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aperrywilliams · 26 days

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I'm Sorry I Couldn't be Here for You Sooner (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: You have one of the worst days in a long time at work. When Spencer returns from an assignment to the BAU and sees your current state, he must do something.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Frustration/Hurt/Comfort. Just a self-indulgent rant. A lot of cuss words. Spencer is the best boyfriend in the world.

A/N: I just need Spencer to hold me now.

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The clock ticks and ticks, but the time seems to stand still. Even if you don't know how long you have been looking at that piece of wood, plastic, and metal, it feels like an eternity.

In the distance, a voice keeps throwing out words and sentences to which you should pay attention. However, even if you tried, looking at the clock on the wall is still more interesting than hearing Hotch talking about new protocols for field agents.

Still lost in your head, you don't notice the meeting is over and people are starting to leave the room. Only when someone squeezes your forearm. It's JJ.

"Are you okay?" she asks, eyebrows furrowed. You look at her and blink a few times.

"Uh- yeah," you mumble.

Are you okay? No, you're not. But why bother others with that?

On second thought, this may be a chance to spill what's on your mind. JJ is usually a forthcoming and wise person.

"Well, actually-" you begin, but before saying anything else, JJ cuts you off.

"That's nice. Because I want to ask you if you can babysit Henry tomorrow night. Will invited me to a romantic dinner, and our babysitter is sick. Hope it doesn't make much trouble to you?" the blonde probes.

Okay, you didn't expect that.

Not in the mood to turn the subject back to you, you say yes, and after thanking you, JJ quickly leaves the conference room. Alone with your thoughts for a few seconds, you wonder if the tightness in your chest isn't an exaggeration. You decide to forget about it and go back to your desk.

Opening a folder with the information on the last case, you are ready to write your report. But not too so far on it, Emily approaches you.

"Hey, how are you?"

You have doubts about how to answer the question. A few minutes ago, when JJ asked, you lied to her, and she didn't even notice. Maybe it's good to be honest.

"Actually, not so good," you sigh. And Emily raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah? What happened?"

"I just don't know, I don't feel good," you try to explain. But you're not sure how to do it either.

"I'm sure it's something you can manage," Emily muses. "Look, whatever it is, have a drink when you get home today, relax a little, and I bet you'll be as good as new tomorrow!"

You open and close your mouth several times, trying to get a word out, but nothing comes to mind.

A drink and relax? Is that simple?

You let out a hum, and that's enough for a response to Emily.

After wishing you good luck, she heads down the hallway, presumably to Garcia's office.

It's clear that Emily didn't grasp your actual emotional state, but you don't blame her either.

The last case was hard for everyone, so there is no reason to take it personally.

Focusing on your report again, you expect the sour mood surrounding you to fade eventually.

To finish your paperwork, you need to make copies of the reports. So you get up and head to the copy machine. After carefully placing the papers in the tray, you press the start button. When you think it will start copying, the machine stops mid-scan. You frown, and after a few seconds of nothing, you press the 'start' button again. Nothing. You do it again. And again. It's not working, and you feel your blood running hot.

By pressing the button again and again, anger comes.

"What the fuck is wrong with you stupid fucking machine!"

It's not enough to swat with force the button panel; now you're kicking the machine out of pent-up frustration.

"Whoa, whoa, stop right there, pretty girl."

Morgan steps between you and the machine, putting distance with his palms. And that's when you realize your outburst. Panting and still with the heat of rage on your cheeks, you are not yet satisfied.

"What the fuck, Morgan. Now you're defending a fucking copy machine?!" You hiss. Derek narrows his eyes to assess your current state. He's seen you mad, but it usually goes away easily. You are not a dense person.

"Okay, what's wrong, pretty girl? Since when do you unleash your frustration with pretty boy on inanimate things?"

Pretty boy. Spencer. Your boyfriend. Today, your boyfriend is conducting a cognitive interview with a convict in a DC jail—Hotch's orders. You wish he were here.

Morgan knows you usually laugh at his jokes, and even when you are in a bad temper, they help to light the mood.

Not this time, though.

"Don't talk about Spencer or me like that!" You snarl. "He doesn't have to do with any of this!"

Morgan doesn't like you are talking to him. Folding his arms over his chest, he let out an unamused scoff.

"Come on, don't you think you're overreacting here? Was this whole outburst only for a joke? What, are you four years old?"

You want to keep yelling, but a lump forms in your throat that is making it difficult for you to speak or even breathe. Morgan doesn't even wait for you to say something.

"You know what?" Morgan continues. "If you cannot stand the pressure of this job right now, maybe you should go home."

With that said and shaking his head in disappointment, Dereks leaves you there.

Stumped. Frustrated. Broken.

All the anger from moments before turns into an almost uncontrollable urge to cry. What have you done to these people? They are supposed to be your friends, your family. They are supposed to understand you and support you when you need them. And now that it's the time, they've only ignored you, minimized your problems, and even questioned your worth. Maybe Derek is right, and you should go home.

Defeated, you're strolling to your desk when Hotch peaks out of his office and gestures you to come.

Great, just what you needed now.

When you walk into your boss's office, he is already sitting in his chair, sternly looking at you.

"I won't ask you what's wrong with you today because it's your private life. However, I must remind you we are all professionals on this team. If you need time off, you have the right to get it, but I will not tolerate disrespect, like when you are distracted as I give fundamental instructions. If you don't pay attention, it could affect your work in the field and even put the lives of innocent people at risk."

If you didn't feel trampled before, now you feel like a ton of dirt was dumped on you.

You know Hotch can be sharp with words, but his ultimate goal is always to look after the team. But why does it feel like you're not part of that team right now?

"Do I make myself clear?"

With no more energy left in your body, you just let out a 'yes, sir.' Without waiting for another response, he sends you back to your desk.

It's already noon when you resume your work. Your mind spins at a mile an hour, and although it's hard, you force yourself to concentrate enough to get your job done, so at least the salary they pay you is worth it.

Like a mollusk in its shell, you close yourself in that bubble and stop paying attention to your surroundings. It's your safe place—only you.

In the distance, you feel your coworkers come and go. Never do you look up. Time goes by, and your throat feels dry from not speaking for hours.

Before everyone starts planning lunch, you are already picking up your lunch bag.

Social interaction is out of the table, so you are secluded in the building roof where an improvisated garden has benches. You sit alone, and the breeze helps to steady your breathing. As you open your Tupperware, you tentatively plunge the fork into the almost-cold pasta.

Even so, you're better here than in the bullpen minutes ago.

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Spencer walks through the doors of the BAU. It's 2 in the afternoon, so hopefully, the team is still having lunch in the conference room. Slightly worried that he wouldn't be able to reach you when he wanted to let you know he was on his way, he assumed that you had a lot of work and that your phone was mute.

Arriving at the conference room, Spencer scans the place and immediately catches something odd. You are not there. JJ, Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch are, though.

With an eyebrow furrowed, he asks, "Where is she?"

His teammates perk their heads up.

"Hello to you, pretty boy," Morgan teases.

"How was the interview?" JJ asks.

"Did you eat? You still can sit with us," Prentiss offers.

"Did you get the interview done?" Hotch asks with a raised eyebrow.

Spencer gets an uneasy feeling about what's going on. He knows you weren't feeling so okay this morning, and even if he tried to convince you to take a sick day, you didn't let him.

"Neither of you responded my question," Spencer points, voice harsher than when he asked first.

"(Y/N)? I thought she went home," Morgan muses.

"Why would she do that?" Spencer questions, alarmed. "Something bad happened?"

"She said she was okay when I asked earlier," JJ explains. "Maybe she has an errand to do."

"She was way distracted when we were at the meeting in the morning. She didn't listen a thing of what I said," Hotch adds.

"And you sent her home?" Spencer directs his question to Hotch.

"No, I didn't. She didn't ask it either when I called her to my office."

"You called her to your office? Did you reprimand her?" Spencer asks in disbelief.

"Of course, I did it, Reid. She did something disrespectful to the team," Hotch defends.

"And considering her rage moment directed to the copy machine, maybe it's better if she went home," Morgan supplies.

"Why are you being so dramatic, Reid?" Emily questions, very confused about why Spencer is so upset.

Spencer huffs, frustration running in his veins.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? Did you ever realize she wasn't doing okay and nobody took her seriously? Yeah, sure, she said she was okay, but did you really check on her? Did you really ask her what was wrong? Did someone listen to her?"

The people in the room go silent after Spencer scolds them.

Did they help in any way?

"You are unbelievable, and you call yourself profilers," Spencer huffs, turning to exit the room in search of you.

"What are you doing, Reid?" Hotch asks. No turning around to face his boss, and halfway out, Spencer replies.

"The thing you should have done in the first place. And I don't care if it doesn't fall protocol, I can give you my resignation letter tomorrow."

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When Spencer reaches the building roof and sees you sitting on one of the benches, he lets out a sigh of relief. He suspected you might be there, considering your things were still on your desk.

You can't see it since your back is turned. Your eyes look at the horizon without focusing on anything in particular.

The breeze is nice despite the November weather in Virginia.

Not wanting to scare you, Spencer slowly approaches you as he clears his throat. You turn around and see him standing a couple of meters away from you, but close enough to see your eyes red from crying.

You know he noticed it, and you avert his gaze.

You don't like the idea of looking vulnerable right now. The morning was already catastrophic enough to explain your current state of mind to Spencer.

Spencer is a man of many words. He is known for his diatribes on any topic at hand. So you expect some kind of rant or even some statistical data about what could be happening to you.

But contradicting his very nature, he just silently approaches, takes your hand to get you up from the bench, and pulls you into a tight, comforting embrace.

And for the first time all day, you feel like you can actually breathe, and your chest isn't tight anymore. Words are not necessary; just being held like that is enough for now.

Spencer kisses the top of your head lovingly.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here for you sooner. I'm sorry you had such a horrible morning," your boyfriend laments.

You shake your head, still buried in his chest.

Tears fight to come out from the corners of your eyes, and you no longer want to hold them back.

"Let it out, baby. Just let them out."

And that's what you do. For the first time all day, you allow yourself to cry without holding back. Spencer has you the entire time, rubbing your back soothingly.

"I don't know why I feel so bad, Spencer. I don't understand," you muffle your words into his embrace.

"It's okay, love. You don't have to explain to me, or anyone for that matter. There are days when we are not okay, and it's completely valid. Never think you don't have the right to."

Hearing Spencer say that relieves some of the pressure on your head, but you can't help but think about your teammates' words throughout the morning.

Separating yourself from Spencer to look at him, your eyes still denote your inner struggle.

"What if they are right? What if they are right when they say I shouldn't make so much fuzz and rather think about doing my job well?"

Spencer cups your cheeks so you can look at him.

"They are not. Okay? By any means, you are the most professional person I have ever met in my life. Not only that, you are also the most compassionate, selfless, and willing to help to the fullest extent of your capacity. Does JJ need help babysitting Henry? You don't think twice. Does García need assistance organizing a girls' night? You are the first one to be there. Does Hotch need to finish a stack of reports in one night? You offer to help him. Does Derek need a backup to kick his way into a place and catch the unsub? You're the first to watch his back."

You are indeed like that, and you do all that. But you've never seen it as something extraordinary. For you, being part of a team and a family means all that and more.

"And that doesn't even scratch the surface of what you have been to me.

My love, you have been the person who has entitled me to open my heart and love without reservation. You have taught me to trust and that asking for help when you feel bad is okay. You are the light of my life, and I swear I'll do everything in my power so you can see the wonderful person you are and that you deserve all the love and support in the world."

Without a doubt, Spencer has something with his words and eloquence. How can you not believe him? The veil of doubt indeed emerges from time to time, but having someone who is by your side showing you what is really important makes the doubts not cloud your path.

A shy smile appears on your face, your eyes filled with gratitude.

"There she is," Spencer whispers, stroking your cheek with love and never breaking eye contact.

"Maybe I should have listened to you this morning and called in sick," you sigh. Spencer kisses the top of your nose.

"I know you weren't going to do it anyway."

You giggle because he's right. Spencer knows you too well.

"Lunchtime is almost over. We should come back to work," you remind him. Spencer pulls a face, and you raise an eyebrow at him. "What was that?" You inquire.

Spencer laughs nervously. "It's just I may or may not have made a scene in the conference room earlier, and I may or may not have offered my letter of resignation to Hotch if he didn't allow me to come find you."

"You did what? Spencer, oh my God!" you start laughing. "Does that mean there's a chance we'll both get fired today?"

Spencer thinks about that for a second.

"Honestly? I don't think Hotch would risk losing his two best agents," he decides, winking at you.

"Hope you're right, Dr. Reid. Hope you're right," you voice, grabbing his hand in yours and making the way back to the sixth floor.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfics #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x fem!bau!reader #aperrywilliams #amanda perry williams

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avocado-writing · 3 months

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Hey there, if you’re still doing requests for BG3... I'm terribly angry about something big and outside of my control at the moment. Could you let me know what you'd think the BG3 companions do if Tav started self destructing? Like Tav passing harsher judgments, snapping at neutral NPCs, or fighting more dangerously and recklessly with bad guys?

Oooo the angst possibilities! Fun! Going to write like you’re self destructing due to stress, and you’re picking unhealthy coping mechanisms. Here we go:

Astarion

at first probably thinks that it’s quite funny. We know he enjoys seeing a little bit of suffering.

but, the more it goes on, the more worried you can see him become.

this isn’t like you. He knows you by now. You’re… kinder than this, damn it.

he takes you to the side one day after he’s seen you be short with a friend.

“whats the matter?” “Nothing, Astarion.” “If you’re going to lie to me, darling, you’d better do a better job of it than that.”

you go to snap at him, fire on your tongue, and then something inside you breaks. You just start sobbing. Everything which has been weighing on your mind has finally become too much.

he isn’t good at comforting words, but he does hold you. Runs his hand up and down your back, and lets you know you he’s here for you whenever you’re ready to speak.

helps you centre yourself again, eventually. He loves you. He’ll do what he can to make things better.

Gale

Makes a couple of snide remarks about how you’re acting, suggesting maybe you be a bit kinder, but then he stops to reassess how you’re acting.

there’s something wrong. You’re pent up. Furious, but not with the people you talk to. They just happen to be the ones bearing the brunt of it.

he sees the injuries you nurse on yourself after battles too. You used to be a clever fighter. Now you are a reckless one.

takes you aside one night at camp and presents his findings very matter-of-factly, concluding that there must be something the matter. When he puts it so astutely, you know you have no chance of hiding from him.

tears slip down your face and he is there in an instant drying your eyes. Telling you there’s nothing to worry about. Reassuring you that “the great Gale of Waterdeep is on your side, we’ll find a way to work things out.”

he puffs his chest out, you chuckle and bury your face in the crook of his neck. Yes. You will find a way to work things out.

Wyll

When he first sees you acting out, as it were, he immediately intervenes.

he knows what it’s like to be under great levels of stress. He made his contact when he was a teenager, after all, and had to deal with all the fallout that happened consequently.

he takes you to the side, holds your hand tightly in his, gets you to look at him.

“i love you, you know that, yes? If there’s something the matter, you need only tell me.”

you begin to crack immediately. Damn this sweet man and his emotional intelligence. Why is he perfect.

you let him know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. You agree you’re not coping with it very well. He says he’ll help you however he can, but you need to stop being so unkind to yourself.

“you matter, my love. You deserve sweetness.”

holds you close, and you just stand there for a while, together. From then on whenever something is wrong, he is the first one you go to.

Karlach

Sees you snapping at a friend, jumps in.

“whoa, whoa, whoa! Soldier, where is all this coming from?”

you snap to tell her it’s none of her business, she wouldn’t understand… but then you see the hurt in her eyes and immediately feel awful.

“Oh gods, Karlach, I’m sorry…” your voice is wobbly, cracking a bit, and she cups your face in her warm hands.

“hey, hey. it’s okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

you blurt out all your feelings to her in one, long, run-on sentence. She can’t help with a lot of the personal stuff, but she can listen, and she holds you to her chest and rocks you a little. Being engulfed by her embrace is very comforting.

”I’ve got you, babe, eh?” You know she does. For better or for worse.

Lae’zel

She sees the vicious way that you’ve been acting in battle. Strange, usually it’s her attempting to take the big hit, not you. She can take it, you can’t.

She finds you when you’re tending to your battle wounds. Sits down. Stares at you until you instigate conversation.

“what?” “You are not acting like yourself.” “Oh? And how would you know what that is?”

you’re just saying these things to be hurtful, but she’s stalwart. You’re deflecting.

