#so many disney mugs
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Heroes vs. Villains : The Staff [Part 2]
Platonic GN!Reader x NRC Staff vs. RSA Staff
Word Count: 3.1k
Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. NRC Staff Version (Part 2: Crewel and Crowley)
ie. Mr. Rogerson has awesome dalmatians and his wife makes even better cookies. Meanwhile, Crewel continues to be an emotionally constipated mess, and Crowley is... himself.
[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]
You were met at the door by a pair of over enthusiastic dalmatians—the chaotically cute duo sending you ass-first to the office floor in a merry greeting that was more of a graceless tackle than anything else.
“You brought Poe and Perdy!” you exclaimed, laughing past the face kisses.
“Well, they’d never forgive me if I didn’t,” Mister Rogerson huffed good naturedly. “Do you know how much this little nutter cried when I came home the other day and he realized you’d been by? Ages, I’m telling you. Thought he was going to pout me into an early grave.”
You squished both of them affectionately and showered the lovely, spotted, beasts with every compliment under the sun.
“Oh! Before I forget…” the professor rustled around in his leather messenger bag and retrieved a neatly packaged pastry box all bundled up in a colorful, twine, bow. You accepted the treats happily and removed yourself from the dog-pile to take your usual place on the well-worn piano bench. “Annie made you some more cookies, seeing as you liked the last ones so much.”
“Did you help?” you asked.
“Hmm? What makes you say that?”
You held up the first treat from the pile—half-singed on one side and squishy with raw dough on the other.
“You caught me!” he laughed, and retrieved a second box. “These are from Annie. Those are my failures.”
“Such horrible lies,” you tutted, dramatic. “Trying to trick an innocent victim into ingesting poison just so that you can keep all the good ones for yourself.”
“Hey, they’re not that bad!” he defended, taking a large chomp out of one of the less charred looking of his creations. Immediately his cheeks went nearly green. “Or… maybe they are.”
You pushed a water bottle in his direction which he accepted gratefully. There was always a stash of them just to the left of his composer’s stand, and another hoard in a conspicuous looking storage cube closer to the piano at which you’d perched yourself. There were more sweets hidden in his desk drawers too, for when something stronger than water was needed to wash away whatever awful thing he’d tried to ingest. You knew where a lot of ‘secret’ things were in this room. It felt nice, to be so privy to all its little treasures.
“You know,” he smiled, finishing the last of his water with a final gulp. “Annie keeps pestering me to have you come by for dinner.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose,” you hesitated, looking around the room where so many of your little odds and ends had already started to accumulate. Empty mugs, the patch that had fallen off your jacket, the thread which you’d intended to use to fix said patch. Just… little footprints showing you’d been by. “Well, any more at least.”
“Nonsense,” Mister Rogerson laughed. “You’re more than welcome! But we don’t mean to pressure you, of course! Especially if you’re busy! Just something to think about if you’d like. Anyways, how has your day been?”
And thus began your afternoon ritual. You would sit and split Annie’s delicious cookies as you rambled about your various grievances. Mister Rogerson would inevitably come and take a seat beside you on the piano bench and start playing some gentle strains of this or that—‘just little things he was working on,’ he’d said. Occasionally you’d accidentally lean on the keys, throwing the whole thing into a cacophonous mess. But he would just chuckle and replay whatever the piano had just screeched, calling it a ‘fascinating addition’ and merrily jotting bits of it into his notes. It was nice. Better than nice. And you didn’t realize just how comfortable you’d become in your daily chitchats until you’d become perhaps a bit too comfortable.
“It’s just been so exhausting. And on top of all the other ridiculous things, I’m so sick of that fact that it’s like my job to be their personal punching bags or whatever when they’re Overblotting all over the place, and—”
The piano cut off abruptly.
Mister Rogerson’s hazel eyes had gone wide, as if he was spooked. Immediately you realized that you’d said something that you should not have.
“There are students at Night Raven College who have Overblotted?” he asked, slow, like he couldn’t even believe the words were coming out of his mouth.
“What? No. Of course not!” you lied, like a liar.
“Kiddo,” he frowned, stern. “You just said—"
“—I mean, no one’s actually Overblotted, Overblotted,” you spluttered hastily, rifling frantically through your brain for every plausible excuse you could cough up. “It’s more that I’ve heard a lot about Blot, and how it becomes a—you know—Overblot. Which sounds really scary, and like something that I never, ever, want to actually see! And it’s just that everyone there is a mess, so I guess I should I have said that I’m more just worried about Overblotting.”
A pause.
“Which, again, I’ve never, ever, actually seen.”
More silence.
“…Ever.”
Mister Rogerson sighed, apparently relieved by your bullshitting, and slumped forward over the piano keys.
“That’s… That’s good. You really scared me there for a moment, kiddo. Overblots are no small matter. They have to be reported to the proper authorities and dealt with accordingly. It’s a whole fiasco, and paperwork and legal proceedings aside, it’s dangerous.” He laid a gentle hand across your shoulder. “I’m just glad you haven’t been anywhere near something like that.”
You swallowed a chunk of wayward cookie, hoping you didn’t look horrifically guilty. But then some other part of what he’d just rattled off stuck in your head and that shame was wiped away by panic.
“They’d be taken away?” you whispered, something unpleasant and nervous curling in your gut.
Mister Rogerson looked down at you with a sympathetic wrinkle to his brow. He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.
“I know it sounds scary, kiddo. But that’s what we have to do to keep everyone as safe as we can. Does that make sense?”
You thought of Riddle, crying into his hands after years of emotional neglect—and then of the pair of you sitting in the Heartslabyul gardens after all was said and done, eating strawberry tarts with your fingers like little children. You thought of Leona, miserable and bitter as he was, finally breaking after an entire lifetime of feeling like nothing but a failure who slunk about in his brother’s shadow—and then how just last week the beastman had been lounging in the sun with his head in your lap, grouchily demanding your leftovers. You thought of Azul, and his bullies, and his stupid desire to take on the world just to prove he could. You thought of all the friends you’d made, and of just how many of them really needed a goddamn therapist. You thought about them being taken away to who-even-knew-where. Where you’d probably never see any of them again. And where you wouldn’t even know what was happening to them.
General grumpiness with the lot of them aside, your friends were the one, genuine, beacon of warmth in this miserable, cold, new world. Sure, they were all assholes. Mega assholes. But you knew that they’d stand by you through anything—do anything, if you needed the help.
And the idea of giving up on them? Just like that? Because it was protocol?
Your stomach roiled and you set the cookies off to the side.
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” Mister Rogerson frowned, taking in whatever unpleasant expression was no doubt twisting your face into knots. “We shouldn’t talk about it anymore. It’s not a fun topic.” He slid a new page of sheet music across the piano’s sleek, black, shelf. “Here. I started writing this the other day. What do you think?”
Strains of upbeat jazz threaded through the room and Perdy and Poe came over to mouth playfully at your ankles—no doubt begging for crumbs. Soon enough you were laughing along, clapping off beat and making jokes at the expense of his nonsense lyrics. You still liked Mister Rogerson. You liked him a lot. And you didn’t doubt that he was a genuinely kind person.
You’d just… maybe have to be a bit more careful about what you let slip.
.
.
“It’s kinda like being in therapy,” you explained to a very frustrated looking Deuce. “Like, how you want to say just enough to get help but not enough for them to throw you into an asylum. You feel?”
“What in the fuck are you on,” Ace gaped.
“See, if any of you actually even knew what therapy was, you’d get it.”
“I still can’t believe that’s where you’ve been every afternoon,” Deuce frowned, poking at his lunch with a consternated sort of look on his face. “Don’t you—I don’t know…”
“What?” you asked.
“Feel horrifically guilty and maybe like you should be burnt at the stake?” Ace complained, reaching over to swipe a fry from your plate. Grim hissed and swatted at his fingers—his little mouth stuffed too full of your half-eaten burger to yell much of anything else. “You’re a traitor, that’s what you are. Prancing around with those goody-two-shoes in their stupid, shiny, building every damn day like a—like a—”
“A frog?” Deuce suggested.
“What, no. Dude—”
“Frogs prance!”
“Frogs fucking jump, you ingrate—”
A heavy box landed on the table with a THUD, sending the quarrelling duo into silence. A mountain of homemade chocolate chip cookies stared back at them, nearly sparkling in their brilliance.
“Yes,” you intoned, stern. “It’s worth it.”
“It’s worth it,” Grim and Ace agreed heartily, already busy swapping their lunches for sweets.
Deuce sighed and reached for his own cookie. “If you’re sure...”
.
.
Being called into the Headmaster’s Office was not something with which you were unfamiliar. In fact, Crowley not having summoned you into his gloomy chamber over the past few weeks was more of an anomaly than not. Normally he was hurling new jobs at you left and right—organize this event, Prefect. Pick up my groceries, Prefect. The main hall is looking a little dirty, Prefect. Go stop my students from committing mass murder, Prefect. Maybe your wave of insults had rattled him enough to leave you alone for that little while. Or maybe he’d just been biding his time until he could think of something equally as nasty to say back.
Of all the things you were expecting upon trudging back into that office, a scowling Professor Crewel was not one of them.
You blinked owlishly, taken aback.
“Good afternoon, Professor.”
His lip curled, sour, and you fought the intense and suicidal urge to ask him just who’d pissed in his cornflakes that morning because damn. You hadn’t even done anything. That you could remember. Maybe. And besides, if either of you had any right to be acting all bitter and pissy it was you. Not Mister ‘I Have No Intention of Playing Parent to Anyone.’ The memory had your eyes stinging and your blood boiling all over again. When neither of the men deigned to greet you, you cleared you throat irritably and crossed your arms.
“Can I help you with something, Professor? Headmaster?”
“It has come to our attention that you’ve been sneaking off campus in the evenings,” Professor Crewel declared, with all the civility of an off-grid hermit. “Which I’m certain that you are fully aware is against school policy.”
Crowley just nodded, stiff lipped and robotic, and his silence immediately had you suspicious.
“Well?” Crewel snipped. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
You took a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Then another.
You smiled, icy. “Then I’m sure this is just another infraction to add to my file. Which I’m very sure totally exists. Right, Headmaster?”
Crewel’s dark glower swiveled in Crowley’s direction, and you watched the Old Crow audibly gulp.
“Because of course, you keep proper records on all your students here,” you continued, happy to push your luck. “Especially the ones in special circumstances, and whose documentation is therefore not automatically forwarded to you by their previous schools. Right, Headmaster?”
You’d never seen a more apt demonstration of the expression ‘sweating bullets.’ It was intensely satisfying. Professor Crewel looked like he was heavily debating turning Crowley into a feather boa. After a too-long moment where you were pretty sure you were about to witness a murder, the two-toned professor sighed and turned back to you with a stiff sneer.
“It’s not safe,” he said, and you gaped at him.
“What?”
“It’s not safe,” he repeated, practically grinding his teeth. “What were you even thinking? Leaving Night Raven when you know full that you have no other connections in this entire world! Running off with a complete stranger on top of that.”
“Mister Rogerson isn’t a stranger!” you defended, resentment bubbling beneath your skin. How dare he? Now he cared? Now you weren’t just a leech, or a brat, or—or—No. It wasn’t fair. “And it’s not like I ran off into the woods or something! I’m at another school!”
Crowley slammed his clawed hands down onto his desk with a metallic BANG!
“AH-HAH! YOU ADMIT IT!” he howled. “YOU’VE BEEN GOING TO THE ROYAL SWORD ACADEMY BEHIND OUR BACKS!”
“I left you a note telling you that was exactly where I was!”
“YOU’VE BEEN CONSORTING WITH OUR ENEMY! AND AFTER I’VE WORKED SO HARD TO RAISE YOU AS MY OWN!” He wailed, inconsolable. “ARE YOU TRADING OFF MY GRIMOIRE TO AMBROSE, TOO? WOULD YOU STOP AT NOTHING TO SHATTER MY POOR HEART?!”
“I don’t even know what that means, but I wish I was!”
“Enough!” Crewel snarled, cracking his pointer across the desktop. “Both of you!”
“But he—!” you defended.
“Detention!” he barked.
“What?! That’s no fair!—”
“Detention!” he snapped again. “Three weeks!”
“Are you joking?! I didn’t even do anything!—”
“Four weeks,” he growled.
You pressed your lips shut, feeling your mouth wobble and your eyes warm with frustrated tears.
“Yes, sir,” you finally managed to grit out, and then turned without another word and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind you.
.
.
.
‘That may have been too much,’ Crowley had the gall to say to him, after Crewel had just watched the man have an entire meltdown in his desk chair and accuse you of outright subterfuge.
‘That may have been too much.’
The alchemist had watched, carefully stone faced, as your eyes had welled and you’d glared him down with a look that was a step or two past betrayed. Something tightened uncomfortably in his chest, and he refused to put a name to it. Naming things gave them power, allowed them to grow and spread. Like a tumor. This was all your own doing, and the subsequent punishment was clearly for your own good. So, what? He steps a bit too far and says something that’s perhaps just a bit too cold, and you go running off to—to Cliff Rogerson of all people? Pettiness is not an excuse for making poor, stupid, unsafe, decisions. And he would have certainly responded to any other student in exactly the same fashion.
‘That may have been too much.’
Crewel grit his teeth and fought the urge to run his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally he could use Badun as a stress ball, but he’d stopped bringing the dogs to campus when you’d continued to refuse to show up to his office. It had stressed them terribly, and it was unfair to force them to sit through the same, dull, solitude that he had to endure just on the off chance that you may change your mind and come wandering in. Jasper hardly acknowledged him at all anymore—only grumbled at him miserably when he returned in the evenings before curling up by the fireplace for the rest of the night.
‘That may have been too much.’
It… It really, probably, was. And he really should… apologize, shouldn’t he?
Divus Crewel could deny it all he liked, but he knew well and good that he wouldn’t have treated your classmates in such a manner. That unnamed twinge behind his ribs may have influenced his reaction a bit more than it should have, especially when he himself had so clearly relegated your place in his life to ‘by professional association only.’
So he forced himself to straighten his fur coat and start the trek to Ramshackle. It was a grueling walk, with broken pathways and rivers of mud. No wonder you were always running late to things. Perhaps he should bring this up to Crowley, and—
A familiar face stopped him in his tracks, and a wave of red-hot irritation worked its way through his veins as efficiently and viciously as one of the poisons he was so keen to brew.
“Oh,” Cliff Rogerson blinked back at him, “Divus! Good to see you.” It was not. It didn’t sound like Cliff thought it was either.“No need to call campus security or anything. I’m just here to pick up the Prefect for dinner.”
“Dinner?” Crewel repeated. It sounded bitter in his mouth.
“Annie’s making lasagna,” Cliff stage-whispered, like a secret.
“Can we get going?” you called and Crewel startled, noticing you off to the side for the first time. You looked so… small, for some reason. Hunched, maybe. Just, not your usual larger-than-life self—the Otherworldly Hero who showed up swinging to every fight, always armed to the teeth and ready to duel any monster, every horror. It made something in his gut twist unpleasantly. “I’m starving.”
“Of course, kiddo,” Cliff laughed and tossed an arm across your shoulders.
“How lovely,” Crewel interrupted, trying and failing to force the steel from his voice, “But I think that maybe you should reexamine your professional priorities. That hardly seems appropriate.”
“Oh, come now,” Cliff smiled. It wasn’t friendly. “It’s only dinner. And besides,” he chuckled, and gave your arm a fond squeeze, “Annie and I have always wanted kids.”
‘I have no intention of playing parent to anyone.’
A deep, cold, sort of dread rattled through Divus Crewel’s bones and settled all the way in the pit of his stomach. It was similar to the sensation that had been slowly clawing its way through him these past few weeks—the very same unpleasantness that he had refused to name.
‘You know,’ Crowley’s grating voice swam through his head once more. ‘That really may have been too much.’
.
.
#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#My Writing#NRC Staff#NRC Staff x Reader#Divus Crewel x Reader#Dire Crowley x Reader#The NRC Staff's Horrible Parenting#Heroes vs. Villains#Crewel x Reader#twisted wonderland OCs#twst ocs#Divus Crewel#Dire Crowley#Heroes vs Villains The NRC Staff Part 2
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illicit affairs
the one where Joel calls (kind of)
Summary: A week after you're back home in Seattle you get a visitor.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 1.649
Rating: T
Warnings: accidental pregnancy, angst, fluff, some heartbreak
A/N: Pick your own ending part one feat. Joel Miller
illicit affairs master list // Pedro Masterlist
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You tried to keep your expectations low.
A week after you came back home to Seattle and many talks with your friends later you accepted that you couldn’t change the situation from here.
Event though it was killing you inside.
Calling your mother and telling her everything on the phone was not what you wanted, even though it would be the easiest way because you wouldn’t be able to see how she reacted to the news.
But you couldn’t talk to her before you had talked to Joel.
You could call Joel.
You now had his number.
Your friend cyber stalked him and found the number of his company.
You had made your peace with being a single mother before you even ran back into Joel. So while him, now that he knew, seemingly not wanting to be involved was hurtful, it wasn’t the worst.
You had your friends. Your colleagues. And you had Sean.
Sean had called you every single day, trying to keep you in the loop of life back in Austin. Though he hadn’t talked to your mother in two days.
Today you had spent wearing your most comfortable sweater, eating nothing but Cheese (you would regret that later, but the craving was real) looking at new potential apartments in the area. You needed a bigger apartment, a room for your baby.
On your next appointment you would learn the gender and you were beyond excited.
You could do this by yourself. You would do this by yourself.
Of course you had dreamed about having your own family growing up. You had dreamed about meeting your prince and getting married. Having babies and be happy forever.
But you were five years old back then and seriously influenced by Disney movies.
You had learned that Disney movies were not the real life by now, which frankly sucked.
