets himself in with the key you gave him, locking it securely and taking his shoes off to reveal his sock choice of the day: one bright green and the other in fuchsia with buttercup yellow spots. He’s wearing a crinkly white t-shirt that hangs over his gangly frame and grey sweatpants. For something so basic, he looks absolutely criminal in it. You pinch yourself as punishment for thinking such a thing.

“Hey,” he breathes, sitting next to you. He runs his fingers through his hair, frowning a little. “Do you think I should get it cut?”

You laugh, almost spilling your tea. “You came to my apartment at two in the morning to ask what I think about your hair?”

“Yes,” he agrees before laughing, “no! Of course not. I just thought of it.”

A hum leaves your lips as you curl a strand of his hair around your finger. “I like long hair on you. Besides, you’d look good in any hair cut.”

Spencer preens at your words, enjoying the feel of your touch in his hair. “You’re a liar. I know what I looked like four years ago. Don’t lie.”

“I’m not!” You insist, beaming at him as you poke his cheek. “You were really cute back then. Like a baby.”

He flushes again at both the compliment and the contact, his mind committing the way you say ‘baby’ to memory. He thinks it again and again; baby, baby, baby.

“I was not a baby,” He tells you, half in jest. “I’m older than you!”

“By a year,” you quip, the sleep deprivation making your head go loopy. “Barely. Doesn’t matter, you’re still baby.”

Spencer scoffs lightly, poking your side. “If I’m a baby, what does that make you? A foetus? A zygote?”

You let out a quiet scream in protest, whacking him over the head with a throw pillow. “Ew, Spencer what the hell?”

He snickers in response, shielding his face with his forearm. “If I’m a baby and you’re younger than me, you must be at an earlier stage of development. So? Which is it, are you a foetus or a zygote? C’mon, angel, you passed eighth grade biology.”

“You’re an ass,” you chastise jokingly, rolling your eyes as you look up at him. Sometime amidst the commotion he must have gotten closer to you. Your noses are almost touching and your breath hitches in your throat.

He smiles sweetly, his own cheeks warm and flushed with embarrassment as he maintains eye contact. “I thought I was ‘baby’.”

What the hell? Is this really Spencer Reid? Silly, awkward, nerdy little Spencer Reid? This must be a very convincing body suit and an even more convincing voice altering machine because this is not Spencer Reid. You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks and ears so quickly that it’s enough to make you go dizzy. Maybe you’re a lot more sleep deprived than you thought.

“Are you drunk?” You croak out meekly as he cages you in, his forearms on either side of your head as he leans you against the couch.

He laughs– he has the actual audacity to laugh– and he shakes his head. “No, angel, I’m not drunk. You know I don’t drink enough to actually get drunk. Besides, I drove here.”

“You drove here,” you repeat, a little dazed from how close he is. “It’s two in the morning.”

“Almost three now but yes,” Spencer agrees, smiling.

“You hate driving,” you remind him, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Especially at night.”

He hums in agreement. “I do. But I wanted to see you.”

“Oh.”

You kick yourself internally. ‘Oh’? Who the hell says ‘Oh’? This is it. Your life is over. Maybe you should move to another state. Change your name, shave your head, and get a different degree because you’re almost certain that it’s the end of the line for you.

Spencer lets out a soft chuckle. “I missed you.”

“You saw me two days ago?” You say it like a question and you suddenly feel yourself sweating. It definitely got hotter in here.

He murmurs your name, his fingers grazing the skin of your jaw gently. “I’m so glad I met you.”

“I ran into you four years ago and almost gave myself a concussion,” you say, averting your gaze as you tried to calm yourself down.

“I’m so glad I met you,” he repeats softly, his nose brushing against your cheek. “Look at me, angel.”

You wet your bottom lip nervously as you look at him, his hazel eyes a little greener in the low light of your apartment. His legs are on either side of your hips and he brushes his thumb against your chin.

“I want to kiss you,” Spencer says lowly, albeit a little breathlessly, and you can hear hoarseness in his words. “Can I?”

You’re dead. You’re either dead or asleep, that is the only explanation you have for this entire situation. You’re either dead and in heaven or asleep and dreaming. It is that plain and simple.

“What?” You croak out, your nails digging into the skin of your thighs.

“I know you wanted to do it in a pool but I’m pretty sure your apartment gym is closed now, angel,” Spencer says, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. “Can I kiss you?”

The only thing you can manage to do is nod, your eyes flickering to his lips for a split second, watching as the corners of his mouth tug upwards. Your brain barely has any time to comprehend the words he said (since when did you say that you wanted to kiss him in the pool?) because in a rush of confidence, Spencer cups your face and presses his lips to yours in a tantalisingly slow kiss. His eyes are closed and his hands are eerily soft, the gentleness in which he holds you reminiscent of one holding porcelain.

He pulls away after a moment, his cheeks burning and a smile on his face. You can’t even breathe as you just stare at him, lips parted in surprise. What do you even say to that?

“Thank you?” You manage to stutter out, heat creeping up your neck.

He laughs again, breathless and beautiful, as he kisses the side of your face. “You’re welcome.”

Spencer brushes an eyelash from your cheek, beaming at you as he does. “It’s late,” he tells you, getting up from the couch and freeing your limbs. “You should get some rest.”

“Uh huh,” you respond, your head spinning. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he says back, trying to hold in a laugh. “I’m free next Friday. Do you want to go out?”

“Go out?” You echo, “we always go out.”

“I know.” He smiles at you again as he makes his way to the door. “I meant– you know. We can go out.”

A beat passes and your head is awfully slow, whether from the kiss or from the sleep deprivation, you’re not entirely sure. “We can go out.”

“Great.” He pauses, taking a step towards you before kissing your cheek. “I’ll text you.”

“You’ll–” you gape at him again as he opens your door to leave. “You hate texting.”

He nods, slipping on his shoes. “I also hate driving at night. Your point?”

“Right,” you murmur, more to yourself than anything. “Text me when you get home?”

“Of course I will, angel,” he promises, “get some rest.”

Get some rest? How the hell are you supposed to get some rest after all that? With one last wave, Spencer leaves your apartment, leaving you hoping that this wasn’t just some thing. Maybe this was the very first page of your story– a very embarrassing start to your story. There is one thing for certain though: Spencer is not in love with someone else.

***

It’s a Tuesday when Penelope calls you. You had just finished up with a client when your phone begins to ring.

“Penny!” You gush, unable to stop the smile from stretching onto your face. “I am stupid, I said ‘thank you’? Who the hell says thank you after someone kisses you?”

“Who kissed you?” Penelope asks, and if you weren’t so caught up in your own tangent you would have noticed that she sounded tearful.

“Spencer did!” You exclaim, slapping a hand to your forehead. “He’s sitting there and he looks amazing and he smells really good and I am stupid.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Penelope says quickly, and you can imagine her waving her fluffy pen around. “He kissed you and you said thank you?”

“Yes.”

“Well that was very polite of you,” she says, trying to sound happy before her voice cracks.

You frown immediately, taking a seat in the wheelie chair in your office. “Penny? Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“It’s about Spencer,” she says woefully, sniffling. “He wanted me to tell you something. It’s not looking good, honey, but– but he wanted me to give you a message.”

“Penny–” You stop short when you hear Spencer’s voice. It’s a recording from his phone, and you can only really tell because of the crackling audio on the other side of the line.

“Is it on?” Spencer asks before clearing his throat. He sounds breathless, his words breaking off at some parts and you know that it’s not from the bad audio quality. “Hey, angel, it’s me, Spenc– Walter. It’s your Walter. If you’re getting this then something happened and I just wanted you to know that– that I love you. I didn’t get the chance to tell you that before but I do. I love you and I wish it didn’t turn out like this but I am– I am so glad that we had that moment.”

Through the recording you can hear a shuffle, like the sound of a sliding door being opened, along with a quiet, “Prep the victim for transfer,” before the recording cuts out, leaving you with Penelope on the line.

She calls your name quietly, choking on her words. “Are you okay?”

You hang up.

← previous part || next part →

full masterlist

reblogs are always appreciated!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds x reader fluff #criminal minds x reader angst #matthew gray gubler x reader fluff #matthew gray gubler x reader angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler angst

1K notes · View notes

ellecdc · 2 months

Note

hiya elle!!!

could i request a first-time dad sirius fic of siri introducing his baby to the other marauders?? 🩷🩷

so. stinkin'. cute.

dad!Sirius Black x mom!reader who are introducing their first child to the Marauders

You felt as though you were experiencing the world through glasses that weren’t your exact prescription, riding out the last of the adrenaline coursing through your veins after the past 24 hours. You were floating in this liminal space between discomfort and euphoria, pain and joy, worry and love.

You thought perhaps though the love was beginning to win out.

You were sitting in your hospital bed as you watched Sirius gently bounce the tiny bundle he was holding up to his face.

“Isn’t her nose just perfect, sweets?” He asked you (for quite possibly the 13th time in the four hours your daughter has been earth side) without moving his gaze from said nose.

“So perfect.” You agreed readily, smiling softly at the picture and hoping that this image in your memory didn’t fade as you became more lucid.

There was a gentle knock before a mop of wild hair and a pair of spectacles shoved its head in through the door to your room.

James gasped quietly yet no less dramatically as he looked between you and Sirius.

“Can we come in?” He whispered, adorning quite possibly one of the biggest smiles you’d even seen on him (which was really saying something, considering he has been notoriously sunny since the day you met him), before Lily shoved her head in just below his.

“I promise we’ll behave.” She added.

Sirius chuckled and nodded his head in invitation. “You were never the one we were worried about, Red.”

In a way that only happened throughout the history of humanity at the precise moment family members or loved ones entered the room of a newborn and their parents; Lily, James, and Peter all tiptoed in, for some reason even hunching low as if their lack of height would somehow make them any quieter.

James gasped again as he and Lily peered over Sirius’ shoulder to get a glimpse of the newborn in his hands; all three friends sharing identical beaming grins. “She’s beautiful, Sirius.” Lily whispered in awe.

“Bloody perfect, is what she is.” James agreed, leaning around Sirius to look at you. “Way to go, mum. Brilliant job you’ve done.”

“Thank you, Jamie.” You replied, turning a little shy as Sirius turned his lovesick gaze to you, which was very embarrassing considering he literally just watched you push his fucking child out of your crotch.

“What’s her name?” Peter asked, standing in front of Sirius like an eager kid waiting for their turn to pick a toy from the treasure box.

“This is Aurora Jubilee.” Sirius said proudly, turning his daughter slightly so that Pete could get a look.

“Bloody perfect.” James reiterated when you heard a quiet commotion outside your hospital room.

“I said I was sorry, Reg. The baby can’t tell time yet, she won’t know you’re late!”

You then heard something that sounded an awful lot like someone being whacked with a bouquet of flowers.

“Idiot.” Regulus hissed. “I’m trying to make a good impression; just because you don’t worry whether or not Harry finds his uncle to be untimely doesn’t mean I want to set the same precedent for my niece. Tu as tellement de chance tu es une bonne baise.”

The door pushed open slightly further as Remus and Regulus quietly stepped in, furious blushes adorning their faces when they realised that you all had paused in order to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“How nice of you to finally join us, little brother. Your niece has been asking for you.” Sirius deadpanned.

Regulus scoffed and Remus grimaced as Regulus came rushing over to your side and pressed a kiss to your hair. “How are you doing, mama?” He asked, pulling back to consider your form as Remus pressed his own kiss to your head.

“I’m good, uncle Reggie, thank you.” You smiled at him.

“Good.” He said with a curt nod. “I worry, leaving you in the care of my brother - you deserve better.”

“Sod off.” Sirius muttered, causing Lily to gently swat at his back.

“Watch your mouth, Sirius. There are little ears now.”

“Yeah, watch your fucking mouth, Sirius.” Remus volleyed.

“Christ, our kids are doomed.” Lily complained as she moved to sit on the end of your bed.

“Okay, I can’t take it anymore; let me hold her.” James demanded, making grabby hands to Sirius.

“Okay but Prongs, I swear to god if you fumble this like you fum-”

“I didn’t fumble that pass! You threw it too hard!” James quickly negated with a petulant whine.

Moving in slow motion, Sirius relinquished his hold on his new favourite person into James’ capable and seasoned dad hands before moving to perch himself beside you on your bed.

“‘Lo, Aurora. I’m uncle Prongs; your favourite. I’m going to buy you so many stuffies, your dad and mum will need to buy a second place just to have somewhere to put them all. And Haz is going to be the best big cousin you could ever ask for; he’s already trying to convince me to buy you a bike so you guys can ride together. And-”

“Okay.” Lily interrupted. “My turn.”

James harrumphed but acquiesced and passed her over to his wife.

“She has her mummy’s nose.” Lily cooed, causing Sirius to gently pull you into his side and pressing his nose into your hair.

“That’s what I’ve been saying.” He said, causing you to snort.

“No. You just kept saying it was perfect.” You argued.

“Exactly.”

“Let’s just hope you have your mummy’s smarts, too.” Lily concluded, passing Aurora to Pete.

“Oi!”

“Hi, ‘Ro.” Peter said, smiling down at the infant as she started to stir slightly. “No, no. Please don’t wake up. Oh god, oh god, James take her - take her! I’m not ready for this!”

“Oh hand her ‘ere.” Remus mumbled, moving to take the tiny bundle from his mate. “Wormy smells, doesn’t he, little love?” He cooed at the baby who, much to Peter’s chagrin, stopped fussing immediately.

“Oh you and I are going to get into so much trouble, darlin’. I’m going to teach you so many swear words, and I’ll help you prank your dad any time you want - you just give me a ring and I’ll be there.”

Any contention between Remus and Regulus from their arrival melted quickly as Regulus leaned into Remus’ side to gaze at the newest Black family member.

“You wanna hold her, love?” Remus asked him quietly, causing Regulus to shake his head quickly.

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

Sirius scoffed. “Please, we let Peter hold her.”

“Sod off!”

“What if I drop her?” Regulus continued.

“Just don’t drop her. God, you’re a weird bloke.” Sirius muttered under his breath, though Regulus seemed to catch it as he levelled his brother with a glare.

His face softened considerably as Remus shifted his hold in order to transfer Aurora into Regulus’ careful arms.

He spent a few moments just looking down at his new niece, a silent conversation seeming to pass between them as Remus reached around him to stroke the downy soft skin on the side of her face.

“Okay, I’ve only known Aurora for three minutes; but if anything ever happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.” He said simply.

Peter let out a nervous laugh before he realised Regulus was quite serious.

“Good.” Sirius said with a nod. “That’s why we picked you to be her godfather.”

Regulus’ head whipped up at that as he seemed to strengthen his hold on the baby in his arms.

“You what?”

“If anything ever happened to us, we know you’d do everything in your power to give her a good life - the best life.” You explained.

“I- but…really?”

“Yeah.” Sirius said emphatically. “Besides, you inherited all of mother and father’s dirty money anyway, might as well use it to spoil our girl.”

Though there were clearly tears forming in Regulus’ eyes, he turned his attention back to his goddaughter with a derisive scoff.

“I was planning on doing that anyway, Sirius. Je suis vraiment désolé de te dire ça, Aurora, mais ton père est un idiot.”

Remus snorted. “Already teaching her important life lessons.”

“Get bent, Moony.” Sirius sneered.

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #sirius black #self insert #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #dad!Sirius #kid fic #mom!reader #Sirius Black as a father #first time dad #ellecdc fics

642 notes · View notes

mariasont · 1 month

Text

Office Sleepover - A.H

a/n: this is honestly kind of shit but whatever

might make this a mini series?

part two here!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: reader kind of flashes hotch, really inconsistent with how the gov works i'm sure, there's also definitely not an oven in the break room but in my world there is <3

wc: 3.8k

Hotch's voice reached you, but the words tangled into an indecipherable code as they hit the air. You nodded, a reflex, but it was as if your brain had short-circuited. You could make out fragments--a hit on you, stay at office, 24/7 protection, you can take the back office. But no matter how many times he said it, it seemed to ricochet through your head, making less sense each time. You were on a hit list? A hit list?

It all felt very made up, like a script ripped straight out of a tv show. Risk was a part of the BAU job description, but a hit list? For a fleeting moment, a chuckle hovered at the brink of your lips, but it was swiftly swallowed by a wave of dread that rose in its place. You blinked a couple times, probably too many in a vain attempt to clear the fog and bring Hotch's face into focus.

"But what about all my stuff? And you want me to camp out here in the office? For how long, Hotch? I mean, I'm all for overtime, but this is... this is a lot, and I--," you babble, your speech racing ahead of your thoughts. "And my baking? That's my biggest stress reliever. Not to mention my DIY projects--I can't just abandon my half-finished throw pillowcases. Plus, how many pairs of shoes is too many for an office closet?"

Your pout formed a delicate bow, and though he said nothing, his eyes softened. Hotch could feel the frown marring his features. He might never say it, but seeing you like this struck a chord, making it a little hard to breathe.

Circling the desk, he planted himself in front of you, his hand settling on your shoulder. "Hey, take a deep breath," he urges softly. "Let's take it one step at a time. List out what you need, someone will bring it here. Your baking supplies, DIY projects, even your shoes."

True to Hotch's word, as usual, you found every piece of your life carefully compartmentalized into cardboard boxes, lined up carefully in the office that now doubled as your temporary room. There was an odd sense of dislocation in finishing your workday and needing only to count about thirty steps before arriving at your room.

You swung the door closed, the sound sealing the room as a deep sigh wrapped around you and you started sifting through the boxes. The pullout couch serving as your bed was less than appealing, its worn fabric making you grimace internally. Nevertheless, you diverted your attention, busying yourself with the organizing of your extensive collection of things. Spencer would definitely shake his head at the sight of the vast amount of clothes you had brought.

The irony wasn't lost on you; surrounded by the office's ceaseless motion, yet you felt more alone than in the stillness of your own apartment. God, this was pathetic, and you needed a drink, but you had a nagging suspicion the office handbook would have a thing or two to say about that. You spent a solid two hours attempting to infuse the sterile space with a touch of home, it wasn't perfect (at all), but it would have to do.

Rossi knocks on the doorframe, poking his head in with a grin. "I didn't realize we were redecorating the bureau in shades of bubblegum," he teases. "How you doing, kid?"

"Actually, it's blush," you correct with a mock-serious tone, meeting his smile with one of your own. "I'm fine," you insist, but Rossi's knowing look prompts a quick add-on. "I am, really, I mean I've always said I wanted my own office."

"An office with a view of the bullpen, no less. You're living the dream," he says, his eyes scanning the room. "Need any help with anything? Or anything else from your place? Maybe your favorite mug to make feel more like home?"

"Don't worry, I'm already one step ahead of you," you assure him, revealing a drawer brimming with mugs.

Rossi lets out a low appreciative whistle. "Why am I not surprised?" he chuckles with a broad grin. "Well, I'm heading out for the night. Remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. And Hotch is still here, buried in paperwork as usual."

He left, and you were alone--a cue to try and cling to some normalcy of your routine; you drew the blinds and slipped into the comfort of your pajamas. You hauled yourself off to the office bathroom, reluctantly at that, and proceeded to attend to your skincare, brush your hair, and polish your smile with a thorough teeth brushing.