She tells you she’s been enamoured with you long enough to see how you usually are. That you’re kinder, smarter. You’re lapsing into these feelings out of some sort of self-preservation, but you don’t need to.

”if there is something weighing on your mind, share it. I am here to help ease your burdens.”

you don’t love to cry in front of her but that is remarkably… sweet. It breaks you a bit.

You promise to stop being so foolhardy, especially in battle. She says that must be for the best, lest you get rended in half.

“Hey!” but she’s smiling. Your heart swells as you realise she’s trying to make you laugh.

Shadowheart

Lets you get quite far down the burrow of self-destruction before she does anything.

once again, she’s loyal to the lady of loss. Nothing you’re doing is exactly alarming to her.

but it does get worse and worse… she sees you snapping at friends, being harsher to passers-by, and she’s constantly having to patch you up after battle due to your wounds.

eventually one day you snap at her, and that’s her limit.

“I know something’s causing you stress but it isn’t me. I’m trying to help. So you can either pull your head out of your arse or I’m leaving this tent.”

the two of you have a little squabble, but it quickly becomes obvious your heart isn’t in it. Your anger turns to sadness. You collapse in tears and she pulls you to her without a second thought, holding you close.

despite her sharran devotion, she starts whispering how things can get better, how they will change. How the first step is letting people in.

her hand wound throbs as she comforts you. But in this moment she knows she’d pick you every time.

things are easier from then on, knowing she is with you.

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x you #lae'zel x reader #lae'zel x you #astarion x tav #shadowheart x tav #lae'zel x tav #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep x tav #gale x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #wyll x tav #wyll x reader #wyll ravengard x tav #wyll ravenguard x reader #karlach x tav #karlach x reader

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samthestrangerthingsfan · 4 months

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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: frienemies-to-lovers, kinda mean!Eddie? shy!reader, swearing, a lil smoochin', mentions of lack of confidence and poor self image, cute nicknames

a/n: hi bb, will you be my valentine? I don't love writing mean!eddie but its okay because we can always fix him :)

Valentine’s Day.

A day which the Hawkins High elite are positively buzzing over the plethora of cheap red and pink decorations.

Cheerleaders swoon over poorly constructed cards from their popular boyfriends, while dozens of obnoxious mylar balloons take up way too much space in the already crowded hallways.

Beyond the 14th of February, the reason for all the excitement was the annual Hawkins High Valentine’s Day dance—of which you were head of the committee.

Was it because you were the only Senior to volunteer their time to coordinating it instead of attending it? Maybe, but at least it gave you a reason to show up to the dance without a date.

...and avoid looking like the pitiful wallflower you are.

You also knew you’d have no time to rush home and get ready after your last class, so here you are. Standing outside of the AV Club door, decked out in your new crushed-velvet dress. It's ruby red and dangerously short.

This was definitely out of your comfort zone. You typically preferred to be invisible. It’s easier that way; no one can hurt what they can’t see. Right?

But when this dress caught your eye in the mall shop window, it was the first time you could ever remember wanting to be seen. Wanting to try to look like the pretty girls who walk the halls everyday vying for the attention of others.

The dance gave you the perfect excuse. Sure, it’s not like you had a date or anyone asking you to go, but you felt so beautiful. The way the dress hugged your body made all the staring and whispering as you walked down the hallway so, so worth it.

“Hey—whoa…” Dustin’s voice dropped when he walked around the corner, arms full of equipment. “Y-you look fantastic!” He said proudly.

Dustin was your favorite Freshmen, always kind and happy to see you.

“Aw, thanks Dusty! You don’t think it’s too much?” You lifted your boot, inspecting it falsely.

Dustin smiled, “It’s too much for 6th period Spanish, but not for Valentine’s Day that’s for sure.”

He unlocked the door, and held it for you.

Dusting grabbed a pen and paper to write down what you’d need the AV Club’s help with after school.

With hands on your hips, you looked around the room. “Okay, so I definitely need the projector, and if you could set it up before—“

An annoying, loud, cocky voice cut you off. “Henderson! What the hell is takin’ you so long?”

Eddie fucking Munson.

You watched as he sauntered into the room, DIO jacket and all. He clapped Dustin on the shoulders before turning his gaze to you.

“Holy shit. That you, Mouse?”

Mouse. A nickname you loathed.

You’d made the mistake of sitting at the Hellfire table your Freshman year, and he’s never let let you live it down. Once Eddie saw just how shy you were, he made it his mission to get under your skin.

He'd plopped down into the seat next to you, assuming you were there to cause him and the guys trouble. “New girl’s trying to get in good with the freaks, hm?”

You jumped and began to frantically pack your belongings, “I-I…I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I’ll just go—"

When he realized you were nervous, he changed his tone. No longer was he on edge, but rather trying to make you laugh. Show you it's okay to give him a taste of his own medicine. “No no, little mouse. You’re not scurrying away that easily.”

Four years later, you’re both still here and Eddie’s been a thorn in your side ever since. You thought you'd be rid of him once he graduated, but he flunked--twice. Condemning you to another year full of his nonsense.

His obnoxious, overly-confident, doe-eyed nonsense.

“Munson.” You couldn’t help the eye roll. “Dustin and I are working on something so,” you flicked your hand toward the door. “Skedaddle.”

“Oof,” he teased. “You kiss your mother with that potty mouth?”

Eddie walked past Dustin, hands on his hips as he took you in. “Why, may I ask, are you dressed so fancy, princess? Hot date with a frog?”

Okay, guess we’re playing this game.

“The only frog I know is you, Munson.”

His hand flew to his heart. “You hear this, Henderson? Who knew Mouse could be such a brat?”

“If you’ll excuse me,” you attempt to sidestep him, but he blocks your path. Big brown eyes watching your every move. “Don’t you have anything better to do than push my buttons?” It’s a pitiful gripe. You know he enjoys this far too much.

“C’mon, sweetheart. If I didn’t talk to you, who the hell would?”

Ouch.

Something no doubt said in jest, but it hurt to realize just how right he was. You had tons of acquaintances, and you got along great with the teachers. As for friends, the well's a bit dry in that department.

You cleared away the tightness in you throat. “Yeah, I don’t have time for this. I’m actually contributing to society. How about you?” Your face was twisted into a sarcastic smile, attempting to hide the hurt.

Eddie on the other hand thought the two of you were simply playing your favorite game. Seeing just how flustered he could make you before you gave him a taste of his own medicine.

“Yeah, you’re a real Nancy Reagan.” He laughed, gesturing to your dress.

Your eyes honed in on him. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means,” he reached out, sweeping a piece of hair off of your cheek. “If you wanted a little attention, you didn’t have to do all this.”

This.

Said as if the word tasted rotten. Disgusted by what you’d considered to be you at your most beautiful.

I must look like a fucking fool.

The stinging in your eyes got stronger every second you stood in his presence. Your gaze locked onto the floor, following your feet as you left. “Bye, Dustin. I’ll see you later.”

Dustin protested, calling you back before turning his disappointed glare to Eddie.

“Dude…” he chided.

Eddie scoffed, “What? Henderson I was joking—she knows that, okay? That’s our whole thing.”

"Eddie, she was crying!"

Were you? No, no way. This is what the two of you do.

"No, she wasn't." He said unconvincingly. "You don't know her like I do, little buddy. She's a good girl, loves the cat-and-mouse of it all." Eddie wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or Dustin.

Eddie had a fuck of a time in O'Donnell's class, and now on top of all of that, he's late to set up Hellfire.

He moved a bit quicker down the hall, easy enough since most of the school left to get ready for the Desperate Dance. He intentionally always schedules DND on nights like this, that way he'd never have to be caught dead--

Eddie's stopped in his tracks at the sight of the trashcan at the end of the hall. He spots a familiar piece of red fabric hanging out of the bin.

He pulled it like a magician, revealing more and more of the velvet clothing until its fully removed,

A dress.

Your dress.

Why the fuck did you throw it in the trash? You we're the most confident Eddie had ever seen you while you wore this thing.

...and you looked drop dead gorgeous, but that's beside the point.

He heard your voice coming from the gym, and abandoned all thoughts of DND.

Eddie burst through the double doors, ignoring the frilly pink and red decorations for the dance. He weaved between the underclassmen carefully setting up the tables and backdrops to make his way over to you.

You, who now instead of being in your beautiful fucking dress, are in you school-supplied gym uniform. Your hair was pulled back, no longer falling in the perfectly natural way you had it earlier. Your makeup was gone--Eddie didn't mind that, he didn't think you needed it anyway.

But you'd never looked so small to him.

He called your name more gently than you've ever heard him speak. When you turned and saw your dress in his grip, you wanted to disappear.

Had he come to gloat?

"Why the hell was this in the trash?" he's not smirking, or sarcastic when he says it.

"Didn't like it." It's all the pain in your throat will let you get out.

You walk away from him, hurrying to find something else to do beside stand there and be made fun of by Eddie Munson.

"Bullshit," he calls after you, quick on your heels. "You don't wear a dress like this and look the way you look in it and just decide you don't like it."

You could feel the tears returning as soon as you stopped walking. "I don't know what you wanna hear," your back was to Eddie, but you felt his gaze regardless. "I just didn't like it...anymore, okay?"

The fake organization of the ribbons in front of you didn't deter him, he remained behind you in silence until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Did...did I say something? Earlier, in the AV Club." He spoke so softly, and with such sincerity, you'd never know it was Eddie talking to you.

You sniffled, angry at yourself for letting him hear how upset you were. "I don't know what you mean."

"Henderson," He's quick on your heels. "Henderson said you were crying when you left."

You don't--can't say anything. Trying desperately to will the tightness in your throat to go away and the tears to dry before they fall from your eyes. A small, shaking breath passes your lips.

"Please look at me, Mouse." His voice is hushed when he calls out to you.

You turn to him begrudgingly. Hoping if he saw the mess he made he'd leave well enough alone.

But when he sees your face, with red eyes and damp tear-stained cheeks, his heart falls into his stomach.

"Oh, oh sweetheart--"

You beat him to it. "I'm fine, Munson. Just...just give me the stupid thing, okay? I'm better off invisible, anyway."

"You've never been invisible to me." Eddie hands you the dress, and watches as you wring it between your hands. "I'm sorry, Mouse."

You scoff, "You didn't--"

"Yes I did," He says firmly. Eddie steps into you, closer than he's been before. "I made an asinine comment thinking we were playing our little game, but it's not a game if someone gets hurt, especially you."

Eddie swipes away the tear on your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You looked beautiful. You're always beautiful, but that dress? Honey, I couldn't think straight. I'm a dumbass half the time, but I turned into a god damned Neanderthal when I saw you in that."

Your brain couldn't process what was happening. It almost sounded like Eddie...liked you?

"I thought," You looked down, embarrassed to even say it out loud. "I finally felt pretty, pretty enough to be seen and not just in the background."

Eddie's brow softens at your words, "Mouse, I see you. You're one of the only things I look for throughout the day. Always lookin' out for the pretty shy girl with the smile that makes me go weak in the knees."

You laugh at that. "I guess I always look for the obnoxious metal head that's way too good at getting under my skin."

Eddie chest rumbles with a laugh, too. "You're too good at calling me on my crap, what do you expect me to do?"

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, and it has Eddie clearing his throat. "Can--can I give you a hug? Hate that I made my favorite girl cry."

The smile on your face speaks volumes, but you nod anyway.

When you're wrapped in Eddie's arms, his warmth seeps through your bones, relieving any tension or nerves. His scent invades your senses, warming your belly and heart. You melt into him completely.

Eddie can't believe how well you fit in his arms, like a damn puzzle piece if you asked him. He smells you shampoo, and memorizes the fragrance, filing it away in his mind as his new favorite smell.

When you pull back, he leans his forehead on yours. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I really am."

You nod, moving his head a bit as it rests on yours. "I know."

Eddie steps away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Ya know, uh, if you're not busy, I'm running a DND campaign tonight. I'd love it if you sat in and maybe after...I don't know, maybe I could take you to Benny's?"

You smirked, eyes narrowing at him. "You asking me out, Munson?"

His eyes widened in sheer panic, "Oh--oh my God, I read this all wrong, huh? Please just forget--"

You're quick to ease his worry. "I'd love too."

Putting the dress on the table, you offer Eddie your hand. "Show me the way, Dungeon Master."

He takes it eagerly, but doesn't walk anywhere yet.

"Eddie?" You giggle.

"One second, princess. Damn knees turned to jelly again."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson

799 notes · View notes

nisuna · 4 months

Note

Need more yuuji smut!!

So hear me out-

bestfriend!yuuji finding your depressed ass in the park while it's raining and you're soaked. So he takes you home and take care of you and puts you to sleep in jis clothes.

Then wakes you up by eating you out and then .. you know.. the rest of the stuff

Holy shit am I in my angst era? 😭 Yuji is 100% my comfort character, so this was very nice to write. He's so boyfriend oml I love him so much<3 I don't even care if this does well or not. I really needed this, tysm for the idea!!<3

⚠️ If you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health or has thoughts like these, please look up your local s*uic*de prevention hotlines. Everybody deserves to get help, and everyone deserves to live. It might not always be as easy as in my little story, but please look after yourselves, I love you all so much and thank you all for all of the love and support🫶🏻 As someone who's been struggling with their mental health ever since their early teens I can say that I definitely can't speak for everyone on this matter, but maybe some will find comfort and familiarity in this

TW: angst, s*icid*l ideation, mentions of declining mental health, hurt and comfort, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, body worship, nipple play, body appreciation, mating press, confession, a lot of crying, this is so dear to my heart, supportive!bff!yuji

~2,8k words~

<3masterlist<3

--------mature themes ;strictly 18+ MDNI-----------

Everything has been fucked lately. Your job sucks, school isn't going great, your social life is almost nonexistent, your family is a mess and you just want some peace and calm. You've been home constantly, but you just can't stand it anymore, which is exactly why you went outside for some fresh air. And as if the universe was giving you the middle finger as well, it started raining. But you just couldn't be bothered anymore. Life sucks and your mental health is declining. So you don't even flinch at the rain hitting your lowered head. You don't care that your clothes are soaked at this point. You just sit there and take it. You've been sitting here for what feels like hours. There has been multiple nosy on lookers that passed by mumbling. Some of them showed concern, but some of them were threw disgusted looks at you and assumed you're some kind of junkie that's loitering around in their peaceful park. You couldn't care less, nobody was actually brave enough to approach you anyway, so you let them talk.

It's getting cold, but you can't bring yourself to move. You're soaked and it's getting dark, but you feel like you have nowhere to go. You're starting to feel numb, your hands and feet are cold and you almost can't feel them anymore. This is actually quite nice, you're neither sad nor mad, you feel empty, but it's not uncomfortable like it usually is. You feel calm, you're not worried. You think that freezing to d*ath might actually be a good way to go. It would be like falling asleep without having to ever wake up again. For the first time in weeks you felt yourself smile. You've made up your mind, nobody will miss you anyway so why bother. But as you were about to lie down, you heard a familiar voice screaming your name.

"What the hell-", you thought to yourself as you sat back up and looked around. You didn't have to wait long before seeing a familiar figure run towards you.

"Y/N!!! Where are-? Oh my god there you are. I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?", he reached out to grab your shoulders, only for you to flinch away.

"Yuji, what are you doing here?"

"Well, you weren't picking up my calls and I got worried." When you didn't give him an answer, he continued, "Are you alright? Whoa you're soaked and my god you're ice cold c'mon let's get you home. I don't want you to get sick.", he grabbed your hand, trying to get you off that bench. But you didn't budge.

"Y/N? What's wrong c'mon let's go-"

"No, I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."

"What are you even saying? How could I? You are in no condition to be left alone. It's freezing and you're soaked c'mon let's go home-"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMN IT!", you screamed and felt tears leave your eyes. Shit. When you reached up to wipe away at your eyes, Yuji stopped you and wiped your tears with his sleeve instead.

"Y/N I don't know what's going on, but please let me help.", he knelt down, squeezing your trembling hands and giving you a warm smile.

"Why do you care so much?", that came out way too wobbly for your liking.

"Why do I care? Y/N, you're my best friend of course I care. How could I not? Look at you."

You were at a loss of words, so he continued. "Is it okay if I touch you more?" Nod. As soon as you gave him the okay he pulled you into a tight hug. It took you a bit to relax, but you eventually gave in and let your emotions run wild. You were shaking, crying loudly in his embrace. All the built-up tension of the past weeks came flooding out, but he was there to catch you. He held you close as you let go. He didn't say a word until you calmed down a bit.