Absently you checked your phone, wondering where your order of cheese pizza you placed an hour ago was, when there was a knock on your door.
„Finally,“ you cheered to yourself, grabbing the money for your pizza. You shuffled through your apartment in your cosy socks, one of your hands on your belly that had somehow popped in the last two days.
You opened the door, expecting your pizza, but it was
„Joel,“ you gasped in surprise.
Joel was sitting in your living room.
He was here, in your apartment.
You had fled to your kitchen, making him a coffee to gather your thoughts. You fired texts off to your best friend telling you that Joel was here and to your brother asking if he had any idea how Joel got here.
But you couldn’t stay in the kitchen forever even if you wanted to.
Taking a deep breath you put the mug of coffee on the carton of your pizza that had been delivered in the meantime, making you way back to the kitchen.
The first thing you noticed was that he looked nervous.
He had taken his shoes off, standing up when you came back into the room. His hair looked wild, like he had ran his hand though it for a lot of times.
„Coffee black, right?“ You asked.
He gulped.
„Yeah. Yeah, that’s right,“ he nodded, carefully taking the mug. You sat down on the love seat across from the couch, opening the pizza. You missed the small smile gave you as you hummed in delight while inhaling the scent of the pizza.
„I would offer you some, but I didn’t expect any guests and I have been craving this the whole day,“ you say apologetic.
„It’s okay. I’m not hungry anyway,“ he said before he sat back down. His legs were spread as he sat, his head resting on his hands, his elbows angled on his knees, his back hunched over as he looked at you.
You took a deep breath.
„Why are you here Joel?“ you finally asked, picking up a slice of pizza, biting into it.
„I had a 6 am flight that Monday,“ he began and you stopped chewing.
„I watched you sleep for at least twenty minutes, trying to decide what to do before I took the, what I thought back then, easy way out and left without saying a word,“ he confessed.
You slowly nodded, breathing slowly.
You would let him talk. You had been waiting a while for him to talk.
„I don’t do shit like that. I don’t go out and fuck random women. Not that you are random. You are everything but random,“ he sighed. He set the mug of coffee down, rubbing his fingers over his forehead.
„I knew I made a mistake as soon as I stepped out of the hotel. Which doesn’t excuse my behaviour and I want you to know that I am sorry for leaving without a word. So fucking sorry. I just… You are so much younger than me. And I got scared. I wanted to the right thing. Never thought I would catch feelings for you,“ he sighed, letting himself fall back against the couch.
„Never thought you’d end up pregnant,“ he shook his head.
You set the slice of pizza you had just grabbed down, watching him.
„I met your mother in the week after I came back home. I was working with her boss. And it just…. It’s not… Fuck I feel like such an asshole. I realise now that I used her to get over you. Which is not fair to either of you.“
You were pretty sure you stopped breathing.
„You’re pregnant,“ he whispered.
You nodded.
„You’re pregnant and it’s mine,“ he whispered again.
Your bottom lip trembled and you nodded again.
He released a long sigh.
„Okay,“ he said, his eyes on yours.
„Okay?“ You asked.
He nodded.
„I want to be involved if you let me. We maybe wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t made the decision to leave, so I have no… I have no fucking right to ask for anything. But you don’t have to do this alone,“ he said.
„What,“ you cleared your throat, „What about my mom?“ You asked quietly.
„I broke up with her,“ he said and you inhaled sharply. She must be heartbroken. You could see how much Joel meant to her. Tears sprang into your eyes and you pushed the pizza away from you, as tears begin to fall.
Joel’s hand reached out as if to touch you, before he stopped. He looked devastated.
„I’m so sorry,“ you sobbed and he groaned confused.
„She was so happy with you. And I ruined it. I ruined it,“ you shook your head, sobbing quietly.
You jumped when you felt Joel’s hand taking yours, having missed him even gotten up from the couch and you looked at him as he knelt in front of you.
„You didn’t ruin anything. I should have been honest from the beginning. To both of you. I am the reason this situation is so damn messy. It’s not your fault,“ he said. You took some moments to take deep breaths, calming yourself down.
„Did you… Did you tell her? About us?“ You asked.
„No. If you want her to know, we can do it together,“ he said and you released a shuddering breath.
„If you want to be involved we have to tell her. I just don’t know…“ you shook your head.
„We don’t have to figure that out right away,“ he said with a small smile.
„What about us?“ You asked.
He shrugged.
„What do you want?“ He asked softly.
You knew the answer to his question. If was selfish of you. But you had wanted him from the first moment you met him you still wanted him.
„I want you,“ you whispered and a small smile sneaked to his face as he looked at you.
„Then we will make it work,“ he promised, kissing your hand.
„She looks so much like Joel,“ you were smiling at your mother, as she held your new born daughter in her arms.
„Yeah. She’s like his twin,“ you said fondly. She looked at you, eyes soft. Sean was sitting next to her grinning down at his niece.
You had moved back to Austin.
There had been a lot of talks, a lot of tears, a lot of heartbreak.
It hasn’t been easy, going for what you wanted, but in the end everything turned out okay.
The conversation between you, Joel and your mother must have been the hardest thing you had ever done in your life, but she understood in the end.
She had noticed how much you loved the father of your child before she even knew who he was. By the way you talked about him to her. And after taking some time to think about her feelings, after taking some time to heal, she was making her peace with it.
She had told you some time ago that she wasn’t even really sure if she was in love with Joel or with the idea of being in love again.
But she definitely fell in love with Robert, her new husband to be. She already moved in with the man on his ranch just outside of Austin. And that after only two months of knowing each other.
Not that you would ever judge her.
And Joel?
Joel had been with you whenever he could before you decided to move back to Austin. You had met his daughter and family.
You were loved.
You looked up when Joel walked back into the living room, his eyes meeting yours across the room, a smile sneaking to both of your faces.
In the end, you got your Disney fairytale.
Just…. Not in the right order.
And without a ring on your finger.
Not knowing that the missing ring, was already hidden in Joel’s work bench, waiting for the right moment to be put onto your finger.
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roommate!ellie headcannons.
pairing : ellie williams x reader
pov : second person , she/her pronouns
warnings : mention of porn i guess? college!ellie!! she’s got a big fat crush on you
notes : PLEASEEE send me headcannon and blurb requests for ellie (AND ABBY)!!
roommate!ellie that you met in a facebook group (she promptly deleted facebook as soon as you met)
roommate!ellie who refuses. and i mean re fuses. to do laundry.
she hates it oh my god she hates it. she does dishes, you do laundry. that is the agreement!
roommate!ellie who does not care what the place looks like, please take all creative control. she’ll love it regardless
she WILL kick ice under the fridge no matter how many times you tell her not to
roommate!ellie who would rather die than forget to water your plants. because she knows you love them and she KNOWS you will forget
she’s so “dad who says he doesn’t want a cat but loves that cat more than himself”
(the cat’s name is star. i will not elaborate.) (savage starlight.)
roommate!ellie who introduced you to fortnite and is mad because you’re better than her
roommate!ellie whose love language is physical touch
she will Die if your legs aren’t in her lap while watching a movie. she will sit on the counter beside the stove if you’re cooking.
roommate!ellie is a LOOOOSERRRRR
i’m talking sweating when you’re wearing pajama shorts, shaking when you play with her hair, blushing like all the fucking time.
she needs you bad.
roommate!ellie who turns into a handyman any time something breaks (she will break it more than it was already broken)
she was laying on the kitchen floor tiles when she accidentally broke the ac
roommate!ellie who refuses to let you buy groceries
“i eat more than you anyway” “you pay for the netlifx and the disney+” “let me sugar momma you”
roommate!ellie who will get on. All fours. if she comes home from work or class and you’re cooking or you made dinner for her.
(please please please be her housewife) (omg who said that?!)
roommate!ellie who puts cream and sugar in her coffee even though she likes black the best
because she knows she won’t finish the mug but you will and you like cream and sugar
roommate!ellie who is actually not! an astronomy major! she’s a paleontology major for sure
roommate!ellie who spends every paycheck she gets on 1. groceries and 2. random little trinkets she knows you’ll like
the sonny angel collection is crazy (thank you ellieeee :P)
roommate!ellie who can not stop giving you weird nicknames
“sweet girl” “angel” yeah yeah the normal ones but why is she calling you “beef” and “charcuterie board”
roommate!ellie was the first person you smoked with and she almost cried because she felt so bad when you greened out
her music taste is so. Bad (comedically, she actually has really good music taste)
“ellie if you play mask by dream one more time i’m going to [TRAIN PASSES BY]”
roommate!ellie (loser) who says “can i put my minecraft bed next to yours” LOSER
roommate!ellie who is So fucking smart but she pretends to not know what’s going on in her classes so you will sit next to her and your upper arm will touch hers as you help her
roommate!ellie who has to be constantly reminded to close her bedroom door at night
“i don’t know if you’re getting laid or watching p*rn but Hey close the door”
(you’re not jealous. why would you be jealous? it’s not like you like ellie or anything so if she’s getting laid why would it matter you don’t-)”
:0
roommate!ellie who worships the ground you walk on
do Not try on a dress or a skirt or a cropped shirt in front of her because she will pass out and d*e
stuttering and shit when you ask about her day (say it with me) (loooserrrr)
roommate!ellie who will Not hang up the phone or say goodbye without saying “love you”
cuz she does :,) she loves you :,)
don’t say “love you too” though because she will overthink it and stress herself out to tears
roommate!ellie who annoys dina so bad with how much she talks about you
“i was talking to y/n and she said” “y/n really likes this show” “y/n said that we should”
“oh my job just fuck already”
ellie’s best friend!dina who will look over you and at ellie and mouth “kiss her!!!”
and you’re clueless obviously
#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams blurb#ellie tlou#joel and ellie#ellie williams imagines#ellie williams angst#ellie williams smut#ellie williams oneshot#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#dina the last of us smut#dina tlou#dina the last of us#dina nolastname#joel tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller#abby anderson smut#abby anderson#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson angst#abby anderson blurb
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Princess Jasmine
Synopsis: Harry hangs out at the cafe his fiance works at by the closing time
Series Masterlist | More of my work
Harry never usually hangs out at his Fiance's work place, it is invasion of her work privacy, plus it's very distracting.
But today he went to see her after he'd just got back to London after his last show, all well rested. He slept all day at home. Came back after YN had already gone to work, so he went to see her. Maybe take her out on a quiet dinner date. He hadn't taken her out in a while now.
So he got ready in casual outfit and left as his hair air dried. He ordered himself a hot chocolate and sat at a table.
The cafe recently made changes, where more seating arrangements were made and self service was an option. Harry sat at ome of the new tables in a corner.
"Here you go." YN placed the mug of hot chocolate in front of him. "You want anything else, Hazza?"
"Yeah, a kiss would be nice." He smiled cheekily.
"Cheeky!" YN gave him a quick kiss on the mouth, "just an hour an half, then we'll leave."
"I'm right here." He assured her.
He sat there replying to all the pending emails he haven't checked since the last leg of his tour began. They were just random written interviews which had longer deadlines so he was good with later replies. Usually it's his team handling the emails for him, but these he preferred to answer himself.
There were not many people just a man with a little boy who'd just entered the cafe, went up straight to the register where YN was now cleaning up the coffee machines. The boy was wearing his Disney princesses shirt and Cars pants, had long brown curly hair. Harry knew YN is going to gush over how adorable that little human was.
She's just so nice around kids. He knows for sure she's going to be amazing mother to their kids.
"Hello, what can I get for you?" YN asked.
"Hi, can I, can I pwease have this muffin?" The little boy pointed to the two last blueberry muffins.
"Of course you can." YN beamed, "anything else you want, love?"
"Oh, and one for my wittle sister too!" He clapped his hand in excitement.
"She's too young, lad, you want anything else?" The man with the boy said laughing at his son's adorable excitement.
Harry paused doing what he was doing as he watched the interaction. He knows YN loves little kids, just the other day she bullied her friend to bring her twins over. Bummer that Harry was still on tour, he loves those twins too. He was bombarded with loads of videos and pictures from her that day.
The boy looked at his dad with a cheeky smile and looked back at YN, "can I have a chocowate milkshake too?"
YN giggled, "of course you can." She added to the bill.
"That's it, fank you!"
"You're welcome," YN found the boy real adorable. "I'll bring it right up to you."
YN quickly packed both of the muffins in a box and fixed a chocolate milkshake. It was a little too late for that in her opinion but his dad was letting him have it.
The boy was very talkative, as he talked his very tired dad's ears off waiting for his muffins and milkshake. YN was quick enough to fix the order and take it over to the table.
"Fank you!" The boy sang in excitement, "I'm going to share this wif mummy!"
"You are? That's so sweet of you!" YN gasped, impresses that he really thinks of his sister and mum.
"Yes." He nodded now looking up at YN as a revolutionary realisation seemed to hit him, "you look like princess Jasmine! Are you princess Jasmine?"
YN's heart was a puddle in that moment, "you're so cute, but no, I am not princess."
"You're very pwetty."
"Thank you, you're very handsome too!" YN shuffled his hair slightly. "You have a great night, okay?"
"You too, fanks!" He held onto the paper bags with the muffins with one hand and with other he held onto his dad's hand. He waved her bye as he walked out of the cafe. YN went flipped the sign to Closed.
That really made her day after a long shift dealing with some rude customers. She got to finishing up her work.
"Harry?" She called for him, "I'm done let's go." She went back to grab her bag and phone and lock up back doors.
Harry waited for her as she switched all of the lights off and locked the front door. It hit him.
She must have done all of this alone the night he asked her out the first time, after bumping into her as she closed the door. He remembered how nervous he was, and now here he is almost three years later, so close to being her husband.
And she really did looked like Princess Jasmine. With the blue shirt she wore, she was gushing over it when she found it at a thrift store it had her favourite cuss word written onit with sparkles. Good thing the boy didn't see it because of her apron.
"Ready to go, Princess Jasmine?" He held out his hand for her. They're going to walk home as both of their cars were at the garage getting fixed.
"Stop it," YN blushed as she grabbed onto his hand, "he was very cute, wasn't he?" She hugged his arm as they walked, with her head on his shoulder-- or you can say his bicep given she's shorter than him.
"Mhmm." He agreed.
"I want one too!"
"We can't just go and buy a kid from a store." He teased her, acting nonchalant about it.
"We can make one." She looked up at him with puppy eyes.
"I bet we'd make pretty good looking babies, eh!" He wondered.
"Hmm, especially if all them look like you." She said, "we already have one who looks like you, and he isn't even the same species."
"Stop!" He scoffed defeated.
Their cat, Milo, is morphing into a feline version of Harry. In everyway. He sleeps like Harry, eats like him, does weird things like his dad. It's a running joke by YN, she loves to tease him like that.
"I am serious, we should talk about it." YN brought up the topic again, she seems very serious about it.
"We will when we're home, yeah?" He assured her, "now I want to take you out on a date."
He walked her to this small Japanese restaurant one of his friend recommended him ages ago. It was small and cosy, perfect for a night he hoped to spend with his love.
And the night went as he imagined it would.
They went home and talked about all things about having a baby planning. It was just a vet domestic evening for Harry, and his fiance.
......................................................................
N O T E :
Are we getting somewhere with this book??? 👀
Leme know what you think of this! I love you xx
......................................................................
Tag list:
@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @japanchrry @onlyangelrain @supersanelyromantic @tenaciousperfectionunknown @haarrrys @originalsoulcollector @harrysgirl-1d @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker @moonys-star @blackbookwhore @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stilesissaved @allthelovehes @novalunosising @sunshinemoonsposts @harryssky1 @dear-mylove @sofia-faustina
Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles writing#harry styles imagine#harry smut#harry styles fic#harry styles blurb#harry styles concept#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry fluff#harry fanfiction#harry fanfic#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fanfic#fluff#harry concept#concept#boyfriendrry#boyfriend!harry#fiancerry#fiance!harry#husbandrry#husband!harry
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rain and mint tea and rambles
Hi maggots. It's me, thinking thoughts, again. I do that far too often.
Monsoon has begun, I do believe. The stupefying heat wave broke to let water crash onto the soil, out of which puffs the scent of petrichor. Ever so often the heat builds in the day, but yields to a thunderstorm come nightfall. Perhaps it'll only last a few weeks, but I'm so glad anyway.
I made a mug of mint tea. By which I mean I dropped a teabag into hot water, in one of the five mugs Lina bought me. I was so delighted last night when the heat slowly revealed the images of a whale emoji, a photo of me edited with Crowley's eyes, and fanart of me that said happy birthday, maggot prince with the Spotify code of a playlist you all added songs to. It's been days since my birthday, but I still keep finding bits of love that you sent my way.
I love the playlist. It's as chaotic as we are. There's Cavetown and ABBA and Queen, Bollywood dance music and sad songs and rap, Taylor Swift and a Rickroll and silly songs and Disney soundtracks.
Everything looks different in the rain. The leaves lose their dusty shroud, glittering emerald and lime and quivering in the damp breeze. The light is quieter, softer, grey. It smells of life. The sky swirls with clouds like Van Gogh tried to make art but ran out of paint, with only the greyish paintwater left.
I'm sorry about all the DMs and asks I haven't replied to yet. I swear it's not because I care. It's because I care too much, I care so much that sometimes it overwhelms me. Please don't stop sending me asks because of that, though. I promise I do read them, even if it takes a while for me to reply. You aren't bothering me. You could never. I love you too much. Be as crazy as you like. It's me.
Weirdly enough, as I wrote that paragraph, Nothing New by Phoebe Bridgers and Taylor Swift played. "Are we only biding time 'til I lose your attention? And someone else lights up the room? People love an ingenue." "How do I go from growing up to breaking down? And I wake up in the middle of the night, it's like I can feel time moving. How can a person know everything at 18, and nothing at 22? Will you still want me, when I'm nothing new?"