Eyeing the hallway warily, you made a silent exit from the bathroom, the carpet softening your footfalls. But in your rush to avoid prying eyes, you crashed into a solid wall of a figure, the force sending you tumbling backward. You hit the floor with a muted thud, your ass hitting the ground, legs splayed inelegantly in front of you. Your eyes rose to meet the firm, penetrating look of Hotch. Of fucking course.

There was a pause as Hotch's eyes drank in the sight of your flushed complexion and the wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to capture the light just so. He felt like his heart could stop then and there. And he knew it was wrong, but he certainly liked the sight of you sprawled below him. He blinked, breaking the trance, and offered a concerned, "Are you okay?" His hands were outstretched, ready to pull you back to your feet.

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade as you held onto Hotch's hand, the feeling unexpectedly comforting, rough in yours but nice. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm all good, sorry about that," you managed to say, the words squeaking out a tad too eagerly.

You stood up, and his closeness was all-consuming. You were suddenly intensely aware of every breath, every throb of your heart, and your mind went blank; the usual stream of thoughts replaced by a buzzing silence.

His eyes held yours for a fraction longer than necessary before he stepped back, creating a respectful distance. The hallway's warmth seemed to dissipate with the space, leaving you with an unexpected stab of disappointment.

"Rossi said you'd be here. Anything I can do to help?"

You rationalized the offer as a gesture of your goodwill, but a small part, well a big part, of you knew just wanted to be close to him, to be alone with him maybe--in the office, after hours, in his office. This was weird, I mean, you'd always admired your Unit Chief, but this was different. You chalked it up to the day's unfortunate series of events--you were tired, and lonely, and you needed desperately to snap out of it before you made a fool out of yourself.

"No, you need to rest. It's been a long day, and you've been through enough." He paused, his gaze assessing you. "How are you holding up?"

"At this rate, I'll need a sign that says 'I'm fine,' to stop the check-ins." Although you silently doubted that would deter him. You gesture to the surroundings. "And this? It's like a sleepover at work. Just hoping this so-called hit man doesn't show up."

Hotch internally recoiled at your words, leaving him with the sensation of a cold grasp tightening around his heart. He cleared his throat, the joke falling flat in the gravity of his concern. "I'll be here for a while longer. If you need anything, don't hesitate to come find me," he managed a nod before retreating to his office.

A while longer? You knew Hotch was a workaholic, but it now occurred to you that he must never sleep. Quickly, you gathered your scattered belongings, and made your way to your office.

The pull-out couch seemed even less inviting than you remembered, if that was possible. You perched on the edge, the metallic frame cold through the thin mattress. As you lay down, the couch seemed to swallow you in its awkward angles. Perfect. Tossing and turning, you struggled to find a comfortable spot. Eventually, exhaustion won over discomfort, the rhythm of your own breathing lulling you into a fitful sleep.

Your eyes flickered open at some point during the night and the blinds drifted apart, as if by an unseen hand, and through the gap, your eyes fell on a hooded figure, the face not visible in the dim light. Your muscles locked in terror, an icy fear clawing its way up your spine as you tried to move--to reach for your gun, to call out for Hotch, to do anything. But as if imprisoned by an invisible force, you could only watch, confined to the bed, as the figure crept towards the door.

A scream tore from your throat, a raw and piercing sound that ricocheted off the walls and echoed through your eyes. This was it, you thought.

Then, in an instant, you were awake and disoriented, your breaths coming in short bursts, and your body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Your fingers clenched the sheets, the fabric twisting in your grasp as you fought to decipher what was reality. Your eyes snapped to the blinds, half-expecting to see the figure from your dream materialize, but the emptiness beyond them slowly calmed your racing heart.

With a throat dry as parchment and your pulse still echoing in your ears, you drifted from your room towards the break room. As you ambled past Hotch's office, you paused. The door, slightly ajar, felt like an invitation. Despite knowing better, a foggy curiosity nudged your feet forward. With a shaky breath, you eased the door open wider and slipped inside.

His office felt different at night--it was quieter, more personal, and you felt like an intruder on Hotch's private world. You took a moment, absorbing the sight of his meticulously organized desk, the case files that were always present.

It was tempting to try to piece together the man from his workspace, but you held back. As you turned to leave, a familiar scent stopped you--the subtle hint of his cologne hanging in the air. It wrapped around you, easing the tension that had sunk into your limbs. Almost without thinking, you found yourself sinking into the couch.

The room, infused with his distinct scent, seemed to have your blinking growing heavier, more intentional. You nestled deeper into the cushions; the fabric familiar beneath your fingers, lulling you into a sense of security. Just five minutes, you thought.

Hotch's steps were slow, his eyelids having a hard time staying open as he made his way through the bullpen. He carried his briefcase, the leather handle worn and conformed to his hand. He contemplated a detour to your office, a silent check-in to ease his mind, but he dismissed the idea--you were probably still asleep, and he'd definitely look like a creep. Reaching his own office, he noticed the door ajar, a sliver of morning light spilling through the gap.

He stepped into the room, and time seemed to stand still as his gaze landed on the couch. There you were, fast asleep on his couch. Your hand lay gently under your cheek, a makeshift pillow softening the hard angles beneath, while your nose gave the faintest twitches. Your lips were parted as if mid-whisper and strands of your hair were splayed in a disarrayed crown around your head. He knew that in no way could that have been comfortable. It hurt his back just looking at you, but still you looked so peaceful.

He moved with quiet steps, heat creeping up his neck as he placed his things on the desk. Turning back to you, he couldn't help but notice the gentle dishevelment of your pajamas, buttons undone in innocent disarray, the fabric parting to reveal the gentle slope of your breasts. He felt an odd mix of emotions--a gentle chiding for finding you in such state, and the guilt of finding the sight so undeniably sweet.

A quiet cough escaped him, more out of habit than necessity, as he approached a cabinet where blankets were neatly stacked--a nod to many nights spent just as you were. He draped one over you, his movements slow and unhurried, shielding you from potential curious eyes before finding his normal place behind the wooden desk.

He tried to focus--really, he did. I mean, he had a towering pile of paperwork and responsibilities that demanded his attention. But despite his best efforts, his gaze involuntarily drifted to you time and time again. It was as if he needed visual confirmation of your steady breathing to assure himself that you were okay. He thought about you here all night, alone, and he found his knuckles whiten against the grip of his pen. He knew you had security on you at all times, but somehow, he found no comfort in that.

Hotch's eyes flicked to the clock--7:30 am. You still had at least another half an hour before you technically needed to start work, although truth be told he would let you sleep as long as your body allowed. There was no way in hell he was going to disturb you when you looked so content.

As Hotch worked, the morning light grew stronger, casting a warm glow over his desk. It was nearly 9 am when the sound of shifting fabric eventually roused you. You were waking up, blinking away the remnants of sleep, confusion etched on your face. As your eyes caught sight of the clock and Hotch, mortification set it.

"Oh my gosh, Hotch. I am so sorry," you blurted out, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "You could've woken me up--I... I should've set an alarm. And I shouldn't even be here, but I can explain, sort of..."

In a flurry of motion, you leapt from the couch, only to feel a sudden tug at your chest as a button from your top snagged on a stray thread. The fabric pulled open, revealing way more than what was appropriate for your boss to see. Your face turned a shade redder as you scrambled to cover up. Hotch, momentarily sidetracked by the sight of the cleavage of your tits once again, quickly refocused and interrupted your flustered explanations.

"It's fine," he assured. "Given everything that's happened, you needed the rest." He nodded towards the couch. "You're always welcome to sleep here if you need to--though I can't promise it'll be any more comfortable next time."

"Oh no, it was super comfortable, really," you insist, despite the awkwardness clinging to your words. Hotch gives you a look that says he's not entirely convinced. "Okay, well, I'm going to uh... go," you mumble, stopping short at the door with a sudden concern.

Hotch understands immediately and offers, "They're all in the briefing room--won't be out for a while."

With a relieved nod, and minimal eye contact, you dash out, hoping to reach your office unnoticed. But because the world just hated you these past days, just as you're rushing by, Morgan's hands come to your shoulders to stop you.

"Easy there, mama," he teases, a smile on his face. But as he gets a good look at your attire, his grin grows wider. "What in the world...?" he starts, laughter in his voice. He glances from you to Hotch's office door, then back again. "Hold up, hold up--you didn't... with Hotch? Are you?"

"What? No, Morgan, absolutely not! Why would you even--oh my god," you gasp, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. God, I mean, the day hasn't even started, and you needed it to end. Realizing your voice has risen in your flustered state, you quickly lower it to a harsh whisper, your eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard. "Why would you even suggest that?"

"Um, maybe because you're making a grand exit from the boss man's office in your PJs? Just a wild guess."

"No, Morgan, it's not what you think," you insist, but your attention snaps to the sound of the team's voices nearing the door. "I don't have time for this," you mutter, darting back to your office.

In a whirlwind, you shed the pajamas, slip into your work attire, and hastily run a brush through your hair. Good enough.

You threw yourself into work, the stack of papers becoming a welcome distraction, a rare sense of relief rather than the familiar dread. It was a considerable effort to divert your mind from the distractions--Hotch, the hit man, and Morgan's incessant teasing. Not that anyone would believe that you and Hotch were together; he was the very definition of sophisticated, handsome, and successful, and you were just, well, you.

Not that there was anything wrong with you. You liked yourself just fine; you laughed too loudly at jokes, talked to your houseplants as if they were your old friends, and you had an odd fascination with weather patterns. These things made you wholly you. You just knew you couldn't be more different from Hotch.

With a bit of luck and purposeful avoiding, your day passed smoothly, sparing you any unnecessary run-ins with Hotch. Everyone had gone home for the day which is why you stood in the break room attempting some baking recipe from Pinterest.

The slippers on your feet padded against the carpet as you hummed around the room. With swift motions, you ushered the coffee cake batter into the oven, then turned to tackle the mess you had created on the countertops. Cleaning as you go wasn't your usual style, but office break room didn't seem like the place for your usual creative sprawl.

Your phone had buzzed incessantly with Penelope's calls--her offers the keep you company is why you loved her, but you weren't going to subject her to that, no matter how many times she said she didn't mind.

Hotch's office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of his pen against paper as he finally closed his files. He moved into bullpen and as he passed the breakroom, the soft hum of the light and faint sound of movement drew him in. There you were, engrossed in tidying up, with your hair casually gathered above your shoulders and wearing your sweats, Hotch found him instinctively pausing to watch.

He knew he shouldn't bother you, knew he was likely the last person you'd want to see, yet he found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on you, the warmth in his chest intensifying with each fleeting second.

The moment you turned and saw a figure, a sharp gasp cut through the silence, and the icing in your grasp became a sweet projectile that flew across the room. Relief washed over you as you realized who it was.

"Jeez, Hotch, give me a heart attack why don't you," you said, half-laughing as your heart rate settled. "Especially when there's a hitman who might beat you to the punch."

Hotch parted his lips to speak, but you were quicker, a stream of thoughts tumbling out before you could stop them. "I thought everyone was gone. You weren't at your desk earlier--oh wait, you had that meeting with the DOJ, right? Did they have anything about the people who marked me?"

In your haste, you closed the gap between you, and only then did you spot the icing on his cheek. "Oh, sorry about that, Hotch," you said with an apologetic grin, reaching out as if to wipe it away.

As your palm made contact with his skin, a shared realization of the intimacy of the gesture washed over you. Time seemed to slow as your thumb traced a lingering path through the icing, your whisper barely audible, "There."

The word seemed to hang in the air as you froze, the proximity suddenly overwhelming, your breath caught in your throat. Hotch's backward step was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. You cleared your throat awkwardly, cheeks warming with a flush. "Um, did you need something?"

Hotch shook his head slightly, "No, just wanted to check on you before I head out."

You gave a thumbs up, mustering a smile. "Well, consider me checked."

Hotch nodded, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight," he said, to which you echoed in response as you watched him leave.

Alone now, you slumped against the counter, your hand pressed to your face. Consider me checked? God, someone needed to tape your mouth shut.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfic #hotch #hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #ssa hotchner #agent hotchner #cm #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #Spotify

871 notes · View notes

leqonsluv3r · 3 months

Text

good girl

re4!leon kennedy x fem!reader

— a oneshot

warnings: MDNI, 18+, inappropriate use of handcuffs, unprotected sex, use of nicknames (babygirl, baby, etc), praise, porn with literally no plot, mentions of raccoon city & leon being a lil rookie, reader has hair that can be tugged on but no other physical appearance mentioned, use of female pronouns (she/her), established relationship.

“she smirks at the handcuffs, “never been arrested before…” she says with a small chuckle as she swings the handcuffs around her finger, looking up at him. “not those kinds of handcuffs, babygirl.” he says with a small grin, looking over her face as her smirk stalls a little bit. letting herself realize what he really meant, her mouth becoming dry. she was deep in it now.”

—or reader finds leon’s handcuffs and he shows her what he uses them for

when she met leon, it was hard for her to believe that he even looked her direction. not because she wasn’t his type, he loved any kind of woman, no matter how she looked.

she was just not use to someone who looked the way he did to talk to her, or even ask for her phone number. it was bizarre in her eyes, like hell had frozen over in the best way possible.

she knew he was different from other guys right from the get go, he opened the car door for her and payed for her meals. he held respect for her in the way that most men hadn’t.

and it made her like him much more then she anticipated.

they continued to go on dates, hang out at each others places and then eventually they had sex.

she had never had a guy…who felt and gave like leon did. he would gladly go down on her, no questions asked. he ate her out like she was a meal, making her back arch and her hands fist at his hair.

no man had ever made her feel like that before.

he shared everything with her, what he did before and why he was here in the city. he even shared some of his embarrassing stories from when he was a kid. they talked about everything.

and as time grew on and they became more serious, leon asked her if she wanted to move in together. get a place and be in one spot, which made her happy, but she had never lived with a man that wasn’t family before and it did make her a bit nervous at first.

leon reassured her that everything would be fine though, he knew how nervous she was. he could read her like a book after all the months they had been together.

and she said yes, which led to her packing all of her one bedroom apartment into boxes. stuffing clothes into garbage bags and dismantling furniture. she was stressed but it was definitely worth it at the end of the day.

this led her to now, currently moving all her boxes into their new place together. she was sweaty, exhausted and stressed but she had the biggest smile on her face and nothing could take that away.

she was finally in her own place with leon, nothing could be better.

“settling in? i just moved all my shit in two days ago, haven’t unpacked a single thing.” he says with a wipe of his forehead with his bicep as he walks into their practically empty kitchen.

she chuckled, “yeah, all my stuff is scattered around. i have to go pick up the furniture that i’m keeping tomorrow. didn’t have enough energy to get to it today.” she says as she sips on her plastic water bottle that she brought with her, moving some hair out of her eyes.

he smiles at her and comes over, wrapping his arms around her waist. “it’s all worth it though right?” she hears him mumble into her ear, pressing a small kiss on the shell of it. she bites her lip, trying to fight back a stupid lovesick grin, “yeah, definitely.” she says softly as she looks over her shoulder and up at him.

he was worth it, the stress of packing and unpacking was definitely worth it. being with him was worth it, all of it was. she wouldn’t trade it for anything, no matter how stressed and strung out she was right now. nothing could beat the look on her face.

leon could see that.

“do you wanna try unpacking the bedroom first? i already built the bed.” he says with a small smirk into her hair, holding onto her waist with hands that could easily crush her, but didn’t. she fights another grin, “mhm…” she hums.

they unpack the bedroom, what they can of it. she becomes exhausted after about 10 boxes. moving was clearly not her favorite task, that was apparent.

if anything she despised it, but she’d do anything for him. even if it meant packing her entire apartment into boxes just for him. she’d do just about anything for him. even this.

he sighs and looks at her, “you feeling okay?” he asks softly as he rubs his hand over her shoulder. she sighs and nods, rubbing at her eyes. “i’m just tired. today was a lot. i just…moving has never been fun.” she says with a weak smile as she looks up at him next to her.

he nods, chuckling, his hand still squeezing and rubbing at her shoulders. “but you like it right?” he asks with a teasing raise of his brow. she grins; lovesick just by his eyes on hers. “absolutely.” she responds without hesitation.

“good, thought i had something to worry about baby.” he says with a small laugh, moving to grab the last box of the bed. it was his, the messy scrawl of his handwriting on the side was barely legible. she laughs softly and sits on the side of the bed, watching him tear open the cardboard box with ease.

she looks at the decor of their room, the black iron headboard and large queen bed that had dark green sheets and a duvet to match, their photos and books, little knickknacks from life spread together throughout the room. she really was home with him.

it sunk into her exhausted bones that moment as she looks over at him, watching him unpack stuff from the box. “what’s in there?” she asks with a small looking from the box label to him.

he sighs and lifts out a picture frame, showing her a picture of him. he was definitely younger in the picture, maybe 21. he was in his police uniform, smiling widely at the camera. she smiles softly, “aww! look at you!” she says with a teasing smile as she moves over on the bed and towards the box.

she knew he was a cop at one point in his life. something unfortunate happened that made him disband from that and go to his current job. he never really spoke of it, saying that he couldn’t technically. she didn’t mind, she knew he was only following orders and doing what he needed to.

he rolls his eyes, “i wasn’t expecting that much of a reaction.” he says with a small blow of his lips. handing the framed picture towards her. she takes it and traces her fingers over the frame. “how could i not? you looked so cute in your little uniform!” she says with a small giggle as she showcases the photo in his direction again.

he rolls his eyes again, “shut up.” he chuckles lowly as he continues to pull stuff out of the box. loving his girlfriends teasing on the matter, he would agree that he was cute back in his day. back when he was a bright eyed cop, eager to protect and serve. but he had no idea what was in store from him that day in ‘98 when he went to raccoon city.

he pulls out his uniform, the spare one that they gave him to commemorate his service to the force when he first graduated the academy, holding it in his hands. a myriad of emotions crosses over his eyes and she doesn’t miss it.

“you miss it?” she says with a small curious expression over her face. her tone gentle as she analyzes the mixed look over his face. he sighs, “i only did it for one day, but i miss the idea of it.” he says as he glances over at her on the bed.

she nods in understanding, “i’m sorry, honey. i really am. i know what it’s like…in a sense to have something that you wanted ripped away from you.” she says softly as hers brows dip in sympathy. “i don’t know what happened,” she pauses and takes a small breath. “but whatever did happen that day. doesn’t mean that you aren’t still that person inside.” she whispers softly.

he smiles at her, so grateful that even if she doesn’t fully understand. she’s willing to try for him. he knows that, knows how caring, loving and understanding she is. she’s been that way since they started dating.

he dug into the box again, pulling out some handcuffs and holding them up. “i forgot all about these.” he says with a small smirk as he looks over at her. she tilts her head and her eyebrows furrow, “they’re just handcuffs…” she says with a small chuckle.

he shakes his head, “we got two pairs of them. i used one for my uniform and my other pair…these pair of handcuffs i used personally.” he says with a small smirk as he holds them up.