He pulled away to take a look at your puffy face. "Let's go over to mine, hm? What do you say?"

"Fuck it.", you thought as you nodded and got up.

"Want me to carry you?"

"No, that's embarassing. I can walk alright.", you huffed.

"Don't worry, it's late. Nobody will see."

"Okay."

After he wrapped you up in his jacket, you got on his back and let him carry you to his apartment. He's so warm and smells really good. You subconsciously nuzzled your face closer to him. Falling asleep like this would be way nicer than alone. You thought of that as you closed your eyes and hugged him tighter.

Luckily, he only lived a couple blocks away from the park. He was gentle when he set you down as soon as you arrived.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it.", there it was again, his sweet smile. "You should go take a bath before you get sick. I'll lend you some of my clothes." Nod.

------

You felt like a new human being after the warm bath. His clothes were also warm and smelled like him. It was oddly comforting. Has he always smelled this good? Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"Oh wow, you look better already.", he grinned.

"Yeah", you cracked a smile back at him, "I do feel a lot better. Thanks a lot."

"Of course! Now, what do you want to eat, you must be starving? How long were you out there anyway?"

"All day actually...", you confessed.

His shocked expression made you giggle as he pushed you into his kitchen.

After a good meal he said you could go sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. But you stopped him. "I don't want to be alone. Can you sleep with me tonight."

"Sure, I thought you needed some space and didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Can we cuddle too?"

"We can do whatever you need."

That's how you found yourself back in his arms for the nth time today. The atmosphere was calm, as you were exchanging occasional remarks while watching something. You don't know what overcame you, but you just felt so safe and taken care of that you leaned in for a kiss. However, you quickly pulled away when you felt him stiffen up and not kiss you back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, I'm so stupid. You probably hated that. Shit, please don't hate me-"

"No, please calm down, it's alright. It's not that I don't like this. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"You're in a very fragile state right now. I don't want you to do something you might regret."

"But I'm sure, I really want this-"

"Sleep it over. Just one night and if you still feel like it tomorrow I'm down. I'm here for you. We can cuddle all you want, though. I just don't want to take advantage of you."

You shot him your biggest pity pout and when that didn't work you gave in. "Alright, alright, I guessss.", you huffed and fell into his embrace. Both of you didn't talk much after that, there was a bit of tension, but you didn't act on it. When you finally drifted off to sleep it was enveloped in his warmth and smell.

You haven't slept this well in a long time. And you definitely haven't been woken up this nicely in a long time, either.

After such a good night's sleep you didn't expect to wake up to your best friend between your thighs, lapping away at your pussy.

"Hi, good morning", he rasped, morning voice heavy. "You just looked so cute wiggling around in my arms and when I checked you were already so wet down there. Sorry, I couldn't resist.", he said while softly kissing up your thigh.

"It's alright, let me wake up first, though ah-", you couldn't finish your sentence, because your head snapped back with a moan, as he dove back between your legs.

"Sorry, but I need this just as bad as you do. You taste so good. God, I've been missing out on this this whole time? Just lay back and let me take care of you."

You couldn't say no. Not that you were able to say anything at all with his skillful tongue and fingers working your cunt open. He made you a whimpering and sensitive mess in a matter of a few seconds.

"Shit, how are you so good?", you let out a drawn-out moan, but didn't get an answer from him. His actions spoke instead of him, as he had you cumming on his tongue soon after. Once he licked you clean he slotted his body between your legs and kissed you nice and deep.

"Mmh", you moaned against his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Tastes good, right?", he grinned.

"Shut up", you playfully hit his chest, grinnig right back at him.

"Alright, my turn.", you smiled, trying to get him to lie down only to be pushed back, as he got on top of you again.

"Nope."

"Hey! Not fair, I wanna taste you, too.", you pouted at him.

"Maybe next time. Today's all about you, I don't want you to lift a single finger. As I said, lay back and let me take care of you."

That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse. So you gave him a nod and waited for his next move. His next move was a very welcome one, as he finally rid him himself of his shirt. You always knew he was well built from years in the gym and other sports. But seeing him like that up close made you gush. His front was mouth watering, and his arms were to die for. He was huge. You would've rubbed your legs together to ease your pain if he wasn't keeping your legs open with his body between them. You didn't even notice you were staring until he spoke up.

"You're practically drooling."

"Fuck, sorry.", you shrieked looking away.

"Don't sweat it. Oogle me all you want, I dig it.", he smiled, pulling your face back in his direction.

"Can I touch you?"

"What kind of question is that? Go for it!"

His skin's so soft, but the ripples of his abs and chest are brick hard. He let you explore his body before grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.

"My turn.", he whispered against your fingers before pulling your shirt up and exposing your tits. Your nipples were already hard from all of the stimulation earlier.

"Fuck, they're so pretty.", he whispered, grabbing one in each hand and giving them a hard squeeze.

"Shit.", you moaned, back arching off the bed and pussy rubbing against his hard cock. To make matters worse, he leaned down, licking a thick stripe up your neck and pinching your aching nipples between his fingers.

"Off. Now.", he demanded, already helping you pull the shirt over your head. You were finally fully exposed and he ate it right up. He leaned back down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and massaging your other breast. He made sure to pay equal attention to both. It felt really good, but you were getting impatient, already grinding against his hard crotch.

"Yuuji~~", you moaned at a particularly hard suck. "Don't tease. Pleasee, I need you.", you whined.

"Shit, sorry I got distracted. Wait here, I'm gonna go get the condoms."

Before he could leave you, you stopped him.

"No, wait, please don't. I want to feel you.", you said, already digging your nails in his arms at the mere thought of doing it raw.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive.", you smiled reassuringly.

"Fuck, alright. Got it.", he swore and rid himself of his boxers.

Once again you were staring. He was bigger than you thought. You definitely couldn't wait any longer. You needed him inside of you immediately.

He didn't make you wait long before he started to slowly bottom out. Your moans grew embarassingly louder with each inch that filled you up.

"Shit, you're so tight. Please loosen up, you're gonna kill me."

"Sorry, it just feels so good.", you mewled back arching and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest. "Kiss me, please~~" He immediately obliged, crashing his mouth against yours. It was so raw and messy when your tongues kept mashing together, but it just felt so right.

"I'm gonna start moving now. I'm gonna fuck you so good."

You nodded and pleaded. Your wish was his command, so he finally picked up his pace. And god, was he good with his hips. With each thrust and shift of your legs, he kept hitting you deeper and deeper until you practically saw stars. It's so cliché, but you felt like you were in heaven.

Your nails kept grazing his broad back and shoulders, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you held back. As if he had read your mind, he leaned down and whispered against your ear.

"Do it. Mark me up, it doesn't hurt. Please don't hold back."

So you didn't hold back anymore. You let your emotions run wild, exploring his body with your hands. Shyness long forgotten, as you left long red streaks all over his back, occasionally pulling him down for a kiss.

The world stood still. You never noticed before, but he has always been there for you. He was the only person that you ever felt loved by. How had you never noticed. Even if you two never said it out loud before, you loved each other. It had to be love. You felt overwhealmed as his fingers slipped between your bodies and started rubbing thick circles in your sensitive clit. Your breath hitched as the words you kept secret for far too long came tumbling out.

"I love you, Yuji. I love you so much, thank you for always taking care of me. I only have you in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Please never leave me, I need you."

If he was taken aback by your words, he didn't show it. He just pressed his lips against yours and kept rubbing and moving his hips until you came undone. And as you were moaning and arching your back, he finally answered.

"I love you, too. So, so much. I always have. I promise I will never leave. No matter what happens, I got you. Forever.", that's when the dams broke down and tears were spilling from your eyes. You just hugged him close and thanked him.

Not long after, he was reaching his limit as well. So he hoisted your legs over his shoulders and pounded away until he filled you up to the brim. All the while he was kissing your tears away and saying how good you were for him and how well you did.

When his hips finally came to a halt, he gently put your legs down and kissed you again. He was gentle when he pulled out and you winced as you felt his cum drip out of you and onto his sheets.

Immediately after, he pulled you close, hugging you like he was about to lose you and you were able to calm down a bit. But the bad thoughts came back as you whispered against his skin.

"Today was so stressful and you must've been worried sick. What if I have another breakdown. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stress you out. I don't want to break your heart if anything happens to me."

"Y/N, look at me.", he begged, hands on your cheeks.

You finally looked back up at him, tears stinging your eyes.

"You're not a burden.", he whispered, giving your forehead a gentle kiss. "I will protect you forever. For as long as I live, I will always be here to catch you. No matter what happens. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to endure everything silently and on your own. I promise, things will get better. I will be here each step of the way. I love you so much, so please don't leave me."

You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get better. Maybe you finally could with his help. It's a big gamble, but you're gonna bet all of your cards on this relationship. After a long pause, you gave him a silent nod and burried your face in his chest, all while he was gently patting and kissing your head.

Life and everyone else might be shit, but at least you got him now. He was worth living for.

--------

If you read this far, thank you so much<3 I hope I can make some lighter and happier content soon, but I'm on a roll right now *sigh* Please stay healthy and look after yourselves, mwah

Hope to see you all very soon<3

589 notes · View notes

its-avalon-08 · 1 month

Note

Can you write one about Nico Hülkenberg in which he has a secret girlfriend and one day she's in the paddock and everyone is like: Bro, who is she??!!! and he's like "That's my wife!!" (please, read in John Mulaney's voice)

my proudest accomplishment (nh27)

nico hulkenberg was a master of compartmentalization. on the track, he was a steely-eyed racer, a whirlwind of focus and precision. but off it, with y/n by his side, he was a different person entirely. laughter lines crinkled around his eyes as he teased her, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper when sharing an inside joke.

keeping their relationship a secret wasn't easy. y/n, fiercely independent, refused to be just another arm candy on the f1 circuit. nico, ever the private soul, valued his focus. so, stolen glances across crowded paddocks and late-night video calls became their norm.

one scorching bahrain grand prix weekend, nico was in the zone. he'd qualified a surprising p3, and the team buzzed with nervous anticipation. as nico entered the motorhome, his eyes scanned the room, searching for his usual source of calm – y/n. but she was nowhere to be seen.

a knot of worry tightened in his stomach. they'd agreed she wouldn't come to the paddock often, the attention overwhelming for her introverted nature. just then, a flash of movement by the window caught his eye. y/n, her back pressed against the glass, fiddled with a camera, her face flushed a light pink.

nico's heart melted. he crossed the room silently, the thump of the music the only sound. y/n jumped, the camera nearly slipping from her grasp.

"nico!" she squeaked, a relieved smile blooming on her face.

he cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray strand of hair. "hey there, sunshine. what are you doing hiding?"

y/n mumbled something about not wanting to be in the way. nico scooped her into a hug, the familiar scent of her vanilla perfume grounding him.

"you're never in the way," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

suddenly, the door swung open, revealing his grinning teammate, kevin magnussen .

"hulkenberg! ready to lose again?" kevin teased, his eyes widening as they fell on y/n. "whoa, who's this stunner?"

y/n shrank back, her cheeks burning even brighter. nico felt a surge of protectiveness. he took y/n's hand, his grip firm yet gentle.

"this," he declared, a hint of pride in his voice, "is my beautiful wife, y/n."

the playful smirk vanished from kevin's face, replaced by genuine surprise. "wife? you never said..."

nico leaned in and kissed y/n softly, the gesture both intimate and public. when he pulled back, a triumphant glint shone in his eyes.

"we like to keep things private," he said, his voice laced with a playful challenge.

y/n, still flustered but undeniably happy, hid a smile behind her hand. the weight of everyone's attention was a little suffocating, but seeing the pride in nico's eyes, the way he held himself a little taller with her by his side, made it all worth it. maybe, just maybe, a little public declaration wouldn't hurt. after all, having nico by her side, as her husband, was a victory lap she wouldn't trade for anything.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

i hope you enjoyed! happy reading <3 do send in more requests! as for pre existing requests- im working on it! lots of love ava

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

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bellaxgiornata · 8 months

Text

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Four]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: This one switches POVs at the end to Matt's. Hopefully you like the update because I quite enjoyed writing Foggy in this one. You'll see why... Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @thychuvaluswife @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this--is--music @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @swissy23 @lilthbunny @that-girl-named-alex

Chewing another bite of your burger, you were barely focused on the conversation occurring at the table amongst your friends. You had been starving ever since the four of you had met at the restaurant, the smell of grilled food causing you to salivate the moment you’d stepped through the doors. So once the waiter had placed your burger on the table in front of you–the one thing you’d been craving nonstop all day–you’d tuned everything else around you out. Marci had shot you a curious look when you'd first dug into your food, but you’d chosen to ignore that, too.

Initially you’d set up this lunch date with your friends so that you could break the news to Foggy and Marci that you were pregnant. For the past two weeks now Karen had helped you keep your secret, but now that you were eight weeks along and had seen that everything was progressing well at your first ultrasound, you thought it was time to clue the pair of them into things, too. You’d been appreciative of Karen’s support lately, but truthfully being even less alone in everything right now sounded even more comforting and appealing.

As for Matt, you’d admittedly been doing your best to avoid him. He still had no idea about the pregnancy, and truthfully you weren’t quite ready to tell him. Over the past couple of weeks he had been calling you and leaving the occasional voicemail, but you’d ignored him every single time. And since you hadn’t had the heart to hear his voice or whatever it was he had to say for himself, you currently had twelve unopened voicemails from him.

You knew you needed to tell Matt the news. Every day you told yourself that, and every day it was a constant battle with yourself between ripping the bandaid off and showing up at his apartment to tell him or not. But then you always became emotional at the thought of just seeing Matt again, and you ultimately always came to the conclusion that you just weren’t quite ready to face him, not with this. You also knew that it wasn’t the sort of news you thought you should tell him in a phone call, either. So for now, Matt had no idea you were pregnant with his child.

“Whoa, slow down there,” Foggy teased from across the table. “Your burger is not going to get up and run away from you if you set it down to breathe for a moment.”

It took a second for you to realize that he was even talking to you, having been too focused on eating your food. Your gaze slowly slid up from your plate, noticing three sets of eyes on you. Thankfully Karen’s expression was more amused and knowing than confused and judging like Foggy and Marci’s across from you. Swallowing down your bite of burger, you lowered it back down towards your plate, sitting up straighter in the booth. You sent the pair of them across from you a sheepish smile, watching as Marci’s hand rose up towards her mouth.

"You've uh…got some ketchup," she said, gesturing beside her lip. “Right here.”

Reaching over, you grabbed your napkin and dabbed at the glob of ketchup on your face. You could still feel all three sets of eyes on you as you wiped off the ketchup, and one look up from your plate confirmed your suspicions. Eyes darting over towards Karen beside you, you saw her send you a slight nod and a soft, encouraging smile. With a sigh you wiped your hands off on your napkin next, figuring now was as good a time as any during this lunch to break the news to Foggy and Marci. And at least the irritating hunger-nausea that seemed to accompany early pregnancy was temporarily abated with how fast you’d eaten half of your burger.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

Foggy waved a dismissive hand, shrugging his shoulders as he sent you a smile. “Not a big deal, though I thought you had asked us here because you wanted to talk to us about something.”

“There uh, there actually was a reason,” you agreed, nodding slowly.

Your eyes slid back and forth between Foggy and Marci, your fingers fidgeting nervously with the napkin still in your hands. The pair of them curiously focused on you from across the table, lowering their utensils and giving you their full attention. Biting the inside of your cheek, you contemplated how you were supposed to tell them something so big. How did you lead up to telling someone that you're pregnant? So when you inevitably couldn’t think of anything to gradually broach the topic with, you opted for just spitting it right out.

“I’m pregnant,” you announced. “Just over eight weeks now.”

Marci’s eyes instantly doubled in size at the news, her lips parting in surprise as she gaped at you. Foggy’s jaw literally dropped, his entire body going rigid in the booth. From beside you, you felt Karen place a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving it a brief comforting squeeze.

“Holy shit,” Foggy breathed out.

You shot him another sheepish smile, still fidgeting with the napkin. “Yeah,” you muttered, “that’s about what I said initially, too.”

“So–so is it…Matt’s?” Marci asked slowly, her brows drawing together.

“Yes,” you answered.

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” Foggy said, frantically waving his hands in front of himself. “You’re pregnant? Like right now? With Matt’s baby?”

“Yes,” you repeated.