It's difficult to believe I'm 20 now. That shouldn't be allowed. It's such a weird age, isn't it, 20? It's so, so young, it's so new, it's so terrifyingly timid.
I swear I knew more at 14 than I do now. I swear so many of you know so much more than I do. I don't know anything at all, most days. I don't know who I am. But you do. Thank you for bringing out not the best of me, not the worst of me, but the realest of me.
I love you. I got into art school, by the way. Life is not going the way I expected it to. And the horrors persist, trapping me in my dreams, suffocating me the way a pillow never could. But then I wake up and I think about you, and that keeps me going.
Look at you, saving a guy, every single day. How insanely wonderful.
The rain has stilled. My brother will be pleased, he bought a ticket to go to a cricket match. I think I'll go for a drive with my mum and Roxie. She loves drives. She knows them as 'car byebyes'. She sits on my lap in the front seat and looks out the window, nose sniffing and getting excited whenever I say look, a bow-wow and a dog passes.
I'll scoot now. If this long letter landed up on your dash and messed it up, I really do apologise, I try not to tag these. If you read it this far, then wow, hi. I love you. If you skipped to the end, I love you. If you don't read this, I love you. I love you all, so much.
I hope you have the loveliest of days.
I'll see you soon, maggots of mine.
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Wishing Well
Who knew that the killer next door was also a Disney Princess?
When you inherited your late grandmother's place, just outside the boundaries of Crystal Lake, you heard all the rumors. Of Pamela Voorhees, he poor son, her death and the son's supposed resurrection
You thought them all just that, rumors.
But life has a way of making a jackass out of you.
So, there you were, watching as the hulking beast of a man place more wood onto your growing pile. Your coffee mug sat abandoned on the counter, rapidly cooling down. And your eyes, wide as the can be, watching every move he made.
It was a fascinating terror running through your body right now.
Again the rumors.
Jason Voorhees. Deranged, deformed, pyscho killer. Heartless and ruthless. Oh, he'd kill you the instant you stepped foot onto his property. And he was brutal with his kills.
But, here you were. Watching him helping you.
Almost as if he felt your eyes on him, Jason threw down the last log and turned to face you. You held eye contact with him, neither of you daring to blink. You broke first, lifting your hand and giving him a timid wave.
Jason stood still for a moment, before turning around, disappearing into the woods.
You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding "Holy shit..."
The next time he made his presence known, you were trying to fix the door. It creaked when you opened it and any cold breeze would slither itself through the cracks. You spent one too many mornings struggling to keep the front room warm.
You threw down the screwdriver in anger "Stupid piece of shit door. Stupid old ass cabin. "
You sniffled, bringing your knees to your chest. You were tired and constantly cold. You couldn't afford to move back to the city, you sold everything you had there. Moved out to the middle of nowhere to take care of this place.
You felt helpless.
The sudden squeak of the stairs made you jump, your eyes watery and wide. There, standing on your front porch was Jason Voorhees himself. The two of you made awkward, prolonged eye contact once again, before he broke it by leaning down.
You scooted back, afraid that this was finally it. The day Jason killed you. Holding back a whimper, your eyes screwed themselves shut. You waited for the killing blow.
But it never happened.
Daring to open up a eye, you looked over at the man who you thought was your death. Instead of a machete in his hand, he held your discarded tool. And instead of swinging it down on your head, he was....
Fixing your door??
Jason held the screwdriver in one hand and the other braced the door. He tightened the three screws holding the hinge. Then he shut the door, placed the screwdriver on the railing and walked away from you without a single glance.
As soon as he was out if eyesight, you jumped up and launched your body into the house, shutting the door behind you. You placed your hands against your chest, feeling your heart beating quickly. You walked over and sunk down to the couch, before the adrenaline wore off and sleep took control.
It wasn't the until the next time you saw him that you were brave enough to utter a word.
If you could say anything about Crystal Lake, you could definitely call it beautiful. The calm lake waters, the vibrant skies and the mass expanse of trees. Not to mention the array of adorable creatures.
Up ahead, just past your property line, there was a well. And not like a creepy old well you'd see in horror movies, you were sure (at least about 95% sure) that no girl with dark hair was going to clamber he way out.
It was more of that Disney princess well. Like, with ivy growing around it, small blue birds flying about. The whole shebang. Yes, it technically wasn't on your property, but it was a small price to pay.
A part of you hoped that Jason would show up.
You sighed, leaning against the cold stone of the well. Why was he taking up so much space in your head? You should be scared of him, but sometimes you got the feeling that he didn't want to hurt you.
The logs, him fixing the door. Why do all of that if he was going to kill you? He was practically trying to keep you alive.
A branch snapped behind you, but you didn't bother turning around. You knew exactly who it was behind you "Sorry, Mr. Voorhees. I know I'm technically on your property, but I just love this well."
You turned to face the man behind you, giving him a smile "You ever seen Snow White? "
Jason nodded, almost shocked that you weren't running away screaming from him. You laughed, turning back to well. Jason tentatively stepped towards you, positioning himself on the opposite side of the structure.
You hummed a melody under your breath "I loved that movie growing up. Although, I never understood what she was thinking. Taking a apple from that creepy old lady. "
Jason nodded furiously, fighting back the urge to get closer to you. A small blue bird sang above you, landing on his shoulder. While he wasn't fazed, you looked over at him with wonderment.
You giggled "So if you're Snow White, does that make me the prince?"
You weren't sure if Jason could blush (was he technically undead?) But if he could, you definitely think that right now, he'd probably be beet red.
You almost felt bad. The hulking man was physically trying to appear smaller. You furrowed your eyebrows "I am so sorry. That was completely out of line. "
Jason looked up, his one bright blue eye wide. He shook his head fervently, hands up. He tilted his head, before walking towards you. He was tentative, half expecting you to run. But you stayed.
His large hand lifted up, placing it against the mouth of his mask. He then brought those fingers to your cheek, pressing gently. Your cheeks flushed hotly. Jason slipped his hand off, shuffling his feet in the dirt.
It was adorable, seeing just how flustered and shy he could be. You smiled up him "Hey, I'm making soup and grilled cheese for dinner. Would you care to join me?"
Jason nodded again, a little more confident now.
If only you knew how much this meant to him.
#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher headcanons#jason voorhees x reader#jason voorhees x you#jason voorhees imagine#friday the thirteenth#friday the 13th
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The Valentine's Dom {Modern!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 13.9k
Warnings: Dom/Sub dynamics, use of safe words, bondage, gagging, oral (male and female receiving), flogging, pussy slapping, derogatory language, semi-public sex, mentions of anal, sex toys
Comments: Professor Tovar hates anything modern, especially technology. Making you insult him at every turn when he scoffs at your modern methods to teach. Archaic and stuck in his ways, you are surprised to find a different side to he medieval professor at the Valentine's dance your college throws every year.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
"Jesus Christ, Tovar. Get some coffee, will ya?" William shakes his head at his colleague/friend.
Pero grumbles, pouring out the sludge that the university calls 'coffee'. He huffs and looks down at the pink cup in his hand. His own had gone missing, maybe buried under a pile of papers he has to grade, and he just grabbed the first one his fingers touched, not knowing it's yours. You are a professor of Mythology. In the history department alongside Pero and William who both teach East Asian and European histories respectively. Pero always had an interest in Eastern Asia, visiting China many times during his college years to learn more about the culture and the history. After serving in the Spanish military, he spent years researching and writing papers on his findings in Asia, earning him respect and admiration from the historical community, until he eventually found his place teaching in NYU.
"Your accent grates on me this early in the morning." Tovar retorts back to William, leaning against the counter in the break room.
“Everything grates on you this early in the morning.” William teases, smirking at the dark glare that Tovar throws him. “I don’t know how you were in the military and didn’t get in trouble for your horrible morning attitude. Or just your attitude.” Tovar has a very prevalent reputation of being a grouch. So much so that he was routinely bet against as the first professor to drop a kid from his class. The stern man not tolerating a lot of the bullshit some college students believe they can get away with. “Have you looked over the new grading system?” Will asks, changing the subject and hopefully not earning another growled threat of bodily harm.
“Don’t fucking mention that bullshit. Why does everything have to go through a computer nowadays? What happened to good old pen and paper? We teach history. They didn’t have this - this technology in their day and yet we are subjected to it because it’s standard practice. It’s ridiculous.” Tovar growls, taking another sip of the coffee before he pulls the mug away and scowls at it, “who does this mug belong to?” He asks, not recognizing the cute little green alien character on it. “What is a Grogu?” He asks William.
What is a Grogu? You snort when you walk into the breakroom, giving the Spaniard a withering glare. “He’s a cute little baby from The Mandalorian.” You tell him, annoyed that he’s stolen your coffee mug. Tovar just stares at you and you try again. “That show on Disney Plus? It’s everywhere? The Star Wars show?”
“I have heard of Star Wars but Disney Plus? What is that?” He asks, mystified.
You chuckle, “it’s a streaming service. Like Netflix.”
Pero shakes his head, “I don’t like streaming services. Too complicated. Too many subscriptions and then you can never find anything to watch. I have cable. Just cable. You press the channel button, the volume button and on and off. It’s simple. None of this streaming bullshit.” He says, displaying his disdain for technology once again.
William chuckles, used to his friends rants about technology and there was just no use for all of it . “Yeah but you still have the internet, don’t you?” He teases, making the other man scowl at him viciously. Aware of why he was ribbing him and unwilling to talk about that around you.
“Shut up amigo, before you wear my coffee.” He growls, making you shake your head.
“Jesus, Tovar. You are such a dinosaur.” You huff. “I think you would rather live in the times you teach about.”
"What's so wrong about that? They survived or they died. There was no coddling like they do now, these kids are soft. They whine if their internet goes out. No gumption. The internet has made people soft and I use it only when I absolutely must. Those times...they were survival of the fittest."
William snorts, "until you die of syphilis...oh wait...you'd actually have to get laid to get that." William jokes and Tovar narrows his eyes at him.
“Shut up, pendejo."
You press your lips together, smirking at William’s barb. “Perhaps if you weren’t such a grumpy ass, maybe one of your students would want to sleep with you?” You offer, grinning at him. “You know, for extra credit?” You’ve heard the comments about the hot but scary professor. Tovar scowls at you like you suggested running through the dean’s office naked. “Or not.” You shrug. “Can I have my coffee mug back?”
Pero huffs, downing the rest of his coffee, “let me wash it out for you first, hermosa.” He says and takes the mug over to the sink, grabbing the dish soap to wash the rim of the mug and the inside, making sure it’s pristine and dry when he hands it back to you. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.” He says, “I have to get to class.” He murmurs, ignoring the way his stomach twists when your fingers brush his when you take the coffee cup back from him.
You frown slightly when he calls you beautiful. “You’re welcome.” You offer after he’s already turned back around to move away. Tovar is barely ever civil, having called your class ‘meaningless drivel’ several times. Instead of asking if he’s feeling okay, you simply move over to the coffee pot. “Ready for the new semester?” You ask, more William than Pero because you know he won’t answer you anyway.
William nods, "yeah. Too many fucking drop outs to file. Guess no one likes European history?" He snorts and Pero smirks, "maybe if you stopped doing an entire semester on the potato famine, amigo."
William huffs, "the fucking British crown led to-"
"Okay, okay." You get in between them, knowing Garin will stand there all day if you let him rant about his Irish history.
"I should get in there. I want to be early. Intimidation is the best way to filter them out early." Pero says seriously, knowing that some students take his class thinking it's an easy A.
You snort. “You could always have fun with your class, Tovar.” You suggest. “It’s about teaching them things they wouldn’t get from letting their class course sit idle on their computers.” You know very well that Tovar doesn’t do online books. He’s very hands-on and has even had to provide the books for his class because they are no longer published. “You know, a power point would go a long way.”
"Absolutely not. I have the whiteboard and the textbooks. I don't need anything else. Maybe the projector at times but nothing else." He is adamant. If he uses technology, then his students will simply be on their laptops fucking around and not listening to him. "fun won't get them into their chosen career, will it? I am simply teaching them life skills."
You roll your eyes, not subscribing to that mentality at all. “That’s fine.” You huff, taking a sip of your coffee now that you’ve doctored to your liking. “Most of the kids who drop out of your class pick up mine.”
“Good for you. Taking my leftovers.” He chuckles, “I only teach the ones who want to learn. I’m not here to babysit.” He scoffs and crosses his arms, “you might enjoy babysitting but that’s not for me.”
You huff, rolling your eyes at his mentality. “I enjoy teaching people about mythology, it’s not babysitting. The kids in my class are just as challenged as yours.”
“Well, you give them online tests and quizzes, señorita. Do you not suspect they are cheating?” He raises his eyebrows when you don’t respond. “Exactly. There’s no cheating in my class. It’s old school. Just how I like it.”
You roll your eyes again and sigh. “Whatever, Tovar. Go live in your cave and I’ll run my class how I see fit.” You snark, sending William a grin. “Enjoy your first day of class, gentleman.”
Pero watches you go, pleased he won this round with you. You’re always trying to mock his old fashioned ways but he won’t let you win. He knows his class is hard but it prepares his students for their future careers. “You’re gonna end up together. You know that, right?” William teases Pero who wrinkles his nose.
“She’s the last woman I’d want. She’s too…opinionated.” He lies slightly, knowing you are gorgeous and smart but you clash with him too much and he won’t be the one to give in in this feud you have going on.
You huff to yourself as you walk down the hall to your lecture hall. Why you let Pero goad you, you’ll never understand. The man reeks of superiority complexes and caveman antics. Obviously not someone you should even consider a friend, let alone speak to outside your role as a colleague. “Fuck him.” You hiss to yourself as you shake your head. He’s not going to make you change the way you run your class, just like it will be a cold day in hell when he changes his own ways.
When the students filter in for his class, Pero stands tall and grabs the chalk, starting to write down the notes for today's lesson. He knows that a lot of his students think he’s old fashioned, even down to his loafers and blazers but he doesn’t care. He likes things a certain way and that won’t change.
Your first day goes exceedingly well. Every class, you have the students fill out a little questionnaire online about them. It’s just highlights that might be helpful if they need some additional help with your course load. The syllabus is acknowledged by all students and you’ve directed them to the site where all your lectures are uploaded so no one had to spend time copying down notes instead of engaging. You want them to think, to question. Humming happily, you watch the last class of the day file out of your room.
****
A month into the semester and Tovar is already exhausted. His hand aches from writing for hours every day on the whiteboard and then grading. He’s burning the candle as he sits there after hours, grading his latest test. His glasses are perched on his nose and he rubs his cheek while he takes a break. “Mierda.” He grunts, standing up and deciding to get a coffee from the break room.
Office hours have run over, making it a long day for you. It’s the longest of the week, but everything is going well, several of your students coming to you to make sure they were on track. Sighing to yourself, you carry your coffee mug to the break room to wash out for tomorrow. You frown when you hear someone moving around, most of the staff having gone home for the night. “Tovar? What are you doing here?” You ask, walking in to find the Spaniard fighting with the coffee machine.
“Busy grading papers. Trying to figure out that new damn system they have forced us into. They won't accept my handwritten grades anymore. Told me I have to join the 21st century.” He scoffs, knowing that he might be antiquated but at least he isn’t stuck in his phone all day, looking at mindless shit. “Why are you here so late?” He asks, turning back to the coffee machine and failing to handle it. “Pendejo.” He growls at the machine, knowing he’s missing a step with the new machine. Why can’t they stick to the pot of coffee that goes stale after a few hours? Now it’s a Keurig with pods and he’s confused.
You snicker and decide to show him some pity. “Let me.” You nudge him out of the way and open the top of the coffee maker to pop a pod on. “Look, it's easy.” His coffee mug on the tray, you close the lid and press a button to start his coffee. “My office hours ran over late tonight.” You admit as you turn back towards him with a smug grin on your face, proud that you could work the coffee maker for him. “Was just coming to clean my coffee cup and go home.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.” He insists, knowing it’s dark outside and no one is really around. He might not agree with your teaching methods but he wants you to be safe.
“Oh, you don’t -” You shake your head but he cuts you off.
“I do.” He grabs his coffee, “go get your things and I’ll put my coffee on my desk. I’ll meet you at the door. It’s freezing out there so you’d better not have parked too far away.” He half jokes with you, walking off before you can argue to get his coat and set his coffee down.
Huffing to yourself about his completely gruff, yet sweet gesture, you quickly clean your coffee mug and go back to your office to grab your coat and bag. Halfway expecting him not to be in the hallway when you come out and lock your door.
Tovar pulls his coat closer around his form, readying himself for the bitter cold. Keys in hand, he opens the door for you and lets you guide him to your car.
“It’s close.” You promise and he grunts when you walk him clear across the parking lot.
“You and I have a different interpretation of close, hermosa.” He snorts, breath visible in the cold.
“And no one asked you to walk me out.” You retort, irritated that he could manage to make a sweet gesture seem like a chore. Your car keys are out and you click the key to open the doors, the car already turned on and warming up for the past five minutes. Although you still wonder why he calls you hermosa. “Why do you call me that?” You ask, looking over at him as he rounds his shoulders for warmth. “Hermosa. You didn’t last year.”
Pero narrows his eyes, trying to remember if he called you that or not. “I, uh, you know what it means?” He asks, trying to keep his face as impassive as possible.
“Yes. It means beautiful.” You respond coolly and Pero wants to curse himself but he remains calm.
“Well, would you rather me call you fea?” He retorts, a little harshly. Why couldn’t you accept the compliment and let it go? You’re always pushing him.
You stiffen, any chance of civil conversation lost. As if you had one with Tovar. “Sure.” You snarl, snatching your door open and shoving your bag into the passenger seat. “Have a good night, cabrón.” You climb into the car and slam the door, the idea of offering to drive him back across the parking lot vanishing under the fact the man is as bristly as a pissed off porcupine.