“personally?” she says in confusion, the dots weren’t connecting in her brain and she had no idea what he was even talking about. “i used them on the girls i dated before you.” he says as he holds up the handcuffs, twirling them around his finger with ease.

they were just a normal pair of handcuffs, normal metal ones that looked like anything a police officer would carry. that was until the dots connected and her eyes widened, realization dawning on her when she figured out what he truly meant by using the handcuffs.

her cheeks flushed red, her wide eyes blinking at him from where she sat on the bed. “really? i didn’t know you were into that.” she says and it’s not all shock, it’s curiosity and something else entirely.

he chuckles lowly, he sets the handcuffs on the bed. then moves the half empty moving box off the bed. “i am, i haven’t done it in a long time. haven’t been willing to find someone to try it again with.” he says with a small tilt of his head as he runs his fingers over the clasp of the handcuffs.

she doesn’t know what within her makes her open her mouth and say, “i’d try it with you.” she says softly as she looks at the large pads of his fingers running over the metal surface of them. as if he’s in contemplation, he looks up at her. “really? you’d be handcuffed, wouldn’t be able to touch me and i know how you like to touch me.” he says with a small quirk of his lips.

his eyes gleaming with something predatory and exciting, igniting her bones into flames. her core throbbing as she shifted on the bed under his gaze. she tucks some hair behind her ear. “yeah…” she breathes slowly, “i’d do it.”

he smirks and shakes his head, chuckling. “are you sure? you seriously wanna go down that road, baby?” he says with a grin, still holding the handcuffs in his hands. hands that could swallow her whole and easily break her in half, she feels her core throb again. that familiar feeling resurfaces in her underwear.

she nods slowly, licking her lips. she felt saliva leave her throat. she wasn’t sure, but she wanted to try it. wanted to give him what he wanted. he nods slowly and gestures to her clothes. “strip.” he says with a small demand, not even a question. something she can’t even argue against if she wanted to.

she slid off of the bed under his gaze, as she strips off her clothes one by one until she was completely bare. he feels himself get harder at everything that’s transpiring right in front of his eyes. her naked for him has never failed to make him hard, make him want to devour her whole and take her.

he goes over to the half unpacked box on the floor and gets the keys for the handcuffs, unlocking them and walking back to where she stood on the opposite side of the bed, waiting for him. he licks his lips, unlocking the handcuffs with a small clink.

she feels her arousal pooling between her legs at his gaze, blue deep pools of his irises that are almost dark with lust. he sweeps his eyes over her bare frame in front of him, “turn around, baby.” he says softly and lowly at the same time.

the gruff of his voice making her erupt in goosebumps as she turns around, putting her hands behind her back without him even having to ask. he chuckles lowly, “eager to be handcuffed, very naughty babygirl.” he hums lowly as he clamps the handcuffs around her wrists, locking them and making sure they fit comfortably around her wrists.

she feels his words wash over her, feeling the cold metal clink over her wrists behind her back, the cold feeling making a shiver crawl up her spine. he backs up, licking his lips from behind her, admiring her handcuffed and naked.

she can feel his eyes boring into the skin of her back, making her bite her lip. her core was throbbing for him, wanting him more then anything. the exciting prospect of what was to come seeped through her pussy.

he strips off his shirt and pants, tossing them to the floor by her clothes on the floor. she swallows as she hears each drop of his clothes to the floor behind her, her heartbeat accelerating in her bones as he drops his boxers.

he was just as bare as her now, he takes a couple steps closer and leans over her back, running his fingers over her stomach from behind. “all naked and dripping for me baby, i can practically smell it on you.” he says lowly as his hot breath drifts over her neck.

she swallows and her eyes flutter open and shut, “i’ll tell you what’s going to happen now, okay?” he says softly, his voice was so familiar yet raspy and full of desire for her. she nods slowly as he presses a kiss to her neck, making her bite her lip. if she bit it any harder blood would draw from the anticipation.

“your gonna get on the bed, bend over and i’m going to fuck you until your crying on my cock. sound good?” he says with a small raspy chuckle as she draws his fingers from her stomach up to her breast, lightly squeezing it. a small whine escapes from her lips as she nods. he presses another kiss to her neck, he motions for her to do what he says.

she manages to crawl onto the bed, it was more difficult without her hands. he grabs a pillow and puts it under her hips keeping her somewhat comfortable and propped up. her cheek pressed into the new sheets that covered their bed.

she feels the bed dip with his weight as he kneels behind her on the bed, running his large hand over the dip in her ass. his dick was standing at attention now, hard and leaking precum as he grabs it.

she wiggles her ass a little in his direction, “please leon, cmon.” she whines as she tries to get some kind of friction from the pillow underneath her hips. he chuckles lowly, running his hand slowly over his shaft, “patience babygirl.” he says with a small squeeze of her ass, she whimpers softly

he lets go of his cock and runs his fingers into her leaking core, putting two fingers inside of her to stretch her out. he always did this before, just to get her ready for him. no matter how many times they had sex, she still was never prepared for his size.

she moans softly into the duvet cover on their bed, trying to push back against the two fingers stretching her out. “please…” she whines as she tries to pull at the handcuffs, her pussy swallowing his fingers as he stretched her out.

“you’ll get it, like i said, patience baby. i don’t wanna hurt you.” he says in a low tone as he kneads her ass with his free hand. she whimpers and clenches around his fingers, her arousal sucking his fingers into her entrance. he continues to knead her ass and stretch her out, “sucking my fingers in princess, jesus.” he says in a small groan.

she whimpers at his words, trying to chase his fingers again but he pulls them out and she sighs at the loss. he chuckles at her small sigh, “i’m sure you’d rather cum on my cock, right?” he says with a small little smack to her ass cheek he was kneading.

she nods into the duvet her face is half buried in, her wrists aching a little from the handcuffs. he sighed softly, “don’t worry princess, i’ll give it to you. give you anything you want.” he says with a small smirk on his angelic features.

he grabs his cock and runs it through her soaked slit, whimpering trying to get friction against the head of his cock. the tip hitting her clit a couple times, making her bones ache and her core pulse.

“so wet and needy, just needed some dick.” he says in a mocking tone as he lets out a half groan, his hard erection covered in her release. she felt her pussy throb and her hole clench around nothing at his words, “well, here you go baby.” she heard him say before he shoved himself into her soaking entrance.

she moaned loudly, her body automatically reacting. she felt so full of him, her bones in her center accommodating him and his size. she felt her bones in her wrists ache as he kept one of his large hands steady on her ass, letting her get adjusted before he started moving.

“breathe, baby.” he says in a soft but low rasp of his voice from behind her. she nodded and did as she was told, breathing in and out slowly, trying to think about anything else other than the sheer size of how he stretched her out.

“good girl.” he praised when he saw her take some deep breaths. he saw her relax a little as her hips adjusted on the pillow that propped her up. he slowly flexed his hips back and pushed in a little, starting to slowly thrust.

she released small noises into the duvet on their bed, tugging at her wrists on the handcuffs. he eventually started to pick up his pace, a little faster as he grabbed onto her handcuffed wrists behind her back and tugged her up.

she gasped, him still fully sheathed inside of her. her back was now pressed to his chest, her knees shadowing his on the bed. he held one hand on her stomach and another on her breast, kneading slowly as he began thrusting deeper at this new angle.

she moaned loudly and canted her head back, tears welling in her eyes, “leon…” she moaned as she felt her hands form fists behind her back. his hands keeping her steady as he fucked into her from behind, his his snapping against her ass. “good girl…” he groans into her ear, “fuck…so fucking…god—tight…christ.” he manages to get out between moans and groans that escaped his lips.

his touch to her chest and his words, she felt that familiar feeling bubble in her lower belly. “harder…” she whined as she tried to move against her handcuffs on her wrists. he obliged, bending her back over the pillow and putting his hands on her hips, snapping into her with such force that their bed shook.

her eyes went crossed and she felt tears leak out of her eyes, almost drooling on the sheets as moans leaked from her mouth. chants of his name, curses and screams of pleasure. sex with him never disappointed, ever.

“gonna…cum…” she managed to get out in between the cries of pleasure and the sound of his hips against her ass. he just kept pounding into her, like a wild animal. she pulled at the handcuffs on her wrists again, clenching her fists as she felt herself becoming closer and closer to the end.

“cum for me, princess. scream my name.” he says lowly as he keeps snapping his hips, making curses fall from their mouths in a chant. he could feel himself getting closer, his hips starting to stutter but so determined to deliver what she needed.

she felt the blissful end, her eyes fluttering shut and then lined with tears. “leon!” she screamed as she came, releasing all over his cock as she melted into the mattress. the clenching of her around him, her walls sucking him in was enough for him to release a low groan, “princess…”

his end came too, shooting thick ropes of cum into her womb, painting her walls white with him. she could feel him filling her up, feeling so dazed and full. just so satisfied that her body and arms felt like jelly.

he breathed heavily as he reached away on the bed, grabbing the handcuff keys, unlocking the handcuffs and tossing them on the floor by their clothes. she felt her arms collapse down to the mattress.

he pulled out of her, their mixed fluids leaking out of her. he leaned down a ways on the bed and licked the dripping fluids from her entrance, causing her to shiver and her thighs to tremble a little from her intense orgasm.

“you did so good, so fucking good baby. c’mere.” he says softly as he leaned back and moved to the headboard. she weakly raised her body from the kneeling position on the bed, moving her shaking and sweaty body to lay beside him.

he wraps his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her sweaty hairline. his hands rubbing up and down her spine. “so proud of you.” he whispers into her hair. she smiles lazily as she looks up at him from her head on his shoulder.

she blushes from his praise, the tiredness from the day of moving and the sex sweeping over her. “sleep now, we’ll deal with all the other shit tomorrow.” he says calmly, running a hand through her hair and holding her naked body close to his.

and she did, her eyes fluttering shut. his heartbeat against her ear pulling her into sleep. their heartbeats in sync as they held each other, promising not to let go.

taglist: @heartsforvin

an: hope you guys enjoyed, please interact if u did :,) my asks and requests are open in my bio. my taglist and masterlist are linked at the beginning if u wanna interact. i love you all sm <33 kisses, xx

#leon kennedy #leon x reader #re2 leon #leon kennedy smut #re4 remake #leon kennedy au #re2 remake #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #re4 leon #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x y/n

790 notes · View notes

charliedawn · 7 months

Note

Heyyy :) glad your back 🖤🖤🖤 I don’t know if your doing requests or not but if you are could you do, how would the slashers flirt with nurse? (Particularly five since he is like a old man I thought that would be funny) no worries if you can’t, I love your work ❣️❣️❣️

Warning: Highly suggestive.

Bo Sinclair :

"Well…Hello there, sugar pie. Ya lookin’ mighty alone. Mind if I change that fer ya ?"

Captain Smooth and Sailing. Bo knows how to be charming and he’d just waltz in with the biggest grin on his face and lean back before shooting you a smouldering gaze.

He knows what he wants and will go to any means to get it. And I mean any…

Bo *sneaking up on you from behind and wrapping his arms around you before giving you a kiss on the shoulder* "…Good mornin’, sunflower…How ya doin’ ? Good ? That’s great…" *whispers in your ear* "Bet I could make it better fer ya though."

He can be smooth, but also filthy. Depends on the day. One day he’ll be whispering sweet nothings into your ear, the next he’ll be slapping your ass and calling it a day.

Pennywise:

Pennywise doesn’t touch. And doesn’t like being touched. His flirtation will be very limited and subtle. It’ll mostly be grins and cackles and mocking huffs…

Pennywise: "Well…Hello there, beautiful. Do you know that your hair is a mess and you look more like an asylum patient than a nurse today ?"

You *roll your eyes and start walking away* "Good morning to you too, Pennywise."

Him *snickers behind you* "Good morning indeed. If I still had to spook children to get my food, I’d certainly take your morning face…That’d do the trick."

Yeah…That’s Pennywise flirting. He wouldn’t flirt with you face to face…but he’d still do some things from time to time.

For example, you may find breakfast magically appearing on your desk, or a cup of (h/d) next to you when you finally sit and take a break.

Penny :

Penny *hugs you tightly and refuses to let you go*

You : "…Penny. I need to work."

Penny *squeezes you harder*

Yeah…You won’t get any work done. That’s for sure. Penny is stubborn. He will not leave you alone and will keep holding you until he has enough.

That’s his way of flirting.

But…He has another side to him.

He bites. He can use it to show affection. He does it sometimes with his brother and the other slashers, but he’d be extra gentle with you and be careful not to hurt you.

He’d bite your wrist, your neck, your cheek…Just to say that he appreciates you. And even if it’s just to say hello. That’s Penny flirting. He doesn’t use words, but actions.

Vincent :

He takes pictures of you. They were pretty innocent at first. He’d take pictures of you walking around the hospital and taking care of the patients. The staff even used his photographs to advertise the hospital.

But quickly…the photographs became recurrent and more intimate. He’d follow you around and almost beg you to pose for him.

He’d become obsessed and bring you some of his morbid art pieces for you two to simply talk and be close to you.

And you try to deny him attention ?

The man knows how to get what he wants. He’s similar to Bo in that way, but where Bo is demanding ? Vincent is all about begging and whining.

He’d go down on his knees and grab the hem of your shirt to pull you towards him and beg you to let him take photographs of you and keep them. Take some for his…personal use.

Vincent flirting is desperation.

He’d beg you until you give him the time of day.

Michael Myers :

Michael *wordlessly pats his thigh*

The seat is all yours if you want it.

Kidding. Or not.

*cough cough*

Michael likes to cook and he’d fix you meals to cheer you up and listen to you if you need to. He’d be the perfect gentleman and even though he can’t talk, he’d make it obvious that he likes you through other means.

He’d protect you and make sure you are happy.

Unfortunately, because he can’t help bu want to kill you all the time, it’d be very difficult for the both of you to actually go on a date or go more than flirting basis. But, he’d still try to let you know that he likes you sometimes.

Michael *takes your hand and pulls you into a tight hug*

Michael may look or sound unapproachable at first, but it is because he is afraid of giving into hate and just lose control over the little humanity he has left…

Freddy Krueger :

"Yo. Wanna bang ?"

Freddy is NOT subtle. He’s a slimy and sleazy little goblin who loves nothing more than touch, grab, grope and squeeze.

He’d follow you around like your personal horny demon.

"Coooome on ! I know ya wanna see what’s in my pants ! Just say yes, sweetheart ! See how daddy does it !"

Filthy language and sleazy smirks all the way. He’d be whistling after you and tip his fedora at you or lick his lips while looking you up and down.

To make it short: Flirty is his middle name and he’d just make sure to let you know that he is ALWAYS available and ready.

Freddy *smirks and takes your hand before dancing with you* "COME ON ! Move those curves, lovely !" *cackles*

Freddy may look and sound like a scumbag most of the time, but he is capable of being romantic. He only lets special people see it.

Jason :

Jason is shy and will never be confrontational when it comes to flirting.

He maybe waves at you and hugs you sometimes, but not enough for you to understand what he means.

But, he is good with his hands and soon enough, goes to work.

Jason leaves you gifts. On your desk, on your nightstand, or any place he thinks you and only you would find them.

He carves little wooden figurines, mostly of frogs that he leaves around for you to find. And you always do. You then put then on a special shelf in the living room for everyone to see and admire.

It may not have been the initial goal, but he is happy to see you smile. And that is all he needs…

Norman Bates :

"My darling…Would you…Would you do me the honour of going on a special outing with me ? Just the two of us ?"

Norman was an anxious wreck. He had sweaty hands and an nervous smile on his face. He wanted you to say yes. He had been thinking about a way to approach the matter with you for weeks…

You smiled back and when you accepted…he was overjoyed.

Norman is rather old-fashioned. His way of flirting is asking you out and treating you like a princess (or a prince)

He’d be more than happy to compliment you all day long and simply brush his fingers against yours while you stare deeply into each other’s eyes.

Five Hargreeves :

"Tell me, Y/N. Are you alright ?"

You glanced back at him and blinked twice at the child who just asked you that question.

"…Last time I checked. Yes."

You then focused back on your work and tried to forget about it, but then Five sat down on your desk to look at the papers you were signing.

You didn’t think much of it until he rested his hand on the back of your neck and his thumb traced circles there.

You looked up at him, and he stared right back. You knew he was technically older inside but…You still swapped his hand away.

"Okay. What do you want ?"

"You. Me. Drink."

Your eyes widened and you looked around.

"How about you come back to me when you are…say…15 years older ?"

Yeah. He may be older in his mind. But his body is still very much the one of a child so…Wait and see.

Patrick Bateman :

"Y/N. It has come to my attention that we haven’t had sex yet. Care to explain why ?"

That man has the ego of a mansion. He wouldn’t be flirting, he’d be practical.

Who needs feelings ? Who needs flirting ? He knows you find him attractive. And you know he finds you attractive. Why waste time on things like flirting ?

Patrick Bateman is a business man.

He sees a relationship as unnecessary as long as it doesn’t bring him anything.

So, if he starts showing interest in you ?

…

Run.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #slashers #pennywise x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #jason voorhees x reader #five hargreeves x reader #norman bates x reader #patrick bateman x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #slashers au

775 notes · View notes

rafesslxt · 2 months

Text

friends on vacation | mattheo riddle x reader x slytherin squad

mini series pt. 1

summary: you and your friends go on vacation before you start your last year at hogwarts. Let‘s just say it get‘s interesting between you and your best friend Mattheo.

warnings: modern slytherin group, vacation to spain, cursing, making out, touching a little, lap dance, hickeys, kissing pansy as friends in game, english is not my first language

Enzo, Blaise, Draco, Theodore, Mattheo, Pansy and me. We all sat together at my house around a big round table. My parents and I had a big house in New York, living there when the wizard world got a little too much.

It wasn‘t the first time that I had all of my friends over, we were inseparable. Everybody knew. So after a few years I showed them a little of my second world, leaving them no choice but to like it. Just like me, they liked to escape our world sometimes, leaving all the monsters and unicorns behind for some relaxing. Just like now.

"So.. where do we wanna go, huh?" Theodore asked into the round, lightning his cigarette.

"Why don‘t we think about what kind of vacation we want first?" I said, taking my Ipad in front of me and opening my vacation apps. " Please somewhere near the beach. I wanna tan and we‘re around the forest and mountains all the time in Hogwarts." Pansy said, stretching her legs over Draco‘s and Blaise‘s laps who were sitting on my garden couch.

"Yeah I agree, If I see one more forest I‘m gonna die." Blaise joins the conversation with a dramatic sigh at the end.

Mattheo and Draco teased each other at the meantime like little kids, throwing their cherry pits at each other.

"What about Italy? There‘s beach and sun." Enzo asks, sitting on the grass beneath us, playing with my dog. "Nah, I already live there that‘s no vacation for me." Theo answers, shaking his head and blowing out some smoke while speaking.

"I have an idea! Spain is beautiful and it‘s really hot there too, perfect to tan. I was there a few years ago with my parents. And the flight from there back to Hogwarts isn‘t that long. 2-3 hours I think." I suggested and looked around the table, all eyes on me now.

"Where exactly in Spain?" Mattheo asks me, sitting right next to me on a second couch, throwing a pit at Draco again. " Alicante is a great vacation spot. Lots of palms, beach, great fruits and sun. You guys will love it." I smile, already looking for flights for the next days.

"Sounds fine to me." Enzo shrugs, smiling up at me while the rest of our group joins in with "great idea" and some "let‘s do this".

2 days later

" Oh my god its beautiful! " Pansy says, stunned at the apartment I booked for us. "Wow, what a view. You really did a great job y/n." Blaise agrees.

The apartment has indeed a beautiful view, you can see the ocean right in front of us even tho it‘s night, you could see it because of all the lights from the little shops and restaurants along the ocean.