Marci began to run a hand through her blonde hair, her lips pursing together as that furrow between her brows grew while she tried to process the information. Foggy was still sitting in the booth beside her and staring at you in utter disbelief. After a minute of that incredulous expression on his face, you quirked a brow at him, no longer able to stand the silence that had fallen over the table.

“What?” you asked him.

“It’s just–” he began, grimacing before shaking his head. “Matt doesn’t know, does he? That you’re pregnant? Because you two aren’t together but you’re carrying his child. And I don’t think he’d be acting the way he is if he knew.”

“Yeah, well,” you began bitterly, picking up your glass of water and bringing it to your lips for a drink, “that’s Matt’s fault.”

“So you’re just not going to tell him?” Foggy asked in shock, his brows shooting up onto his forehead. “You can’t possibly do that to him. You wouldn’t .”

“I am going to tell him,” you said, setting your glass back onto the table. “I tried to tell him that I was pregnant the night we broke up. But he wouldn’t stay to talk to me. Said he needed to go deal with the Russians. Again . He’s the one who told me to leave that night. Told me I could tell him whatever it was I needed to when he got back or that I could go." You winced, eyes dropping down towards your half-finished burger. “He left me alone that night–left us alone. So forgive me for not rushing to tell him the news a second time,” you snapped. “Because I don’t think I should have come last that night on his list of priorities, so right now he's not exactly at the top of mine.”

“If he knew the truth there’s no way Matt would’ve walked out on you like that,” Foggy told you earnestly. “There’s no way. He’d have stayed, I promise you that.”

Your eyes flew up from the table, landing back on Foggy across from you. There was an almost pleading look on his face as he sat there across from you. But as you opened your mouth to respond, you could feel that familiar rush of anger unfurling inside of you as you remembered that night.

“I practically begged him to stay and talk to me, Fog,” you growled, one arm possessively wrapping around your abdomen. “I was crying and begging him to stay and he left . That’s on Matt, not me.”

“I absolutely agree with you on that,” Foggy replied quickly, nodding his head. “He briefly told me what happened that night and I agree that he fucked up. Big time. But knowing what I do now? I know Matt needs to know the truth. He needs to make things right–”

“There’s no way Matt could make any of this right, Fog,” you cut him off. “And even if there somehow was, do you really think Matt would want to raise a child? With what he does? How obsessive he gets over things? The way he doesn’t even take care of himself?” You shook your head quickly, one arm still possessively wrapped around your belly. “No, that man couldn’t possibly care about being a father. All he cares about is Daredevil and Hell’s Kitchen. He can have a relationship with his child, I won’t stop that, but I’m the one who’ll ultimately be raising this baby.”

“You don’t know that,” Foggy countered, shaking his head as he leaned across the table towards you with that pleading expression only growing more desperate on his face. “You don’t know Matt wouldn’t want to be a father.”

“Actually, Fog,” Marci said, cutting him off, “I think I’m with her on this. From the things I’ve heard about Matt’s hobby from you and Karen, I was honestly shocked he had managed to successfully keep a relationship for as long as he has. But being a father? That’s an even bigger responsibility. I mean, he already has difficulty prioritizing the firm with you and Karen half the time. You really think a baby would be any different?”

“Yes!” Foggy exclaimed, his eyes darting between you and Marci. “Matt has his flaws, sure, I know that. I do,” he continued fervently. “But I know Matt. He wouldn’t walk away from his own child. He wouldn’t .”

"I'm with Fog on this," Karen said, catching everyone's attention. "I think Matt wouldn't be acting this way if he knew."

Marci’s eyes narrowed at Karen, her head slowly tilting to the side. "You already knew she was pregnant, didn't you?" she asked. "Because you don't seem very surprised right now."

"She showed up at my place shortly after the breakup and I told her," you explained. "I just didn't want to be alone in all of this. I had been waiting until after my ultrasound to break the news to you and Foggy next. I just–just wanted you all to know so I wasn't entirely alone."

Marci’s hand slid across the table towards yours, grabbing onto it. She sent you a warm smile that swiftly quieted the anger you felt towards Matt that had been burning inside of you for weeks now.

"You're not alone in this," she assured you, squeezing your hand. "You've always got us."

"Yeah," Foggy agreed, his face softening when you glanced at him beside her. "Whatever happens with Matt in all of this, you know we're always here for you. Through anything."

Tears began to fill your eyes, your lips trembling at the show of support. Truly you were grateful that everything with Matt had led you to at least meeting all three of them.

"Thanks guys," you whispered. "You don't know what that means to me."

Shutting your apartment door behind yourself, you turned and leaned your back up against it, slipping your aching feet out of your shoes with a deep groan. Head rolling back against the door as you stretched your toes, your eyes took in the sight of your empty apartment. Everything was neat and tidy except for the couch in your living room, which was often where you found yourself cocooned in a soft blanket whenever you were home lately, binging your shows and trying to ignore the hollow, lingering pain in your chest from your persistent heartache.

The pillows on your couch were a mess, a couple of them stacked together and resting against an armrest that you'd long since claimed as your usual spot. The extra height of them stacked helped with your nasal congestion–another unfortunate perk of pregnancy you’d recently come to learn about. Your plush blanket was still strewn across the cushions looking exactly the same as when you'd crawled out from underneath it earlier to get ready for your lunch date with your friends. Truthfully your couch still looked about as inviting as anything could to you lately.

With a sigh, your right hand absently landed on your belly. Any other normal Sunday in the past you'd have had plans with Matt right now. Grabbing groceries together or maybe getting coffee. Planning out dinner or listening to audiobooks on the couch. Having mind-blowing sex in the bedroom that left you blissed out and pleasantly exhausted afterwards, the pair of you remaining naked in bed just talking and losing track of time for half the day.

But not today.

Though admittedly it had been awhile since Matt had been able to give you his undivided attention on a weekend. Usually he had been trying to catch up on work or sleep before he went back out again as Daredevil at night. But that didn't stop the sting of his absence that you’d felt over the past few weeks since the breakup.

Eyes dropping down to your abdomen, a faint smile curled your lips upwards. You weren't truly alone though. Not fully. And at least Foggy and Marci knew the truth about your pregnancy now and were completely supportive of you. That's what mattered at the moment.

"Alright my little devil," you whispered to your small bump affectionately, "what's on the agenda for tonight?"

Lifting the hem of your shirt up with your other hand, you stretched out the spandex band of your maternity pants with a frown. They had become far more comfortable than your actual jeans this past week, especially once those had been near impossible for you to actually button closed. You’d recently bought a few basic maternity items, but the maternity jeans made you feel considerably less attractive with that stretchy band reaching up to almost the bottom of your bra.

"Should I get into something significantly more comfortable than these maternity pants?" you asked your bump. "Maybe those cozy, stretchy leggings I just bought? Then you and I could curl up and take a nap on the couch before figuring out dinner?"

Pushing off of the door, you bent down with another groan as you picked up your shoes and placed them in the nearby closet. Afterwards, you shuffled your tired feet through your living room and straight towards your bathroom just through the short hallway.

"But first I'm going to pee for the millionth time today," you muttered under your breath. "Something I feel like I'm doing all the time now."

You used the bathroom quickly before heading to your room, taking your time to switch your clothes into something more comfortable. It wasn’t like you were planning to go out anywhere for the rest of your Sunday night. It didn’t matter that you were wearing a massive oversized shirt and a pair of maternity leggings that you’d rolled the waistband down to just below your bump. No one was going to see you, anyway.

“Alright,” you murmured as you left your bedroom, shuffling your way back down the hallway towards your living room. “Let’s nap and figure out dinner afterwards. Seems like you’re feeling pasta tonight, so I guess that’s the plan.”

Settling onto the couch, you pulled your feet up onto the cushions and underneath your blanket before you laid down. Almost instantly you could feel your sinuses closing up and you tried to ignore your irritation at it. At least it wasn’t the nausea, because that admittedly had been the worst part of everything so far. Getting comfortable on the couch, you tugged the blanket up to your chin, your eyes steadily closing as your exhaustion began to overtake you.

“You and I will be just fine on our own,” you whispered drowsily, patting your bump. “I’ll find a way to make this work. One way or another, we'll both be okay.”

Matt leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk as he buried his face in his hands. He was tired and annoyed this morning, irritated that his Sunday out hadn’t been too eventful last night. Ever since he’d finished dealing with the Russians, having gotten Petrov into police custody with the help of Mahoney, Hell’s Kitchen had been oddly quiet on the organized crime front. Which was poor timing considering the fact that Matt hadn’t wanted to stay in his apartment where he’d just be reminded how alone he was every night.

It didn’t help that he’d been sleeping horribly, too. He wasn’t out as late as he had been for the past few weeks, meaning he had the time to sleep, but he clearly lacked the ability lately. His mind just wouldn’t seem to quiet, becoming almost louder than the sounds of the city around him when he tried to. Which was also quite irritating.

With an annoyed huff, he slid his hands down his face, straightening back up in his chair. He picked up his glasses from his desk and placed them back onto his face. He was tired but he still had work to do. There was a frustrating case he’d been helping Foggy with lately and he figured he could distract himself with that today. He didn’t want to think about anything else.

Though Matt had barely gotten far focusing on the case before he heard Foggy entering the office, closing the door a bit harsher than usual behind himself. Even Karen startled in her office at the unexpected rough slam of the door. Matt’s brows furrowed behind his glasses immediately afterwards when he heard Foggy make his way straight to his office instead of his own.

Confused, Matt’s head darted up just as Foggy threw his door open. He could practically feel the anger radiating off of Foggy as he stepped into the room, his breathing heavy and his heart beating a little faster than usual. Matt’s eyes narrowed curiously behind his lenses at the tension in Foggy’s body and the increase in his blood pressure.

“Are you fucking serious, Matt?” Foggy snapped.

Matt's brows knitted further together, even more confused at Foggy's behavior this morning. He hadn't seen Foggy all weekend, what could he have done to upset him?

“About what exactly?” he asked carefully.

Foggy stormed further into the room, roughly slamming both of his hands flat on Matt’s desk as he leaned forward. Matt’s head tilted curiously to the side, noticing the elevation in Foggy’s heart rate further increasing. Apparently his answer hadn’t been the right one.

“You said you’d talk to her, Matt!” Foggy yelled. “You told me you were going to apologize and make things up to her! You told me that!”

Of course this was about you.

“Fog, I’ve been trying to reach out to her,” he replied calmly, trying to soothe his friend’s anger. “I’ve called her countless times over the past couple of weeks. I’ve left her multiple messages. She keeps ignoring me and not answering my calls. Clearly she doesn’t want to hear what I have to say. There’s nothing I can do about that.”

Foggy scoffed loudly, angrily shaking his head. “There’s nothing you can do about that?” he shot back sarcastically. “Are you serious? Dammit, Matt!”

Matt heard the way Foggy’s hand swiftly rose from the desk, swinging through the air towards himself. Matt’s hand twitched from its place on the desk out of instinct, ready to dart out and grab Foggy’s wrist, but he was stunned when his friend actually landed a hit upside his head.

“What the hell, Fog?” Matt snapped, scooting back in his desk chair as he ran a hand over the sore spot on his temple. “What’d you hit me for?”

“Honestly, I–I’m surprised you even let me do that,” Foggy said, his anger briefly replaced by surprise. “Figured you would’ve stopped me before I could.”

“Well I didn’t think you were actually going to hit me!” Matt shot back. “Why the hell did you hit me?”

“Because I’m pissed at you, Matt!” Foggy roared, anger quickly returning. “And I’m disappointed in you! You damn well know you could show up at her apartment if she’s not answering your calls. You’re just making excuses.”

“Show up and do what, Fog?” Matt retorted. “Force her to talk to me when she clearly wants nothing to do with me? Hurt both of us even more by forcing that interaction? It’s probably better if she goes on hating me anyway. She’ll move on faster, at least.”

Foggy’s hand flew to the bridge of his nose, pinching it between his fingers. Matt heard the sharp hiss of his frustration between his gritted teeth. Seeing how upset Foggy was had Matt quickly beginning to question just why he was so worked up over this situation. It was between you and him, after all. Why did Foggy want you to apologize and talk this badly?

“Just promise me you’ll go over there and physically talk to her, okay?” Foggy said, his anger barely restrained. “That you’ll offer her a proper apology and talk to her?”

Matt shifted in his seat, his eyes once again narrowing behind his lenses. “Why is this so important to you?” he asked carefully. “It’s been a few weeks now, why are you still so adamant that we talk?”

“Because,” Foggy said, his fingers releasing his nose as his hand lowered to his side, “I know how important it is for the both of you. And I also know how stubborn and idiotic you can be. Someone needs to kick you in the ass before you make a big mistake an even bigger one. So just promise me you’ll talk to her.”

Matt’s tongue slipped out between his lips, nervously wetting them. After a moment he nodded, hearing the way Foggy’s heart rate started to gradually decrease back to its normal pace.

“Yeah, alright,” he assured his friend. “I’ll talk to her.”

“And I mean soon, Matt,” Foggy pressed. “Not in another few weeks.”

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding again. “Okay, I’ll go talk to her. I promise.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #daredevil

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sunraies · 1 year

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a one shot where rafe and y/n are a couple and y/n gets hurt or something and rafe becomes super protective over her?

Sure thing! I tried, I hope this is ok x

Freak Accident

Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

Warnings - Fluff, angst. Hospital, mentions of injuries. No use of Y/N

When Rafe gets the call that you are in the hospital, his heart drops to his stomach

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Rafe's heart dropped to his stomach when he received the call from Sarah that you were in the hospital.

At first, he thought it was a joke, some sick prank to get him annoyed. But when the reality of her voice sunk in, he had never driven a golf cart faster in his life, and he was pretty sure he broke the speed limit the whole way in Topper's Jeep.

He had been golfing at the club with Topper while you spent the day with Sarah. You wanted to learn to surf, and as much as he hated the idea, he knew he couldn't stop you. Once your mind was set on something, there was no stopping you.

Sarah had promised you would be safe. Kie and the other pogues would be there, all experienced surfers.

Once, he made sure you were ok. He was certain he was going to kill them all.

"Rafe!" Topper called out as he fumbled to catch the keys after Rafe dumped the jeep outside the hospital, leaving the engine running as he hurried inside. It was a miracle he was thinking straight enough to put the car in park.

He quickly found the front desk and asked where you were after cutting in front of a elderly woman. He ran for the elevators, mashing the botton, and when they took too long, he cursed before running up the stairs.

Sarah stood in the hall outside your room, wrapped in John B's arms when he finally made it.

"What the fuck, happened?" He breathed out, cheeks red.

"She's fine, dude," JJ spoke up after they all looked at each other. He sat with Kie, relaxing in the hard plastic chair and arm over her shoulders.

"I wasn't fucking talking to you" Rafe spat, pointing at him while still staring at Sarah.

"There was a huge wave, and she hit the rocks," Sarah said quietly. "But she's ok"

"How the fuck is she ok? She's in the hospital and it's your fault!" He snapped, running a hand through his hair.

"Whoa, it's no one's fault," John B stepped in front of Sarah. "It was a freak accident, man,"

Rafe nodded a little too frantically before scoffing and lunging for John B. "I'll show you a freak accident, man."

"Hey, Rafe. Not here." Topper held him back, having stepped out the elevator and found the scene before him.

They struggled for a moment before Topper snapped him out of it. "Go see your girl," He said softly, holding his shoulders as Rafe nodded slowly.

"He can't. The nurse is in with her, " Kie said quietly. "They said family only."

Rafe shook his head and closed his eyes. "Nah, fuck that" He broke away from Topper's hold before barging into your hospital room.

You jumped a little as the door flew open while the nurse was taking your blood pressure. You were sure it suddenly spiked as your very flustered boyfriend stood in the doorway.

His ocean eyes scanning over you, focusing on the bruise on your cheek, to the cast on your left arm and down to the cut on your right leg.

"Hi, gorgeous." You smiled gently at him, hoping he would calm down at the sound of your voice.

The nurse looked between the pair of you as Rafe breathed out a small 'Hi'. His eyes were still checking your injuries.

"Your boyfriend?" She asked. "You know it's really only meant to be family allowed"

"Husband," Rafe blurted out. "I'm her, husband. No way am I leaving now. "

Your eyes went wide as the nurse shook her head before smiling knowingly, "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. It wasn't on the charts."

She obviously knew Rafe was lying but humoured it. She was very sweet. "Take a seat, I'm just finishing obs, and our girl here should be good to go."

Rafe didn't need to be told twice as he took a seat beside the bed, desperately wanting to hold you, but let the nurse finish.