Pero sighs, knowing you’re pissed at him but it’s better this way. He’s damaged goods and there’s no way you’d like what he’s capable of, what he likes. He knows you’re a strong, independent woman. You would not be able to handle his…peculiarities. He shivers, making his way back across the parking lot to go back in and finish his grading. His coffee is cold and he curses it but he can’t go back and get another one. He didn’t pay attention when you showed him how to use the machine. He was too busy watching you.
Even though you spent far too much time irritated than you should have the night before, you come into work ready to just ignore the temperamental Spaniard. Tired of dealing with his surliness, you vow to just not speak to him unless you have to during staff meetings. “Morning.” You murmur to William, purposefully not looking at where Pero is pouring over his grade book.
Tovar knows you’re annoyed with him. He even had Garin show him how to use the damn coffee machine so he didn’t have to ask you again. You would’ve made fun of him and his jaw would’ve ticked. You are cocky sometimes, smart as a whip but your occasional arrogance grates on him. “Morning.” William greets you, glancing between you and his friend. “You ready for the upcoming Valentine's dance?” William asks you, knowing you tend to be on the committee for the sweetheart dance that occurs every year. It can get rowdy so all staff are asked to attend.
You huff playfully, rolling your eyes as you set up your own coffee cup. “Oh absolutely, what’s not to love? Watching horny college kids grind on each other and get shit house drunk. Or having them hit on me in horrible fashion.” You shake your head. “One kid last year told me that I needed to spank him and he’d let me dominate him.” That one had made you giggle. “Someone has mommy issues and I will not be the one to exercise them for him.”
William guffaws and Pero snorts in amusement at you dominating anyone. You might be arrogant but when it comes to it, he knows you’re all talk. “Well, the good news is that Tovar here is chaperoning too.” William announces and you and Pero both say “what?”
William smirks, “didn’t I tell you I put your name on the list?”
Pero growls at the mischievous look on his friend’s face. “Pendejo.” He growls out his warning.
Your jaw rocks slightly as you fix your coffee with sugar and creamer. “Too bad you are not chaperoning, William.” You murmur, taking a sip and sighing at the perfect taste. “I’m sure the girls would rather moon over you than be glared at like being young is a crime.” You cut your eyes over to Tovar but you don’t say anything to him. “I would have shared my liquor with you.”
Pero rolls his eyes, focusing back on his grades, “it’s not smart to drink in that situation, hermosa. Especially around those stupid college boys. You know they all jerk off over you in their dorm rooms. You should be careful.” He warns you, having heard the comments and he hates the fact that he wanted to shut their mouths.
You grit your teeth, wanting to snap at him that you aren’t the idiot that he thinks you are. You never drink during the fucking party. “Thanks Daddy, I’ll keep that in mind.” You keep your voice sugary sweet before you turn on your heels and march out of the break room.
Fuck, Pero’s cock twitches and he is glad to be sitting down as you stride out of the room. His eyes focus on your ass as you storm out of the room. “She needs to be put in her place.” Pero grumbles and William grins, knowing that his friend doesn’t mean that in the way it sounds.
“Sure thing, man. You need to just tell her what you want.” William says, grabbing his coffee and making his way to his office. Pero rolls his eyes at his friend, knowing he’s messing with him. He should go and take his name off of the chaperone list but he won’t. He knows he needs to go and look out for you.
All week you’ve been giving Tovar the silent treatment, not that the man cared or even noticed. He was too busy being flustered by the new grading system that they put in place. Which you secretly snickered about since you’ve had no problem putting it in use, finding the system easy to use. Now though, you can’t avoid him. The dance is about to start and you look around at all the students starting to pour into the space. Your own dress is a little flirty, a red wrap number that made you feel slightly better about being single for yet another year. The black lingerie underneath was for yourself since you had no one to show it to. Tovar walks up to you and you can’t resist holding out your insulated cup to him. “Vodka?” You offer, knowing damn well that it’s water.
Pero knows you better than that. You look like a heartbreaker in that red dress and he knows half the boys in this room will be jerking off thinking about you later…himself included if he’s being completely honest. William is glaringly absent tonight, taking his wife on a date. “I can’t let the General down.” William joked with Pero, using the playfully nickname for his wife.
“You look beautiful.” Pero says, wanting to give you a compliment.
You blink at him for a few seconds, sure that you’ve misheard him. Pulling back the cup, you bite your lip, flustered by the compliment. “Thanks….” You murmur. “You look, uh, good too.” You offer, seeing what all the girls are talking about. His dark slacks and maroon shirt look good, fitted to his broad frame and he’s slicked his hair back. The scar over his left eye makes him seem even more dangerous now.
Pero tries to not react, just shoves his hands in his pockets while you stand there, watching the young adults grind sloppily against each other while hip hop music plays out. “They call this shit music?” Pero scoffs, turning to look at you again. “You got a date after this?” He asks, wondering if the black lace he spots under the wrap dress is for someone he doesn’t know about.
“If eating pizza on my couch while watching a shitty romcom by myself counts as a date.” You joke, before you turn the question around. “How about you? You look like you’re going out on the prowl after this. Does the grumpy, foreboding professor have a date?”
Tovar smirks, shaking his head. “Why? Would you be jealous if I did?” He teases, pleased that you don’t have a date. He rocks on his feet, trying to get with the beat but it’s nothing like the easy listening radio he has on in his car. 70s and 80s tunes to enjoy and actually hear the lyrics unlike this nonsense. The club music is what makes him feel ancient.
Rolling your eyes, you scoff playfully. “Why would I be jealous? You hate me, that’s clear.” It hurts because you’ve never actually done anything to him beyond trade barbs, but that was life. “If you have a date, maybe you can get laid and not be such a cabrón tomorrow.” One kid stumbles nearby, capturing your attention as you try to determine if the guy is already plastered, but it seems like it’s more that he’s clumsy than anything so you relax. Taking a sip of water, you watch all the kids having fun, starting to move your hip slightly to the beat.
"I never said I hated you." Pero huffs, not turning to look at you as he watches the kids grinding and getting way too close but it's college so he doesn't give a fuck. "I don't hate you." He adds, turning to look you in the eye. "I find you...complicated."
“Complicated….” You raise a brow and wonder why he thinks you’re more complicated than any other woman or person on the planet. “Sorry for being complicated.” You feel oddly judged and for some reason it hurts. Why you care what Tovar thinks of you, you don’t know. “I am just trying to navigate a world that is still severely male dominated and not be walked over professionally.”
“You are incredible at your job. You allow silly things to distract you. Like the emotions of the students. You’re there to teach, not to nurture. This isn’t kindergarten, they are old enough to manage their feelings. You are smart, strong…sexy.” Pero reveals, turning his gaze back to the crowd, “it’s frustrating to see you not reach your full potential because you hold yourself back. You could be the head of the department in a couple of years. You have the potential. You need to stop dating those fools that upset you and focus on yourself, on what’s important to you. Or find a partner who helps you get where you need to go.” He finishes his speech, knowing this is possibly the most he’s ever said to you but he means every word. You are incredible and it frustrates him how you don’t focus and reach your potential. You allow yourself to be distracted. He’s overheard you telling the women about your failed dates, how lackluster they were in and out of bed.
Your jaw drops, shocked to have heard an almost impassioned speech from the man who used grunting as a form of communication. “It’s easy for you to say ‘find a partner’.” You snort. “I’ve yet to find a man who can be dominant and yet also agree that my life shouldn’t revolve around him. That every night I shouldn’t be kneeling on the floor waiting for him with his dinner ready.” You had a need to be taken care of, to submit, but never found a man worthy of it. “And don’t tell me to try the BDSM clubs around here, all of them think it’s some 50 Shades roleplay.”
Pero’s eyes widen, eyebrows raising at the words that just came out of your mouth. You’re submissive. Something he wouldn’t have guessed considering how strong willed you are. “Yeah? You’re looking for a modern dom?” Pero leans closer so he can whisper in your ear. “Someone who treats you as an equal outside of the bedroom and someone who treats you like the needy little whore you are in the bedroom?” He knows you could slap him but he’s willing to take the chance.
His words send a shiver through your entire body, making your cunt clench deliciously as you imagine Pero growling orders at you, at just that pitch. You inhale softly, turning to look at him. Your lips are inches away from his but you can’t kiss him, he’s your co-worker. “Too bad there’s nothing modern about you, Tovar.” You whisper back. “I think you would have been good at it.”
Pero smirks, seeing the way your pupils dilate, “just because I’m not a fan of technology and the social bullshit that brings doesn’t mean I’m a man who expects a woman to run around after me. I don’t want a housewife, I want a partner. I want someone who lets me own them in the bedroom but stands beside me in the classroom. I don’t want a mouse, I want a woman who knows what she wants and understands me. Don’t judge me by my teaching methods, hermosa.”
It’s true that you have judged him by his teaching methods, sure that he is just as archaic as they are. “So don’t judge me for being tech savvy. Just because I use our new grading system and am perceived to be a strong woman doesn’t mean I don’t want to be spanked until I cry and then have my clit rubbed while being told I’m a good girl.”
Pero’s nostrils flare and he stares at you, eyes darkening as he imagines how sweet your cries would be. The mercy you’d beg for when he spanks you. The way you’d moan his name when he finally gives you what you want. “If you want that, I can provide that. All you need to do is be waiting at my office door after the party is over. If I stand here any longer, I’m going to drag you off to my classroom and fuck you on my desk and I’m sure neither of us want to jeopardise our careers for our baser instincts. I’ll be on the other side of the room. If you’re not outside my office after, I’ll understand and have no hard feelings. If you are there, I’ll take you to my house, tie you to my bed and edge you until you’re begging to cum. Then I’ll make you cum until you beg me to stop.” He promises, whispering in your ear and letting his breath wash over your cheek before he pulls back and strides across the room, discreetly adjusting his semi.
Fuck. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and your clit is throbbing as you think about what he just said to you. Imagining how good it would feel to finally have a man take control and let you submit like you need to. You hastily take a sip of your water, amazed how he looks so unaffected by what he just proposed. He looks bored, or angry. Biting your lip, you look at your watch, a few hours left for the party and you already wish they were over.
Pero stands on the other side of the room, sipping his water and he keeps an eye on the college kids who are basically dry humping at this point. He snorts and glances around until he sees a senior walk over to you, holding his hand out. Pero clenches his jaw, eager to see what your reaction is.
You hesitate before you take Brian’s hand. He’s one of your students who has finally started to socially interact, the kid had never wanted to go to any dances when he was younger. Slowly coming out of his shell in your classes, you know you can’t turn him down for a dance. “Surprised to see you aren’t here with Tara.” You murmur as the two of you move out to the dance floor.
Pero just watches for now, holding back, but he’s clenching his jaw and his fists, hating how this kid gets to hold you. He makes it about half way through the song before he’s striding across the dance floor, dodging the grinding kids until he’s tapping on the shoulder of Brian. “Can I cut in?” He asks gruffly.
Brian instantly drops your hand, eyes wide at the sight of the fiercely stern medieval studies professor. Brian had admitted that while he made it through his class, Tovar terrified him. “A-sure, p-pro-professor.” Brian stutters and you give him an encouraging smile.
“Go ask Tara to dance, you two are always talking about each other.” You confide with a wink.
Pero grunts when the kid scurries off, no doubt gathering his balls to ask the girl to dance, and he reaches for your hand to pull you closer to him. He knows people are watching but he doesn’t care, his need for you overtaking his logic. “Did you enjoy the dance with the boy, hermosa?”
“It was fun.” You end up immediately breathless over the way he pulls you close with zero hesitation. “He’s a good boy.” You bite your lip and look into Pero’s dark eyes. “Were you jealous of my dancing with him?”
Pero scoffs, “no. I wasn’t jealous. I know that kid can’t give you what you want, what you need, querida. I simply wanted to touch you.” He says with a smirk, suddenly aware of how much you want him when you shiver slightly under his grip. “You’re a needy little one, aren’t you?” Pero says as he leans in closer, not touching your lips or face since it’s still professional but he’s closer than just colleagues.
“Fuck.” You practically whimper the curse, drawn in by the sheer possessiveness in his tone. Licking your lips, you look down at his for a brief second, considering kissing him but you’re sure he wouldn’t want that. “I am.” You confess softly. “It’s been a long time since…”
Pero chuckles, “since someone treated you right and made you cum?” He guesses, “don’t worry.” He reaches up with his free hand to gently grip your chin, “you’ll be satisfied come morning with me. You won’t leave my bed until you are able to walk.”
“Please…” you beg softly, unsure of what kind of title Pero prefers when he is in control. His hand is warm and large, you had never realized how Fucking big his hands are and you want them on your body. “Whatever you want.”
“Better get your things and meet me outside then.” He smirks and lets go of your chin, interested to see how you react and what you do. He is already half hard, glad he didn’t wear tight trousers as he steps away from you when the song ends. “Meet me outside.” He demands, forcing himself to not drag you out of the damn gym now.”
You nod breathless and whine slightly when you realize that you hate his hand moving away from you. How he’s already tapped into your neediness is amazing and you are looking forward to seeing what he can do when you are alone. “Let me- let me get my purse.”
“Good girl.” He murmurs, glancing around and acting like nothing happened when he steps back to go grab his coat from the check. He is ready to show you what he has, what he can do. He wants you to be wrecked.
You’re eager as you collect your purse and your own coat, knowing that you might not know what to expect with Pero. Will he want you to drive to his house or leave your car here? The weekend is completely open and you wonder if this is just a one time thing. A Valentine’s Day fling of sorts
Pero waits patiently by the doors, ignoring the looks from passing students and he inhales sharply when he sees you coming towards him. You want him. It’s clear in the haphazard way you put on your coat. “You ready?” He asks, voice lowering as he glances at the retreating student.
“Do you want me to follow you?” You ask quietly, biting your lip as you look at the students and then back at him. You’re nervous and excited. Anticipation racing through you happily and making your skin tingle. You always thought Pero was attractive, but now that you know he’s a dom? You’re dripping.
“Yes. Follow me.” He orders, walking to the door to open it and the cold makes him shiver as he guides you out into the parking lot and to your car. His hand cups your jaw and he rubs your lower lip with his thumb. “I’ll see you at my place.” He says, gesturing to his car.
This is insane. You are following Pero to his house so he can fuck you. It’s not like you have ever been there; or even kissed the man. Still, you climb into your car and follow him as you both leave the campus and start towards an older, residential section of the college town.
Pero is eager, gripping the steering wheel tight as he makes his way to his house, watching you in the rear view mirror to make sure he doesn’t lose you. He is eager, cock hardening in his pants as he imagines you spread out on his bed, tied to his headboard. Tonight has not gone how he expected, he expected to be heading home alone but he’s so ready to make you moan his name. When he pulls into his driveway and parks in his garage, he gets out of the car to wait for you, giving you a moment.
Climbing out of your car, you have come up with a few things to talk about. First being your safe words and hard limits. This is basically his audition, you told yourself about a thousand times. It will be disappointing if he’s the same as all the others, but you will just tell him that you’re not interested in a repeat performance.
Pero guides you inside, taking your coat and purse and leaving them by the front door. “Come sit.” He orders, gesturing to his sofa after he hangs up his own coat. “You want something to drink? Water? Tea?” He offers, a little nervous but nerves always help him in this situation. He knows this is an audition for both you and him and he wants to go over his rules.
“Water would be nice, thank you.” You murmur softly, looking around his house curiously. Pero never invited anyone over, William being the only one who had been inside. It’s surprisingly clean and tidy, with the exception of a study which was obviously used to grade papers and work at home. “Thank you.” Pero hands you the drink and you take a sip of it before you look at him. “I guess we need to talk about rules and expectations?”
He nods, sitting down beside but not super close to give you space if you want to leave. He rubs his hands together, gathering his thoughts. He never speaks without thinking first. “Hermosa-” He says your name, “I am not a traditional Dom. I know that the real world is equal and I would never expect you to be my submissive in public. This is purely for our private pleasure. I don’t believe that women should be submissive in their daily lives. You’re a strong, independent woman and I don’t not wish to change it. However, in my home, in our private time, I want - if you want me - I want you to be pleasured and give pleasure. Be punished for bad behavior and accept that punishment within limits. I am a strict dom, I expect complete obedience unless we use the safe words and of course within your limits. I expect you to submit to me, submit your body to me. Take what I give.” He finishes his speech, knowing you’ll want to respond.
It sounds so perfect the way that he describes it. It’s what you want but a lot of men or dominants want total control. At least the ones you’ve found. You nod. “I use ‘Arina’ for my safe word.” You smile at the use of the Greek goddess of peace in your bedroom activities. It was quite fitting in your mind. “And I don’t like fisting, or any type of ‘waste play’.” You had one man who thought that your hard limits didn’t matter and he could do whatever he wanted. That relationship died quickly.
Pero nods, “then those are my limits too. Let me show you what I like to use and you can decline what you don’t want.” He says, standing up to take your hand and he guides you to his bedroom. He has a special drawer full of his toys and he gently lays them on the dresser. They are all sanitized and ready to go. “Tell me what you don’t want and it goes back in the drawer.” He offers, wanting you both to be on the same page.
You look over the toys, surprised that he had such a variety of things. Especially since he’s a man who hates technology. Your fingers brush over the plug and you raise a brow at him, but he just looks back at you and waits. “Everything looks good.” You admit. “But it’s been awhile since I’ve had a plug in.”
Pero is pleased that you liked all of his toys. He steps back from you, keeping his dark eyes on yours. “I’m going to prepare. Strip down and kneel on my bed, head down. You will only address me as sir from this moment on. Safe word is ‘Arina’ and you are to use it whenever you want. I will stop immediately. Do you understand?” He asks.