"Soo I booked this apartment with the balcony, 3 bathrooms which should be enough for us and 5 bedrooms. Pansy and Draco will share due obvious reasons." I started looking at them. "Also a kitchen so we can.. i din‘t know, have breakfast or have some snacks if everything is closed at night. And this big fat living room we‘re standing in."

" Blaise is right, you really did a great job at that." Mattheo grins, standing right next to me and looking around the living room.

We all settled in and unpacked our things. Pansy and I marked the biggest bathroom with our makeup and skincare stuff so the boys directly knew its our territory.

"Hey guys Theodore and I are going to a store, getting some groceries." Enzo shouted trough the apartment before walking outside the door with Theo.

"Pansy and me are showering!" I shouted so they‘d know what we‘re up to.

Mattheo and Draco looked at each other, before storming off the couch and sprinting to our bathroom only to realise the door was already locked. "Ugh."

I laughed at them together with Pansy as I shook my head. I took off my makeup as Pansy already got in the shower. "Mattheo is so smitten by you it‘s obvious." She laughs, shampooing her hair.

"You know we‘re just friends, Pansy." I say, cheekly smiling. Mattheo and I are best friends since first grade. All of us got friends real quick. Mattheo and Draco knew each other because the Malfoy‘s raised him for Voldemort. Pansy got a crush on Draco and didn‘t leave his side. Pansy and I had to share a dorm in Hogwarts which made us best friends too really fast. I met Enzo at my first class as he was my partner for the whole year. Blaise met Draco in the common room as they battled for the coolest broom. That‘s how we kind of found our way to each other and I wouldn‘t want to change it for a second.

"Yeah but he looks at you different as he looks at me for example." she answers. "Yeah because you‘re with Draco and he would chop Mattheo‘s dick off!" I laugh before joining her in the shower.

"No y/n, because he likes you a little more than just friends do. And hey I‘m not saying he loves you but all I‘m saying is that there is a little spark between the two of you."

Mattheo and I liked to flirt with each other a lot but we never really did something about it because we‘re just friends. And we just like to flirt for fun. Thats it. I think..

As we were ready we put on some clothes and walked outside the bathroom, our hair still wet from the shower. Pansy sat next to Draco, putting her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. I had to smile at them, they always made me smile no matter what they did. Draco always acted cold towards eveyone around him, besides from his friends of course, we are like family. But he acted really warm around her which made me happy for both of them.

I sat down between Blaise and Mattheo, making myself comfortable laying my legs over Blaise his lap and my head on Mattheo‘s tigh. "Why am I always getting your girls legs?" Blaise complains with a little smile on his face. "Oh shut up you love my legs." I say winking at him which just made him laugh and shaking his head.

A few seconds later I felt a hand in my hair, massaging my scalp which made me purr a little. "Like that?" Mattheo asks, grinning down at me. "You know I do, Matty." I sigh, closing my eyes and enjoying his touch. "Your hair smells really good when it‘s wet. What is it, peach?" he asks me and lowers his head a little bit to my hair. " Oh so my hair only smells good when it‘s wet? But yes, it is peach indeed." Mattheo chuckles at my answer. "No it always smells great. It just smells more intense when it‘s wet."

Suddenly I heard a gagging noice which made me lift my head and see Blaise fake gagging. "Can you two take a room?"

"You‘re just jelous because you‘re alone." Draco snickers from the side, stroking Pansy‘s back. I laugh at his comment before I get a death glare from Blaise.

We all get interrupted by our phone‘s ringing. I take mine out if my pocket just like the rest did and saw a notification from our group chat. Yes, I made them get a phone a year ago but they all only used it between the holidays. Never in Hogwarts. But I did and I also made everyone of them an instagram account a while ago but Theo, he only joined this week.

Theodore: Yo guys we‘re on our way with all the groceries get ready for some drinks! And aye y/n this app you showed me is fuuuull of hot girl why didn‘t you show me sooner dude! *picture attached*

I laugh at his message just like the others do and answer him.

Y/N: I told you but you didn‘t want to join! 😤 I‘m getting the glasses 👀

As i send the message i stand up and walk towards the kitchen to get some glasses and shot glasses. "I‘m gonna help." Mattheo speaks as he stands up from his spot and follows me.

As I grab some glasses from a shelf above me, I feel his presence behind me. "Are you smelling my hair again?" "Yeah it‘s kind of addicting." He admits and kisses the top of my head before he grabs some glasses too and brings them back to the living room and sets them on the table in front of the couch.

I turn on the tv and switched to netflix putting on some random show for some background noises. Just in time Theo and Enzo came trough the door with bags full of alcohol and some food. "Hey guys, just put it on the table, glasses are ready."

"Yo Y/n we got something for you." "What is it?" I wondered as Theo pulled out a big bowl of fruits, handing them over to me with the words "here principessa, you talked the whole fucking flight about the food and especially the fruits here."

"Oh thank you thank you!" I hugged them both tightly and opened the bowl exited to eat some fruits right away. As the first piece of melon hit my tounge I moaned dramatic, sitting back down on the couch. "Ugh I love it so much. Here guys, try some fruits."

They all laughed at my behavior and took some fruits out if the bowl. "Wow these are really good." Blaise nodded, eating a piece of pineapple.

I took out a strawberry and put it to the half into my mouth, slightly sucking on it as I looked over to Mattheo, holding the bowl out to him as he was the only one who didn‘t take some.

He sat down to my left and took the other half of my strawberry, eating it while looking into my eyes. My cheeks flushed a light color of pink and I had to look away which made him smile.

"Come on guys let‘s drink something." Draco says standing up and taking the first bottle, looking towards me. "What‘s that? Jim Bean. There‘s an green apple on it, does it taste like that?"

"Uh- a little bit, it‘s strong alcohol like firewhiskey but with a hint of green apple." i tell him.

"Sounds fire." he says and pours something into our glasses, mixing it with Coke. We all took one, cheered and took our first sip. "And? You like it?“ i ask Draco with a smug face on my face. "Yeah i like this muggle stuff more and more." We all laugh at that and continue drinking and chatting, also planning a little bit what we‘re gonna do the next few days.

A few hours later we are all drunk, sitting on the couch and on the floor, but all around the table, playing uno. It was only Pansy against Blaise, the rest of us already lost. Blaise lay‘s down a wish card, seeing Pansy has only left 1 card. He thinks for a sec and says "blue" before Pansy springs up happy and dancing, throwing her blue card on the table. " Uno! ha!" Blaise groans in annoyance and lets himself fall back onto the couch.

"Let‘s play something more interesting guys!" Pansy suggests." Somethink like.. never have I ever or.. truth or dare!"

"Truth or Dare!" I giggle, taking an empty bottle from the ground. " I have a perfect app for this guys! It‘s called piccolo." I took out my phone and put all of our names into it so it could give us our first quest.

Draco and Enzo tell us about your most embarrassing story ever.

We all look at them, waiting for them to tell. Enzo tells us how his pants ripped at a date and Draco claims nothing embarrassing has ever happened to him but Pansy tells us how he sneezed into her face at the first dinner with her parents.

Theodore, choose someone‘s glass at the table and drink it all.

Theo groans and try‘s to take the glass with the least drink in it and chooses Mattheo‘s who has a little less in it then mine.

Mattheo, fill up your glass again.

Now Mattheo‘s the one who groans and does as the phone tells him to.

Y/n, choose your left or right for a at least 10 second kiss.

My eyes widen as I look to my left and see Mattheo grinning and to my right Pansy. "Sorry Mattheo." I giggle as i turn to my right and look at Pansy. She has to giggle too and comes near my face.

"Damn boys am I dreaming or are you seeing the same thing I do?" Theodore asks as he gawks at us.

"Shut up and be quiet!" Draco hisses and looks at us too. "Let‘s give them a show." Pansy giggles and pulls me closer. Our lips meet and I can‘t help but smile against her lips.

"Shit.." i hear Enzo whispering. She giggled against my lips as she hears him too and as the 10 seconds are up we seperate and look around us. They all look at us with big eyes and drooling mouths. "God what is it with boys that they find it so hot when teo girls are making out." Pansy asks.

As I lean back into my spot, Mattheo leans right next to me, his lips beside my ear as he whispers inside it "i don‘t know if i should be jelous or lucky to see something like that." My cheeks heat up again but I try to hide it with rolling my eyes and answering " you‘re a little pervert, mattheo." But I still have to laugh.

"And they‘re gone." I hear Blaise saying, which makes me look at them again to see the last bit of Draco and Pansy before they leave the living room and stumble kissing inside of their shared room.

I shake my head chuckling, Theo shouting "Use condoms my kids!"

Enzo, choose someone to drink against you, loser has to do the cleaning.

Enzo looks around the room and grins at me. "Oh my god why.." i half laugh and half whine as I take my glass and start drinking as fast as I can but Enzo is way faster and smashes his glass back down onto the table it almost broke. "Ha! yes!" Enzo celebrates.

Theodore, choose someone in this round and give them an interesting task.

Theo thinks for a moment before his lips curl up into a devilish smile. "Y/n.. " he starts "choose someone of us to give a lapdance to."

My face heats up at his words and my mind starts to think who to choose as I stand up to walk over to Theodore, but a pair of hands grip my hips and pull me into their matching lap. "Don‘t you dare pick someone else than me little peach." mattheo‘s deep voice echoes in my ear.

I look over to Blaise and tell him to put on a song for me. "Damn she really is gonna give him one." Enzo chuckles as he watches me standing up again in front of Mattheo.

Blaise puts on a song which comes out of the music boxes beside us.

I take a deep breath in and out, hoping not to embarrass myself in my drunken state.

I take his hand and leat him to an empty arm chair besides the couch.

I start slowly circling the chair, my finger gazing his shoulder and his chest as the music starts. When I stand behind him I grap his hair and softly pull on it so his head throws back. I arch my back and lower down a bit until i tease him with brushing my lips against the skin of his neck, making him shivers in his seat. I get back up and walk around the chair again, still touching his arm softly.

When I stand in front of him I put my foot on his chair between his spread legs, slowly tracing it with my own fingers. I know how much he loves me legs, he always told me. That was the real reason why Blaise always got the legs. Because I wanted to tease Mattheo.

I saw him gulping and his hands twitching as he trys not to touch my leg. I take my leg back to the ground and arch my back again, pushing his legs together and sitting on his lap in one smooth motion.

I hear the boys whistle at my move and I have to hide a smile. I slowly start to grind on his left tight, after a minute on his right but not with too much pressure, always just brushing and gazing touch.

I looked at Mattheo, him biting his lower lip and looking down at my hips grinding. I stand up again, turn around and bend over with an arched back, shaking my ass.

After that I took a few steps towards him but still with my back to him and sat down on his lap this time, leaning my back against him and slithering one arm around his neck so his head was at my shoulder. I started grinding my hips slowly but this time with more pressure. "And you wanted to do that on one of them?" Mattheo whispers in my ear, laying his hands on my moving hips.

Without answering him I stood up as the song was over. They all cheered and clapped their hands together which made me laugh and blush. I sat back down on the couch looking over to Mattheo who stood up, his hands hanging in front of his crotch.

He walked over to me, sitting beside me with a little frown to his face which made me gulp. "What‘s wrong?" I asked him quietly so the rest wouldnt hear, even tho they were already distracted by something new. "Nothing." he mumbled and looked at the still running tv. "Come on tell me, we‘re best friends. I can see somethings wrong."

Then he looks at me with sharp eyes, taking my hand and putting it on his lap. "Does this feel like nothing to you, y/n?" he asks with a low voice, my eyes going wide as I felt him hard in his pants, because of.. me?

Without even thinking I grabbed him trough his pants, making his eyes go wide. At first he looked at the boys, then at me. "Y/n.. " "Mattheo.."

Suddenly he grabs my shirt pulling me towards him and crashes his lips against mine. This time my eyes go wide as I feel his lips against mine. They feel soft and full, tasting like the apple whiskey we drank all night long. His hands roam over my body, feeling almost every inch of me.

I lick his bottom lip before I let him explore my mouth with his tounge. "Fuck you taste so fucking good." he breathes against my lips.

My hand is still on his lap, feeling almost paralyzed as i didn‘t move out of fear what would happen next If I continue. But I could feel how much harder he got from our little makeout session.

"Mattheo.. we have to stop." I whisper against his lips, my forehead against his. "But it feels so good.." "I know it does, but we will regret it If we don‘t stop, okay?" He groans and takes me by my hips, pulling me on top of him.

"Y/n, please. I beg you. Just make out a little more with me, I need this." he slurrs, obviously still as drunk as I am. That‘s why I blame my next decision on the alcohol.

My hands grab his shirt and I pull him even closer to me, brushing my lips against his. "Tomorrow we‘re normal friends again okay? Nothings going to be awkward or different, because we just make out a little.. like friends do, helping each other just to ease a little. Promise me." the words come out as a whisper and he nodds, agreeing to them. ".. I promise."

Desperately he closes the space between us, taking my lips in for a heated kiss again. My hands were on his hair, slightly pulling on some strands. "Do that again.." he groans. I pull again and a strangled moan leaves his lips making me shiver on him.

He arches his back a little, bucking his hips against mine. He shudders when my hips move back against his, still sitting on his lap.

"What are you even doing to me, Peach – huh?" I hear him say before he traces down an invisible path down my neck, leaving light and wet kissed.

– thats all I remember before waking up in my bed in the morning with my head hurting like hell. I groan and try to get up, wanting to take a shower. It sounds like the rest is still asleep so I walk into mine and Pansy‘s bathroom, taking off my clothes to get into the shower. With one last turn I see myself in the mirror, my eyes widen. What the fuck.

I had a hickey right between my breasts and one on my collorbone but it was really small and almost bot noticeable. Who was - shit Mattheo.

—

yoo 2 posts in less than 24h ?? Crazyy

this is going to be a mini series. 🫶🏻 inspired by my vacation 2 weeks ago to Barcelona 🇪🇸

my Masterlist

xoxo Sarah <3

684 notes · View notes

lovebugism · 4 months

Note

“oh, if i had known that’s all it would take for you to shut up i would’ve done this ages ag-“ “only finish that sentence if you have a death wish” with steve & punchy? <3

ty for requesting :D — steve makes a stupid joke and figures out what makes you tick (steve x punchy, hurt/comfort-ish, 0.9k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

The argument started as a joke. And honestly, you kinda started it, so you have no reason to be as angry about it as you are now. You’re the one who said you hated Steve’s singing. It was only right he argued playfully back.

“What are you talking about?” he scoffed as he climbed into bed beside you, freshly showered and smelling like your shampoo. “My singing is amazing.”

“Okay, Kermit the Frog,” you quipped, giggling.

“You know who’d like my singing?”

Your eyes narrow when he cuddles into your side. “Who?”

“Tammy Thompson,” he answered with a knowing smile.

He should’ve known he was playing with fire then.

“The girl who sounds like Miss Piggy?”

“Yeah,” Steve hummed, shrugged two freckled shoulders. “Maybe I should be dating her instead.”

You knew he was joking. Steve was a dumbass, but he wasn’t mean. He’d never say something like that with the intent to hurt you. He did anyway, though. His words take you by surprise, and you go silent. And that’s when Steve knows he’s said the wrong thing. Because his oh, so lovely loudmouth Punchy is never silent.

“I’m kidding!” he exclaims when you turn away from him. You cross your arms over your chest and shift softly on the mattress — playfully pouty in your way but meaning every bit of it. “Punchy. C’mon. You know I didn’t mean that.”

He reaches out for you and wraps a golden arm around your shoulder. You shrug, flinching away from him. “Don’t touch me,” you murmur, even though you don’t really mean it. ‘Cause, yeah, you’re a little upset, but you love when he coddles you.

You’re grateful when he only hugs you tighter.

“Why not?” he argues and leans in to kiss your cheek. His plush lips just barely graze your jaw before you duck away from him. He laughs loud in your ear, as golden as honey.

“It’s not funny. Steve! That wasn’t nice!”

“Don’t be like that, babe. It was just a stupid joke.”

You turn your chin to your shoulder to glare at him, just so he can see your unamused pout from head-on. He meets your glower with a grin and tries to peck you. You turn away before he can. “Go kiss Tammy Thompson.”

“Punchy…”

“Steve…” you say in the same low tone.

“If I wanted Tammy Thompson, I’d be with her.”

You know he’s trying to comfort you. He chose you because he wanted to be with you, and he didn’t choose Tammy because he didn’t want to be with Tammy. You know that’s what he means, but it sounds like King Steve is saying it.

“Oh, really?” you squint.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah. She was obsessed with me. You know that. Hell, everyone knew that.”

“Why? ‘Cause everyone was obsessed with you, King Steve?”

He figures you must be calling him that to hit a nerve. He’d hurt your feelings (even though he truly hadn’t meant to), and now you want to hurt his back. And it might’ve worked if the way you said it didn’t turn him on.

He likes you all riled up like this, he quickly realizes. Now he just wants to keep poking at you, make you that tiny bit more mad. So, with a very smug smile on his pink lips, he answers. “Yeah… Kinda.”

His plan works.

“Okay, news flash, just because you’re pretty and you have nice hair doesn’t make you less of an asshole, alright?” you argue without taking a single breath. “Actually, for a long time, you were the biggest asshole I had ever met— and sixteen-year-old me would be gagging if she knew I was in your bed right now.”

“Yeah?” he eggs on, pressing his lips to your warm shoulder where the neck of your too-big sweatshirt had fallen.

“Yeah, actually! I mean, you were boorish and vapid and totally incorrigible—”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” he mumbles against you and continues pressing little kisses to your warming skin.

“—And the fact that Tammy Thompson, let alone anybody, could’ve been obsessed with someone like you back then is totally…” His lips find your pulse point then, wet and sanguine. The words get jumbled up in your head, and you forget how to say them out loud.

You feel Steve’s mouth curl into a smirk against your neck. He knows he’s got you in the palm of his hand now. “Is totally what?” he teases, muffled into your skin.

“Shut up and keep kissing me,” you murmur.

He listens to you, because he always listens to you, but it’s hard to when he’s smiling so wide. His lips sprinkle up the length of your neck and over your jaw. He pulls away with a rosier, softly swollen mouth.

His smile is gentle and lopsided. “If I’d known that’s all it took to get you quiet, I would’ve done it forever a—”

You reach for him suddenly, splaying your palm over his mouth — pinky under his nose and thumb over his stubbly chin. Your eyes narrow. “Only finish that sentence if you have a death wish,” you mutter in a low, threatening tone. “Nod so I know you understand me.”

He nods into your hand.

“If you still want me to be your girlfriend tomorrow, only talk to tell me how much you love me and that you hate Tammy Thompson.”

You feel his smile widen beneath your palm. He nods again.

You pull your hand away.

“Now kiss me.”

The fucker takes the breath from your lungs.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: bug turns one

775 notes · View notes

soundlessdreamss · 4 months

Note

Hi!

Can i request lucifer and charlie morningstar with starlight glimmer!Reader?

So the reader was lucifer's child back in heaven and when she saw what her father did without her..She felt anger and sorrow insode herself.. But that didn't stop of her because she fell from heaven to hell...And she changed her appearance so nobody would suspect that she looks similar to lucifer

If you know starlight's cutie mark ability that is different..The reader can collect people's soul and feed the souls to her clock

Her clock is golden one with starlight mark on the behind..And she can time travel but she don't use it alot since she still has some other abilities to keep in control..