"I'm a little worried about the concussion, but other than that. You should be fine for discharge." She smiled. "I'm sure with this guy around, I don't have to worry about someone to look after you once you go home"

"Damn right, she's not leaving my sight." He was deathly serious even though the nurse laughed at the charm to his tone.

"Alrighty then. I'll go get the papers." She left, leaving you and Rafe in silence while you could hear Sarah and the others asking about you.

"Come here, baby." You held out your uninjured hand to him, which he took quickly but carefully. He seemed nervous to touch you, like you would break.

"You scared the shit out of me," He sighed, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

"I know. I'm sorry." You sighed, hating the idea of him being so worried as you knew you'd be the same if the roles were reversed.

He sat down beside you, and you pulled him into your arms, ignoring the pain into your side as he held his weight off you. You ran your hand through his hair. "I'm ok, I'm just a little bruised"

He scoffed and pulled away, "and broken. You broke your arm, baby"

You hummed. "Oh yeah, would you look at that?" You were sarcastic as you looked down at your cast arm. "I wondered why it was heavy"

He rolled his eyes and smiled, aleast you were well enough to still be yourself. He chose that moment to gently cup your cheek. He was careful of the bruise as he kissed you.

You melted into him, thankful Sarah had called him. He was the best pain relief.

"I meant it, I'm not letting you out of my sight," He whispered against your lips.

"Husband, huh?" You whispered back, teasing as your foreheads rested together.

He blushed and smiled. "I would love to be"

"I like the sound of that. Wife sounds like a good word, too. "

"I would love you to be," He breathed, making you pull back in shock.

"Rafe Cameron, if that was a proposal, you can -"

He cut you off with the kiss. "Baby, the day I propose it will be a day you never forget. That was not a proposal." He chuckled.

Honestly, if he was asking there and then, you would have said yes. But knowing Rafe, it would be something involving fireworks and champagne.

#rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks #outerbanks fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe request

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erodasfishtacos · 23 days

Text

Somethin’ Unholy (sexclubowner!hxengaged!yn)

prompt: YN and Arthur have to adjust their arrangement. The first scene leaves YN hopeless and wondering if she should even come back to the club.

word count: 9.7k+

warnings: emotional infidelity (kinda, it’s complicated), d/s dynamics, mean Harry

author’s note: next part is posted on patreon & continuing to be updated this week💕 this is the last part that will be posted on tumblr.

to get access to the rest of this trope as well as 350+ other exclusive writings - you can join for $3USD! -> HERE <-

PART ONEk

+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•

YN isn’t above this.

Actually, this is exactly where she wants to be.

Her arms are akin to jello as she slowly starts to move across the floor, the hardwood was rough on her knees, and she had to complain.

YN sits back on her heels, eyes sparkling and challenging, she was going to make Harry prove himself as a good dominant.

Harry raises an eyebrow, questioning but unmoving from where he stands.

“Hurts my knees, sir,” YN tells him, the ‘sir’ was patronizing and not obedient in the way it was intended to be used when he demanded it from her.

“The funny thing is…” Harry tilts his head, eyes tracing over every inch of her, “I didn’t fucking ask if it hurt. Crawl to me now.”

YN huffs, putting her palms flat again and moving towards him.

“Slower. Move slower. I really want you to feel that ache you were bitching about in your knees,” Harry tells her, his voice was so calm and monotone that it was making her want to get him mad.

YN does as he says but to the extreme, going so entirely slow that she’s barely moving any bit forward.

Her face is towards the floor and suddenly, there is a pair of leather boots in her line of vision, standing in front of her.

A hand weaves into her hair, twirling the strands between slender fingers, and pulling upwards without mercy.

YN lets out a high-pitched squeak at the pain prickling on her scalp, forcing her neck to tilt upwards to look at Harry who’s now squatting in front of her.

“Is that too rough?” Arthur echos from behind her.

YN shouldn’t feel annoyance, this is a learning experience for both of them but she wants him to just sit there quietly.

The way Harry looks up towards Arthur was downright terrifying.

A sharp, mean smile spreads wide enough on Harry’s face that his dimples pop in both of his cheeks, and then he tugs her hair until her head is turned a an uncomfortable angle, looking towards her fiancé.

“S’it too rough for the lil’ angel?” Harry asks in a mocking tone, his grip hasn’t relented and YN had missed this type of pain so much she could cry.

“N-no, it’s good,” YN manages to get out between clenched teeth before focusing her eyes back on Harry.

She didn’t want to remember that Arthur was here.

“It’s good, sir,” Harry lets his blunt fingernails tease at her scalp, “You’re being so awful already. It’s making it hard for me to want to play with you.”

If YN wasn’t in a headspace like this, she could logically identify that he was saying this to get under her skin, making her insecure.

But because her rational thinking isn’t as present as it normally is, it makes her chest ache, and her voice sounds small when she says, “I’ll be good, sir.”

Harry’s laugh is loud enough that she jumps, his hand loosens and unweaves from her hair as she blinks up at him.

He was ethereal under the dim light, all of his sharp features were defined, like they were from renaissance times, and he’d be unreal but YN was witnessing him with her own eyes.

“Did that spark a nerve, pet?” He teases as he stands up, leaving her on hands and knees.

YN only folds her lips inward, refusing to give him an answer because she wanted to get the biggest reaction possibly out of him.

When he realizes that she’s not going to reply, he runs his tongue over his teeth, “Right now, I wish you were really my sub. This would end so fuckin’ poorly for such a defiant slut.”

“Whoa, I don’t know if you should call her that,” Arthur interrupts with an affronted tone, like he’s trying to stand up for YN.

YN feels the irritation of his interrupting itching at the back of her teeth, she wanted him to just sit there and stop.

YN doesn’t realize that she lets out a spoiled noise of impatience, of annoyance at her fiancé.

It causes Harry to take a step forward, lightly pressing the bottom sole of his shoe on her splayed fingers, warning.

“This is a learning experience,” Harry scolds her, pressing down just enough to add pressure on her knuckles, “ He’s allowed to ask questions and voice limits. If you have an issue with that, there is no purpose to this session. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” YN replies quietly because she did not want this session to end.

It had only just begun and she felt such a spark that had never been there before.

This was visceral, different than any experience that she had had with Klein before they broke up.

The atmosphere, the way that Harry held himself with such knowledge and confidence was unmatched.

“Good girl,” Harry murmurs lowly, almost as if he didn’t want Arthur to hear, and he moves his boot away from her fingers.

The praise felt fucking addictive.

She wanted more of it.

But at the same time, she wanted to create mayhem too.

“Is that a limit for you? Yellow?” Harry asks Arthur, checking in like a responsible dom would do during a lesson.

YN hated that it took his attention away from her.

“Er, not necessarily. I’m…this is all just new. I didn’t know whether she liked being called that or not is all,” Arthur trails off unsurely but he doesn’t sound like he’s distressed, he definitely is a mixture of curiosity and arousal.

He liked this.

“Arthur,” Harry replies in a conversational tone, he nudges his foot against YN to signal her to stand up, “You will learn that it doesn’t matter what YN likes because she likes to be disobedient and insubordinate. It only matters if she uses her colors. If she doesn’t like something enough to stop, she will either use ‘yellow’ or ‘red’.”

YN stands, feeling awkward in how overdressed she is as Harry provides education to her fiance, this was such a weird situation, and she wanted Arthur to stop bringing her out of her floaty headspace.

“Right, slut?” Harry smirks wickedly, he stands with his hands behind his back, and pointedly not trying to touch her in any way.

She could tell that in this weird dynamic, Harry was trying to be respectful that he was instructing and not taking ownership of her as her dominant, despite her body screaming at him that that is exactly what she wants from him.

“Yes,” YN agrees, purposely leaving out the ‘sir’.

The smile drops from his face, he had thought he’d broken her, and it wasn’t that easy by just some hair-pulling and name-calling, it would take so much more, and he would learn her threshold for pain tolerances is high.

Harry’s lips press into a firm line and he steps forward, grip firm on her wrist as he jerks her forward, making her stumble into his chest, and he whispers into her ear, “God, if you were mine you would be broken.”

It was only loud enough for YN to hear.

But he takes a step back, letting go of her wrist, and an odd emotion she can’t read crosses his face before he announces to them both, “This is an instructional session as I’ve stated before. That was an example of power play but now I will move onto the next portion of learning.”

And something has switched, YN doesn’t know how to put her finger on it but Harry had suddenly become more formal with her.

More of a teacher, less of a dominant like how he was acting in the beginning.

She wanted the latter to come back out, a hollowness started in her chest when he walked away from her to sit down on a tufted leather bench, and a completely uninterested expression on his face.

“Strip down to your bra and underwear,” Harry replies in almost a robotic tone, none of the teasing and lift was there anymore.

YN is shaky as she rids herself off her trousers, the structured corset bodysuit she had put on, and she was down to her strapless bra and seamless thong.

YN wasn’t self-conscious, she loved her body and was proud to show it off but there was something about Harry’s demeanor that made an inkling of self-doubt creep in as she stood in the middle of the room where he had left him.

When she subconsciously goes to wrap her arm around her chest, as if to give herself any type of modesty, Harry clicks his tongue at her and shakes her head.

Without having to speak, YN puts her arm back down at her side and takes a deep breath, shaky on the exhale.

“Ask to come lay on my lap,” Harry tells her calmly, his legs spread enough to be obscene, a hand resting suggestively on his inner thigh, much too close to his groin to be appropriate in any other setting.

“May I come sit on your lap, sir,” YN repeats as steadily as possible, she wanted to be good, and she wanted to earn his interest back.

Harry is surprised by her compliance, definitely not expecting her to follow his instructions without a fight.

“Come here, now,” His voice is tighter, lip between his teeth as he watches her carefully.

“Ho-how, sir?” YN swallows because she doesn’t want to get scolded again.

“How do you walk? That's a silly question, are you a dumb pup?” Harry asks as if she just asked the most outlandish question ever, “Walk with your two feet unless that’s too much brainpower for you, pet.”

“YN,” Arthur speaks from behind her, still sitting but YN’s back is turned to him.

She knows she should look, this is a lesson for them, to learn how to do this, to model the play, to communicate better.

She knows they’re here as a couple and Harry is simply an instructor.

But she doesn't want to turn to look at him.

YN keeps her eyes on Harry, in an almost pleading to have him help, to speak to Arthur for her because her fiance kept dragging her out of the fuzzy headspace she was desperately trying to sink into.

Harry doesn’t let anything show if he’s annoyed by Arthur.

He probably isn’t because this is a lesson for him, he isn’t really playing.

YN was and that was the issue.

“Yea-yeah?” YN manages to reply after blinking a few times, almost like snapping out of a trance, and she turns to make eye contact with her partner.

Arthur was visibly flushed, his hand was strategically placed over his lap to hide what YN is guessing is evidence that this situation is turning him on, even though he doesn’t need to hide that because that’s mostly the point of all this.

“Is…Um, color? I just didn’t know you liked being talked to that way or…ordered around like that…” Arthur still doesn’t sound upset or necessarily bothered by the revelation, just maybe a bit surprised.

“Green. I like it,” YN nods because she wants to snap at him, tell him that she’s been trying to communicate that she likes this for ages and he hasn’t caught on whatsoever, but she doesn’t want to ruin the scene so she simplifies it down to that.

“Ask him his color,” Harry reminds her from behind, “You need to check in with him too.”

I don’t want to check-in with him.

“What’s your color?” YN tries to keep interests in her tone but these interactions with Arthur are taking any semblance of an actual scene out of her mind which she knows that wasn’t the goal but she had made it her own at some point when this started.

“Green. You look amazing right now and I -,” Arthur smiles so sweetly at her, genuine and honest.

It makes her feel guilty.

YN was pretty sure in this moment that Arthur would never have the ability to be mean to her in the way she needs, in the way that Harry can provide, and that leaves her with a sinking feeling.

“Get your ass over here now,” Harry cuts Arthur off mid-sentence, irritation finally settling in on his features.

YN walks as gracefully as she can over to him, standing between his spread legs, and he reaches out to run his fingertips over the curve of her hip.

It’s surprisingly gentle until he pinches her, enough to sting, and says, “Kneel.”

YN obliges, her knees were already going to be bruised from the hardfloor beneath her but by this point, she was welcoming the aches that were going to last for days after, to remind her of Harry.

“Let’s keep simple today, shall we?” Harry asks her as he runs his open palm across her collarbone, getting closer to her chest.

Right now, she’s blatantly aware that they haven’t done anything inherently sexual which she be lying if she said that it’s not clawing at the pits of arousal in her stomach.

YN doesn’t know if she’s ever been as attracted to someone sexually as she was with Harry.

She knew these instructional sessions weren’t for his pleasure but fuck, she wishes that she got to see him in action - real, in scene action, not this only sliver of what he actually has to offer.

YN nods in response to him, trying to be on her best behavior because her disobedience really hadn’t made him more prone to play with her further than teaching.

“Open,” Harry commands as he withdraws his fingers, thumb now moving to tug on her bottom lip sharply as she complies. As soon as it was, he pressed down on her tongue, with enough pressure that she had to swallow harshly not to gag.

Harry laughs as he watches her, never taking his eyes off of her, “You can’t even handle my thumb but you want to have the attitude of a girl who can take me all the way down their throat.”

YN can’t speak, can’t tell him that she can and she can show him.

Instead, her brattiness that she’d been trying to tamper down flares right back up as she sinks her teeth into the skin of his hand in a clear way to convey she didn’t like what he had just said.

It takes Harry by surprise, his features twitching just the slightest before he’s steadying them again, and pushes down further on her tongue until she actually does gag. Before he’s pulling his spit-soaked thumb out and dragging it across her cheek, surely smearing the meticulously applied foundation and bronzer.

There’s a conflict, YN can tell Harry is debating on what his next course of action is and he seems to be arguing with himself internally before he’s gripping her jaw and making their eyes meet.

“Cut the brat shit. I’m not your dom, this is a lesson. Stop getting so far into it. Save it for your fiance,” Harry’s voice is cold, mean but not in a teasing way, almost a dismissive way and it doesn’t feel like they’re playing anymore.

It seems like he’s actually scolding her even though she sure he probably just thinks he’s giving her a reminder so that there’s no hard feelings between her and Arthur after this but it felt like a knife in her chest.

YN feels any of the feistiness leave her body, it would probably be a responsible time to use her colors, and let him know that she’s bordering on ‘yellow’ because she realizes she’s misinterpreting this whole scene.

He was never going to get into the full headspace with her.

Of course, he wasn’t.

This was fully for teaching.

And YN was trying to fall into her subspace that she would with her actual dom.

But the text messages, in particular, made her confused.

Why would he have goaded her over text like that?

“Let’s get this over with,” Harry presses his tongue to his cheek, looking frustrated as he signals for YN to stand right back up.

“Alright, I’m going to demonstrate how to properly spank. We’ll do five, alright?” Harry tells her as he reaches for her wrist, tugging her until he can position her over his lap, face-down.

But you said fifteen in the text.

Harry is now talking to Arthur directly as he lands the smacks, informing him on the proper amount of pressure, placement, repetition, and timing that all make a difference to how the scene goes.

YN can’t even focus on the words, her fingertips gripping at the leather bench in front of her, and the hits weren’t hard, they barely stung but she felt disappointment at this whole experience sink into her bones.

After the five, Harry pulls her into a sitting position next to him before standing up.

“No comment then? Want to be a brat the whole time but when you actually get a spanking, you’re dead silent?” Harry questions, hands on his hips, and he just overall seemed…unhappy.

“I wouldn’t call that a spanking,” YN scoffs in annoyance but it no longer had any playfulness in it, “Is this scene done? I’m ready to go.”

Arthur is oblivious to the intense tension between the two, standing up and straightening out his trousers, wiping the legs off, and smiling widely, “That was pretty awesome. I liked it more than I thought.”

YN embarrassingly enough feels like crying.

“Arthur,” Harry’s eyes haven’t left YN’s, “Can you leave YN and I for a second? To discuss before you head out.”

“Absolutely, I’ll be at the bar,” Arthur agrees easily, trusting as he excuses himself from the room with a kiss to YN’s cheek.

YN moves to pick up her clothes, bunching them in her arms, and refusing to acknowledge Harry’s existence as she lays them out of the bench to try to organize them in order to put them back on.

“Look at me.”

YN refuses, shaking her head, and clutching her shirt in her fist.

She felt embarrassed, let down, disappointed.

YN doesn’t hear Harry move but jumps when his hand snakes around her waist, physically turning her around to face him, and god, why the fuck are there tears streaming down her face right now?