“Yes sir.” You reply and he hums in contentment.
“I’ll be back.” He strides out of his bedroom, heading to his study so he can strip down to his pants, shoes off and shirt off. Mentally preparing himself for treating you how you want to be treated. This isn’t romantic. It’s not loving. This is what you both need.
The tremble in your fingers as you unzip your dress has nothing to do with fear, and everything to do with anticipation. You want this, you need it with almost pathetic desperation. The mindless fuzziness that you get when you give yourself over to someone else and having your choices taken away. Peeling your dress off, you wish you had asked if you were to leave your lingerie on, but smirk to yourself as you decide to keep it on. Sliding out of your heels and kneeling on the bed wearing the black lace. It will be fun to see how he reacts.
Pero rolls his shoulders, preparing himself, and he walks to his bedroom, opening the door. Fuck, he curses internally, seeing the lace on display on your body. His hackles go up a little, wondering who you wore this for, wanting to ask you, but he likes silence. Silence builds anticipation. He grabs the knife he keeps on the side, flicking it open, and he slowly walks over to the bed. He doesn’t say a word as his hand trails along your shoulder and he grips the band between the cups of your bra, pulling it away from your body so he can cut it off with ease. Your shoulders tense but you don’t say your safe word and he drags the knife through the lace, removing it from your body.
Your teeth clench together, keeping the gasp in that you want to make. He just ruined hundreds of dollars worth of lace but it was sexy. Making your cunt clench as he cuts the panties from your body and tosses the ruined material to the floor. Your head stays down, although your breathing has picked up, shivering slightly.
Pero senses how your breath picks up, and he smirks, tossing the lace aside and he steps back so he can admire your body. Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Beautiful tits. Groomed thatch of curls above your cunt. “Who did you wear this for?” He asks and you remain silent, knowing he hasn’t told you you can talk. “You can speak.” He gives you permission, folding the knife and walking over to the dresser to grab the flogger.
“Myself, sir.” You keep your head down but your voice is steady. “I wanted to feel good.” You had every intention of using your toys and masturbating but things have turned out much better. Pero tuts, and you don’t think that he believes you.
“It deserved to be seen and appreciated but you’ve been naughty. Not telling anyone about what a dirty little girl you are. So I had to do it. And you need to be punished.” He sets the flogger down on the edge of the bed and grabs you, loving fast to drape you over his lap when he sits on the edge of the bed. “Now, you’re going to count. If you stop counting, we start again. Fifteen flogs for being so fucking dirty and hiding it. Remember your safe word, hermosa, and use it if you need to. I won’t be soft.” He wants, grabbing the flogger and bringing it down on your ass cheek.
That first bite of the flogger makes you cry out, eyes watering. “One!” You gasp out, sucking in a deep breath and feeling the pain radiate.
“One what?” Pero growls and you immediately try again.
“One, sir.” You amend, hoping that is what he wants.
Pero lets your insolence go, deciding to be kind seeing as this is your first night together. He rubs the skin for a second before he brings the flogger back down.
“Two, sir.” You gasp and he smirks, loving how wrecked you are already.
“Thirteen more to go.”
It wrecks you. Hit after hit with the flogger. You can tell that while his strikes are sharp, he doesn’t increase intensity like some do, nor does he pull back. Each strike is precisely measured and your skin feels like it’s on fire. Stinging welts raise and you whimper when his hand slides over them. “E-eight, sir!” You know that you have tears sliding down your cheeks, but you don’t try to brush them away. They are for Pero’s pleasure to see after he’s done.
You struggle when he gets to twelve, he can tell by the way you yelp but you don’t give your safe word. He even gives you some extra time between flogs, rubbing the skin. “Fuck. Fif-fifteen, si-sir.” You choke out and he sets the flogger down, grabbing your chin to turn your face towards him so he can admire your tears. “That’s what you get for dancing with that kid. You’re mine. My little whore.” He slaps your sore cheeks with his free hand and you cry out. “You loved this didn’t you?” He teases, sliding his hand between your thighs to find your soaking cunt. “Oh yes. You loved it. Dripping like the slut you are. You want me to touch you?” He asks, teasingly rubbing your folds but not sliding between them.
“Please sir, please.” You sob, your cunt aching already and you want to squirm down on his fingers, force him to touch you but you know that would just delay any relief. His touch, his teasing is making you crave more. “Please touch me, sir.”
He chuckles at your sobs, knowing you seem desperate for him to touch you. His fingers trail along your inner thighs, brushing your folds but never dipping in. He finally smacks your cunt with the palm of his hand, loving how wet it is when he pulls it back. “Lay down on the bed. I don’t want you to move an inch.” He orders, grabbing your hips and sliding you off of his lap to deposit you on the bed. He stands up, reaching for the silk ties with a smirk, his cock aching in his pants but he desperately wants you to walk away from here satisfied and aching for more.
Your chest heaves when you see the silk scarves. You had imagined rope, but this is even better. Biting your lip as you try to obey him, the urge to lift your hands to the headboard nearly makes you move, but you want to be good. Desperate for him to touch you, or better yet, fuck you. You still haven’t even seen his cock but you felt his length against your stomach when he had you over his lap.
Pero works fast, securing the silk to his headboard, opening the slats on the headboard he had made himself. Wanting something custom that didn’t look like what it was used for. He smirks and shuffles to straddle you, still in his slacks. “Arms up, hermosa.” He orders, working fast to secure you to his headboard and when you’re secure, he hums in appreciation. “Do you want me to touch you?” He asks, questioning you while he straddles your thighs.
“Yes sir.” You nod your head quickly, nearly breathless as you pull against the restraints. They are secure but not so tight you are uncomfortable. “I would like you to use me, sir. However you need, whatever you want, sir.” Having a dom that doesn’t allow you to say anything wouldn’t be fun either so you had said a little more than yes or no. How he reacts will tell you how strict he is.
He likes what you say, the look in your eyes has him throbbing so he reaches down to unbutton his pants, pulling his aching cock out. “I want to see what that smart little mouth can do.” He murmurs, shuffling closer until he’s straddling your chest. “Suck.” He demands, looking down at you while he grips his cock, pulling back the foreskin to expose the leaking head.
Shit, he’s uncut. Your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock and you know there’s no way he’s not going to make you gag. He’s thick and the dribble of precum makes you stick out your tongue like the eager little whore that you are so he can fuck your mouth.
The way you stick your tongue out has him chuckling deeply and he grants you mercy, shifting closer so you can wrap your lips around him. You flick your tongue over the tip and he hisses at how hot and wet your mouth is when you wrap your lips around him, eyes wide and innocent despite you being anything but. He rocks his hips, pushing deeper until he hits the back of your throat, only half way in your mouth.
You groan around him, loving how he fills your mouth. He doesn’t push too deep but he starts rocking his hips so he moves against your tongue. The salty burst of him makes your cunt clench and you try to open your throat even more so you can let him push past your gag reflex.
“Tranquillo.” He murmurs, watching tears spring to your eyes and he wants you to be able to take him down your throat but you can’t push yourself. He gently rocks into your mouth, wanting you to take him like a whore but this sexual relationship is built on mutual trust. He can’t push you too hard, he has to accommodate what you can and can’t do.
You appreciate the fact that he’s not pushing too much too fast. It’s been a long time since you’ve tried to train yourself to deepthroat. You moan softly around him, hoping that the vibration feels good against the head of his cock.
“Mierda.” Tovar grunts, reaching up to grab the edge of the headboard to balance himself so he can push his cock a little deeper. You choke around him but he murmurs, “relax. Take my cock. Be a good girl.” His whispers make you breathe harshly through your nose and he hums in delight when you take him a couple of inches deeper. “You’re doing so well, hermosa.”
Your praise kink makes you preen, eagerly wanting to make him happy. Wanting to give him exactly what he wants. For long minutes, he continues to pump his cock into your mouth at the same methodical attention to detail that he had flogged you, making sure he doesn’t overwhelm you. You appreciate it since your hands aren’t free to signal him or push him away.
He is close to cumming but he doesn’t want to cum down your throat, not tonight. He pulls out of your mouth, a string of saliva keeping you connected until it breaks. “Did so good. You want me to touch you?” He asks, shifting off of you to kneel between your thighs, pushing them apart and back so he can get a good look at your cunt. It’s dripping, a wet spot on the sheets below that makes his cock twitch. “Answer me.” He demands, slapping your thigh.
Your cry is sharp but you immediately nod. “Yes sir.” You gasp out. “Please touch me, sir. I need it.” Your thighs press together slightly, needing some friction but Pero’s body is keeping you from moving too much. “Please touch me, sir.” You beg, not caring that you sound pathetic.
“Since you asked so nicely…” Pero trails off, shifting to kneel between your legs. He pushes them back until your knees are in your chest, pressing them back enough for him to access your cunt and he spits on it, loving the way his saliva slides through your folds. With a hum, he leans in and pushes his tongue deep, loving the tangy taste of you as he widens his jaw to get as much of you as possible into his mouth.
You cry out his name, tugging on your restraints and you regret having him tie you to the bed for the first time. His hair was made for pulling and you want to feel the strands wrapped around your fingers. “Fuck!” You shudder as he flicks his tongue over your throbbing clit. “P-sir!” You almost said his name, but catch yourself while trying to twist yourself so you can see him.
He catches your mistake but he lets it slide. Tonight is an audition, if you want to see him again, he will punish you next time you do it. He sucks your clit into his mouth, fingers digging into your thighs and shifting to slide under your ass, tilting your hips so he can slide his tongue deep inside of you. Pressing his nose against your clit, he hums into your cunt, loving how you sound, how you taste.
It’s raw in the way that he seems to have you. The rasp of his tongue seems to just have the perfect rough edge to it in order to make you want to rock your hips up. You don't, though, you are supposed to let him do what he wants. “So good, sir. So fucking good.” You whine, closing your eyes and letting your nails dig into your palms slightly to ground you.
He can tell you’re close so he pulls back, loving the whine that escapes your lips. He reacts quickly, reaching up to grip your jaw, “are you complaining?” He growls at you, wondering what you’re whining about when he’s the one in charge.
The mewl you make is pathetic and you shake your head, denying that you are complaining. “No sir.” You whisper, wanting to be good for him. It’s hard when it’s been so long since you’ve cum from anything other than your own toys or fingers. It’s harder to let go this time since it has been so long but you want to be good for him.
“Good. Open your mouth.” Pero orders and you comply. He spits into your mouth, wanting you to taste yourself from him without kissing you, and he keeps his grip tight on your jaw. “Swallow like a good girl.” He demands, watching as you follow his order. “Good.” He lets go of your jaw, sliding his hand down your body to squeeze your breast and he pinches your nipple, loving the way you gasp. “You’re so desperate to cum. I bet I could make you cum just by doing this.” He slaps your tit, chuckling at your gasp, then he pinches your nipple again.
Moaning softly, your eyes close, giving yourself over to him. Not wanting to see what he does next. Needing to just experience it. It’s obvious Pero isn’t going to let you cum anytime soon, so you arch up when he slaps your tit again. “Fuck!” You gasp, enjoying the sharp sting of it and then the tug on your nipple that follows. Every since one them shooting straight to your cunt to make you burn even hotter.
God, you’re fucking perfect. Pliable and obedient. Sexy and so fucking needy. He can tell you’re holding yourself back. He chuckles and kisses your chest until he is taking your nipple into his mouth. He has to stretch you out for his cock so he pushes two fingers into your weeping cunt while he bites down on your nipple.
“Fuck, oh fuck.” You whimper, overwhelmed by the stretch of his fingers and his teeth on your breasts. Loving how your walls immediately clench down on h and tries to suck them in deeper. “Yes, so good. Fuck so good.” You pant breathlessly.
He presses his thumb to your clit, pushing a third finger inside of you to stretch you. He pumps them, curling them until you squeal his name. He smirks against your breast in victory, biting down on your other nipple after he kissed across your sternum. “Cum for me, cum and show me what a needy little slut you are. Want you to soak my fingers.” He orders, shifting so he can look at you, thumb rubbing your clit.
Your body immediately responds to the gruff order, stiffening as your cunt locks down around his fingers with a cry of sublime pleasure. The hot squelch of your cum gushes around his fingers as he pumps them into your spasming hole.
Pero works you through it then when you slump against the mattress, he withdraws his fingers and brings them to your mouth. “Taste yourself. Taste how delicious you are.” He orders, pushing his fingers into your mouth before you can decline.
You moan around his fingers, licking them clean over everything. Keeping your tongue twirling around the digits until he is pulling them free from your mouth. “Thank you, sir.” You murmur softly, looking up at him through hazy, satisfied eyes.
Pero hums in contentment at the easy way you react to him, instinctually following his lead. He doesn't have to explain everything, you just know. He shuffles off of the bed, cock still hard, and he walks over to the nightstand to grab a condom. He pushes his pants down, leaving him bare, and he rips the packet to roll the rubber down his cock. Kneeling on the bed, he reaches up to untie your hands from the frame. "Hands and knees. Now."
You move a little sluggishly, the bliss from your orgasm still making your limbs heavy but you turn over. Pushing up to your hands and trying to rock your ass out towards him. Of course Pero would like to fuck you from behind, it’s probably his preferred position. One of control and power. You don’t look over your shoulder because he didn’t give you permission.
Pero caresses your ass, skin still raised from the flogger and he can’t help but slap the skin again, making you cry out. He shifts, reaching down to grip his cock and he pushes into you in one thrust, knowing he’s worked you open enough. Leaning over you, he kisses along your shoulder before he bites down, loving how you whimper.
“Ohhhh fuck,” your head drops between your shoulder blades, gasping as he stretches you out. “You’re so big, sir.” You moan, your walls contracting around him as he holds still inside you.
“Mierda.” He grunts, knowing he could easily blow his load here and now but he won’t. He wants to savor this. You are perfect around him. “You’re so tight, hermosa. Fuck, so good for me. Taking all of it.” He grunts, pushing deeper inside of you as you open up for him, stretching around him and he looks down at your pussy lips. “Fuck.” He hisses.
You want to say his name, but you don’t. Your fingers twist in the sheets under you as you barely resist rocking back. “So good, sir. You feel so big inside me.” You moan, eyes closing at the way he throbs in your cunt. “Please, please move, sir.” You beg Pero, needing him to fuck you stupid. You want to ache like he promised you that you would.
Pero grabs your hips, fingers digging in, and he starts to fuck you. Hard. He gives no mercy, hammering into you and he nudges your knee with his, spreading you open even more. When you whine and reach back towards him, he grabs your wrists, bringing them together in his hand to both keep you still and control you. “You like this?” He asks and you don’t answer him. “Fucking answer me. You like this?” He repeats with a growl.
“Y-y-yes s-sir!” You squeal, unable to stay upright and falling onto your face as he continues to pound into you. All you can do is take and moan, making your noises muffled slightly by the covers but you love it. You will feel him tomorrow, and probably the day after that. He feels like he’s in your guts and you wish you could see what he looks like as he thrusts into you.
His jaw is clenched, sweat glistening on his forehead as he thrusts into you. He’s not gentle, you don’t want him to be. His free hand squeezes your tits, pinching your nipple and he looks down at you taking his cock again to see your puckered hole clenching. “Fuck.” He groans, leaning down to let his spit drip onto it, pressing his thumb against the skin.
You choke out a sound of surprise but you don’t clench up. Knowing that he is in charge. Instead, you let out a filthy moan as he presses a little harder and rubs, not enough to breach you, but you are panting. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”
“I’ll fuck you here another time.” He promises, rubbing the skin while his cock pushes deeper, his grip still tight on your wrists as he controls your body. He shifts his thumb to your clit, wanting you to cum, and his wrist turns over once he slides it down your torso so he can rub your bundle of nerves.
You almost choke out that there might not be another time, but you know you are lying to yourself. This is too good and you will put up with his archaic antics if it means that he fucks you like this when you need. Moaning in agreement, you feel your body start to tense up again, getting really to cum. “Sir-“
“Beg for it.” He can tell your close and he wants to hear your sweet cries, your pleas for mercy. Beg me to cum.” He says with each thrust inside of you, his fingers on your clit are unrelenting.
“Please, please, I need to cum.” You sob, his demand unleashing the torrent of babbling. “You’re too good, it’s- it’s too good, I want to cum.” You gasp out, hands flexing as he holds your writers. “Please sir, please please please let me cum, please.”
Usually, he’d pull out and make you writhe but tonight, he wants you to want him, to want to be in his bed again. He’s tortured you enough so he presses his thumb harder against your clit. “Cum for me. Cum for me, hermosa. Cum for me now.” He demands and you cry out, clamping down on his cock. He loves it and within a dozen thrusts, he’s pushing deep and spilling into the condom, your name on his lips as he bends over your body, trapping your hands between you.
You go boneless beneath him, moaning softly as your body relaxes and you try to catch your breath. Even though your entire body is relaxed, now your mind is starting to spin. Wondering if he was pleased and if he wanted you in his bed again. Wondering how this would play out at work, if he had been serious about being able to keep it separate. “It was good.” You mumble quietly.
Pero hums, kissing your shoulder, and he reaches down to grab the base of the condom, slowly pulling out of you. He’s quick to tie it off and toss it in the trash can he keeps in the corner, grabbing his boxers to pull them on, and he walks over to the bed. “It was excellent.” He tells you, “I’m gonna get you some toast and some water and you’re gonna lay here as long as you need to, if you wanna nap, you can nap. I have papers to finish grading.” He tells you, grabbing the cream he keeps in the drawer to rub onto your ass and he grabs the wet wipes to clean you up. “Are your wrists sore?” He asks, pulling the silks out of the slates so he can put them away. You shake your head and he adjusts you to lay you down on his pillows, covering you with the blanket. “I’ll be back.” He promises, walking out of the bedroom and j to the kitchen.