And the reader just went to the hazbin hotel just to stay there and help with few stuff... And vaggie knows reader but not that deep..Charlie noticed that the reader had few blonde hair strings like lucifer.. So she thought nothing at first..

And the reader saw alastor as father figure so sometimes the reader calls him father and alastor just tells the reader to call him father which the reader become happy since she didn't had anyone else at all

So when lucifer visits the hotel how he will react?

I could just when lucifer pointed it out alastor would have the biggest grin then spoke

"Oh?,well she calls me her father!"

I wanna see it sooooo badly‼️‼️

It's alright if you don't do it<3

Also can be called the servy anon?

I like your fics sm<3

Hope to see more of it<3

Have good day/evening/night<3

omg I LOVE mlp!! Of course I can write this, I haven’t got that far though so I’m not really sure how starlight glimmer acts but I did a bit of research and I’ll try my best to write this well!

PLATONIC/FATHER ALASTOR X READER X LUCIFER (sorry if this isn’t how u write it, I’m still new to this whole fanfic thing ^_^ ) Also this is kinda angsty, and requests are open!

When you were still a kid in heaven you saw Lucifer as the best father in the world! He loved and cherished you deeply, you didn’t think he would give you up that easily. Would he?

You wanted to play with him one day and looked everywhere for him but you couldn’t find him. You asked an angel if they had any clue where he was but they said he was banished with his wife Lillth because they rebelled against heaven.

he seriously just left you like that? Without a word? To say you were angered was an understatement. you were FUMING. But you also couldn’t help but feel so miserable and depressed that he just left you like that.

you thought he cared about you just as much as you cared about him. But you were wrong.

After a couple hundred years when you became an adult, all of that anger and sorrow that you had stored you from Lucifer, you finally snapped. You took it out on the angels which led you to getting banished for being rude and improper.

The first thing you did in hell was change your appearance because you knew Lucifer was the king of hell and you really didn’t wanna see him again after what he did to you. (You also kinda regretted taking your anger out on the angels who did nothing to you.)

Your first couple months in hell were agonizing as everyone here was so different compared to the angels and people in heaven. It felt like you were an outcast.

You tried to not use your powers as much but when it got really bad you decided to collect their soul and feed it into your clock. Or you sometimes dropped time in order to collect their soul as well.

As you were walking in the streets of hell one day you heard an advertisement about a hotel and it caught your attention. You looked at the tv for the ad and it described a hotel where sinners can be redeemed if they just try to become better.

It sounded like a breath of fresh air compared to all these other advertisements for clubs so you decided why not visit the hotel? It couldn’t be so bad.

After a couple minutes of walking you made it to the hotel and knocked on the door. You were taken aback as a blonde haired girl hugged you tight and welcomed you to the hotel. But you also noticed Vaggie was there.

The blonde hair girl introduced herself as Charlie and also Vaggies girlfriend. (You congratulated Vaggie in private and also mentioned to not let Charlie know about her identity.)

As you were talking to Vaggie in private after being introduced to the hotel and welcomed she told you that Charlie was Lucifer’s daughter. You couldn’t believe it.

Not only did he leave you behind, but he started a whole family without you even knowing. You were in disbelief and asked Vaggie to not let Charlie know that you were her older sister technically.

You both agreed to it and went back to the lobby. Charlie couldn’t help but notice you had blonde streaks in your hair that looked similar to her blonde hair but she just shrugged it off.

You were also introduced to a man named Alastor and he greeted you very kindly. And before you knew it you guys started growing a daughter and father bond.

He treated you just like his daughter if he had one, he filled the parental role that Lucifer never did.

It made your heart happy knowing that you could finally have a father figure that you knew wouldn’t leave you. You guys bonded over the span of a couple weeks and you accidentally called him dad once out loud.

He didn’t mind though and said that you could even call him dad because he thought it was sweet that you saw him as your father.

As the weeks went by Charlie finally had an idea to let heaven approve of their hotel she just needed to call her father to schedule a meeting with heaven for her.

The one thing you didn’t expect her to do was to invite him over though. Fuck. What were you supposed to do now?! You really didn’t wanna see Lucifer again and panicked internally.

You helped the crew set up the hotel for Lucifer’s visit but your anxiety just rose more and more the closer it got to an hour passing by. (Since he said he was going in an hour)

Once it was finally time to greet him he burst through the door and hugged Charlie tightly since he had missed her, he also greeted kiki, and razzle and dazzle. It hurt a bit seeing how much cared for her but didn’t care for you.

You tried hiding behind Alastor a bit but Lucifer looked at his way when he pointed out the reservations and noticed it was you even with the changes you did to yourself.

His breathe got stuck in his throat and he couldn’t believe it was really you after all these years. Oh how he regretted never taking you with him.

He approached you and looked at you closely before saying “[reader], is that really you?…”

He brushed some strands of hair out of your face before pulling you into a hug. That was not something the other members of the hotel expected.

You pushed him off quickly though as you were still angry and uncomfortable with him.

He didn’t get why you pushed him off, he thought you still missed him after all these years of not being together.

It didn’t take too long for Alastor to connect the pieces since he was good observer. You had those blonde streaks in your hair for a reason no?… that’s cause you were related to the king of hell himself, Lucifer.

Alastor than put his hand around your waist pulling you closer. (Not in a romantic way!!) He than spoke up about Lucifer’s behavior. “Lucifer if you don’t mind excusing me but, what exactly are you doing with my daughter?”

Lucifer seemed in shock when he said that. “YOUR daughter? Oh please, you remember don’t you [reader]? It’s me your father, Lucifer! He had a desperate and nervous smile on his face hoping that you would remember him.

Before you could speak up Alastor cut you off and spoke first “Oh really? That’s quite funny cause [reader] calls me her father.”

The whole room went silent after that. Lucifer couldn’t believe it, Alastor was just playing around was he? You were probably just having an inside joke with him but no, you really saw Alastor as your father instead of Lucifer, your ACTUAL father.

You saw the heartbroken look on Lucifer’s face and didn’t know what to say in response but managed to mutter something out. “I’m sorry, but it’s been hundreds of years since that day happened, you need to let me go.”

After managing to mutter that out you excused yourself and went back to your room in the hotel. After Alastor and Lucifer fought over you and Charlie, (and after Charlie and Lucifer sang the song together) Lucifer knocked on the door but you didn’t answer so he teleported inside your room.

Only to see you and Alastor on your rooms balcony together. You were crying on the floor from the painful encounter and Alastor comforted you saying sweet words to make you feel better.

Before Alastor or you could notice Lucifer he quickly left and went back to his palace and rethought about his choices he made with you. He knew he couldn’t get his daughter back, it was already too late. If only he made the decision to take you with him.

note: I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!! please don’t be shy to send me requests, I’ll gladly write more fun things like this. ^_^

#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #alastor x reader #platonic #platonic x reader #light angst

612 notes · View notes

chvoswxtch · 4 months

Note

what are your husband!frank headcanons because I love that grumpy man? 🤍

oh my darling sweet nonnie

I think about husband!frankie a lot and I have so many thots about this lets get into it

being married to frank castle

i've said this before and i'll say it again: frank is a hopeless romantic and no one can change my mind

he is a SUCKER for his spouse like literally would do anything they wanted

you wanna paint the kitchen barbie pink? sure baby, let me pick up some some paint

your bookshelf is full? hang on honey, i'll build you another

you had a bad day? where does your boss live *cocks gun*

frank is obsessed with his spouse like literally thinks they hung the moon and all the stars in the goddamn sky

I feel like after losing maria and the kids, when he gets another chance to be a husband, he's all in

he helps cook dinner, or even tells you he'll handle it for the night so that you can relax

he'll run you a nice hot bubble bath and light some candles if you had a stressful day

anything you pick up in the store and put back, he secretly sneaks into the cart

he listens to you vent, bc frank is a very good listener, and offers advice when he can

he surprises you with lunch dates, sends flowers to your job just to let you know he was thinking about you, calls you even if he's only going to be 5 minutes late coming home

he's very protective of you when you're out in public and doesn't let you out of his sight or let anyone get too close for comfort

frank doesn't talk a whole lot, but when he speaks, it's from the heart

he doesn't do grand outrageous gestures to show you he loves you but it is obvious in all the little things he does bc I genuinely believe his love language is acts of service and physical touch

he's SO proud to be your husband like anytime you introduce him to anyone or mention "my husband this" or "my husband that" he's got the biggest grin on his face

to say he would die for you is such a huge understatement, francis david castiglione would wage war on god herself for you

bottom line is husband!frank is a huge sap and even if he acts grumpy that you want to paint the kitchen pink or your car broke down bc you forgot to tell him you needed your oil changed (it happens to the best of us) he is so madly in love with you that you could do no wrong in his eyes

#frank castle #frank castle request #frank castle headcanon #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher request #the punisher headcannon

630 notes · View notes

atomicladytimetravel · 4 months

Text

Mirror Mirror

Summary: No Outbreak AU. After an upsetting encounter with a young girl at Sephora, Joel has to show his wife just how beautiful she is. Established relationship. No physical description of the character, just that she’s female and has hair long enough to gather into a ponytail. She = You. I just wanted to try a different format. Inspired by the many Sephora brat TikToks I’ve seen and my own depraved imagination. There may be a sequel later.

Warnings: Dom!Joel, Daddy kink (slight dd/lg vibes), throat fucking, choking, fingering, squirting, oral (m and f receiving), face sitting, spanking, mirror play, unprotected sex, creampie. So…just general depravity. 18+ ONLY. MDNI.

Word count: 3,692

This has been edited. I realized I missed a whole chunk of text 😩

“Joel, have you been using my good shampoo? I just bought this bottle and I’m almost out.”

Joel Miller’s wife appears behind where he’s sitting on the couch, shampoo bottle in hand. She walks around to stand in front of him, brandishing the mostly empty bottle.

“Oh…yeah,” he admits sheepishly. “I like the way it makes my hair look.”

“No wonder you’ve been extra irresistible lately,” she giggles, tousling his very soft hair. “I’m gonna make a run to Sephora to get more. I’ll just get a bigger bottle.”

She grabs her purse, gives Joel a swift kiss and makes her way out the door.

When she enters the store, she heads straight for the shampoo. She picks out the biggest bottle of Living Proof Perfect Hair Day they carry and starts to walk towards the checkout counter. She passes a Drunk Elephant display and notices that exactly one bottle of the coveted drops is available. She’s been wanting to try them and decides to grab one while it’s there. She reaches for the bottle, and her hand is about to close around it when another slightly smaller hand snatches it.

“Ha! Got it!”

She turns to see a girl who could’ve been no more than twelve holding the drops with a triumphant and smug grin.

“Wow, uh, okay. I was gonna buy that.”

“Looks like you’re not now,” the girl says. Before she struts away, she turns back and says: “By the way…no amount of makeup in this store is going to fix the ugly on your face.”

She’s taken aback by the girl’s unsolicited insult. She waits to see if the girl meets back up with a parent (or adult of any kind) but she doesn’t - she buys the Drunk Elephant drops and exits the store alone.

“Jesus, kids just do whatever the fuck they want now I guess,” she thinks to herself. She buys her shampoo and thinks about the interaction for the entire twenty minute drive back home.

Upon her arrival home, she kicks off her shoes in the foyer and makes a beeline for the bedroom.

“I’m just gonna put this away, I’ll be right back,” she tells Joel. She does put the shampoo away, but she can’t help but hold onto what the girl at Sephora said to her. Before meeting Joel, her confidence level was near zero. He spent a lot of time convincing her that she’s beautiful, but this little girl obviously saw something Joel doesn’t.

She stands in front of the beautiful antique mirror Joel had gotten her as an anniversary gift after she fawned over it at an antique store. She picks herself apart in the full length mirror, pinching skin between her fingers and looking for any sign of aging, no matter how subtle. The longer she looks, the more she hates what she sees. Her nose isn’t right, her skin isn’t clear enough, her pores are way too fucking big. Her bottom lip trembles and tears spill from her eyes. Defeated, she shuffles to the bed where she buries her face into a pillow to stifle her sobs. This is how Joel finds her. He rushes to her side, kneeling beside the bed and rubbing her back soothingly.

“Whoa, hey…what’s wrong love?”

She tearfully recounts what happened to her at Sephora and Joel’s face turns stoney. All the work he’s done to make her love herself, to see herself the way he does was all undone in an instant - and over a fucking bottle of overpriced skincare.

“It sounds like you’ve forgotten everything daddy taught you, huh little one? Maybe you need a reminder.”

She sits up on her elbow and looks at him incredulously through her tears.

“Does it really look like I want to fuck right now Joel? How can you even want to fuck me anyway? Look at me!”

“I always want you baby girl. Always,” he replies earnestly. Then, he lowers his voice and his tone becomes dominant. “And now, you’re gonna be a good girl and let daddy show you. Right?”

She can’t deny him when he speaks to her this way. His dominant affection for her never fails to get her going. She sits up fully and wipes her tears.

“Yes daddy,” she responds. He gets to his feet and takes her hand in his, leading her around to the foot of the bed. He stands her in front of the mirror and, standing behind her, slowly begins to undress her. He starts with her top, placing his hands at her sides and pushing the fabric up her body. She raises her arms so that he can pull the top off and he discards it somewhere to the side.

Next is her bra, and he makes light work of unclasping it. The straps fall off her shoulders and she lets the bra slide to the floor. He cups her breasts in his large hands, kneading them and pulling gently on her nipples. She moans softly, arousal overriding the self pity she’d been feeling. Joel’s eyes meet hers in their reflection and the look of pure adoration and love on his face makes her feel silly for her insecurities.

“Look how fuckin’ gorgeous my wife is,” he tells her, his lips right next to her ear. He kisses just below her earlobe and she tips her head to the side to allow him to nuzzle her neck. She shivers as he sucks her skin, leaving red splotches behind that will surely be purple later.

He hooks his forefingers into the waistband of her leggings (and, simultaneously, her panties) and drags them down around her feet. She steps out of them, kicking them away with the toe of one foot. He straightens up and admires her naked figure in the reflection.

“You see this body, hmm? I love this body.”

He brushes his fingertips up the curves of her hips and the sensation elicits another soft moan from her. He takes her jaw in his hand and turns her head for a kiss, his other hand dipping between her legs teasingly.

“Mm, wet already? And I’ve barely touched you,” he muses. He walks the two of them backwards until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. He sits and scoots back far enough to give her room to situate herself between his legs.

“I want you to watch yourself in the mirror while I play with your pretty pussy, okay?” he instructs. “I want you to see what I see.”

He rests his chin on her shoulder and she meets his eyes in the mirror.

“Look at yourself, not at me.”

Her eyes, which are still puffy from crying, shift back to her own reflection.

“Now, say ‘I’m a pretty girl.’”

She hesitates and he smacks one of her breasts. The action catches her off guard and she gasps, but an unmistakable pang of arousal follows the stinging and she whimpers quietly.

“Say it,” he commands harshly in her ear and this time, she obeys.

“I’m a pretty girl.”

“There’s a good girl,” he praises, now massaging the breast he’s just smacked. Soft, sensual kisses are pressed to her neck as his free hand squeezes the flesh of her inner thigh. “Spread your legs for me now.”

She opens her legs and he begins rubbing her clit slowly, teasingly. Her eyes flutter as pleasure takes over and he whispers a reminder to keep them open in her ear. She lets her eyes focus on her reflection and, to her immense surprise, she kind of likes what she sees. Her mouth is parted to let her breathy moans escape and her pupils are lust blown. Her eyes flit to where Joel is rubbing circles on her clit; his hands are beautiful and watching his long middle finger trace the sensitive bundle of nerves makes her eyes roll back.

“That is actually so hot,” she moans. He grins satisfactorily.

“I know it baby. Got me hard as a rock back here.”

He slides his finger into her slowly and she begs him for another. She attempts to watch as he fingers her in earnest, but her eyes eventually slip closed. It’s hard to keep her focus on the mirror when he’s making her feel so good.

“Keep those eyes open,” he warns. “Don’t wanna miss the best part.”

“S-sorry daddy. It just feels so good.”

“Mm, I can tell. You’re fuckin’ soaked.” He curls his fingers and hits that spot inside her that would’ve made her eyes fly open if they weren’t already glued to the mirror.

“Oh fuck,” she swears breathily. “Please keep going like that.”

He can see on her face that she’s almost at her peak. He brings his other hand to her throat and gives it a light squeeze. She likes how she looks with his hand around her neck and his fingers inside her. It makes her cunt throb that much more.

“Oh god…daddy I’m so close, please don’t stop.”

“Got no intentions on stoppin’,” he says in her ear before nibbling on her earlobe. She feels the pressure building and with just a few more curls of his fingers, the coil snaps.

“Fuck!” she shouts. “I’m cumming…oh my god!”

He removes his fingers and a spray of fluid comes out of her. She squirts so hard that it hits the mirror. Her eyes roll back in spite of the effort she’s putting in to keep them open and her mouth opens in a silent scream. Joel rubs her clit furiously and doesn’t stop until she clamps her thighs around his hand.

“Jesus Christ baby, I love it when you do that,” he tells her before pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. “Did you see how pretty you look when you cum for me?”

She had, briefly. And she had to admit, it was pretty hot.

“Yes daddy,” she answers. She’s a little sheepish as she admits: “I kinda liked it.”

He chuckles at this.

“As you should baby girl.”

He kisses her and she reaches her hand behind her to squeeze the bulge in his sweatpants. He groans and she squeezes him just a little harder.

“Fuck, get on your knees for me,” he says. The two of them shuffle off the bed and she drops to her knees in front of him. He rids himself of his t-shirt and she yanks his sweats down. He’d forgone underwear and his cock springs free when the sweatpants go past his waist. He gathers her hair into a makeshift ponytail in his hand while she teases the tip of his cock. She drags her tongue along the vein that runs on the underside of his shaft and he hisses.

“Don’t fuckin’ tease me woman.”

She smirks, looking up at him and batting her lashes.

“Sorry daddy,” she giggles.

“Don’t let your newfound confidence get ya a punishment, princess,” he warns. Heeding this warning, she wraps her lips around the tip of his cock and takes him in until her nose touches skin.

“Ohhhh yeeeah,” he sighs, gripping her hair just a little tighter. “Love that mouth baby.”

She bobs her head back and forth a few times, pushing him a bit deeper down her throat each time. She gags just a little when he starts fucking her throat, but she’s able to recover.

“God, fuck yeah, swallow my cock baby. You’re so good at this.”

He thrusts forward a few more times before tugging on her hair and making her look up at him.

“What are you?” he demands.

“I’m a pretty girl,” she gasps, voice horse from having his cock in her throat. He taps her lips with his tip and she opens obediently, allowing him to continue fucking her throat. Tears spill down her cheeks as she gags.

“That’s right; and whose pretty girl are you?”

He takes his cock out of her mouth long enough for her to answer, “Yours sir!” before shoving it back in.

“God damn right. Good girl,” he praises as he continues to fuck her face. The ache between her legs becomes too much to bear and she slides a hand between them to play with her clit. Joel doesn’t miss this and he moans at the sight.

“You like getting your throat fucked, huh baby girl?”