“Why are you crying?” Harry asks bluntly, his hand leaves her hip and that makes the tears fall harder.

She’s crying over a fucking stranger who sent her a few flirty messages.

“It doesn’t matter,” YN tries to keep her gaze on her feet but the finger under her chin doesn’t allow it.

“It does matter,” Harry argues, exasperation through each word.

“I…It just wasn’t what I expected,” YN replies honestly because Harry can see straight through her lies anyways, “I’m just disappointed but that’s on me for my expectations, it’s not your nor Arthur’s fault.”

“What were your expectations?” Harry seems hesitant to ask like they both know that the honest answer isn’t appropriate for YN being in a relationship, engaged to be married type of commitment.

YN squeezes her eyes shut, the words are stuck in her throat until his hand comes back to her hip, very cautiously rubbing a circle on her hip, “I…I know you made it very clear that this was instructional. It’s not your fault for my expectations. I just….wanted….I just wanted a scene with you. A real scene.”

“You should want that with your fiance,” Harry sighs as watches her, voice low, “You should want to do a scene with him, not me.”

“I get that you don’t want that with me, that’s okay-”

“I didn’t fucking say that, did I?” Harry cuts her off, a defensiveness that she hadn’t heard before in his tone, his thumb pressing in a bit harder to her hip, pressing against the bone and purposefully.

“It seemed like there were a few moments in the scene where you were into it but then…you went back to…” YN trails off because she doesn’t know the best way to put it into words.

“I went back to teaching because I shouldn’t have let myself get like that in the first place,” Harry bites out, his lip twitching as it furls downward, “It was unprofessional. This was strictly educational.”

“Do you often get lost for a moment in the scene when you’re doing instruction?” YN asks timidly, unsure of whether she wants to know the answer and if she’s trying to make this more special than it was to him.

“Never has happened before,” Harry tells her, his gaze unfaltering, “I’ve never struggled not to fall into an instructional scene before tonight.”

“This isn’t in my head,” YN swallows, feeling a bit braver in what she believes, “There is…a compatibility between the two of this. In this setting.”

“Be that as it may, it doesn’t matter,” Harry’s words are tight, strained, “You are in a relationship, working on these issues between the two of you. So that Arthur can provide you with what you want.”

“Tell me honestly, sir,” YN lets the name roll off her tongue thickly, smiling to herself when his hand squeezes at her again, pressing and pressing into her skin, “Do you think that Arthur will be able to tame me? You can’t even do it.”

Finally, that familiar wicked smile spread over his tense features, his eyes twinkling under the dim light.

Because just like her, he loves a challenge.

“I could break you, over and over,” Harry steps further into her space, she was suddenly very aware of how undressed she was in comparison to him, “Make you into the sweetest little sub that I would never get sick of using.”

“That-that doesn’t answer my question,” YN’s breath was picking up, he could tell, and he moves to cup the side of her neck, thumb laying over her pulse point.

“The question of whether Arthur will be able to learn how to handle you? In the way you need?” Harry clarifies as his eyes dart down to watch the way his fingertips dimple the skin underneath them.

YN nods.

“You and I both know the answer to that,” Harry scoffs with a shake of his head, the smiling fading a bit, “No, I do not think your fiance will be able to give you what you need. He doesn’t seem like the type to suddenly be able to dom.”

YN wants to kiss him, drop her kneels in front of him, beg him for anything he’s willing to give her.

And yet, she’s engaged.

The ring had never felt good on her finger but right now, it felt like a fucking trapped life sentence.

Harry moves to take a step back which has YN reaching out to grip her wrist, “Please.”

He lets her hold him but sighs, “We probably shouldn’t do another lesson together. I don’t think that I can do another scene with you acting like such a fuckin’….a brat and try to keep it as a learning experience. I can set you two up with another instructor-”

“Why didn’t you set us up with a different instructor in the first place?” YN throws the question at him, “Raven said you didn’t play here anymore or teach. But you-”

“You know why,” Harry cuts her off, not willing to lay it out any clearer for her, “You know why and I can admit it was a bad idea. I should have thought it through and I shouldn’t have offered myself.”

“It’s because you want me,” YN lets a smile creep onto her face, arrogance filtering throug her veins and she takes his hand, bringing it to her hip once again, “You wanted to play with me. You wanted a chance-”

“And I shouldn’t have given into it,” Harry won’t let her finish a sentence, “I know from your paperwork that you aren’t in an open relationship. You need to go the fuck out there to your fiance and forget about this.”

YN doesn’t like that answer.

Of course she doesn’t.

But he’s absolutely right.

What she was doing was borderline cheating, by just engaging in their conversations that she wouldn’t have had if Arthur was in the room with them.

YN had never once thought about cheating on Arthur or any of her partner’s in the past.

She judged people who cheated on their signficant others.

And now all she can think about is how much she wants Harry.

She was royally fucked and she knows it.

“Fine,” YN bites back, her guard completely up and she turns her back to him.

She can sense his hesitation before he’s cursing under his breathe and slamming the door on his way out.

They don’t talk about the lesson.

Not on the way home, not before bed, not the next day.

Arthur doesn’t try to initiate any type of power play when they have sex that night when they get home from playing.

YN doesn’t see a world where they’re going to go back to The Body Factory because the lack of interest from Arthur about domming was blatantly obvious in his actions following their arrival home.

YN notices Arthur being much more distant after that night, just for the following few days as he was much more quiet, reserved than he normally was, and overall seemed lost in his thoughts.

She starts to worry that this all was just such a poor idea, for both of them.

“What is going on?” YN finally asks one night while they sit at the dinner table, across from each other in silence leading up to this, “You’ve barely spoken to me all week. If it’s about what happened on Saturday night, just say it.”

Arthur puts down his fork and knife, wiping his mouth with his napkine before sighing, “I’m sorry, sweetie pie. There’s just been…a lot on my mind and a lot to process after this weekend.”

“You could have just talked to me about it. I thought we were supposed to have positive communication about all of this while we figured it out,” YN lets her fork clatter loudly, showing her irritation but to be fair, she was much more on edge later than normal.

“You’re right,” Arthur agrees, his expression is soft and apologetic like it always was, never wanting to argue, “I…I needed to figure some things out for myself and kind of…process. I worry that I’m going to upset you with what I want to talk about and I guess I was just trying to find the right time.”

YN braces herself for what she knows is coming, they’re not going back to that club, she’ll never see Harry again.

“Just say it, Arthur,” YN sighs, rubbing a hand over her eyes and she knows her shoulders have slumped slightly.

There’s a pause.

“I dont think I can be what you need, in terms of dominant,” Arthur’s voice is cautious, “But I discovered that I, uh, I liked watching you with Harry. Like….I really enjoyed it and have been thinking about it a lot.”

YN’s eyebrows raise to the ceiling.

That was not how she expected this conversation to go.

Harry asks YN and Arthur to come into the club on a weekday night to discuss what they are asking from him.

They weren’t able to get a hold of them and the secretary was able to set up an appointment to talk about their membership.

YN and Arthur are sat in his office, dark with the green undertones accented throughout the room, matte and deep oak wood.

The door opens behind them, YN feels herself tense and Arthur must feel it too because he gives her a reassuring squeeze on the hand he’s holding of hers.

“If you’re here to cancel your membership, you’re still charge for the entirety of the year. You already signed a contractual agreement,” Harry’s voice is disinterested, dull as he rounds his desk and sits down in front of them.

“No, that’s not why we asked for a meeting,” Arthur is a bit flustered, eyes darting away like he can’t quite look directly at Harry.

“I’m not interested in doing instructional sessions. It wasn’t a good match and I offered you other educators we have here.”

YN feels like it’s purposeful that Harry hasn’t made eye contact with her once when he typical couldn’t take his gaze off of her.

Arthur’s hand is clammy on hers, making her want to pull away but she was in all honesty feeling the nerves of this meeting too.

She didn’t know how she would handle a rejection from Harry.

Even though she knew there was a much higher likelihood that he would reject the proposition than accept.

Raven had given Arthur a bit of information last weekend when YN and Harry were along in in play room still.

She had told Arthur that Harry hadn’t had a sub in the eight years that he hadn’t played at his own club.

Raven wouldn’t disclose what happened that made him stop partcipating and only faciliating, as it obvious didn’t take his interest out of this world or his ability to be a good dominate.

This was a shot in the dark.

”I am busy. Let’s speed this up,” Harry makes a point of glancing down at the very-expensive looking gold watch on his wrist as if he has a meeting with the queen after this.

”Of course, my apologizes,” Arthur instantly responds, submissive without even realizing it, something that makes YN’s skin crawl, “After the instructional session last week. My fiancée and I discussed our thoughts and where we wanted to go from there.”

Harry just blinks at him, heavily like he’s losing interest.

”And er, I definitely realized that I don’t have the capacity to be what YN needs in that aspect nor is it really my interest. However, seeing YN act like….”

”A spoiled brat?” Harry fills in, running his tongue over the front of his teeth.

He was so intimidating, just by the way he held himself, shoulders broad, head held high to show off the defineition of his jawline, and his faux calm demeanor like nothing in this world bothers him.

Artuhur chuckles, squeezing YN’s hand again, “I was going to say that she was acting so differently, free, and yes, bratty. It was unlike anything I’ve seen from her before and I do not want to be the one to dull that light for her. However, I still want to experience it with her…from more of a onlooker perspective like last week.”

Again, cue a twitch of guilt because Arthur was a good guy and he cared about YN very much but it didn’t stop her from the craving for something from Harry as it should.

”There are plenty of open doms here or doms that will have more than one sub at a time,” Harry’s teeth are gritted now, it was subtle but YN notices that way his fingers are gripping a pen in his hand.

”That’s not what YN is interested in,” Arthur’s has seemed to calm down a little bit, his voice more conversational, “We talked about it extensively and the reason we are here is because we would specifically like you to consider being YN’s dominant. It’s something we’ve both discussed and both feel comfortable with. If it is something that you would think about.”

Harry cannot hide the surprise, his eyebrow raises before he’s steeling his expression again, giving Arthur a bored blink, and he doesn’t respond right away.

YN just wants him to fucking look at her.

“You put clearly in your paperwork that you are not interested in other partners,” Harry settles on stating after leaning back in his chair, hand dragging through his curls.

”Well, I discovered uh…” Arthur starts to become flush.

”It’s fine, Art,” YN finally says, patting his knee, “Everyone has something there. This is literally the place for it. What you like isn’t unusual.”

“I like watching YN with someone else,” Arthur admits, looking down at his hands and trying not to become even more embarrassed, “And I feel comfortable with her being with you. I trust that you would take good care of her but also give her what I cannot.”

Harry narrows his eyes, “You realize what you saw this past weekend was nothing in comparison to what actual scenes look like, right? You’re agreeing that you're open to me doing whatever I please with her, break her, and it won’t be pretty much of the time. At least to the outside onlooker…”

”I know, I’ve done my research recently,” Arthur nods, he starts twisting his wrists between his other fingers as he always did in an anxious habit.

”I cannot give you an answer tonight. It’s something that I will have to think about,” Harry decides, sitting up straighter and tugging at his suit jacket to adjust it.

”Are you going to even acknowledge my existence tonight?” YN blurts out because she cannot take it anymore, he won’t even make eye contact with her, and she knows it's purposeful.

“Did the kitty need attention? Can’t go a minute without it, huh?” Harry chuckles as he slowly rolls his gaze over to her, eyes finally glancing up and down her body before meeting her stare once again.

YN bites her lip, refusing to give into his teasing if this isn’t going to have the end result she wants because the fire building in her belly is already back with a vengeance.

“I just think you’re being rude,” YN shrugs defiantly, crossing her leg over the other and bouncing it like she was impatient to leave, giving him a reminder that he does want to play with her - he’s said it himself.

That fucking smile spreads on his face.

The one when he’s challenged and he knows he’s going to win.

”I think you’re being a greedy slut but I wasn’t going to say anything,” Harry’s voice sounds curiously fond, enamored by her, and it makes her preen at the unspoken praise of his reaction.

YN scowls but when Arthur touches her bouncing leg, it drags her out of any floatiness that she was going to drift to, and it was probably for the best anyways in this moment.

“I’ll have an answer for you by tomorrow,” Harry tells them, standing up and motioning towards the door, and Arthur thanks him more than once before starting to trail out.

As Arthur starts to head down the hallway, a hand reaches out and wraps around her wrist, stopping her for a moment, and causing her to look back at the person who grabbed it.

Harry’s eyes are back to the intensed, lock-in almost predatory stare.

”Do you think this is a good idea?” Harry asks quietly, so even though her fiancé is oblivious, he doesn’t hear.

”I can’t think of a better one,” YN responds honestly, “If I’m being selfish, yes. This is a good idea.”

“And if you’re actually thinking about your fiancé?” Harry prompts, eyebrow raised and truly questioning her.

”He liked watching,” YN acts like she doesn’t know what the underlying question that he’s asking is, “I think this is a good idea for both of us. We’re adults who are consenting and both talked this through at lengths.”

Harry nods, lip tucked under his teeth, worrying it until it’s puffy.

YN feels a pit of despair at his reaction, it didn’t seem positive, and it doesn’t seem like this is something he will agree to which he has every right to do but the feelings must flash across YN’s face.

”Hey,” Harry’s voice is softer, his thumb comes up to tug at her bottom lip, “Everything will be fine, okay? I’ll reach out tomorrow.”

”Okay,” YN sighs, leaning into his touch more than she hold because it was definetly inappropriate, “Just…please think about it.”

Harry nods, letting her go, and starting to close the door.

YN can’t be one hundred percent certain but she’s nearly confident that she heard Harry mutter something under his breath as he closed the door that sure sounded a lot like…

”Don’t think I’ll ever be able to say no to you. M’fucked.”

YN checks her phone all day during work.

Nothing from Harry.

It makes her even more anxious when she gets a text from Arthur saying that Harry reached out to him and would like to meet privately that night.

YN patiently waits for her confirmation of whether he’s on board or not but the text doesn’t come in until after Arthur’s stopped at the club after work and they talked.

YN realizes that it was all very intentional when at right near midnight sends a simple text.

Harry [11:59PM]: After talking to your fiancé, I’ve decided that I will agree to be your dominant. However, that is contingent on how our meeting goes.

Harry [12:00 AM]: When your shift is done tonight, meet me at the club. We will need to have a meeting to establish further boundaries, limits, and expectations.

Harry [12:01 AM]: Understood?

YN is tired and insanely happy which makes her feel rather pliant and sweet.

YN [12:03 AM]: Yes sir.

Harry [12:08 AM]: Good girl for me already? Get some rest, kitty. I will see you tomorrow.

YN sleeps like a fucking baby.

The club is surprisingly busy for a Thursday night.

YN’s shift was in the evening and when she walked into the club, there were people playing in the free play area - very much already into their scenes.

YN knew she didn’t look her absolute best.

She had changed out of her scrubs, into a flowy dress that had been easy to throw on, and purposefully forgoing a bra.

YN had taken her hair out of her claw clip, smudged on some tinted lip balm, and swiped on a coat of mascara hurriedly in the hospital locker room before making her way here.

It had been all she could think about all day and now that she’s in the darken, moody atmosphere it was feeling very real.

YN doesn’t see Harry monitoring the free play from his usual spot, in fact, he’s not in the main room at all.

YN decides to go over to the bar, always in the mood for a Shirley temple, reminding her of her childhood a bit.

Raven was there, as always, looking radiant and unbothered as she greets her happily, “Hey! It’s so great to see you again. I wasn’t sure if I was after last week's session. I swear Harry had been in an awful mood after that and it only got better once you and Arthur came in for a meeting.”

That was…interesting.

“Did he say anything?” YN can’t help but ask.

“Uh,” Raven’s eyes dart to the side, shifty and avoidant.

“No, no worries,” YN soothes easily, not meaning to put her on the spot, “It was an experience. It wasn’t what I -“

“Hello there, beautiful,” A deep voice interrupts their conversation, a hand brazenly sliding onto her bare shoulder.

It wasn’t Harry.

The man was attractive, above average but held no light to Harry.

He was muscular, in a way that wasn’t YN’s type.

His muscles were bulging, like they didn’t have enough room until his skin, and he was making it obvious that he was flexing his biceps.

“I just saw you walk in alone. God, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Your tits are -“ The man begins to compliment.

Raven snaps her fingers, making a motion across her lips to the man to be quiet.

However, someone clears their throat, and all three turn their heads to Harry who was now standing behind them with a displeased frown.