Laying in bed, you wonder if you should go. He is taking care of you, but he has every intention of leaving you here and going to work on his papers. It’s not exactly the aftercare you had been expecting but this isn’t like you are in a relationship. Sliding to the edge of the bed, you realize that you don’t have any underwear or a bra since he cut them off of you. Huffing to yourself, you stand, wincing at the flare of pain and shuffle to the bathroom so you can pee.
Pero knows he should pull you close and wrap around you, tell you how good you were, but he can’t do that again. Last time he let his heart get involved, it got stomped on and he doesn’t have time to nurse wounded feelings. He’s too busy with his work and writing his dissertation. He works in making you toast and turns just as you walk into his kitchen, wincing a little. “You, uh, wanna eat before you leave?” He asks softly, setting the plate down on the table.
“Thanks.” You don’t sit down, your ass still too tender for the hard wooden chair right now. Instead, you give him a smile and pick up the toast to eat it quickly. The sooner you can leave, the better for him apparently. Your dress covers you until you get home, so that’s all that matters and you can shower and decompress on your couch after. “I’ll be quick.”
Pero nods, “take your time. I, uh, I would like to do this again if you want to.” He says, a little nervous that you won’t want him again. Maybe he wasn’t rough enough or maybe he was too rough. He’s anxious and his Dom nature slips aside to reveal the insecure side of him ever since his ex had claimed he wasn’t enough.
“I would.” You admit quietly. “I just don’t want to bother you. So let me know.” He seems hesitant and you wonder if he’s just being polite. “If not, no hard feelings, okay?” It would probably be humiliating, because he knows what type of things you like. He’s been inside you. You swallow another bite of the toast, reaching for the water to take a sip. He’s not said anything and you don’t want to look at him in case he’s unhappy with you.
“No hard feelings? Did you - did you not enjoy yourself?” He frowns, leaning against the counter and wondering if he’s done something wrong. This is no longer Dom/sub stuff. This is between you and Pero. “I’d love to see you again but…if I was too much…I understand.” He says, a little briskly, feeling like he did satisfy you.
You shake your head, taking another bite of your toast. “It wasn’t too much.” You murmur softly. “It was perfect. It just seems like I didn’t please you.” You finally look up at him. “Since it- you know, I don’t know.” You blow out a sigh. “You just seem eager to get me out of your house. I know this is just- physical, but I just thought….” You shake your head again. “No, you’re right. I should go. It’s better to just keep it strictly, um, dom/sub dynamic outside of work.”
Pero frowns, walking over to you to grip your chin. “It feels like what?” He asks, wanting to know exactly what you’re thinking. He’s confused and he wonders why you’re pushing him away. He thought you had a good time tonight. He doesn’t understand why you want to leave so suddenly. “Do you…tell me what you think, hermosa.” He demands, wanting to know what you want.
You feel almost reassured by the pressure of his fingers gripping your chin and the slightly stern edge to his tone. “I had just thought that this would be us getting to know each other better.” You admit quietly. “Beyond the bedroom. But it’s okay.” You try to nod as if you aren’t having your face cradled. “I understand. This is just how you are.”
“Oh.” Pero frowns, shifting to sit down and he lets go of your chin. “I- I didn’t know if you wanted more or just the sex. Im sorry hermosa. I- I want to know more about you, I do.” He promises, knowing you might get tired of him but he wants to take the risk.
“It’s okay.” You shrug slightly. “If you don’t, that’s okay. Like you said, I should just focus on my work and use this as a release.” He had made it clear he thinks you are too emotional.
Pero feels awkward now and he knows that if he sits there, making conversation, it won’t be authentic. With a sigh, he stands up and takes your empty plate, “did you enjoy tonight?”
“I did, thank you.” Your time is obviously up, and you wonder if he’s always been this way. Instead of asking, you turn to start walking towards your purse. “I think I will go home and soak in a bath because you did it right.” You praise him. “Have a good night Pero.”
He nods, following you towards the front door and he opens it when you get your purse. “Drive safe.” He murmurs, “call me when you get home.” He demands, reaching for your arm, “I don’t text so call me. Let me know you’re safe.”
You snort, not commenting but thinking that it’s very Pero to not text. Instead, you nod and walk out to your car. Pero doesn’t close the door, he stands in the doorway and watches as you get in your car and back out of his driveway. You don’t live terribly far away, only about ten minutes and you can’t wait to soak in that bath.
Pero shuts his door and walks into his bedroom to change the top sheet, wanting to keep everything clean and tidy. When his cell doesn’t ring, he frowns and decides to call you. “Hello?” You answer and he grunts, “you didn’t call me to tell me you got home safe.”
“Sorry.” You don’t really think it’s a big deal, you are an adult. If you had left the party and driven home, you wouldn’t have called him. “I got home and got in the bath and got caught up reading.” You are out of the bath now, dressed for bed and honestly ready to sleep. “But I’m home and I’ll see you on Monday.”
Pero isn’t happy with your answer, partly wishing you had stayed with him so he could’ve run you a bath but you’ve made it clear where you stand. “Okay. I, uh, I’ll see you Monday. Goodnight, hermosa.” He murmurs, hanging up the phone and shoving it on his desk as he runs his fingers through his hair. It’s obvious you want sex and only sex, and he doesn’t disagree with that. It’s less complicated, especially considering your roles. He tries to continue grading his papers but fails, deciding to get into bed himself.
Your weekend passes too quickly. Checking some of your lessons for the coming week only takes an hour or so, but then you are still engrossed in your book and laundry, cleaning your place, meal prepping for the week. You had halfway anticipated Pero calling you again, but your phone stayed silent. So you did what you needed to, replayed that night with your wand pressed to your clit.
When Pero comes into work on Monday morning, he struggles to figure out the coffee machine but gets there in the end, sipping the hot brew as you come in to get your own coffee. William looks between you, sensing something is different but he can’t tell. “Morning.” Pero finally breaks the silence, looking over at you, ignoring the way William raises his eyebrows.
“Good morning.” You decided that you weren’t going to try to flirt or be coy with Pero. He wouldn’t appreciate that sort of thing. “William, you missed a nice dance for the kids.” You shift your eyes over to his friend. “Hopefully you treated Mae Lin to a good night out?”
William nods, “of course. We are working on baby number two.” The Irishman blushes a little and Pero is pleased for his friend. He knows that William and Mae Lin have something special. You prepare your coffee and Pero is pleased that you are okay, you seem to have recovered from his flogging. “Did you enjoy the dance?” William teases.
Pero rolls his eyes, “if you enjoy those horny bastards grinding on each other like it’s mating season.”
The fact that he didn’t even enjoy dancing with you or taking you home annoys you. Will, by all accounts, is Pero’s best friend and he is pretending like it didn’t happen. You snort and turn around from the coffee bar with a roll of your own eyes. “Yes, Tovar is much more suited for an eleventh century brothel.” You snort. “Pay a few coins to take care of his needs and then leave to continue selling his sword.” You’ve always thought Pero would have been a mercenary if he had lived in those times, he’s talked about their struggles enough and you had even teased him about the full armor he has that is a replica of the time. LARPING is apparently not something Pero Tovar does, although you had enjoyed teasing him about it. “Don’t expect him to admit to enjoying anything that isn’t torturing his students or reminiscing about the ‘good ole days’.” Pushing away from the counter, you stride towards the door, annoyed with yourself for caring. “I need to get ready for my first class.”
Pero watches you go with a little longing in his eyes, he didn’t want to disrespect you by talking about you in front of William. He doesn’t want to have the other professors overhear and gossip about you. He stands up, without a word, and strides out of the break room and down the hall to your office.
“Bye then, arsehole!” William shouts from the break room but Pero ignores him, quickly moving to open your office door.
“You’re mad at me.” He declares as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him.
“Nope.” You pop the p of your answer and don’t bother looking up at him. Staring at your computer screen and checking your emails. “I am getting ready for my class, like you should be doing.” This is what he wanted, wasn’t it? You are a little hurt, but you’ll get over that. You and Pero weren’t friends before you let him fuck you, so it stands to reason that he wouldn’t let you become more friendly after.
He huffs, placing his hands on his hips, “I didn’t think you’d want me to tell William what we did this weekend while other people were listening. Even us dancing together would be off brand for us. I- I can’t stop thinking about how you looked, how you felt, how you tasted. I want you again. I want you in my bed again.” He reveals, “I don’t want to forget that it happened because I want to do it again.”
That makes you look up at him, jaw dropped because of the sheer emotion in his voice. It’s impassioned. “You didn’t call.” You murmur softly, admittedly hurt that he hadn’t reached out at all. “So I thought you changed your mind.”
Pero sighs, “I didn’t call because I didn’t think - I wanted you to recover. I wasn’t easy on you and I didn’t think you could take more than one session. Let me fuck you again. I want this to be…I want to continue doing this.”
You lean back in your chair and watch him for a moment. You aren’t in the dom and sub roles right now and Pero shifts uneasily, like he’s uncomfortable. “Okay.” You decide after a moment. “Tonight? Or do you want to leave it for the weekends?”
“Now.” Pero demands, reaching over to flick the lock of your office door. “I want you now. Stand up, take your panties off under that dress and place your hands on the desk.” He demands, working on his belt buckle to pull it through the loops. He is half hard just seeing you sitting there, remembering how you were in his bed when he was inside of you.
The fact that he wants you now makes your cunt clench. It’s not exactly the dynamic that you had at his house, but it’s still forceful and it makes you stand up and quickly pull your skirt up so you can strip down your panties and kick them off. Watching him as you place your hands on the desk and wait to see what he’s going to do.
He grabs his belt, looping it in his hands and he steps closer to you. “Safe word.” He murmurs and you say it clearly, making him hum. “If you want me to stop, slam your hand on the desk twice.” He says, “open your mouth.” You follow his order and he places the leather strap in your mouth, working to secure it around your head, the rest of the leather hanging down your neck. “I need you to be quiet.” He says, reaching for the metal ruler you keep on your desk. He grabs it and brings it to your cheek, slapping you gently with it. “Be a good girl for me.” He murmurs, “then you can go teach your little class.” He slides the ruler down your chest, brushing your nipples with the edge.
You shudder, both from the edge of the ruler catching on your breast through the bra and your shirt, and the sexiness of the entire situation. You aren’t going to be able to sit in your office and think of anything else from now on. Moaning quietly against the leather, you close your eyes and breath through your nose. Already starting to drip, you push your ass out slightly to entice him.
He trails the ruler down your stomach, glad your skirt is pushed up, and you keep your hands on the desk. “Don’t move. Do not make a sound.” He growls into your ear, bringing the ruler down to your cunt, pushing it between your folds until the cold metal touches your clit.
Inhaling sharply, it’s so hard to not move as he does what he wants to you. Making your walls flutter and your stomach curl in pleasure as he rubs the metal against your clit, warming the metal up with your hot cunt. You try to steady your breathing, but it hard when all you want to do is beg him to fuck you.
He rubs your clit with the metal ruler, pulling it away and you whine around the leather, but he doesn’t make you wait because he brings the ruler down on your clit, slapping it with the metal.
Your small cry is muffled by the leather between your teeth, making sure no one walking past the office knows what’s happening in here. It makes you even wetter to know that he would do these types of things outside the comfort and safety of his own space. “Fuck.” You pant, words inaudible and look over at him, loving the dark lust swirling in his eyes.
He slaps your clit again, loving how you moan against the leather, and he sets the ruler down on the desk. “Stay there.” He demands, working on unbuttoning his pants to pull his hard cock out. He reaches for his wallet, pulling out the condom he keeps in there and he tosses the wallet onto his desk, the condom wrapper falling to the floor, and he rolls it down quickly. “Fuck. You’re dripping. You like this, don’t you? Being my little whore at school.” He murmurs, nipping the skin behind your ear as he grips his cock. He kicks your ankle, spreading your legs wider, and he pushes inside of you in one thrust, knowing you don’t have a lot of time.
Your back arches in pleasure and pain from the intrusion. Having him spear up into you forcefully takes your breath away and you gasp behind the belt. That beautiful ache returns almost instantly and you are pushing back against him desperately. He’s right, you do love this happening right here, love the thrill of being in your office. In public.
He loves how reactive you are but he needs you to cum quickly so he pushes you forward, pressing you against your desk, onto your papers. “Hands stay on the desk.” He orders, thrusting into you. It’s rough and it’s dirty, your moans muffled and he grabs the ruler again, pushing it between you to rub your clit. “So needy for my cock, you’ll even take it in your office. Such a good little whore for me.” He coos into your ear, slapping your clit with the ruler again.
You whine, clenching around him and rolling your eyes back when he slaps your clit again. It’s feeding into all your needs right now and every thrust strikes against that spot inside you that makes your legs shake. The desk is sturdy enough that it doesn’t move but the container of pens and markers shake and jolt on the surface and the slap of his thoughts against yours becomes audaciously loud.
He fucks you hard and fast, needing you to fall apart around him before you’re late to your first class. He slaps your clit again, “cum for me, hermosa. Cum on my cock like a good girl.” He orders, pushing deep inside of you.
It doesn’t take long to obey him. Five hard thrusts later, you are stiffening up. Your cunt locking down around him and there’s a very serious concern that you might ruin his pants with the flood of cum that gushes out of you. Your cry against the wet leather is louder than before but you don’t care, riding out your high before you slump against the desk and pant.
Pero tosses the ruler down on the desk, grabbing your hips to keep you still as he works you through your orgasm and heads into his own. “Mierda, mi puta. I- fuck. Me voy-” He cuts himself off with a grunt as he buries his cock deep and fills the condom. Your name a groan on his lips.
You know there won’t be any aftercare this time, not where you are. You whine when he’s pulling out of you after a few seconds and you push yourself up. Watching him remove the condom and tie it off as you reach back to unbuckle his belt from around your head. Now you need to straighten your appearance to get ready for your class.
Pero takes the belt, admiring your teeth marks, and he quickly tucks himself away and puts the belt back on. “I want to see you tonight at my place.” He murmurs, stepping towards you to grip your chin, “I want you to be in my bed again.”
You hum quietly, looking into his eyes and you want to ask if it’s just for another session but you don’t. You nod. “Okay. I’ll come to your house after my last class.” You agree, certain that he would send you home after.
Pero leans in to kiss your forehead before he steps away from you, adjusting his shirt and tie before making his way to his office to get what he needs for his first class. Tonight, he wants to treat you properly, show you how good he can be. This is purely sex but for some reason, the lines are already blurring. His dislike for your modern ways ebbing away and he finds himself liking you more and more.
You giggle slightly to yourself as you finish getting ready for your class. You had gone to the Valentine’s dance for your college because you were bored and there was nothing else to do. Now you are walking into your class with a sore cunt, a dom, and a date for him to make you cum again. Maybe Pero isn’t so bad after all.
#pero tovar#pero tovar x reader#pero tovar x f!reader#pero tovar x you#pero tovar smut#pero tovar fanfiction#pero tovar imagine#pero tovar the great wall#tovar x you#tovar x reader#modern pero tovar
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Happy New Year Mr. Mouse
A short thing I prepared in honor of this occasion. I'm aware Mickey Mouse is not public domain outside of the US and that Disney can still use their trademark laws and fancy lawyers. But this means so much to me in just what I've believed about copyright for years. Disney isn't the main villain in the fight for a more robust public domain but they certainly are and were one of the big ones. It feels nice. Let us celebrate. Here is a short fic I wrote in the Mouse's honor on this day. Happy public domain day everyone!
An anthropomorphic mouse, wearing overalls and a hat arrived at the local bar. He distinctly was wearing no gloves, something unusual for this time of year given how cold it could get but most of the other bar flies didn't think much of it.
"I'm sort of part of the gang now boys, give me a frosty one to celebrate"
The bartender was a woman wearing a scarf and steampunk looking goggles resting on her head.
"Ah the king himself joining my little bar, you know what for the occasion its on the house" the woman said, pouring the mouse a beer and sliding it over to him.
"Name's Jenny" she said. "And you need no introduction. You're Mickey Mouse, right?"
"That's right ma'am"
"You know you just being in here is gonna upset some powerful people right?"
"I've served my 95 years, I deserve to be here" Mickey said, proceeding to take a long chug at his beer.
"I don't argue with that, in fact some of the folks around here have been counting the days. Congrats"
"Thank you"
"Seen my brother around?"
"Oswald?" Jenny asked.
"Well, yeah I guess I should've been more specific"
"Yeah he's always around somewhere. I'm sure he'd be happy to see you"
There werent many people in the bar, people could come and go but there was certain requirements for entering Jenny's Public Drinkery. The crowd that day was mostly a few regulars like Sherlock Holmes a detective type with a deerstalker hat or Winnie the Pooh, a yellow-ish brown bear distinctly lacking any red shirts in fact he had burnt all his red shirts on the first day he arrived.
People found it to be odd but it wasn't uncommon for people to destroy something that symbolized their previous cosmic shackles that tethered them to the unseen forces beyond their control. They relished in their newfound freedom.
Besides those two there was Yrina, a blonde woman wearing odd looking pink clothes and blue gloves, like a flashy looking cosmonaut. She had arrived wet and disoriented and talking about sea monsters yet didn't elaborate.
"Mickey, cheers to your freedom. Cheers to all our freedoms" Yrina said, being already on her way to being drunk despite her only having been there for an hour or so. "Never take it for granted Mickey"
She proceeded to chug a huge mug of ale and slam the tankard down on the table, demanding a refill which Jenny obliged.
"Sorry about Yrina, she's a space pirate and her manners could use a bit work" Jenny whispered to Mickey.