She manages to make a sound akin to “uh-huh” and he chuckles through his nose.

“My good fuckin’ slut.”

She gasps for air when he pulls his cock out of her mouth, drool connecting her lips to his tip. He runs his thumb across her puffy bottom lip and smiles at her affectionately.

“Fuck baby, that’s a stunnin’ sight: red swollen lips and tears runnin’ down that pretty face,” he compliments. He bends down and kisses her roughly before helping her to her feet.

“I want you to come sit on my face,” he tells her. This is his favorite position to eat her out in and he insists on giving her multiple orgasms before even considering giving her (or himself) a breather. Not that she’s complaining.

“Don’t you dare hover,” he reminds her as he lies flat on the mattress. She straddles his face and lowers herself onto his outstretched tongue. He wraps his arms around the tops of her thighs, holding her in place as he flicks his tongue over her clit.

“That feels so fucking good,” she moans. Joel’s eyes are glued to her face in anticipation of the moment she falls apart. That moment is going to come sooner rather than later; it only takes about a minute of him swirling his tongue around her clit to make her cum. He doesn’t stop there, cleaning up one orgasm and reveling in the taste while simultaneously leading her to another. He laps at her pussy while she unashamedly rides his face, chasing her next orgasm.

“Oh my g - fuck, please I’m cumming again!”

He moans into her pussy and reaches a hand down to wrap around his cock. He’s so hard he can’t stand it any longer. He strokes himself as she writhes above him, being anything but quiet. She falls forward and grips the headboard to steady herself. Joel sucks on her now swollen clit relentlessly and she orgasms again. He feels an immense satisfaction as she ruts against his face, babbling about how she can’t stop cumming. After three consecutive orgasms, she feels that familiar pressure building and she knows she’s about to soak him down.

“G-gonna squirt,” she manages to warn him. She lifts off his face in enough time to not completely waterboard him with the spray coming out of her. She shouts profanities, her thighs trembling, and she hears the telltale signs of him jacking off furiously.

“God damn princess, you are so fuckin’ sexy,” he compliments through gritted teeth. She collapses onto her back with her legs squeezed together, trying to catch her breath and recover from the intensity of the last several orgasms.

“Are you good?” he asks, panting a bit himself.

“Yeah, I just need a few seconds,” she replies breathlessly. He sits up and rubs her leg soothingly as she recovers. When she’s ready, she relaxes her legs and lets them fall open. He settles between them on his knees and rubs her pussy with the tip of his cock. Her hips jolt upward, clit still sensitive. He does this a few times until she’s rubbing herself on him in desperation.

“Please put it in daddy, I need to feel you inside me,” she whines. He’s as desperate as she is and he fulfills her request without hesitation.

“Fuck baby girl, you’re soakin’ wet. My cock went in so easy. S-so good, so tight, fuck,” he babbles. She loves how vocal he is and it gives her a confidence boost to hear him whimpering because of her pussy.

“You feel how fuckin’ hard I am inside this little cunt baby doll?”

“God yes, you’re stretching me out so good.”

“That’s what you do to me - make me so hard it hurts. Why do you think I’m always pawin’ at ya, huh?”

The way he’s snapping his hips into her renders her unable to answer. All she can provide are pathetic moans, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. She registers a smack across one of her breasts; the sting is delicious but the smack is still enough to get her attention.

“Answer,” he growls.

“Be-because…I - oh fuck - cause I’m a pretty girl,” she manages to answer.

“Atta girl. My beautiful…sexy…fuckin’…bombshell.”

He punctuates each word with a snap of his hips and she cries out each time. He fucks her harder and harder and she knows he’s determined to make her squirt again. She holds her legs back so he can go deeper and he leans in for a sloppy kiss.

“C’mon sugar, squirt all over me. Gimme that fuckin’ cum,” he says into her ear, his voice low and gravelly.

“Now, gonna cum now,” she pants in warning. He pulls out and she explodes, fluid coming out of her like a fountain and splashing against his chest. He rubs her clit with four fingers to prolong her orgasm while she writhes and shouts underneath him.

“Oh yeeeahh” he grits out when a few more spurts of fluid come forth. “Gimme all you got baby girl. Such a pretty little mess for me.”

When her hips still, he spreads her legs open once more and stuffs his cock back inside, going at it full force. He holds her under the crooks of her legs and grunts wildly as he chases his orgasm.

“You ready for my load baby? Daddy’s gonna fill this sweet little pussy so full.”

“Oh god yes, please fill me up daddy! Wanna be so full of you.”

“Oh fuck, here it comes. You’re makin’ me cum so hard,” he moans. He stills and shoots his load inside of her, groaning and rubbing her swollen clit with his thumb. She feels his cock pumping ropes of cum into her and his orgasm lasts for what seems like thirty seconds. When he pulls out, she doesn’t fail to notice he’s still hard. He flips her over on her stomach and pulls her hips back toward him.

“You see baby?” he says as he slides his cock back into her. “I’m still so fuckin’ hard. You make me crazy.”

He gathers her wrists behind her back in one hand and smacks her ass repeatedly with the other. All she can do is whine and whimper while he pounds into her relentlessly.

“Fuck yeah, take this cock. Daddy’s pretty slut,” he mumbles. He reaches forward and grabs a fistful of her hair, pulling slightly as he fucks into her forcefully.

“Who’s it for baby, huh? Who does this little pussy belong to?”

“Y-you daddy, belongs to you.”

“Damn right darlin’.”

Her hands grip the sheets beneath her hard enough to pull them off the corner of the mattress as he brings her to yet another orgasm. She’s lost count of the orgasms at this point.

“Look at how fuckin’ good we look baby,” he grunts, directing her attention to the mirror once more. She looks at their reflection and the sight is erotic. Joel’s body is flush, sweat droplets forming at his hairline. One hand is in her hair, the other gripping her hip. Her breasts bounce with each of his thrusts forward and both of their eyes are wild with lust.

“Oh fuck…so hot,” she moans.

“Yeah? Does my pretty wife like watching herself take daddy’s cock?”

“Yes sir!”

“And you take it so well, too. God, you’re so pretty with me inside.”

“D-daddy,” she whimpers. “I’m gonna cum again.”

“Nu-uh baby, wait for me this time.”

“Daddyyyy,” she whines.

“Don’t you cum until I say so,” he growls. As he chases his orgasm, his thrusts speed up and make it almost impossible for her to obey him.

“Look at me,” he commands. She lifts her eyes and meets his in the mirror and it’s all she can do not to cum right then.

“Please daddy, please! I need to cum, fuck, please!” she begs.

“I know baby, I know. Doin’ so good for me. Just a little longer, you can do it.”

He lets go of her hair and grips both hips so that he can pull her back to meet his thrusts. He can’t stop watching his gorgeous fucking wife take his cock in the mirror. She’s biting her bottom lip, her expression a mixture of pleasure and concentration as she attempts to stave off the orgasm she so desperately wants to have. His cock twitches inside her and she knows that he’s close.

“Cum for daddy now baby. Oh god, let me see you cum.”

She relaxes and lets the coil snap. Her vision goes white as her eyes roll back. She cries out and she hears Joel saying filthy things while he pumps her full of cum again.

“Yeah, that’s right, take this cum. My little cum slut. Fuck, I’m cumming so much.”

When both their orgasms subsided, he pulls out gingerly, his cock sensitive and spent. Her pussy is the same, red and puffy and still throbbing. They both fall onto the mattress, breathing heavily. She flips so that she’s facing him and gives him a soft smile.

“Thank you,” she says. He returns her smile and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“For the confidence boost or the dick?” he jokes. She giggles.

“Both.”

“You always have been, always will be, the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he tells her sincerely. He places his hand on her cheek and kisses her sweetly. “The only thing I can think of that would make you even more beautiful is if you’d let me put a baby in here.”

He pats her stomach and looks at her hopefully. Her face breaks out into a grin.

“You wanna have a baby with me, huh?”

“Yeah, I really do.”

“It’s settled then,” she says, snuggling into him. “We’ll try for a baby.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou series #tlou smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut

483 notes · View notes

loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

The birthday gift Robin gets from her parents is that they’re gonna help her fund a three month solo trip to Paris. Steve thinks she should be delivering this news with much more excitement than she currently is.

“Okay, but you’re going, right?” he says, as she bites her nails for the third time. When she doesn’t reply, he lifts his eyes to the heavens, despairing. “Oh my god, are you kidding? Robin, you’ve wanted this for—”

“Years,” she confirms, so quietly. “I want—” She swallows. “I want it so badly, Steve.”

He pauses, drops their usual teasing schtick. “Okay,” he says, a little softer. “What’s going on?”

“It’s just…” She moves her hand away from her mouth, tugs on a hangnail. “What if—what if something… happens. And I’m not…” She gestures vaguely. “Not here.”

Steve slings an arm over her shoulder. “Rob,” he says, “nothing’s gonna happen.”

Robin nods. “I know, I know.”

But then she sighs, and Steve understands: it’s one thing to know something objectively, another thing to feel the certainty in your bones.

He has a wave of gratitude for Robin’s parents, for them knowing that she needs this, for letting her have a year out, maybe even two, without judgement. It’s something they all need, really, in different ways: some time to let the weight of everything settle, to catch their breath.

Steve’s honestly been relishing the mundanity of it all, the comfort of routine—easy days where the biggest ‘disaster’ is him being late for their opening shift at Family Video.

“Keith’s keeping your job open for you, right?” Steve asks, just in case that’s a sticking point.

Robin nods again, laughing. “Yeah, mom arranged that all before she even booked the flights. Well, I think she just basically told him that—”

“So it’s gonna be a super long vacation.” Steve gives her knee a reassuring little shake, before tickling the back of it. “Jesus, Robin, if you don’t go, I’ll go for you.”

Robin snorts and wiggles out of his grip. “Shut up.”

“And I’ll speak French so badly that I’ll just get banned for life, like, right outta the gate, it’ll be tragic—”

“I’ve got the picture, dingus,” she says, and she’s smiling—finally, finally there’s a spark of excitement in her eyes.

And that excitement only grows as her flight date gets closer, as she calls Steve the week before, begging him to be the one to take her to the airport, because, “My dad took one look at my suitcase and burst into tears, please Steve, the man can’t do this.”

And then Steve’s pulling up to her driveway, and she’s already waiting for him, perched on her suitcase. She’s wearing a cobalt blue beret, and Steve loves her so much he thinks his heart might burst with it.

For a while, it’s all grins and laughter, Steve giggling every time he edges out of the driveway, and Robin’s mom stops him, frantically waving, asking if Robin’s got everything, did you pack that other coat, honey?

Then it feels like time rushes forward—they’re at the airport, and Steve gets out of the car to fetch Robin’s case from the trunk, but she’s already got it, is already standing in the parking lot, eyes wide.

“What’s gonna happen now?” she whispers.

Steve’s heart clenches; the last time she’d asked that had been as they sped to the hospital, Robin gripping his hand so tightly as Eddie lay unconscious.

Steve puts both hands on her shoulders. “You’re gonna have the best time,” he says, deadly serious, “and then you’re gonna come back and tell me all about it.”

She laughs, right on the edge of becoming tearful. “O-okay.” She blinks several times.

“Don’t,” Steve says, faux-warningly, “or you’ll set me off, too.”

And it’s only partly a joke.

“Okay,” Robin says again, and then she’s hugging Steve tight, pressing a damp kiss to his cheek. “I’ll miss you.”

“God, me too. Every day.” Steve rocks her back and forth, makes sure her beret doesn’t get dislodged with the force of the hug.

When they break apart, Robin picks up her case—she pauses, then grins.

“Now, if you’ll just point me in the right direction…”

Steve chuckles. He spins her around so she’s facing the airport, then pats her on the back.

She starts walking.

Steve stays right where he is; he knows she’ll look back right at the last second—ah, there she goes. He shakes his head, laughs. Waves.

He drives back alone.

When he gets home, he barely has time to even think about it, because the kids have biked over after school, clamouring for him to order pizza from the moment he opens the front door, and Eddie’s shrugging apologetically with a grin, and it’s only later that Steve realises that the whole thing was probably coordinated beforehand.

And he’s fine, really, he’s absolutely fine until he steps into the hall to use the phone, and he unthinkingly orders the pizza him and Robin usually share: one half with pepperoni, the other half with mushrooms.

And then he has to finish the rest of the phone call with a lump in his throat, and when he hangs up, Eddie is watching him with a sad kind of smile.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

“Don’t. Don’t be nice to me, goddamn it.” Steve shuts his eyes. “I was fine, I was fine.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Eddie knocks their foreheads together gently. “I’ll miss her, too.”

And God, missing Robin does hurt, but it’s nothing compared to the joy Steve feels whenever he receives a letter from her. He laughs himself stupid the first time, because instead of just using sheets of paper, she’s sent multiple postcards wrapped in an elastic band, her handwriting all squished so she can fit everything in.

She writes like she talks, all rambling enthusiasm, and Steve cherishes every word.

He can tell she’s having so much fun. She enthuses about little cafés she’s found, a bookstore near Notre Dame; she spends multiple pages on art galleries, how she has the time to wander, to look at a painting again and again until the meaning reveals itself, it was like when I solved that ‘crossword’ in the mall, it suddenly just clicked, you know? I need you here next time, you’ll look at it from another angle, I wanna know what you think.

She sends Polaroids, too. There’s one of her in a white shirt with a trilby hat at a jaunty angle—Steve can tell she’s been in the sun, because there’s freckles all over the bridge of her nose. On the back of the photograph, she’s written Had a carefree kiss!

And Steve cries when he reads it, because he knows what it means: that Robin’s often spoken wistfully about how she’s never got to have that fleeting summer kind of love, where nothing is all that serious.

But she’s still so young, and life is finally light, and she gets to have it now.

Other photographs are sent to Eddie, with instructions that he should translate the French Robin’s written on them, à force de pratique, on y arrive, mon cher Édouard!

“I said literally once that French at school wasn’t, like, the worst,” Eddie says, pouting. “Didn’t realise that meant she was gonna torture me from across the world.” He frowns at a picture of Robin petting a grey cat, a bowl of food at its little paws. “And I tried translating whatever the fuck she’s written here, but I can’t work it out.”

“Not even a guess?” Steve says.

“I mean, yeah, but it sounds so stilted, man, I know it’s wrong. Like, who actually says where the silver cat feeds—you dick, stop laughing! What’s so funny?”

Two months pass, and Robin’s back soon, but not soon enough to catch Steve’s birthday. It’s not like he wants to have a huge party, anyway—he goes to Wayne and Eddie’s for dinner, and discovers Dustin leading a not-so successful ‘secretly bake a birthday cake,’ meeting at Max’s.

Everyone’s on their second slice of cake when the phone rings, and Steve knows instantly who it is from the way Eddie shouts, “Huh? What?”, like there’s a delay on the line. Then he beams and shouts, “Steve! Got a long distance call for you.”

Steve’s over in a flash.

“I promise I’ve got you something,” Robin says, slightly muffled—every so often a word will cut out, but Steve gets the gist. “I swear, I’m not awful, I was gonna post it, but then I had no idea how many stamps I’d need, and I didn’t wanna risk losing it forever to, like, the nightmare limbo of customs, so I thought when I come back, I can—”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Steve laughs, “you didn’t need to get me anything. This is the best present ever.”

“Oh, gross,” Robin says cheerfully. “You’re all sentimental in your old age. Happy Birthday, Steve.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, and the lump in his throat is back, but it’s not so bad; he can breathe through it. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And then there’s a sound that Steve at first thinks is just from the bad quality of the line, but then he realises it’s Robin trying to stifle a yawn; “Wait, Jesus, isn’t it, like, two in the morning over there? Go to bed!”

She doesn’t listen, of course—they keep chatting, everyone in the room wants a turn on the phone, Robin teasing Eddie relentlessly for his French pronunciation.

And as Steve ends the call, he finds that the hurt of missing her has faded away into something else—knowing that there’ll be comings and goings in their lives all the time, adventures they’ll share and adventures they won’t. But they’ll always, always find their way back to one another.

Steve sets the phone into its cradle, pictures Robin doing the very same so many miles away.

Yeah, we’re gonna be just fine, you and me, Steve thinks, and feels the certainty of it right in his bones.

#steve and robin #steve and robin fic #steve and robin ficlet #robin buckley fic #steve harrington fic #eddie and robin #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #background steddie

2K notes · View notes

ed-wwarren · 1 year

Text

When Ed said he loved sports that might have been an understatement. For him, there were three things in life and they were God, fixing cars, and sports. Not necessarily in that order. Growing up, he didn’t have the easiest home life. His father, the asshole, was verbally abusive and liked to dabble in the physical abuse when he got drunk so his mother, the angel, would make sure Ed was out of the house as much as she could.

So, when he wasn’t at school or working at the local theater, he was volunteering at church, at practices and games, or fixing people’s cars for free just for the fun of it.

But while he was still in high school, he was going to live up the sports. He would be able to work a job, volunteer at church, and fix cars the rest of his life but he knew after high school, sports were over so he dedicated a lot of his time to that. He was smart but didn’t have a desire to go to university so this was it for him. His senior year.

He had a sport for every season too. In the fall, he was a football guy. In the winter, he was all about the swim meets, and in the spring he was always outside playing baseball.

The funny thing about it though, he didn’t consider himself to be a jock. He understood what the word meant and he knew that’s what the whole school would refer to him as, but he didn’t think he fit into that stereotype. He had friends that absolutely did but they weren’t his close friends. Especially not the jocks who acted like jocks. The ones that would bully other kids or just be arrogant assholes. It made him sick.

School was already underway and it was getting towards the end of winter which meant there were only going to be a few more swim meets before they got into the spring and started baseball. Ed was at his locker getting books for his next class when he saw Natalie, one of the cheerleaders, making her way over to him. He sighed and stuck his head back in his locker pretending to be looking for a book. He was not the biggest fan of this girl. She was constantly hitting on different guys at the school and when one wouldn’t pay her any attention or she got bored, she would moved onto the next. It never ended.

“Hey, Ed,” Natalie cooed with a grin, moving close to him. “I can’t wait to see you at the swim meet today,” She said slowly, her eyes traveling bluntly down to his crotch. What she meant to say was, she couldn’t wait to see him in the tiny speedo they had to wear.

Ed slowly looked over at her and gave her a small smile. “Hey. Yeah, it’ll be umm…kind of weird. It’s my last one ever.”

“Oh,” Natalie said with a pout. “Well, I’ll be cheering for you. I hope it’s a good one.”

As she walked away, she brushed her hand along his arm and grinned. It made Ed shiver but not in a good way.

@giftedclairvoyance

2K notes · View notes

woso-dreamzzz · 6 months

Text

Shirt Swap III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Aitana Bonmatí x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Aitana gets the video

She's halfway through the gym session, relaxing back and laughing with Keira when she gets the message.

Well, she gets a lot of messages and each one causes her smile to get wider and wider.

"What is it?" Keira leans over to look at Aitana's phone, just as Aitana flicks onto the picture of you standing against the wall, smiling widely while wearing Keira's England jersey.

You're grinning like you've just won the lottery, not quite fully looking at the camera, just to the side of it where Aitana assumes Pernille is taking the picture. Magda is half in frame too, head turned to smile fondly at you.

"Is that why you wanted my shirt?" Keira asks, staring at the picture," She's a cute kid. Who is she?"