“Hands off of her,” Harry murmurs, his voice is level, non-aggressive but still incredibly domineering that it wasn’t a recommendation.

It was an order.

The man removes his hand like he’d been burned, stepping back, and instantly apologizing the owner, “I-I didn’t know-“

Harry ignores him, glancing at Raven, “From here on out, please inform the guests that my submissive is off-fucking limits. Clear?”

“Yes,” Raven agrees with wide eyes.

The possessiveness as he puts his hand on her lower back was quite possibly the hottest thing that YN had experienced in her life.

The man disappears back into the group but is clearly passing on the message, whispered surprise as Harry guides her towards his office.

YN can hear bits and pieces of hushed conversation.

“What do you mean that’s his submissive?”

“He’s never once done that before. When he used to play, nearly a decade ago, he always shared his submissive.” “He must be down bad for her.”

“I tried to get him for ages to play with me. She’s been here once.”

“Well yeah but look at her.”

That’s all she can gather before they’re out of earshot.

“You’re off limits. They won’t bother you again,” Harry assures her as he guides her into his office, motioning to a seat before walking to his desk.

YN nodded, her heart was pounding, and she had definitely lost a bit of bravery.

Harry opens a folder, YN notices her handwriting, and realizes it’s all of the questionnaires and paperwork.

“This paperwork is fine for casual play but we need to establish more before I feel comfortable getting started,” Harry tells her as his eyes trace over the information.

“Your hard limits…” Harry trails off as he skims, “We have a few similar ones. Neither of us are into body fluid play other than come. As well as we both do not like temperature play, well hot wax in particular.”

“Allergic reaction made my bum cheek swell up like I got stung by fifty bees,” YN smiles shyly, it was so nerve-wracking, she was intimidated and he wasn’t even trying at that moment.

Harry lets out a laugh, a genuine one, a sound she hasn’t heard before and it was beautiful like the rest of him.

“I also had an allergic reaction. I thought my cock was going to be permanently damaged,” Harry’s smile is softer, the dimple still appearing.

“I still have a scar on my ass,” YN giggles, he’d find it soon enough but now he knows why she has it.

“Any other limits not mentioned?”

“No, I mean I haven’t tried everything but those things are definite no-gos,” YN tells him, her nails digging into her thighs unconsciously almost.

“And we will find out other things you don’t like along the way. Hopefully, we find more things that you enjoy,” Harry's voice is gentle, like he can sense her nervousness and is trying to ease it.

“Things you know you like,” Harry prompts, looking back down towards her papers.

“I like to be a…brat as you know. I really love the dynamic of pushing and pushing until I give in. I love making my dom frustrated and annoyed. However, if the aftercare isn’t sweet and extremely gentle than it ruins the experience for me.”

The smile had naturally faded off if his face, eyes intent on her, “You want me to wear you down? Until you’re crying for me to be nice to you but even then I’ll give you more. After we wrap up, you want praise, compliments, and affection.”

YN nods in agreement, “Exactly.”

“Was this what your previous dom gave you?”

“Sorta? We were younger and he was still really learning. He wasn’t as mean as I wanted but he struggled with that part. He was definitely a softer dom than what I wanted. He could only handle so much of me being a brat, it was a fine line because he would start to actually get angry with me and it was hard for me to tell. I never fully felt like I was able to push as much as I wanted.”

“You will be able to push as far as you want with me. If you think you can go hard, I promise you I will give it back a hundred times worse,” Harry's words are threatening but she knows he’ll make good on it.

“We’ll see,” YN pokes the side of her cheek with her tongue in an act of indifference

Harry glances at her from under his eyelashes, gaze darting down to her chest for a moment before her lips then her eyes again.

YN knows her nipples are outlined against the thin fabric, ready to be played with, and teasing right in front him.

“As for Arthur,” Harry’s voice gets serious again, “I already laid out to him all of his rules and expectations. I do not share in scene.”

“I heard other members saying you did share your submissives,” YN isn’t arguing, just curious.

Harry pauses, lip twitching before blinking slowly and very distinctly says, “I will not share you in a scene. Is that an issue?”

“No, I don’t want that either. I just didn’t know what made me different,�� YN responds, picking at her thumb on her lap.

“A lot of things make you different,” Harry replies cryptically, he doesn’t elaborate nor does YN ask because he continues speaking.

“He will not participate. He will not speak. And he will leave the room when I’m providing aftercare,” Harry tells her firmly, fingers drumming against the dark cherry oak.

“And he was okay with that?”

“He was hesitant at first but aftercare is very important to provide. I should be the one taking care of you afterwards, at least immediately afterwards, and I take it very seriously.”

“That all sounds fine.”

YN has to bite back saying ‘can you ask Arthur not to be in the room at all?’

“We will meet every Saturday night. At the start of hours. You will not socialize with others nor will you participate in free play. You will be fully dressed at all times in front of other members.”

YN tilts her head, leaning forward just the slightest so she knows there’s a gap in her top, flashing him his first sight of her breasts.

“Yes sir.”

Harry’s fingers roll tightly into a fist, exactly how she would hope he would have responded.

“I cannot wait to make you cry like the little disobident brat you are, fuckin’ starving for anything I’ll give you,” Harry tells her, voice dropping noticeably lower.

“I’ve been good all night. I’ve said sir,” YN makes sure to sound as innocent as possible, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

It’s crossing a boundary, surely.

Arthur isn’t here.

YN cannot find it in her to care.

“Then I guess our scenes will be mild, boring,” Harry shrugs, his cadence going slower, deeper into his accent, “Shame.”

He stands up, taking his time to round the desk, and reaches out his hand, “I will walk you out.”

YN raises her eyebrow, “In a minute. My legs are sore from running around all day.”

She gets the perfect response.

Frustration.

Harry’s jaw shifts under his skin, teeth together, and nostrils flaring, “Get the fuck up.”

“Jesus, someone has an attitude,” YN mutters under her breath but obviously loud enough that Harry would be able to hear her clear as day.

She pushes herself out of the seat and turns towards the door, the opposite side of where Harry is standing to bypass him.

As she walks towards the exit, a hand reaches from behind her, his chest suddenly flush against her back, and a hand cupping the sides of her neck.

He pulls her back into him with enough force that it knocks the wind out of her for a moment and she squeals in surprise, airway suddenly restricted slightly.

“You’re cute when you’re brave, kitty,” Harry whispers in her ear, teeth grazing her lone, and he bites her - enough to sting, “I’ll show you a fucking attitude. One you’ve never seen.”

His fingers tighten for a moment and YN doesn’t think before she’s pressing her bum back into the cradle of his hips.

He was thick, unsurprisingly big from what she could feel, and she was craving that inside her as soon as possible.

YN reaches for the hand on her throat and surprisingly, Harry lets her move if, down over her collarbones, down over her sternum, and guides him right to her chest.

Over the fabric, Harry finds her hard nipple with ease, and gives her the hardest tweak she’d ever experienced, gasping as she grinds backwards.

“Enough.”

Harry suddenly takes his hand, his body away, and is standing at a distance.

He shakes his head, “We can’t be doing things like this. You know that.”

YN bites her bottom lip, she knows why, and she knows Harry is just trying to respect her fiancé even when she can’t.

“Yeah,” YN agrees, trying to stop the tightness because she’s in over her head, how can she only have him once a week.

Why was she so fucking in to him when she barely knows him?

When she’s fucking engaged, with a date, a ring, and her father’s blessing to be wed.

YN crosses her arms over her chest, embarrassed because she almost feels like she’s being scolded for her actions.

As she should be.

His hand comes to her neck, cupping it gently this time as he sighs, shaking his head solemnly before their eyes meet, “This isn’t a good idea.”

YN’s heart rate spikes.

“You’re going to destroy me, aren’t you?”

And the way he says it isn’t teasing but isn’t accusatory either.

It’s like it’s a fact.

“I’ll try not to,” YN peeps up, swallowing harshly.

Harry laughs wistfully, thumbing over the center of her throat before stepping back, “S’a bit too late now, kitty.” ++

Friday cannot come quick enough.

YN is excited enough that the buzzing in her veins feels electric.

YN had sent Harry a picture earlier in the day of a hot pink lingerie set and then simpler black one next to it.

YN [11:03AM]: which one, sir? [photo attachment]

Harry [12:34PM]: It doesn’t matter. You’re stripping the minute you’re in the room.

Harry [1:01PM]: I am very rarely spontaneous. I have had this night planned since I first sat you in the club that first night.

YN [1:02PM]: when you were playing candy crush on your phone?

Harry [1:03PM]: I wasn’t playing candy crush. I was reviewing your file virtually to see if you were available for open play.

YN[1:04PM]: i thought you didn’t play in your club anymore

Harry[1:04PM]: I haven’t in nearly a decade.

YN’s hands were shaking, excitement, confusion, and curiosity.

YN[1:06PM]: what would you have done if i had been available?

Harry[1:13PM]: I would have fucked you so well that you wouldn’t have wanted to even look in your fiancé’s direction ever again. That you would have chased after me like a puppy after that instead of it being obvious how much I wanted you.

Harry[1:13PM]: I wanted you to only be able to think of me every time you slept with your fiancé.

Harry[1:14PM]: I’ve never been a possessive man but something in you has sparked it for me. I typically share without a problem. The one time I actually have to share, it’s going to be a struggle. I’m willing to try.

YN felt that Harry was actually being vulnerable with her for the first time and she didn’t know what all of this meant. There is warning signs that YN is blatantly ignoring because he just fed her everything she’d wanted to hear.

YN[1:23PM]: thank you for trying

Harry [1:39PM]: I will see you tonight, sweet girl.

Sweet girl.

It felt different than the sweetie pie that Arthur went with, a nickname that she never had liked but didn’t have the heart to tell him.

YN may have reread their texts a few times as she got ready for the night.

She was going to have to meet Arthur there as he was coming from a work dinner.

Arthur meets her outside the club, giving her a firm kiss which takes her by surprise, he murmurs, “I cannot wait to see you tonight in there.”

YN rubs his shoulder, stiff when he kisses at her neck, and grips her hip.

“We should probably go in,” YN whispers back, stepping out of his hold to motion towards the door.

“Okay, sweetie,” Arthur smiles brightly, oblivious to any tension that YN’s holding in her body as he keeps his hand on her waist and follows her in.

YN had forgotten to tell Arthur about the rule that Harry did not want her interacting with other members before a scene.

And Harry clearly hadn’t communicated that with him because when they walk through the free play room doors, he guides them towards a group.

Arthur had made friends with a few people and they wave at them when they walk in, encouraging them to come chat.

YN feels herself start to panic slightly, this wasn’t good, off the bat she wasn’t following instructions and she needed to speak up.

“Hey guys!” Arthur greets as he pulls her with him into the circle of people.

“No, Art. I can’t -“ YN starts to frantically whisper into his ear as his brows twist downward in confusion.

Suddenly, everyone in the group goes wide-eyed, and YN has a sinking feeling that she knows exactly why.

A hand wraps around her throat, similar to the other day, and applies practiced pressure on the sides where her blood flows as he yanks her backwards into his chest.

His lips to her ear and it’s not necessarily what he says but it’s the tone.

It’s the dominance, the aggression, and something about it seems borderline primal, rasp and deep as he speaks carefully.

“If you think this is going to work in your favor, you’re very fucking wrong,” Harry warns with another squeeze, firmer this time.

Everyone around them is quiet.

They’re almost in shock.

And YN knows it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with Harry being openly dominant when he hasn’t in nearly a decade.

Harry must look towards the crowd, “My stupid lil’ kitty seemed to forget her rules already. You are not to interact with her prior or during play hours. Afterwards, it is fine. However, she is off-limits in every fucking sense. Understood?”

“Yes.”

All in unison.

Harry doesn’t acknowledge Arthur’s existence.

The hand on her neck was possession, ownership, and making sure everyone knew that YN was his to play with only.

“Sir, I-“ YN begins to try to speak when he lets up slightly.

Harry leans back toward her ear, his voice noticeably softer and quiet enough no one else can hear, “Hush. No play in front of others, remember? S’just for us. Now let’s go.”

YN closes her mouth and nods, eyes downward to avoid making eye contact with anyone who was watching.

Harry releases his grip, hand coming to intertwine their fingers which seems like such a stark contrast from where he’d been applying pressure to her airways.

It’s a quiet trek down the hallway, YN keeps her head down even when Arthur exchanges pleasantries with Raven.

Once they’re in the room, YN feels like she’s quivering in a mixture of fear of the unknown and anticipated excitement.

Arthur goes to the chair in the far corner without prompting, silent as he should be.

YN doesn’t plan to look at him at all.

Imagining it’s just her and her dom.

Harry is hers.

Atleast on Fridays.

“Do you have any questions before we begin?” Harry rasps lowly, stepping in front of her and studying her face.

YN shakes her head.

“Speak the fuck up,” Harry’s voice is substantially louder, meaner, and his whole expression has changed into something darker, malicious.

“No,” YN shakes her head again, biting back with a little attitude.

The same smile, deviant and enthralled with her response spreads on his face, dimples carving into his cheeks.

“Then let’s start,” Harry rumbles as he steps back even further, sitting on the bench, “Strip. Everything off.” + 👀 please let me know your thoughts! They make my day

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles one shot

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sanguineterrain · 8 months

Note

Hey I saw you're still taking requests... what about a batman x reader where the justice league meets his wife (the reader) by accident? And maybe they're shocked because he's so secretive and she's really sweet and just the total opposite of him. Feel free to ignore if this doesn't sound interesting to you. I love your writing 💗

Hey! I love this prompt, thanks for sending it in :) I made the reader gender neutral, I hope that's okay!

Bruce Wayne x spouse!gn!reader. No warnings, just Bruce being a little shit (and a sweet hubby).

****

You press your palm to the reader at the entrance of the Cave and jog down the stairs, talking all the way.

"Honey, Alfred and I are going to..."

Six superhero faces stare back at you. Bruce is in the cowl, expression hard to parse. Your brows rise.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't know B had company. I'll leave you to it," you say, beginning to back up the stairs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," says Green Lantern. You can't tell through the mask lenses, but you think he might be zeroed in on the ring on your left hand. "Uh, Spooky? Something you wanna tell us?"

You freeze on the steps. Bruce looks at you, then crosses the Cave in a few long strides. He stops next to you.

Sorry, you mouth at him. He shakes his head and reaches out to squeeze your hand.

"Hold the fucking phone," Green Arrow begins. "You're his—"

"Partner," Wonder Woman says instantly. She sounds pensive. "I have never seen you look at anyone like that, Bruce."

Bruce doesn't say anything, not that you expect him to. You feel him tense.

He'd been content to keep his family as private as possible, and you hadn't minded being kept separate. You know it's out of extreme protectiveness and the fact that you're the only one of the Wayne family who doesn't put a suit on and fight crime.

There's a moment of silence as the League studies you, then Bruce. You smile slowly and wave.

"Hi, Justice League. Nice to meet you all."

"Hello," says the Martian Manhunter, who's probably known about you since you entered Wayne Manor.

"You got married without telling us?" Superman sounds hurt.

Bruce heaves a sigh.

"We got married during the League's infancy. Please spare me the theatrics. Of course I didn't tell you."

"We revealed our identities two years ago!" Superman argues. "You didn't want to mention you have a spouse?"

Superman nods at you then. "Uh, of course, it's still very nice to meet you."

You smile. "It's nice to meet you too, Superman."

"Clark," he corrects hastily. Then he turns to Bruce again, upset flaring. "Bruce—"

"You're upset over nothing," Bruce says. "We weren't close when I got married, and I never found it a pertinent detail."

You roll your eyes.

"B," you say, nudging his shoulder. "C'mon. Try to be a little gentler about this, hm?"

Bruce looks at you. You smile at him and squeeze his wrist encouragingly. He eventually turns back to the League.

"Very well, you're right. Clark, that was harsh of me. My apologies."

The League startles.

"Whoa. Rewind. Hold up. Did Spooky just apologize?" Green Lantern asks. "Did I just get zeta'd?"

Bruce sighs. You stifle a laugh and kiss his bicep. His hand slips to your back.

"Aw, you guys are cute," Flash says jovially. "Congrats, B! Even if it's been almost six years."

Bruce nods. "Thank you, Allen."

"It is incredible how the better half can transform the other," says Wonder Woman, and you preen a little at the compliment.

Clark looks flabbergasted. It takes him a second to speak again.

"Um. That's... okay, Bruce. I forgive you. I suppose you did it out of protection, right?"

"I'm just a boring ol' civilian," you say, nodding. "No powers or years of Krav Maga training here. B worries."