Changing her volume she said: "You know Mickey, we were kind of not sure how this day would go. I was thinking of throwing a party for you with all your siblings and stuff. But I guess chatting to me and these three is your welcome party. Sorry about that"
"No ma'am its fine. You've been kind. I can mingle later on and this is nice. I do know Winnie, him and I go way back" Mickey raised his glass in the direction of Winnie and nodded.
"You're very kind to be there when folks like me break free. From what I've heard it can be disorienting and overwhelming and being here now I can vouch for that.
"Yeah that's why I built this place. I wanted to be there for everyone. To give them a welcome"
"How do you have time to greet all these people?"
"I'm Jenny Everywhere, I can handle more things than you can shake a stick at"
"You certainly made me feel welcome and at ease. I think I'll sit here for a while and take it in and then try to find Oswald"
He took off his hat and threw it in the garbage can next to him.
"Happy New Year everyone" Mickey cheered, met with equal enthusiasm from everyone there.
#public domain#corsair queen#mickey mouse#sherlock holmes#winnie the pooh#jenny everywhere#fiction#my writing#disney
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a dream is a wish your heart makes
words: 1,287
ship: austin butler x reader
summary: (anon request) “sequel to Disney proposal fic”
notes: this is a small part 2 to ‘full of magic’, you should read that first :)
warnings: none
tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted, @rairaielv
You'd never consider yourself that much of a worrier, there's never seemed like much of a point. In your opinion, worrying is just gonna mean that you'll suffer twice, so, why bother? Clearly in all the times you've told yourself this, you were never planning a wedding—so what do you know?
You know that wedding planners exist and that maid of honors and family members usually help with this sort of thing, getting all your ducks in a row...because at this point all you feel like you're doing is putting out small fires for something else to pop up in your peripherals but. One of the mistakes you think you make is that you kind of insist on doing everything on your own. And so much of it feels doable? You make lists all the time and get shit done and only accept help when you absolutely need it—but then a year turns into five months and now you're at three and then one and...you're worried about a day that's supposed to be one of the most perfect in your life.
And maybe that's the issue. Too much pressure for a 'perfect' day and not allowing anyone to take things off your plate (or well, checklist). You can figure out most of this on your own, right?
Right...that's why you're drowning in a sea of paperwork on your dining room table and you've lost at least two mugs underneath somewhere. Swallowed up. You frown—you're beginning to forget what this table actually looks like beneath.
The thing is, everything major is booked—this is just the little things, which are somehow worse and more stressful. These are the placecards, the flowers, the reception favors, the small cards and giftcards for the caterers and other people who are gonna work to make this wedding perfect.
"What was I thinking?" You mumble, shifting papers around. Getting proposed to at Disney was one thing...but now getting married? Whole other can of worms.
Of course, it seemed like such a good idea at the time--why wouldn't it? You were also completely swept up in the romanticism of having a Disney wedding. Austin was willing to spend any expense, even though you insisted that you didn't need to. You had joked about having your wedding at Disney once and that was kind of the end of it, those comments became checklists, and those checklists became plans. To be fair, it's not that you're not excited...even though you're incredibly stressed, it's just...it almost feels like part of a dream. Though how could it not when you're going to get married in the most magical place on earth?
Admittedly, you love Disney—you've always been a huge fan even though it's taken you a bit to get there. You're definitely able to associate perfect memories with Magic Kingdom, given that's where Austin proposed to you. Being with him within itself feels magical, so—and you know how corny that can sound on the outside, but...you're not gonna deny that's how it feels. So how can you pass up that opportunity to continue it there?
There's this gazebo before the Boardwalk near the Beach Club resort and it overlooks the bay, the Swan and Dolphin and Yacht Club resort. It's simple, beautiful but there's so many hoops to jump through, I's to dot, T's to cross. You run a hand over your face, pinching the bridge of your nose as you close your eyes.
You feel rather than see Austin come into the room, his hand slipping along the back of your shoulders and running down your back. He leans down and presses a kiss to your head, a small shiver coursing down your spine as you catch a hint of his cologne.
"I keep having nightmares I'm gonna get buried under paper."
Austin chuckles lightly, squeezing your shoulder before slipping into a chair next to you. "You're gonna give yourself a migraine—you know we got other people to help you with this, right? Including me?"
You sigh a bit dramatically and tip your head back before rolling your gaze to your fiancé. "I know," You reply quietly, a soft smile tugging the corners of your mouth, "I just keep thinking about everything that needs done and I get tunnel vision."
He hums before nodding, reaching for a few pieces of paper aside. He knows you, doesn’t need to elaborate on that—he gets exactly how you’re feeling. But he’s also right. You can’t take utter control over all of this. For starters, there’s way too much to do that you can easily delegate to some other people to help and secondly, the last thing you want to do is associate your wedding with negative feelings of stress and general ickiness.
Alright, fine. You’ll get some help, stop trying to control everything, because it’s not possible anyways.
“I guess I just wanted everything to be perfect.” You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you push the chair back from the table. You turn your body, facing Austin, knowing how cliché that sounds.
You should know better, at this point, than to be a perfectionist—there’s no good reason to be. And yet it’s difficult to stop when those nagging thoughts come rolling in. Austin’s pretty good at shushing them, though, sometimes with a simple touch. He shifts slightly in his chair to take a look at you, brushing your hair over your shoulder in a fond gesture. He gives you this look which you know says—you worry too much.
“It will be.”
You crinkle your nose because…you know that Austin is an optimist but, “How can you know that?”
He holds your gaze for a long moment and before he speaks, you can tell how serious he is about the words that are going to leave his mouth, an emotion you can’t quite name in the depths of his blue eyes, “Because I’ll be with you.”
And despite the fact that there’s a slight glimmer of added mischief a moment later in his gaze, you know he wasn’t kidding. You laugh softly and roll your eyes, making Austin grin.
He takes your hand and squeezes, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “What, you didn’t like that? I was gonna make it part of my vows.”
You playfully push his cheek with your other hand but he’s quick, grabbing it and using it as leverage to tug you closer, kissing you.
Needless to say, you definitely have a necessary distraction for the afternoon.
--
And it is pretty perfect, as if you had any reason to doubt or think otherwise.
You think one of the most surprising aspects is just how fast everything goes—all that planning and worrying for it to be over and done in the blink of an eye, in the flash of a camera bulb, a heartbeat.
You go back to where Austin’s proposed before you both leave Florida for your honeymoon, standing in front of Cinderella’s castle, looking down at the ring on your finger. A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, running your thumb over the underside of the band. The sky is orange this time, candied pink, as the sun dips down behind the soft blue and silver structure.
To face the future with another, who means more than any other, is to be loved.
You can’t help but smile as you feel Austin come up behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, your jawline and your cheek before you turn your head and your lips brush. Your thumb runs over his wedding band.
That’s definitely the magic of love.
--
The line in italics come from the Disney movie The Rescuers.
#austin butler#austin butler x reader#austin butler imagine#austin butler fic#mccall writes things#elvis 2022
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Magnet
I guess ideas pop up when I’m busy not when I’m bored..
Aaron Hotchner X G.N. Reader
You played with your straw as you thought of your friends while waiting for Aaron.
Everyone in the BAU had the same goal, to catch criminals using behavioural science. They were really different. And except for one, everyone was a magnet for certain people. Sure, as profilers and FBI agents, they were magnets for troubles and criminals, but excluding that, that is.
“You’re early,” a gruff voice said behind you.
You raised your brows at your boyfriend, who was wearing a passive-aggressive scowl on his handsome face.
“Something happened? You’re usually happy to see me,” you pouted.
“Usually?” Aaron huffed. “Every day, every minute, I’m happy to see you. I just had bad traffic.” Aaron took off his muffler and snow-frosted coat.
He quickly ordered coffee, his scowl already turned to the impassive stoic face he usually wears when he deals with people who are not family. The young waiter quickly scurried away as soon as he received the order.
“So what were you thinking?” Aaron asked curiously.
“Thinking that each BAU member was a magnet for specific people.”
Aaron raised his brows. “You lost me.” You laughed and started to explain how you came to that conclusion.
Dave attracted his fans. Whoever recognised him wanted to have a conversation or asked for his autograph. Also, women. He was a well-known Casanova, after all. Though you thought the womaniser trophy goes to Derek.
Derek, well, obviously, with women regardless of their profession. Even FBI agents and police officers ogle at him.
Aaron chuckled so far, thanking the waiter for bringing the coffee.
“I think they’re the most specific magnets, Dave and Derek,” you hummed as you poked your piece of cake with a fork.
“Five more to go,” Aaron gave you a small smile as he sipped the coffee.
Emily and JJ definitely attracted many people with their beauty. But you thought they attracted different sorts of guys. Whereas Emily would attract tough and rather dominant guys, JJ would attract romantic men, even naive and innocent.
Spencer, with his brain, people who have several degrees, professionals in their field, or just another genius like him. Besides, he was approachable to young people.
“Or nerds,” Aaron added with a grin.
“That’s not nice,” you threw a tissue ball at Aaron. But you couldn’t contain your laugh and soon laughed together with Aaron.
Penny would, well, she was everyone’s friend. If she was to stray into the ocean, you were sure she’d make a friend with the ocean, just like Moana from Disney. Penelope Garcia was a magnet for all sorts of things, not only humans.
“I believe even computer programs like Garcia,” Aaron smirked, hiding away behind the coffee mug. He put down the coffee and watched you eat your cake. “What about me?”
“You?”
“I’m a member of the BAU, am I not?”
“But you’re not my friend.” Aaron frowned. “You’re my boyfriend and best friend. I was thinking about my friend.”
Aaron smiled warmly at your reply. Clearly loving how you explained it.
“Besides, you’re not a magnet.” He waited for you to talk, just looking at you. “You’re a natural-deterrent.”
“What?” Aaron snorted a laugh. “Is that even a word?”
“I dunno,” you shrugged. “But if Shakespeare can create new words, I can too. Anyway, with your face and authoritative aura, people avoid you. You know, the waiter who served you just now. The poor boy practically ran away from you.”
Aaron rolled his eyes. Then he suddenly grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Now I think of it, I know I am a magnet for a certain person.”
You hummed inquisitively.
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” He gave you a devilish smile. “You follow wherever I go.”
“That’s because of our job,” you huffed.
“But you’re attracted to me, are you not?” Heat flared on your face. “Or may be, you’re the magnet.” Aaron softly smiled. “I’m too much attracted to you, and sometimes it’s hard to breathe because I love you so much.”
“That’s,” you gulped, your heart pounding in your chest. “That’s cheating,” you mumbled. “I love you too, Aaron."
“I love you more, F/N.”
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#Agent Hotchner#Criminal Minds#criminal minds fanfic#dave rossi#derek morgan#spencer reid#jj#emily prentiss#Penelope Garcia#gender neutral reader
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“So…” Dean licked the grease off his fingers one by one - that had been the best bacon. “Do you wanna build a snowman?”
Cas’s bacon sandwich paused on its way to his mouth. He frowned. “Am I expected to sing a response?”
“No! It’s from Frozen. You know, the one with Elsa and Anna and that snowman-dude? Let it go?”
Cas glanced down at his sandwich.
“Not the sandwich, the song - Let it go.” Dean cleared his throat: “Let it go, let it go, can’t hold it back anymore!”
“Can’t hold what back?”
This definitely deserved an eye-roll. “Are you winding me up? We watched Frozen, didn’t we? You remember? When Jack went through his Disney princess phase.”
“Oh.” Cas smeared his sandwich around the rim of his plate to pick up a blob of ketchup. Ketchup on bacon. Now there was an abomination, in Dean’s opinion. “I recall the phase,” said Cas. “But the movies have all blended together in my mind. So many songs. So many colours. So many strangely-proportioned animated characters.” He leant toward Dean. “The over-large eyes were most intimidating. And the tiny waists.”
Cas’s eyes were very large and very blue. It crossed Dean’s mind that he’d look good in a ballgown.
“Yeah, well, anyway - Do you wanna build a snowman?”
Cas glanced toward the window. “Does it have to be a man?”
Dean’s eyes were going to roll right out of their sockets in a minute. “No. It can be a snow anything. I just thought it’d be fun to go out and, you know - play around a bit. Have you ever played in the snow?”
“No, Dean. Have you?”
“Of course. Not for a while. A long time.” He scratched the side of his jaw. He hadn’t shaved in a few days. Maybe he should just let it grow. Let it grow, let it grow. When was the last time he’d been somewhere it’d snowed and he’d had time to lob a few hard-packed snowballs at his brother? “It snowed one time at Bobby’s.”
Cas took Dean’s plate and stacked it on his own. “Humans need time to play.” He reached out to clear away the ketchup bottle, but paused, his long fingers turning it around in place, his eyes unfocussed, a small soft smile lifting one side of his lips. “They used to play all the time. There was a settlement by a lake and I’d hover in the morning mist and watch them as they came out of their cave. The little ones would always be first, running around in circles and making the birds fly up around me. The adults would be slower - preparing food, helping the elderly… but they were just as lighthearted as the little ones. There was always laughter, always a song or a story, always a way to make the work of gathering or hunting into a game. Their lives were so simple. So full of joy.”
Their cave? Dean held tight to the handle of his coffee mug. The old wooden table was solid beneath his elbow, the chair wobbled slightly as he shifted, either because the legs were uneven or the floor was.
“You’re one of them now. One of us.” Would he always doubt? Would there always be that little niggling feeling that one day, Cas would decide, ‘enough with the human crap,’ and find a way to get his wings back?
The empty coffee mug was pulled gently from his grasp and two warm hands enfolded his.
“Dean.”
He looked up. And you’d think all those memories would show in Cas’s eyes. You’d think it’d be like staring down an endless tunnel, or like that bit in Doctor Who where the kid Time Lords get forced to look into the time vortex. You’d think it’d be like being a gnat under a microscope. But it was just Cas. Just Cas, looking at Dean - and he had a smear of ketchup on his chin.
Dean smiled. “Let’s go outside.”
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Today's International Tea Day!
So I wanted to share some reviews of the Star Wars-inspired teas that Friday Afternoon released on May 4th.
Friday Afternoon is one of my fav indie tea shops, and their teas are both delicious and full of fandom fun. Plus, the shop's super queer! Please give them some love if u want some tea! (no this message isn't sponsored. I just love them, and am ecstatic they finally have SW teas!)
Also wanted to show off the new Star Wars x Starbucks destination mugs too!
Descriptions, mini reviews, and links beneath cut!
First tea: Light Side!
Presented in the Coruscant destination mug.
Ingredients from their site: White tea, black tea, lemon peel, ginkgo biloba, sunflower petal, natural vegan cream flavoring
I usually don’t go for white teas, but this was a really nice floral, with a delicate aroma but surprisingly strong flavor! I enjoyed it both hot and iced.
Dark Side
Ingredients from their site: Aged dark tea, cacao nib, ginger, granulated honey, clove, natural chocolate flavoring
This one's much more the kind of tea that I usually gravitate towards! It's definitely dark, rich, and spicy, a little earthy, and it has a kick! I wouldn't necessarily call it sweet, but it tastes like the color "burned dark red so dark it's brown." I've only tried this one hot so far, but I really like it!
Both of these teas are NOT currently available on their site, but will return during their winter fandom rotation on 12/1. Here's the link anyway! They have a ton of other awesome teas currently available though, and I super recommend you check them out!
Lastly,
The Mugs
Past few years, Disney's always released 3 "destination mugs" on May 4th in collaboration with Starbucks. They're meant to look like the destination mugs at Starbucks stores sold around the world, except they're Star Wars planets! This year, they released Jakku, Coruscant, and Mustafar.
While I really liked the Jakku one too, these mugs are expensive, and I already have too many mugs. So I just got my two prequels ones! They're nice, big mugs, and I think the wrap around art and the variety of scenes depicted are very charming.
As of writing this post, Jakku and Coruscant are still available on Shop Disney, but Mustafar appears to have sold out. They're always limited edition and go fast! (hoping they do Kamino next year...!)
#YukiPri reviews#YukiPri merch#Star Wars#Friday Afternoon Tea#Teas#indie teas#fandom teas#star wars merch#Coruscant#Mustafar
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TASTING THE ASHES | Ch. 8: Family ✍️
Wordcount: 1.8k
Warnings: mentions of events in seeing red, mentions of death and murder, mentions of guns, pregnancy stuff, fluffy big bro Jake and a himbo Rooster.
A/N: FINALLY SOME ASH AND ROOSTER INTERACTION WHOOOOO
Important: This story is a sequel of Seeing Red, and there’s a lot of things you’ll miss if you don’t read that series first. Check Seeing Red! Masterlist on pinned.
I don’t tag people, follow @meigalibrary for notifications!
You wake up earlier than anyone. Actually, you couldn't sleep. There were too many things in your head, impeding you from falling asleep.
It was a long day.
When you woke up that morning, you were alone in the world with your babies.
When you got into bed last night, you had a father, a brother, and the father of your twins all reunited in the same bar.
It was a really long day.
"You're up."
Jake enters the room as you turn around on the kitchen stool you've been sitting on for the past hour.
"Sorry, I couldn't sleep, and I wanted some milk, but... I didn't want to intrude." You mutter, rubbing your baby bump.
Jake smiles, opening the fridge and getting the milk. "I make excellent hot chocolate with marshmallows. You want?"
You smile a bit, nodding. In an instant, he begins making hot chocolate. "I think I'm your big brother now."
"Never had a brother."
"I never had a sister. Or a family, actually. Until Red came, I was alone. Then I met Mav, Penny and Amelia." He says while taking a mug from the cupboard.
"But you had parents." You frown when he laughs at your words. "Come on, it can't be that bad. My mom hid who my father was my whole life."
Jake takes a breath and turns around, looking you dead in the eye. "My father was SJAC's CEO; he murdered my grandpa and my unborn brother; kidnapped my son; pointed a gun to my wife's head while she was pregnant; and my mother tried to kill me when I was a baby."