"That's Harder and Eriksson's kid."

Both Keira and Aitana jump as Alexia's voice sounds behind them. She's standing just a bit away, leaning over the pair to look at Aitana's phone too.

"I've met her before. Once when they were on holiday and at that Champion's League final we had against Chelsea. She's a sweet kid."

"So sweet," Aitana confirms, nodding her head as she flicks to a picture of you wearing Caro's Norway shirt - complete with Magda's pursed lips.

She flicks through all of the pictures, one for each jersey she sent. It's clear that they were all taken one after the other and it's fun to watch Magda's reaction to each one (the Norway national jerseys garnering a pinched look from the woman). Your wide smile never dims, though it does seem to get brighter when you wear certain jerseys.

"There's a video," Keira points out.

Aitana clicks play.

The camera remains unfocused and blurry for a moment before it's wiped clean and points towards you. You're wearing Keira's England shirt and still smiling, tugging at the hem. Your head is tilted to the side and Aitana can just pick out the low murmur of a different language (Danish or Swedish, she doesn't know) before you're fully looking at the camera.

"Thank you, Aitana!" You say.

"For?" That's Pernille's voice.

"For my new jerseys! Thank you!"

You tilt your head again, peering at something just behind the camera. There's another murmur of a foreign language which you reply happily too.

Magda comes into the frame, laughing and shaking her head fondly as she suddenly hoists you up onto her hip.

It's like neither of you has realised that the camera is still rolling because Magda blows raspberries on your cheeks as you try to push her away, shrieking with laughter.

Pernille laughs too, from behind the camera and her hand appears in the frame to rest on Magda's hip.

The video cuts out there and Aitana can't help but smile.

Keira's smiling too and so is Alexia.

"I've never met their kid," Keira says finally," I've seen her on the bench when I used to play against Chelsea. I didn't realise that she likes to collect jerseys so much."

"Pernille was telling me that she's a big fan of yours, which, apparently, says a lot."

Keira's face goes a little red and Alexia laughs.

"Send her a picture," Alexia says," It's only fair."

Aitana squeezes next to Keira, who's still got a red face. Alexia leans down to get into the frame too, teasingly poking at Keira's face.

"Smile for your biggest fan."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

726 notes · View notes

auteurdelabre · 1 month

Text

SO MUCH TO LOSE part 10 - dark!Joel x f!reader

rating: 18+

words: 7.5k

TW: HEAVY EMOTIONAL CHAPTER. MENTIONS OF TRAUMA. Allusions to oral sex, m receiving, allusions to f/m penetrative sex.

a/n: I told y'all this chapter's a doozy. Well it is, but maybe not for the reasons you think. . . To me its one of the most important chapters of this whole story.

series masterlist

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

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

SO MUCH TO LOSE CHAPTER 10

You visit Maria the following week with a plate of cookies in hand. She’s the one to answer the door and you are relieved when you see that she is showered and dressed. Things must be improving. She brings you into a tentative hug when you arrive, urging you inside out of the fresh dusting of snow.

“Tommy has Douglas out for a little walk. I’ll make you a coffee.”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Just came to drop off some baking. I’m heading to Ellie’s later this week and needed to get some practice in. I haven’t done much baking lately and wanted to make sure I wasn’t rusty.”

You join her on the couch, watching as she wraps her hands tightly around her coffee mug. She takes tentative sips between munches of cookie. At the first bite she literally moans.

“This is so good.”

“Thanks. They were Charlotte’s favorite.”

Maria licks the crumbs from her lips before leaning back on the sofa. She’s always been slender and she looks almost as she did back before she gave birth, except for the small pouch at her lower belly. You think she looks better with it.

“Was Charlotte your daughter?”

“Oh no. I never had kids.”

“We’re you ever married?”

“Me?” you almost laugh. “No.”

“Oh,” Maria blinks and her mouth tugs to the side. “I thought you might be. You have a nurturing quality about you.”

“I think you give me too much credit.”

Maria grins, taking another bite of cookie. The two of you chat amiably a bit about the changing weather, of the way the inhabitants of Jackson City get along so well. Of how she feels the pressure of being Jacksons’ ‘First Lady’. Of how the bandits that fuck with the dam that supports the city stresses her daily.

“It’s a fucking nightmare some days,” she cites with a grumble. “Thank goodness for Tommy.”

“He’s a good man,” you tell her.

“He is,” she smiles indulgently before shooting you a lingering look. “What do you think about Joel?”

“How do you mean?”

“You do patrols with him, right?”

“Can’t say I was always his biggest fan,” she says, taking another sip from her mug. “But he’s grown on me.”

“Yeah.”

You hold in the scoff that’s already begun in your throat.

“My friend Jennifer seems to think he’s pretty wonderful,” you offer instead. “She was delighted to help him repair the window last week.”

“She the blonde one? Used to do textiles?” Maria knows everyone thanks to her position.

“Yeah.”

“Not his type,” Maria insists with a shy grin. “She’d eat him alive.”

Jennifer doesn’t seem like she would eat anyone alive.

“Joel is all harsh edges,” she explains when she sees your confusion. “He needs someone soft to balance him out. That Jennifer girl is hard.”

You don’t think that you would consider Jennifer hard and you don’t fight Maria on it because the conversation quickly turns to Jackson’s continued increase of population, the place swelling with new life.

“Plenty of single men,” Maria says with a quirked brow in your direction. You give a soft laugh.

“Not really interested.”

“Single women too.”

“No no,” you laugh again, cheeks pinking. “I like men, I just . . . I don’t think I’m the partnering type.”

You think of Luke and his sweet features and his muscled forearms. For him you could perhaps be the partnering type. Perhaps. The thought of romance appeals to you; it just doesn’t seem realistic at times. A crush feels fun and safe.

“You must have had your share of dates,” Maria insists. You can see her relaxing and you think she must be enjoying what she views as girl time. You think she must not have had much of it lately.

“Normal crushes and stuff,” you shrug. “But I was a late bloomer and then the outbreak started when I was a teenager so I didn’t have a chance for a lot of firsts back then.”

“Sex,” Maria nods.

“Uh yeah… that…” you say, trying to appear nonchalant. “And uh, kissing, dating, all that stuff.”

“But you did eventually,” Maria cites smiling.

“Sex? Oh yes,” you nod. You weren’t a monk or anything in your time before Jackson City.

“What was your first time like?” Maria settles back against a cushion, nibbling at her cookie looking at you eagerly. “I remember mine was all fumbling in the backseat of his truck before curfew.”

You laugh and think Maria must be starved for company to be intrigued by your limited romantic experience.

“Uh… fast,” you say with a laugh before allowing yourself to be transported back to that time. “He worked at one of the bakeries that I assisted in. I remember he had the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen on a man. They were so blond you could only see them if he turned at a certain angle. He made me laugh. One night he invited me back to his apartment and… that was that.”

“How old were you?”

“Uh, twenty two, twenty three?”

“And you didn’t date after?”

“Nah, my family left that QZ kinda in a hurry.”

You aren’t expecting your voice to hitch on that last sentence, but it does. Maria grows somber, her dark eyes expressive.

“Can I ask why you left?”

You blink back the sheen of tears starting and gaze around the room, trying to land on something that will steel you. You find it in the small carving of a horse on the bookshelf nearby. You tell your story to that delicately made creature instead.

“We moved east through the QZ’s for about ten or eleven years. Stayed in a few of them before we’d pick up and keep moving to the next one. Hard to make connections and date with all that. I didn’t trust that I’d have the time.”

Maria looks like she wants to ask more when the door is opened and Tommy’s cheerful voice rings out announcing he and Douglas are home and ready for lunch.

“We have company!” Maria says cheerfully.

Tommy turns the corner to see you and he greets you. He wears Douglas strapped to him with fabric, snuggled under his large jacket. Jackson is sleeping soundly and barely notices when Tommy unwraps and hands him off to his mother.

Douglas squirms, his tiny head burrowing into Maria’s neck. She smiles and for the first time you’ve known her it looks sincere. There is a lightness in the house you realize, something that had been missing before.

“He enjoyed being out in the fresh air,” Tommy announces. “Everyone who saw him wanted to kiss him.”

“Tommy!” Maria looks horrified.

“But I didn’t let ‘em,” Tommy finishes, pressing a gentle kiss to his wife’s worried brow. “I’m gonna make some soup. You two want a bowl?”

“I’m alright,” you say. “I just brought by dessert. I’m actually heading over to Ellie’s to do some baking.”

“Joel’s letting you use his place to bake?”

You still, brows raised. “Uh… yeah. Is that… should I not be?”

“No, I’m just surprised,” Tommy admits after a pause. “I don’t think he’s ever let anyone in that house aside from me and Maria. Think the only reason he and Ellie don’t kill each other is ‘cuz she’s in the garage.”

“Oh.”

You don’t know what else to offer besides that.

Tommy nods and for a moment you see something in his expression, a pinched look when Maria looks away from him. You realize that Tommy looks harried, running a hand through his glossy curls.

“What’s up?”

“Nothin’,” Tommy replies too quickly.

You see the panic in his eyes as his gaze darts from his wife back to you. You understand immediately. Maria is doing well, if there’s something stressful in Jackson City he doesn’t want to bother her with it.

“Thanks for the tea Maria, but I better head out,” you inform them both.

Maria wraps you into a side hug, one arm around your shoulders, the other holding her son. You run your knuckles down his spine gently.

“Come back soon,” she whispers.

“I promise.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Tommy says, feigning manners. The two of you walk to the front door around the corner. As you toe on your boots you look up at him expectantly.

“Well?”

Tommy looks over his shoulder anxiously before dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper only you can hear.

“Rumor is Raiders were spotted by A Patrol this week,” Tommy says with a sigh. “Up by the traps.”

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Really?”

“Not positive. A Patrol isn’t always the most reliable. They spook easy and are overly cautious. But I’d rather that than the alternative.”

“Of course.”

“Just make sure you and Joel are extra cautious,” Tommy says. “I know you’re both responsible but, you know…. Just be extra responsible.”

You nod, feeling your heart thrumming in your chest as you make your way to Rancher Street.

///

You didn't really want to go to Joel's house today. But Ellie had found you last night heading home from The Tipsy Bison and had guilted you into it when she told you that Joel had brought back all the supplies needed.

You'd tried to sway her into baking at your place but only the burners on your oven work. You'd never really considered getting the main oven fixed, since you take most of your meals in the dining hall.

But in moments like this, you heavily regret that choice.

You feel like even your footsteps sound timid as they make their way up the wood steps.

Ellie is at the door, pulling it open before you can even knock. She must have been looking for you at the window, counting down the seconds until your arrival. The thought warms you. She gives you a broad smile that lights up her face.

"I got everything set up!"

She takes off down into the kitchen and you venture into the Miller home tentatively, still anxious about what happened last time.

A sound to your right draws your attention and you take in the tall form of Joel coming into the room. He's dressed in jeans and a sweater, obviously feeling the chill despite the cheery fire that roars behind him.

"Mornin'," he greets.

"Morning." You lick your lips nervously. "Thanks for letting me bake with Ellie."

"'Course. She's been looking forward to it for weeks. Can't stop talkin' about it.'

Joel gives you a whisper of a smile but the thing that really throws you about this interaction is that he looks almost nervous. You've never seen Joel look nervous.

He'd been so stiff after last patrol, not even saying goodbye to the group after you'd all disembarked off the horses.

It had been embarrassing. Him storming off like you'd all done something wrong. Only Jennifer seemed to still be under Joel's spell citing that watching him hammer the window would fuel her fantasies for months to come.

You're still really irritated with him but it's lessened slightly because his greeting isn’t hostile. You could almost relax if it weren’t for the intense way he’s staring at you.

You hear your name being called by Ellie in the next room so you toe off your shoes and head into the kitchen. She's got an apron on, borrowed from the kitchen or Joel because it's far too big for her small frame.

"Alright," you give her a warm smile as you enter. "You got everything?"

"Yep."

You place the bag you brought on the counter. You remove your own apron, baby blue with ruffles on the end. A recent gift from Jennifer who told you “since you’re a real chef you need your own apron”. You tie it as you speak to Ellie.

"So what I like to do is set up all my supplies on the counter just to double check I have everything. Nothing worse than being halfway through a recipe and finding out you you’re missing ingredients."

The sentence isn't even out of your mouth before Ellie’s opened up her cupboards and ice box and begun to take everything out. Flour, eggs, bowls, milk and more, all the items you gave Joel on the list. She places them on the counter before looking at you like a proud student.

"You'll need measuring spoons."

The two of you turn at the same time to see Joel standing by the entrance to the kitchen, lingering. His hands are in his jean pockets, standing like a chastised student outside the classroom.

"I brought some," you inform him, trying to hold in your irritation. You pull them from your bag, putting them next to the eggs.

You feel Joel's eyes on your back and you're sure he's silently judging you, eager to point out what you're doing wrong. You stiffen under the perceived scrutiny. Ellie must sense the change in the room because she whips around to shoot him a jeering look.

"Joel you don't need to supervise," Ellie says rolling her eyes. "We won't break the damn stove."

Joel looks at his feet mumbling something about needing to do stuff upstairs anyway before he's making his way out of the kitchen.

You go back to your lesson with Ellie who turns out to be a very focused student.

She asks smart questions, measures everything perfectly and takes her time. It's only when you put her in charge of cracking three eggs into the bowl that she gets frustrated.

"Fuck, it cracked wrong. Shell got in."

Her fingers pinch into the egg bowl, trying to grasp the fallen eggshell. Of course the viscous nature of the raw egg makes it impossible and it’s not long before she pushes at the bowl angrily, her face is set into a deep frown.

“S’fucking bullshit.”

"Happens all the time," you tell her kindly. "Don't stress about it. I’ll show you a secret my mom taught me and my sister to get ‘em out."

Ellie watches as you take the empty shell half still in her hand. Her brows knit in confusion as you lower it into the bowl, using it as a scoop. Unlike with her fingers, the egg shell piece floats easily into the makeshift scoop. You pull the shell from the bowl, tossing the mess into the garbage.

“Holy shit that actually worked.” Ellie smiles at this and it transforms her pale pinched features into that of a warm, approachable teenager.

You smile, feeling strangely proud. You’ve never baked with anyone else before, aside from the kitchen. But that was following the same boring recipes given by the head chef. You were usually boiling rice, cutting onions or apples. Baking is a different beast, a calmer, more relaxing one.

After that hiccup Ellie is more patient with herself. She's keen to learn about baking but she's very eager to talk to you about you. When you pop the formed pastries into the oven and set the timer she decides that now is the time to chat.

"What kind of music did you used to listen to before?"

Memories of Joel’s warning float in your mind. The reminder not to tell her too much. To make her long for a life that he can’t give her.

"Enough about me,” you deflect. “I want to know about you."

At this Ellie balks slightly, the smile wavering just a fraction before the mask is replaced and she nods. Her mixing increases but now her eyes are on the batter.

"Whadda you wanna know?"

"What was your life like before Jackson?"

"I was in the QZ back in Boston,” she says slowly, as if she's trying to make sure she doesn't give too much away. "Hated it."

"Parents?"

"Never met 'em."

"What brought you to Jackson City?"

"Joel."

She doesn't offer you more or less than that. You understand it, you don't push it.

"How'd you end up here?" She asks, mixing the dry ingredients.

You realize the stupidity of you asking her those questions. How easily you opened them to be doubled back on yourself.

"You asked me what kind of music I listened to before?" You smile, hoping that this will distract her. "I remember I saw Chicago about a billion times," you laugh. "I was obsessed. I listened to the soundtrack over and over."

"Chicago," Ellie says slowly as if trying to recall before a light seems to go on. "Oh, I've heard of Chicago. Joel likes ‘em."

Them?

It takes you a minute to understand what she's talking about. You finally answer giggling.

"Chicago the musical, not the band. The musical had great songs. And dancing."

"Do you dance?"

"Not very well."

Your dual laughter combines and you can't help but enjoy the sound. Ellie really does make you laugh. She reminds you of how life was before. When everything seemed new.

You can tell Ellie wants to know everything about your life before the outbreak. And you want to indulge her but Joel's words rub their imprint on your the inside of your skull.

"Hey I promised your D- Joel that I wouldn't keep talking about this stuff with you," you explain quietly. "He's worried it makes you want stuff you can't have."

"Jesus," Ellie says rolling her eyes. “Overprotective much?”

"No he's right," you insist truthfully. "I mean, I get where he's coming from. He doesn't wanna keep disappointing you."

"Joel could never disappoint me."

The timer goes off and you peer into the oven. The pastries are a golden brown. You smile before taking them out with the oven mitt. Ellie closes her eyes, inhaling.

"They smell so good."

"Just wait until you put icing on them," you encourage with a grin. "Delicious."

The two of you get to work making the icing while the pastries cool.

"It's gonna snow," Ellie comments out of nowhere as she peers out the window, mixing idly.

"Hate to break it to you, El, it's already snowing."

Ellie gives you a smirk along with her side eye. You don't know if it's from your sarcastic comment or the fact that you called her El.

"I mean I think it’s gonna snow a lot." She explains. "I heard some of the other kids talking about it at school."

"Huh," you offer noncommittal as you look at the consistency of the icing. "Wonder how they can tell."

"They said they could smell it," Ellie says with a grin, pushing up the sleeve of her shirt so that it doesn't drip into the icing bowl. "They said tha-"

You can't hear anything she's saying after that. All you can focus on is her now bared arm and the ugly bite mark. Blood rushes in your ears and you cry out before giving a blood curdling shriek.

“No!”

Ellie jumps, startled at your sudden screams. She throws herself back against the wall, eyes wide and glancing around as if she expects hordes of infected to come streaming in.

"What? What is it?"

You know she's never seen you be loud, never seen you scream and the sight must terrify her.

But all you can focus on is the clear outline of bite marks on her forearm visible after she rolled up her sleeves. The clear sign of an infected’s mark. She’s going to turn into a clicker before your eyes. She’s going to become soulless and inhuman and you need to go. You need to get somewhere safe.

Joel. He’ll be so devastated.

You can hear the heavy footsteps of Joel approaching the kitchen but all you can think of is escaping and getting yourself safe. You have to warn the town. You run towards the front door, your socks slipping over the smooth floor.

You're still screaming incoherently, your voice cracking as you lunge for the doorknob, tears in your eyes. Your hand closes around the brass knob just as two muscled arms go around your waist, pulling you back harshly. A hand covers your mouth and a deep voice is at your ear.

"Quit," he repeats, shaking you slightly in his arms. "Stop screamin'."

There's an increasingly paranoid thought that believes this was all a trap. A way for Joel to get his daughter fed. You feel it, Joel's arms wrapped around your entire body, pinning your arms to your sides. His body is warm and solid behind you, terrifying in its strength. It takes you to a time you've tried to forget.

"Get the fuck off of me!" You shriek against his palm, trying to wriggle out of his grip but he holds firm. You're screaming expletives, trying to kick out. You shake his hand off your mouth. "She's bit, Joel! I saw it!"

Ellie hasn't moved from where she stands cowering in the corner of the kitchen. But you can only imagine how soon it will be before she turns. You can't be here for that. You can’t watch that sweet girl turn into one of them.

"I know," Joel rumbles against your temple, hands still gripping you tightly.