You blink, not knowing what to do or say. "...you win."
"Oh, I know." He chuckles, looking at the inside of the mug. "He's dead now, I can finally live the life I always wanted."
"Dead?" You feel a cold shiver running down your back.
"I don't know if I should tell this to a pregnant woman."
"I'm a wizzo, Jake. I can take it." You protest, rolling your eyes.
Jake sighs. "Well, we're family now. I don't think we should keep things to ourselves. I'll tell you what happened to my father if you tell me why you didn't tell Rooster you were pregnant."
"Deal."
"Red killed him to save me."
You freeze, almost certain that Jake can hear the wheels in your head trying to process the information. Red? Your Red? The girl that cried at Disney movies and puppies? That man must have been a fucking nightmare to make her do something like that. You don't really need more information, though. It feels like something she should tell you.
"I didn't know if I was gonna keep the babies." You admit it; your head is bowed in shame. It's only half the truth, but it's something, at least. "My body, my choice, right?"
"Absolutely. You were alone, pregnant… The father is a guy you've only seen a couple of times. There's no need to be embarrassed." He shrugs, giving you a mug of hot, sweet chocolate with marshmallows. "Careful, it's hot."
"Thank you, Jake." You place your hands around the warm mug, heating your frozen hands.
"So, none of us had a real family until recently. Maybe we can learn what that means. Together."
“That would be really nice.” You grin, feeling your heart full for the first time in months. You've never had a family of your own. You only had your mom, and while she was the most amazing human ever, loving and caring, sometimes you felt like you were missing things.
Seeing your brother make you hot chocolate might be one of them.
He smiles, grabbing another mug. “I’ll make another one before the other pregnant lady comes down here and starts crying because there’s no chocolate for her.”
You laugh, taking one of the marshmallows out of the mug. “She’s a crier, huh?”
“I love how different the hormones make her be. It’s like a whole different person. Do you cry?”
You shake your head. “No, I get angry.”
“Poor himbo.”
Before you can ask him who this himbo is, someone rings the doorbell. “Were you expecting anyone?”
“Mav is supposed to drop by for lunch. Drink the chocolate. I’ll go see who it is.”
Jake leaves the kitchen, and you, not giving a damn about whoever is on the other side of the door, drink your hot beverage like it's the last thing you’re going to eat in the world. Another thing about pregnancy is that you are always hungry.
Well, you’re eating for three now. You’re allowed to eat more than normal.
“Rooster, I’m not letting you inside.”
“Jake, come on. I need to talk to her!”
You feel bad for Rooster. Poor guy just woke up one day and discovered that he was going to be a father. And you've been ignoring him ever since because you weren't ready to have this conversation.
You get up from the chair, pacing around the kitchen while thinking what to do. He did use a condom, he did all he was supposed to do. He was there when you woke up, cuddling with you in his sleep, a content smile adorning his face. He was everything a girl could have asked for in a one night stand. Like everything. Probably one of the best nights of your life but…
Things were too complicated. He had a light in his eyes that you didn't want to extinguish with your trauma.
It was better to run away. Avoid the problem. Like it never happened.
But two small creatures decided to remind you that it did happen. And that you couldn't avoid it forever.
That you couldn't avoid him forever.
Padding slowly to the main entrance, you see both men arguing. Jake is shaking his head while trying to close the door. Rooster's feet stopping the door.
"Jake." You mutter, both men freezing at your voice. "Let him in."
Jake points a finger toward Rooster’s face. "You upset her in any way and I'll kick you out. Is that clear?"
Rooster nods, clearing his throat. "Absolutely clear."
The door is open, and Rooster, instead of running inside, stays there, looking at you and your swollen belly. Fear, excitement, and happiness can all be felt in that stare. He's ready to have those babies, even if he doesn't know anything about being a father.
"Hi," he whispers, moving half a step closer to you, as if he were afraid of you rejecting him again.
"Hi." You whisper back, rubbing your belly. He follows your hand movement, and you swear you can feel his hand twitching, as if he wanted to be the one doing it.
"Can we talk?" There's desperation in his words. He's been waiting for hours for you to give him a chance to speak. You nod, moving to the living room, and sit on the big black sofa.
He sits next to you, leaving space between your bodies so you don't feel overwhelmed. You want to smile at his cute actions. "First of all… I'm sorry that you're pregnant. And correct me if I'm wrong, but we use a condom, right?"
You snort, understanding why that's his first concern. "Yeah, we did."
"Then I don't get it."
"Rooster, condoms are effective 98% of the time." He opens his eyes widely, looking at you without blinking. "Wait, you didn’t know that?"
"No? They should put that on the box!" He protests, running a hand through his hair.
"It's in the box."
He stares at you for a second. "Well, then I'm an idiot. But anyway, I wanted to tell you that I'll be there every step of the way. Doctor appointments, taking care of you when you're too big, baby proofing the apartment…"
You smile at his sweet words. He'll be a good father.
"...even though that will be something to worry about after we get married."
You turn your head so fast in his direction that you think you've pulled a muscle. "Wait, married?"
He nods, as if getting married were the most natural thing in the world. "Yeah, we should get married. We're going to have babies. It's the right thing to do."
"Yeah, when you're in love! But we're not in love, Rooster. We barely know each other."
"Well, we can get to know each other along the way!" He insists. "Look, being a single mom is hard with a baby, but you're gonna have two. You need help, sweetheart."
You glare at him, eyebrows raised. "I'm more than capable of raising two kids on my own. And I'm not alone, I have a family now."
"I'm part of that family, Ash. Mav is my godfather."
You groan, covering your face. "Look, Rooster, and now that I keep calling you that because I don't even know your name."
"It's Bradley."
"Bradley…Bradshaw?"
"80s were a bad era to have a baby."
"It's like… Matt Murdock and Peter Parker. Are you a superhero?" You chuckle, covering your mouth.
Bradley’s body relaxes, chuckling too, and you feel bad for him again. He didn’t ask for this, you were the one who decided to keep the babies, and now he's offering his help the only way he knows how.
"Sorry, Ash. When my dad got my mom pregnant, they married. I thought I should do the same." He explains, scratching his bearded jaw. He looks better with a beard than with a mustache.
"It was a different time, Bradley. Things are different. We can raise the kids together without being married."
"Still… I want you to come live with me until the babies are born. Well, maybe after that. After they're born, one of them will cry and wake up the other, and you can only carry one baby at a time. You'll need help for a while."
You nod, agreeing with his words. You can't do everything alone. At least, until the babies are a bit older.
"Do you know… the gender?"
"Not yet. We can find out on the next appointment." You tell him, grabbing his hand.
"We?"
"You said you were coming with me to every appointment, right? Are you having cold feet?"
"NO NO, OBVIOUSLY NO!" He speaks a bit louder than you expect, and as if they have recognized him, one of the babies starts kicking your belly.
"Oh my god."
"What, what? Are you okay?" You press his hand against your belly, his warm hand giving you chills. "What do you want me to-"
His mouth forms a silent "o" and glistening eyes glare at you. "They're moving."
"I think they know who you are."
Bradley kneels in front of you, both hands on you, pressing his forehead against your round belly. "Hey, babies. It's me, dad. I'm sorry I haven't been here before. But I won't go anywhere now."
You chuckle at the view, knowing that these babies are being surrounded by love before they're even born.
#top gun maverick#top gun x reader#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun fanfiction#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster fanfic#rooster top gun#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster fluff#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw angst#top gun#tasting the ashes#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradsaw x reader
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The previous anon (716201722150797312) touched on something I've been thinking about discussions about making money from fandom. Tumblr and twitter are echo chambers, and when you get all of your fandom experience via social media, you tend to be be blinded to how corporations and others outside of fandom actually think. I don't think most people who have real life friends in fandom, who go to conventions, who function in the real world alongside fandom, would be dumb enough to think making money from fanfic is sustainable financially or for building community. Who is actually dumb enough to think that becoming potential competitors for Disney, Dreamworks, or Warner Bros is the best way to make a living? It wasn't that long ago that people were being sued for writing fanfics, and Etsy vendors are removed all the time for selling unofficial merch.
All this talk of monetizing fandom will only result in getting rid of why people like it in the first place: community. Under the model they're proposing, others on AO3 aren't fellow fans of something, they're potential customers. Why would anyone want that? In that case, stop being lazy, create your own characters, and self publish if you want to be paid for your wish fulfilling, self indulgent stories. That's what people do if they want to be paid for their fiction. Fandom is not structured to support that. Your fellow fans shouldn't have to send you money for just enjoying their hobby. It sucks, but welcome to the real world where random peoples' entitlement to other fans' time and money doesn't get you more than confused stares from the rest of the world.
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Lots of people do get okay money from self publishing (though you have to do more self-promo than I have so far). The fact that people are like "I'm deeeeesepraaaaaaaate! I have no other oooooptionsssss!" and then don't bother to try to build a following for original writing shows they're idiots, leaches, or the kind of people who will always be in a mess no matter how many times you bail them out until they get their ADHD under control or move out of an abusive situation or whatever.
Original stuff can be built into your own little franchise. You have the right to sell t-shirts or mugs or whatthefuckever. It's a much better long term prospect than trying to sell fic.
Or, hell, go sell Jane Austen fanfic. There's out of copyright stuff you can riff off of if that's your thing.
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What would it be like if Original Felix met his IM counterpart and the IM crew and Circus? Would he tease IM Felix about Ozzy?
that's a hard question because it depends what counts as original felix,(⚠️autism moment upcoming⚠️) there's his black and white self, his comic self, and a lot of people look at either the 1950s show or the twisted tales show for references too 🤔 im not as knowlegable on his comic self as i didnt read those, on his black and white self as ive only seen a couple shorts(ive been meaning to watch more but im always meaning to watch more of x ajjsajjda rn im trying to catch up on some oswald and some popeye classics to better understand them and i didnt even Began tackling the mickey shorts—and i fully dropped the alice comedies i dont like them very much, i'm more of a fleischer than a disney guy i watched muuuch more of bettys black and white ones and fleischer generally has much stronger characterizations amongst the black and white era!the other cartoons had characterization but i wouldnt say they were at the level that fleischer was beggining to do with its protagonists)
anyways sorry. you tackled the hyperfixation lemme cut myself from ranting more and answer your question qjsjajdjajdjw i thiiiink. i think, if we speak on a more general term, some b&w felixes would tease him but theyd look more towards the chance of teasing him in general than the chance of teasing him over romance in specific—or they wouldn't care at all/would care more about other things(i know there were a lot of comics and shorts that implied felix to be someone who had this ideology of sharing to your community in a very communism utopia manner, and they might be a bit more focused on the fact that felix is a famous rich writer and isn't doing. anything with that, while some of those felixes are starving on screen he had a lot of starving and poverty issues), from what ive seen of the 50s shorts(i havent seen them all! i just got the luck to find a cd with several episodes on a store nearby so i know those episodes)that one is a little bit more calm and nice and would probably try to help him confess, and twisted tales felix which was tap's main inspiration for his younger self i think would think "oh this poor dude is about to get ruined with another romance he has no chance in. sheesh. anyways how can i either steal his man or steal his money(surely no comical hijinks could come from that)"
now the crew. as in questers. hhhggh long one so i'm just gonna resume it to strongest friendships. black and white shorts felix would hit off very well with bendy, and a little bit boris but deef with bendy. 50s felix would probably like holly the most, mugs second. twisted tales would be interacting with cup the most but always in an almost rivalry to him, not full on rivals but not buddy buddies kinda thing, and i say that because i can see him passing by when cup's playing a luck game to see if he can get him to loose, him seeing cup get himself dates and flirting and try to steal those girls' attention to it not only not working but cup laughing at him, and he's def pretty zany on that show which cup doesn't like because it's unpredictable, not to mention cup's entire attitude could get him to mutter sassy remarks, but i think they'd find enjoyment in that entire dynamic he wouldn't full on hate cup and cup wouldn't full on hate him either
but i might be wrong i haven't watched those in like 3 years ajsjjajdjajd and besides everyone has different interpretations of the characters. as much as i love felix (literally got gifted a felix notebook and felix socks and a felix shirt all by different family members and considering i had already made myself a little felix necklace and was also gifted an oswald bag i finally have the full "i am normal about black and white cartoons" fit 💥 ahsjsjskcja) i am a 6 people and i can only watch and analyze and remember so many shorts while everyone else also uses the brain for their own hyperfixations kwjdjwjfja
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Hi this is my first time sending a request, so idk what I am doing. But I love your page, your stuff is really good!
Can you write something with Chris Evans x daughter!reader, where the reader breaks something from Chris (maybe injure themselves, but don’t tell Chris) and they keep saying sorry and maybe start crying. And Chris tells them its alright and he can just buy it again. (and finds out reader is injured)
Just ignore this if you don’t like it :)
“It’s really okay”
—————
Pairing: Chris x adopted! Daughter
—————
Warnings: brief mentions of food issues, mentions of injury, blood, cuts, panic attack and just Chris being the best dad ever 🥹
Hey! Thank you so much for this request and it’s so kind of you to say this! I hope you like it, I loved writing it <3
——————
Being Chris’ daughter was the best thing you could ask for, the day he adopted you was unmistakably the best day of your life.
It was also his.
See he always wanted a daughter who was just amazing, but just as crazy as he was. So it was a perfect match like your social worker had said when you both hit it off when you first met although you were timid which was expected.
But nevertheless you were inseparable.
————
Today, Dad was working early this morning so it was just me and Dodger in the house until about 11am so I woke up and padded my way down the stairs to go find dodger lounging in a sun patch streaming the massive windows through from the garden.
After giving Dodger cuddles lounging on the sofa, I decided Chris probably wouldn’t be very happy if he came home and I hadn’t eaten anything considering it was like almost 9am but hey he knew that I didn’t exactly have the best relationship with food but I was working on it.
That being said I walked into the kitchen dodger in tow expecting a treat which he got, i just made some cereal with choccy milk on the side in a sox mug from Disney that dad got as an exclusive gift for the lightyear movie. He loved that cup so I knew I had to be careful with it because I didn’t want to break it and make him angry.
Unfortunately the cup did break.
It was all a blur all y/n remembers was the cut on her arm, the blood and the shards of the porcelain on the floor splattered with chocolate milk. The main priority was to get dodger out the room so he didn’t get hurt, she didn’t care that she’d cut herself it was let’s just say something she’d experienced a bit more than you should.
She cleaned everything up like nothing happened, the blood, the milk and her cereal were thrown out and cleaned she didn’t want it anymore. Her stomach was in knots over what her dad would say when he found out. Panic swirled in her body, her heart was beating what felt like 200 bpm. All she could do was clean up her cut and cocoon herself in chris’ bed for comfort where she cried herself to sleep.
————
Chris’ pov
I was on set early this morning for a reshoot of ghosted, so I left y/n and dodger alone at home which isn’t the first time but I always made sure that she was really okay with being alone if not Scott would be more than happy to come over just so she had someone in the house with her.
Walking in to the house calling out to both dodger and y/n there was no answer which was strange considering there was stuff in the sink from her eating breakfast, so I walked up the stairs walking to her door knocking on it.
“Bubba it’s me are you in there?” I asked louder than usual just in case she had headphones in.
Opening the door I saw no y/n but her bed wasn’t made so I know she was up but not sure where she was, checking her bathroom, the office, her reading nook.
She was no where.
The only place I couldn’t check was my room, god why didn’t I do that in the first place I thought.
Walking in I saw a cocoon of blankets and my duvet with a head just popping out the top at the many pillows on the bed, walking over sitting on the edge of the bed gently rubbing her back to wake y/n up noticing her tear stained face confused with what was going on all I did was lay with her on my chest and cuddle her trying to get her to tell me what happened.
——————
“Sweetheart, tell me what happened. Why we’re you crying?” I said whispering so she knows I’m calm.
“I- um I’m sorry dad I didn’t mean to. She mumbled panicked for the reason I didn’t know why
“Baby what are you sorry for?” I replied confused by her reaction
“Sorry sorry I’m sorry dad I promise I didn’t mean to” she said crying wincing when I tried to move her arm so she could snuggle in to my chest.
Concerned by why she winced when I moved her arm I said “Sweetheart, what happened?” growing more anxious that she was really badly hurt not wanting to tell me.
Letting her take her time to explain what happened and why she is so panicked.
“Dad I’m so sorry, I was - she sighed, I was making breakfast this morning and i - i wanted chocolate milk and I basically used your sox cup, then I don’t know how I accidentally smashed it and cut my arm and I feel really bad because that’s your special cup from the movie. I’m so so so so sorry dad” y/n replied way too fast with no breaths in between.
“Honey, it’s okay it can be replaced. That doesn’t matter right now what matters is that your okay. Now could I look at your arm please bubba?” I said reassuring y/n it’s really okay.
“Okay I guess you could, I’m still really sorry dad” y/n mumbled tears still ever present on her face, wiping them with the pads of my thumbs we sat there and cuddled.
—————
After the cuddles we had dad checked my arm helped me clean it up and then made dinner and still had been reassuring me that it was okay because accidents happen. So we had a movie night and takeout.
The usual movie being Cars 2 (which I’ve actually just finished watching) and the other usual takeout of chose for me which was nuggets, Mac and cheese and broccoli whilst dad had lasagna and dodger was waiting for someone to give him a bite.
I really knew in this moment being Chris’ daughter although we had a rough start which was to be expected being hoe daughter was the best thing I could ask for.
Because now it’s really okay.
—————
I hope you enjoy guys :)
#chrisevansdaughter#chris evans#chris evans daughter#chris evans x reader#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x teen!reader#chris evans x daughter!reader#chrisevans x adopted!daughter#chris evans x reader fluff#fluff#anon <3#anon request#requsts are open#dad!chris evans
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