"You know," you repeat and now a dread begins in your feet and floods the rest of you.

Joel knows she is bit. Joel welcomed you into his home knowing she was bit.

You are going to die.

"Let me go!"

High on fearful adrenaline you give a frantic kick backwards, elbowing into Joel's abdomen at the same time you thrust the ball of your foot onto his socked toes. Joel gives a strangled grunt and his arms loosen in pain momentarily allowing you a chance to break free from him.

You tug open the door and speed out without your boots. You feel the snow on the porch under your feet, freezing your toes immediately. You throw yourself down the porch stairs, feet slapping the wood as you hold back sobs. The street is deserted; the houses all empty as they usually are on bright Saturday afternoons. You go to cry out for someone, anyone, when Joel's arm bands around your waist.

You give a devastated howl of defeat before Joel is dragging your struggling frame back into the house, telling you to calm down.

Ellie is by the sink, her eyes on the ground.

But you still struggle, trying to get away from this house. Joel gives a frustrated growl before he pushes you up against the wall, pinning you there with his hips. His hands hold your wrists on either side of your head, pressing them into the wall.

"Stop fuckin' strugglin'," Joel seethes when you jerk against him, his chest pressing you so tightly to the wall you can't breathe.

"Please let me go," you beg brokenly as you continue to struggle in his arms. "Please I just-“

"She's immune," he rasps in your ear. "She's fucking immune! Stop!"

Immune. Immune.

"What?" You stop your screaming just long enough to twist your head to face him. "Immune? That's not possible."

But you’ve stopped struggling as hard.

You take a closer look at Ellie’s arm from where you stand, noticing that it doesn’t look particularly fresh. In fact it looks scarred. And yet something in you is still terrified. So terrified that you yelp when you feel Joel's wide hands go to either side of your face, forcing your face up and eyes to his.

"Everything is okay," Joel tells you in a husky rasp. "You're safe, I promise. I've got you. You're safe."

His eyes are locked with yours as he says this and you don't know how those words work their way into your body, but they do. The same way they wind around you as you allow yourself to get lost on patrols with your mouth on him. That sense that someone else is in charge, someone else is protecting you.

You're safe.

Your entire frame goes boneless in his arms and when he finally releases your face your head drops to your chest. He continues to press you gently against the wall with one heavy hand holding you there.

"What if it's slow acting or -" you whisper quietly, "or what if you can still pass it on with saliva or-"

"The dogs don't detect it," Joel tells you, his hold on you not lessening. "Ellie and I've shared drinks plenty a' times. She's immune."

You stare at the girl at the table, her entire countenance shifted. You can see the devastation, the fear and anger floods out of you immediately, like a deep sigh. You sag in Joel's arms, feeling as he slowly loosens you.

"She's had it for months," Joel tells you, no longer pinning you to the wall.

"Months?"

You're still stunned by the developments but it doesn't stop your eyes from traveling over to Ellie. You see now that tears are slipping off the end of her nose as she silently cries. She’s pulled her sleeve back down, covering the scar.

Your heart immediately breaks because it's you who did this to her. This girl who trusts so few. You treated her like she was a monster.

"Ellie I'm sorry, I just..." You trail off, your heart still beating wildly.

But Ellie has tears in her eyes, her neck blotchy. She's raced to the garage, slamming the door after her. You flinch at the sound of it.

Then it’s just you and Joel in the quiet kitchen.

"How long have you known?"

"Since I met her," Joel explains quietly. "Was bringing her to the fireflies with a friend in exchange for a battery. Rumor was there was a cure."

"Guess not if you're both here," you say absently, missing the pain in his dark eyes when you say it.

"Not a lot of people know about it. We'd like to keep it that way."

You nod, your mind whirring. You realize you've never seen Ellie in anything but long sleeves. Never seen her wearing bracelets or anything that would draw her attention to her arms. She’s been hiding in plain sight. You think of the friendships she hasn’t made, the way she keeps to herself, the hostile way she is with most and it all clicks into place.

"We were thinking of gettin' her a tattoo to cover it up,” Joel continues. “Haven't found anyone to do it yet."

You nod again, eyes falling on the pastries now lying squashed on the floor, the warm berries oozing out onto the wood.

“I’ll take care of this stuff,” Joel mutters, dropping to his knees and starting to pick up the supplies you brought. You think of how excited Ellie had been to recreate the pop tarts, how devastated she’ll be when she realizes they’re all ruined.

"I- I think I should go talk to Ellie."

"She doesn't wanna talk. Trust me."

"Just lemme try."

Joel looks as if he's about to protest but you're already walking quickly until you've reached the door to the garage. You knock gently.

"Ellie? It's me. Please don't be upset ... I was just startled."

There's a pause, then a sniffle that makes your heart lurch.

"Can we talk? Please, Ellie?"

You hear shuffling and then finally the door to the garage is opened a crack and you see Ellie peering through. Her eyes are swollen and red, the end of her nose pink. She glares at you through the small slit in the door.

"Fuck off."

"I just want to explain. Just let me explain and then I promise I'll leave."

She doesn't move, doesn't attempt to close or open the door. She just stands there like some sentry.

“Five minutes. That’s all I need.”

"You think I'm a freak."

"I don't," you insist, palm on the door as if you could transfer your emotions by osmosis to her. "Ellie I was having fun right before all this. I really was. Can we talk? Please? I want to explain properly."

Ellie’s glossy eyes scan your body and with a labored sigh she steps back, opening the door and allowing you entrance.

"Come in."

You follow her into the warm space, watching as she drops onto her made bed. Ellie hugs her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as you look at her. Ellie's eyes drag from the floor up to your face and you see her chin trembling as she holds in tears.

“Can I sit?” you ask motioning to beside her on the bed. She nods, shuffling to give you room to perch there.

“I know you’re not gonna come back after this,” Ellie says, eyes wide with a quiet pleading as you look over at her.

“Of course I am.”

“No you’re not,” Ellie says shaking her head and rubbing angrily at her eyes. “You’ve seen my arm. You think I’m a fucking freak.”

"Ellie I swear I don't think you're a freak," you emphasize as you shuffle on the edge of her bed. "I was just... That bite took me back to a really scary time."

"Yeah," Ellie says with her chin balanced on her kneecap. "No one wants to think about... All that stuff."

You see the desolation there in her eyes. She's hurt and even though you didn't mean to do it you did. You feel responsible for her sadness. Your eyes go to her closed door, wanting to make sure you have privacy before you turn back to her.

"Ellie, can I share some stuff with you?"

"Yeah.”

"It's not happy stuff," you tell her.

"Figured." Ellie shrugs again like it doesn't matter. Like she's seen it all. Maybe she has, but you doubt it. She doesn’t make eye contact with you.

“It’s just. . . I’ve never told anyone this stuff before. Ever.”

Ellie’s eyes go to your face now. She can see how serious you are and she straightens slightly. She goes from being hunched and holding her legs to sitting cross legged across from you on the bed.

"Okay..." You take a sharp inhale. “So, I was about your age when Outbreak Day happened. I was with my Dad and my sister. My mom was visiting my Aunt in Wyoming-“

“How come?”

“Ellie you gotta let me get this all out quick okay?” you say gently. “No interruptions.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you breathe deeply again. “She was visiting my aunt because my aunt was getting a divorce and my mom wanted to support her. Anyway, about ten years ago my dad and my little sister and I were travelling between QZ’s. We were looking for my Mom because my Dad was convinced she was still alive and she’d be out in this direction.”

You swallow; hating talking about this but knowing that Ellie deserves this truth. So far she looks intrigued, her eyes wide.

“So one night we were exhausted. We’d been travelling for days and we were low on food and water. We see this old cabin and it looks like it’s abandoned. We figure it’s a good spot to hunker down and get some energy before we keep going.” You exhale a shuddering breath.

“Except it wasn’t abandoned. It was a trap set up by this group of Raiders. I called them The Group. They killed my dad and they were gonna kill me and my sister when one of the guys had the bright idea that they could use us as bait.”

"Bait?"

Ellie seems to remember she’s not supposed to say anything because she ducks her head slightly.

"Yeah. they made us go into new places first," you explain detached, as if you’re talking about another woman in another life. "So if there was anything dangerous it would get us in enough time to give The Group a chance to escape.”

Ellie is staring at you wide-eyed, all her teenage ambivalence lost as you detail the most terrifying years of your life. You omit lots of the more gruesome details and you definitely don’t tell her about Rock River.

"Once they hung me from a tree," you tell her, trying not to sound emotional. It's not hard. Years of hiding how that part of your life affects you makes you good at it. "They tied me to a rope and hung me on a branch to attract clickers."

"Jesus."

"Yeah," you nod. "It worked really well. There was a big group and they piled underneath me, trying to grab at me, their mouths all black and their teeth gnashing and...” you stop yourself when you see Ellie’s eyes widening. “Anyway, The Group got ‘em all and managed to get some good supplies in the town because of it. I just... It just left me kind of..."

You wince when you realize you’ve trailed off, your focus blurred.

"The point is that when I saw your arm it just all came flooding back and I reacted out of instinct. Not because I think you're a freak. I could never think that about you.”

Ellie is quiet, digesting all that you've told her. You think you hear a creaking outside her door, but you're not sure. Your attention is drawn back to the girl who’s eyes hold such a myriad of emotions; pain, empathy, fear, anger.

"How did you end up here?"

You think about not telling her. But it feels so good to be getting some of this information out, like you’re coughing up a thick black piece of flesh that’s been festering in your lungs for years, making it so you can now finally breathe.

"One guy, Chiyo, he joined up with our group a few years after I was taken. He owned a shooting range before everything.... You know…. Well, he'd broken his ankle in a recent raid and couldn’t really move much. If we hadn't come upon him when we did he probably would have been killed by another group of raiders. But as it was he had this giant stash of weapons and The Groups ranks were thinning so..."

You trail off, thinking of how you'd come upon him first when you and The Group got to town. How the leader you thought of as Red due to his hair (you never learned their real names), shoved you brutally by the shoulder.

Always the bait.

But after what had happened only the week before you didn’t care anymore. Red pushed you and you entered willingly, your feet not even dragging as you walked. It was either be shot by one of The Group attempting to escape, or see what resided inside the shop with the boarded up windows.

Chiyo’s gun was trained on you the second you walked in. The way you held your hands at your eye level when he told you he was going to shoot.

“I’m gonna blow your head clean off if you take another step.”

And suddenly you’d decided that you were done. You were so tired. And at least this way it would be quick and it would be away from The Group. And so you’d taken another step towards Chiyo, hands still raised.

You can still recall the furrowing of his thick brows and the lowering of his weapon as he stared at you.

"You want to die?"

You hadn't answered him but that had been answer enough for Chiyo. He'd hobbled over to you, dragging his lame leg, dark eyes fixed on your face.

"I'm not gonna hurt you."

And when he'd said it, you'd believed him.

You remember the way you'd convinced the rest of The Group they needed someone like him. A crack shot, you told them. You'd had no idea of knowing if it was true. But there had been warmth in Chiyo's eyes that was missing from the rest of The Groups. Something that you clinged to in the coming months.

"Thankfully he was a really good shot,” you explain. “He joined up and we stripped his shop of his guns and eventually his ankle healed thanks to the medic in The Group and he was suddenly part of the team.”

“Was he nice to you?”

“Yeah. He was really kind. Whenever they used me as bait he insisted on going with. He said it was so we could save me for really bad missions, but I knew it was to protect me. They let him get away with it because he was such a good shot, I think. Everyone liked him. When the rest of The Group was asleep we'd talk by the fire. Chiyo was afraid of horses," you tell Ellie with a small smile. “Was about the only thing he was afraid of.”

You don't tell her everything. You don't tell of the tender way he fucked you in the wee hours of the morning before The Group rose most mornings. How he whispered that he missed his dead wife and would never dishonor her memory by kissing you. But you hadn’t minded, you understood and you’d both been gentle with each other.

You’d enjoyed getting lost in the sensation of him. Of his cock in your mouth, of your cunt stuffed full of him. The rhythmic sensation of sex that took you out of your body and away from your every day horrors.

You remember how he would hold you, tears sliding onto your collar as he spilled himself onto your belly whimpering his dead wife’s name. How he would thank you over and over with your hand at the base of his skull, mouth against his shoulder while you quietly sobbed your own gratitude.

"After a few months he told me he was escaping. He'd heard about Jackson City and that's where he was headed. He wanted to bring me to see if we could find my Mom."

"Holy shit,” Ellie breathes. “Where is he now?"

"He didn't make it," you tell her tightly.

And now the shield is back in your voice and eyes and she must sense it. Ellie doesn’t press this, seems to understand that there is more there. With a teenagers’ sensibilities and a teenager’s romanticism she asks you her next question.

"Were you in love with him?"

Chiyo is a faint memory, a watercolor blur if you think about him in too much detail. When you try to recall things like the scar over his left eyebrow or the dragon tattoo on his inner thigh. But these are just pieces of him. They aren't him.

When you think of Chiyo there is a warmth. But it's the warmth that comes from having a benevolent savior. One who never told you that you were in his debt. Yes, you cared for him. Of course you did. He was gentle and he was kind and his heart was soft.

"No," you say firmly. "He was nice though and I cared about him. Probably as close to love as I'll ever get."

You and Ellie are quiet for a long time.

“I tried saving a bit boy once,” she finally offers. “His name was Sam. Tried rubbing my blood on him. Thought it would save him. It didn’t. He turned and his brother had to kill him before he killed himself.”

You don’t allow yourself to cry. You know that isn’t what Ellie needs right now.

“I’m the reason so many people are dead,” Ellie explains when you say nothing in return. “My Mom died having me. Riley… Tess… Sam…Henry... Ellie’s voice is doing that same detached thing yours does. “Sometimes I honestly think it would be better if I was never born.”

You can’t help the way your arms leap out in front of you to gather the girl into your arms. She tries to fight you on it, flinching from the contact before your unrelenting arms pull her into a tight squeeze, tugging her into your lap. Angry tears slip down her red cheeks, her cries breaking free as you wrestle her into a bear hug.

“I’m so glad you exist, Ellie.”

And then all the fight is gone from her body and she’s sobbing quietly into your shoulder, her tiny frame shaking. You hold her against you, wanting your adoration and affection to move through your body into hers so she knows how much she’s wanted.

“The world would be so much worse without you in it,” you assure her honestly. “You’re special, Ellie. And not because you’re immune. Because you’re smart and brave and funny and you make people like me feel like we’re worth something.”

Her arms wrap around your neck, face in your shoulder and she allows you to continue holding her, rocking her gently in your lap as if she were your own teenage daughter.

“And yes you’re stubborn and you can be annoying,” you add, trying to lighten the mood. “But there’s no one I like talking to as much as I like talking to you. You made me look forward to breakfasts in the dining hall because it meant I got to speak to you.”

“You’re just saying that,” she sniffles, arms loosely circling your neck.

“You don’t like liars, right?” You remind her. “Well I’m not lying. Plus, I know Joel loves you and he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that loves many people so you must be pretty great.”

Ellie gives a shallow huff of amusement in your shoulder.

“And I know Maria and Tommy adore you just as much if not more than I do. And if you opened up a little more with the kids around here I know they’d love you just as much as we do because you’re a wonderful person. The world would be so much worse without your light, Ellie. You bring light to the darkness.”

You continue rocking her for several moments, waiting until her sobs turn into hiccups and then gentle swallows. Finally she pulls back from you, almost embarrassed at the emotional display. She shuffles back onto the bed, picking at the loose string hanging from her pillow.

“I think I’m cursed.”

“Hey now that’s not true,” you insist. “I’m here aren’t I? How is that a curse? If anything it’s a blessing.”

She gives you a weak smile that you return.

“C’mon, let’s go and finish the pop tarts.”

“We’ll have to start all over again,” Ellie almost whines.

“Then I guess I’ll be staying here a little longer.”

Ellie wipes at her blotchy face, running her hands down her cheeks before nodding and standing abruptly. You two make it back into the kitchen, surprised to see Joel standing there. His broad shoulders ripple as he works on something in front of him, his back to you.

Ellie sails over to him, her eyes wide when she sees what he’s done. “Wait are those the pop tarts?”

“Yep.”

“I thought they were ruined.”

“Yours were,” Joel shrugs, spreading icing onto one of the homemade pop tarts. “Mine went okay.”

You feel as if you’ve been physically pushed.

Joel baked?

Ellie snags one of the still warm pastries from the plate as Joel starts running the cloth over the counter and wiping the crumbs into the sink. You look at the joy on Ellie’s face as she takes a bite.

“Holy shit, Joel, these are so fucking good.”

“Language,” Joel admonishes over his shoulder, though there’s nothing harsh in it. He turns around, hip resting against the counter.

“I’m gonna have you do all my baking,” Ellie continues as if she hasn’t heard him. “I’ll just be your taste tester.”

You want to grin at this but all you can do is stare at Joel and the soft way he’s smiling down at Ellie. This open look of adoration you so rarely see. Like there’s this secret Joel inside the mean Joel shell that the privileged few witness.

Joel could never disappoint me.

Joel seems to feel your eyes on him because he blinks over at you, dark eyes darting around your face. His expression is unreadable, but there’s nothing cruel or cold in it. He’s just looking at you, almost as if he’s trying to figure you out as well.

“Well looks like we’re all set here so I should go,” you start awkwardly, suddenly feeling strangely light headed. Joel steps towards you, brows rising.

“You could stay for a dr-“ Joel begins, but you’ve already made your way to the front door, pulling on your boots and jacket.

Your hands are trembling for some reason and you think it must be all this emotional turmoil you’ve shared with Ellie. It has you feeling vulnerable and exposed and you want to escape home to the safety of your bed, away from soulful brown eyes and soft smiles.

“Ellie you wanna grab breakfast before patrols?” you ask, studiously ignoring Joel who stands next to her looking at you. You don’t want her to think you’re rushing off and forgetting about her.

“Sure,” Ellie says brightly before motioning to the plate of pastries. “You want any of these to go?”

“Nah, you enjoy them,” you insist with a flash of a smile. “You worked hard.”

You don’t look backwards as you rush out the door of their home and down the sidewalk of Rancher Street, convinced you can feel Joel’s dark gaze on you the entire way.

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

secondary a/n: The other parts I wanted to include in this chapter were gonna bloat this installment into over 10k and I wasn't even finished so I had to break it up!

CHAPTER 11 SPOILERS BELOW THE JOEL

in chapter eleven there be smut.

TAGLIST:

@casssiopeia

@getitoutofmymind

@joeldjarin

@elegantduckturtle

@cosmic006533-blog

@orcasoul

@la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@valkyreally

@multiversed-daydreamer

@deninoe

@ashleyfilm

@missladym1981

@questionablemay

@noisynightmarepoetry

@eddiesxrings

@know-that-its-delicate

@onlyyoucan-getme

@cosmic006533-blog

@harryscum

@confusedpuffin

@koshkaj-blog

@puduvallee

@locaparapedrito

@guelyury

@sofiparallel

@maryrhodalouandted

@questionablemay

@kateg88

@friskispunk

@mewantpeepaw

@cuteanimalmama

@alma-rt1

@marisemonteiroo

@thedisagreeablegirl

@olafsmiles2020

@survivingandenduring

@sofiparallel

@bitchesuntitled

@r4vens-cl4ws

266 notes · View notes