"You're not boring," Bruce says fiercely, quiet enough for only you to hear... and Clark, who has superhearing, and who softens at the statement.

"This is so weird," Green Lantern says, and Bruce glares at him.

"I mean, it's sweet!" he hastily adds. "Uh, you guys are very sweet together, like Bar said. I just feel like I've been mind controlled or something."

"If it was mind control, you wouldn't still be talking," Bruce says flatly.

"Okay, alright, point taken. Shutting up. It's very nice to meet you, though," Green Lantern says to you.

"You as well," you say warmly. "All of you. I want to thank you for looking out for him all these years and bringing him home safe."

Wonder Woman smiles at you. "It is a great honor to fight alongside him. And we are happy he has someone to come home to."

"Seconded," Clark says. "You deserve someone special, B. And I can tell they're just that."

Your face feels warm under all the praise. Bruce is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks again, there's a slight tremor in his voice.

"Thank you. I—they are the best thing to ever happen to me."

You have to kiss Bruce for that, cowl be damned. He meets you gently, and you keep it short but full of love. Flash aww's.

"Well," you say, laughing bashfully. "I suppose I'll let you all get back to work. Nice to meet you. Goodbye. Bruce, I'm going out with Alfred."

Bruce nods. "Call me when you get home."

"'Course, sweetheart. I always do."

You head up the stairs. Flash starts to speak.

"Y'know, I told you all when I got married," he says. "You guys were the first people I told! We didn't even know Clark's identity then. I think you could've loosened the reins, Bruce."

"Yeah, no. You telling a bunch of superhero co-workers is infinitely stranger than Bruce never telling us, Bar."

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x gender neutral reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman x you #batman x reader #batman fanfiction #batman x yn #inbox #blurb

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

My birthday is in like 2 weekd (the 13th) so I just wanted to make a quick request before I forget :)

Can you write a poly!marauder x reader when it’s readers birthday and she doesn’t have enough time to celebrate so they throw her a surprise party at like midnight?

Hi lovely! Hope I timed this right with the time zones and all, but if I did, happy birthday! Hope you're enjoying it despite your time constraints :)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 718 words

When you get home from your shift, your hair is greasy, your feet are sore, and you’d normally be ready to collapse into bed but tonight you’re buzzing with excitement despite the late hour.

The thing is, you’re a birthday person. It’d be easier if you weren’t, because unlike some of your friends who get to celebrate on school breaks or take time off work, you were born smack in the middle of nearly the busiest time of the year. It’s almost like it was prophetic; you were predestined to be in a rush before you’d even left the womb.

Still, you’re excited for the little things you do get to do to celebrate. James is baking you a cake, and thought you don’t have time for anything on the actual day—tomorrow—you’ll probably go out for a small belated birthday dinner next weekend. It’s not everything you could ever want and more, but it’s what you can do, and it’ll still be fun.

The house is quieter than you’d expect as you shuck off your shoes. Normally at least Sirius would still be up, but you suppose it is pretty late. Your boyfriends were undoubtedly tired from their own days at work. You shrug off your coat, and suddenly every light in the house is turned on.

“Surprise!” The collective shout nearly knocks you over, but James appears behind you, laughing as he steadies you by the waist.

“Whoa, babe, did we getcha?” he asks.

“I—what?” You shake your head, gawping at your friends, who have materialized all around your living room. “What are you all doing here?”

“Oh, don’t play coy,” Sirius says, coming over to secure a party hat on your head. “We all know you haven’t forgotten your own birthday.”

“But—I—it’s tomorrow,” you stammer helplessly, getting past your shock but unable to accept that this is really happening. It’s too good to be true.

“Not anymore.” He rolls his eyes at you, but his touch is fond as he adjusts the strap of the hat under your chin, knuckle brushing your cheek. “It’s past midnight, babydoll.”

“You’re old now,” Marlene says, holding a plastic cup up as if toasting to the fact.

Sirius hums, peering closer at your face. “She’s right. I think I see wrinkles.”

Your laugh comes loud and sharp, and James’ arms snake around your waist, drawing you back into him. “Oi, leave the birthday girl alone,” he objects.

“We’re all younger than you, Pads,” Remus reminds him, coming from over by the kitchen to bring you a drink. You take it with a smile, and he pecks you on the cheek. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” You beam, feeling blood rush to your cheeks at all the attention. “Thanks for doing this, you guys, this is…just, beyond nice of you.”

“It’s no problem.” James gives your middle a squeeze. “Figured if we couldn’t do anything during the day, a midnight celebration was the way to go, you know?”

“Oh, don’t take all the credit for yourself,” Sirius argues, pinching at James’ side so he yelps and covers his body with yours. “All he did was make the cake, Moony and I did everything else.”

“And by Moony and I, he means that he picked out what he wanted and I made it happen,” Remus says drily, though the look he gives you is soft as mush. “I’m glad you like it, though, lovely girl.”

“I really do,” you say, cheeks hurting from the force of your smile. “Thank you so much.”

Remus smiles, and James rests his chin on your shoulder, fondness oozing from all three of your boyfriends.

“Alright,” Lily says, “if you guys wanted y/n to yourselves, you shouldn’t have invited the rest of us.”

“Hear hear!” Marlene hoists her cup up, liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. You think you see Remus wince for your couch. “Shall we have cake and sing?”

“Absolutely!” James declares, hands sliding to your hips for one good squeeze before he releases you, heading into the kitchen. “Wait until you all see my masterpiece. This is what I should have done for a living.”

“You’ll want to prepare yourself, gorgeous,” Sirius whispers to you. “I saw it in the fridge earlier. It’s a monstrosity.”

“Be nice,” Remus murmurs. “He tried his best.”

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athanza · 2 months

Text

Starlett - Part 3

Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)

Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, some fluff

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence

This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Final part

2296

Suddenly Irene looked unsteady and she held a hand to the wound on her side.

"Fancy seein' you here." She chuckled painfully.

"I know, I haven't changed a bit."

She laughed but immediately regretted it, groaning in pain.

"You uh," she said, blood dripping down her leg. "you wouldn't happen to have a stimpak on you would ya? I'm uh...I'm not feelin' too hot."

He looked her over, the gash was deep, she'd need more than one stimpak. "Unfortunately I don't think I do."

Suddenly her legs gave out from underneath her and she collapsed.

"Whoa." He said, catching her before she hit the ground.

Irene woke up hours later, lying on her back in what looked like a small cave, her head resting on a saddle bag.

She didn't look any different than she did before the war, albeit a little dishevelled, Cooper figured that however Moldaver survived must've been how she did.

"Coop." Irene croaked.

He looked up from cleaning his revolver and saw her try to move.

"Easy there Starlett, you're pretty banged up."

She winced in pain again and lay back down. "I thought you were dead." She said, weak from the blood loss.

"I should be. So should you."

"Fate had other plans I guess."

Cooper scoffed quietly. She didn't press it, even though she wanted to know if Janey made it.

"You're gonna need some proper medical attention." He said. "Ain't much out here though."

"Eh, it's just a scratch." She joked, swallowing a mouth-full of blood.

Cooper got up and handed her a flask of water, half empty. She took a few sips and handed it back.

"I'm lookin' for Lee, you know where I can find 'er?

"I've been looking for her myself, I'm afraid I can't help you there, I've found nothing but dead ends. The bitch is hard to find even in a fucking desert."

He smiled a little at the very different tone coming out of her mouth than he remembered; she must've been in the wasteland for a little while, at least.

"I'm glad I found you cowboy. You're about the only fond memory I've got left. I needed that right about now."

"I'm not the man you remember."

"Doesn't matter. You've reminded me of something I haven't seen in years."

"And what's that?"

"Kindness."

2077

The doorbell rang and Cooper opened it to find Irene looking remarkably understated compared to her shows, but she still had that aire of grace that she always carried with her no matter where she was.

"Come on in." He smiled, stepping aside for her.

"I can't thank you enough for letting me stay, I know its a lot of ask of someone you just met."

"It's the least I can do."

He closed the door and took her suitcase for her.

Janey appeared with Roosevelt, having been playing in the backyard and Cooper gestured to her.

"Irene, this is my daughter Janey. Janey this is Irene, the friend from work I was telling you about."

"Irene Taylor!?" She said, her eyes sparkling. "I've seen you on TV! Your voice is sooo beautiful! You definitely should have won the award on last month's show."

Irene and Cooper both laughed.

"Looks like you have a fan."

"That's very kind of you." Irene smiled sweetly.

"Janey, why don't you watch some cartoons while I show Irene to her room?"

"Ok." She beamed and sat down with Roosevelt in front of the TV.

Irene followed Cooper to the back of the house where the guest room was and looked at all the family photos as they walked through. Wedding photos, Janey's baby photos, a puppy photo of Roosevelt. When they finally reached the room she felt even more uncomfortable.

"This is you." He said, placing her suitcase on the bed.

"I'm so sorry to put you in this position Mr. Howard, I do appreciate it very much. I didn't know who else to come to."

"Don't worry about it." He smiled warmly. "I'm just glad you decided to leave."

"So am I. You made me realise the cause wasn't worth the abuse, no matter how much I told myself it was. Lee won't be happy but it'll be worth it in the end."

"I'm sure it will."

She smiled softly at him. "I'll let you get back to your daughter. You'll barely know I'm here."

"Nonsense," he said. "You're joining us for dinner, plus I'm sure Janey would love to spend some time with you."

She got choked up a bit at that. Everything she had done since getting into show business had been for other people, someone doing something like this for her was something special.

"Thank you Mr. Howard."

"Cooper." He replied.

2296

Irene lay sleeping and Cooper sat wondering what to do with her.

He couldn't spare any resources, and he didn't need stimpaks, so he had none. Could he carry her to Filly and get her to a doctor? Sure, but that was in the opposite direction of where he was headed, where they were both headed.

It would be more humane to shoot her now to save her the pain, but he couldn't bring himself to do it and it angered him.

"Fuck." He said, getting to his feet and picking up his gun, walking out of the cave in search of supplies.

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muniimyg · 9 months

Text

SAUDADE // JJK

once found, now lost; it’s a love that lingers and struggles to find closure

jungkook and oc attempt to be friends after a break-up

navi | m. list | ask me ! |

pairing: (somewhat) badboy jk + oc

au/genre:

post-break up au

one shot

angst, smut, vibes...

warnings:

mentions of blood, drinking, smoking, and drunk driving

smut ! creampie !

self loathing / bad habits

miscommunication

note: dedicated to @joonsjuice because she flew to meet me & all we did was laugh abt my fics 😭 my biggest fan frfr … i promised her i’d write so… surprise !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @heem145 @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns

Tonight was no different from the other nights Jungkook would waste away.

At least, it began like a regular Friday night party. It was the usual routine of getting high as he made his way to the party, some beer pong, and downing some shots of hard liquor, before stepping out to take a cigarette break. Soon, the night would be a blur and a pain in the ass of a headache to deal with the following morning.

Except, tonight, the people Jungkook usually ignores were extra irritating. So irritating that one guy came up to him mid-puff and asked; “are you still fucking ___? Heard she dumped you and shit, so she’s up for grabs right? She’s here tonight and I heard that she was a virgin before she met you… My guy, did you fuck her out or is her pussy the type to be just as tight as it was when you first fucked her?”

It’s no surprise what happens next.

A little cussing, a little shoving, and a little punch here and there… Suddenly turned into a full-blown fight with other people intervening and pulling Jungkook’s body off the imbecile.

That brings him here.

Jungkook struggles to fit his keys into his apartment locks and stumbles his way to his bathroom. There, runs a shower and steps in. He cleans himself, scrubbing the smell of his vices away. Blankly, he watches as the blood from his hands drips down and goes down the drain. When he finishes, he turns the water off and dries himself. Yet, his knuckles continue to bleed and for a split second, he sees how deep the cut is. His knuckles are absolutely busted. He wipes his foggy mirror and sighs at the sight of his face.

His lip is also busted. His eyebrow piercing is messed up and his eye will probably bruise up by morning. Honestly, he didn’t lose the fight.. But, it sure came with a cost.

Perhaps his adrenaline begins to wear off because his injuries begin to hurt like a bitch. He rummages through his cabinets and hisses, “fucking shit.”

He had no bandaids.

He barely has any ointments to tend to his wounds.

Jungkook winces at the pain as he runs water over his bloody knuckles. He’s been in fights before and even injured his hand a few months ago, but for some reason, this pain hits differently. It aches, it throbs, it feels like it’ll probably scar.

This stresses him out.

If the physical pain wasn’t bad enough, suddenly a million and one thoughts were flooding in and his heartbeat instantly begins to race. He could feel all his emotions come up and it made him nauseous. His head was spinning and before he knew it; his heart was beginning to ache.

He was truly hurting.

He had been thinking of you nonstop these days. It’s not like he ever got over the break-up—how could he? It’s only been three months since you. You two had been together for almost two years at that. How could he suddenly just be okay after three months of no you? If anything, he was only beginning to process the absence of you.

It’s not like he cared if you were at this party or not. If anything, he was happy to know you were around him. Even if you’d probably ignore him or offer him a generic greeting; he’d take it. It didn’t bother him that you were here… What bothered him was the mere idea of you taking one step closer, one fingertip brushing against his as you two bump into each other in the crowd; one moment. One mere second where you’d look at him a little longer than you should. One mere second where you’d smile at him the same way as you used to and then it’d be over.

He’d fall down to his knees and do it.

He’d beg for you.

He’d make promises, fully knowing he’d probably break them within the week. He’d cry and then he’d loathe himself for the rest of his life.

And loathe himself he does the minute he hears a knock on his door.

Quickly, he puts on his grey sweats and makes his way to answer. Without much thought, he swings the door open and it reveals a barefoot you.

“I figured you wouldn’t have any bandaids,” you hold out a plastic bag filled with First Aid materials. “We threw them out, remember? Because you promised me you wouldn’t get into fights and get hurt.”

“Where are your shoes?”

“M-my shoes? Oh. I had heels on. I think I left them at the pharmacy. I ran here.”

Jungkook sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets. He hangs his head low and mumbles, “I’m sorry.”

“I knew you were a bad boyfriend,” you choke, trying your best to keep it together. “But you didn’t need to break your promise.”

He looks up and is instantly wrapping his arms around you as you bury yourself in his chest. In between light sobs, you curl your fists and hit him. “I hate you.”

“I know.”

“I hate you so much,” you utter with as much annoyance as you can. “I really hate you, Jungkook.”

“I know, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby.”

“I—okay. Whatever you want.”

You take a deep breath and lift your head. You sniff as let him wipe your tears with his thumb. Swiftly, you take hold of his wrist and analyze his hands.

“I’m okay,” Jungkook promises. “It’s not that bad. Might need stitches but I’ll just go tomorrow morning. It’s kinda late.”

You roll your eyes at him. It’s just like him to neglect his health and well-being. “Hospitals are 24/7, Jungkook.”

“Yeah, but you’re here.”

A beat.

“So what?”

“You brought me bandaids.”

It feels weird being in Jungkook’s bathroom again.

All you can think about are all the times you two stood side by side, brushing your teeth. How you’d flush the toilet while he was showering or how he’d barge in while you were taking yours. The slow morning back-hugs and the irritating haste of running late to plans.. It’s all in here. It all happened here as silly as it sounds.

Though it’s only been three months, it’s a bit painful to be sitting on the floor with him and patching him up as if the bandaids were going to fix anything. His cuts ran deep and the bandaids only covered the damage. Yet, you two sit there in silence and pretend like this is a solution. Like sticking bandaids on a wound that clearly needs stitches wasn’t an excuse to just be with him again.

“This isn’t the you I know,” you comment, half-heartedly trying to pick a fight.

“It’s the me I’ve always been. I mean, isn’t this why you broke up with me?”

“No,” you shake your head in disagreement with his vile words.

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheeks. “I’m sorry for bringing so much shit in your life.”

“You didn’t,” you reassure him. “You don’t.”

You don’t say anything further. Could you even? The situation is already as horrible as it can be. Now, it has this awkward yet intimate pull on you. It just burns. If anything, you want to say it. You want to spit it all out and tell him everything.

Tell him that you broke up with him because you would’ve stayed through it all. You would’ve bailed him out of every charge pressed against him. You would’ve forgiven him every time he forgot a important date. You would’ve gotten into the car even if you knew he had been drinking. You would’ve skipped every morning class to sleep in with him. You would’ve loved him more than your own life and that horrified you.

Nonetheless, he was always good to you. You just wish he was good to himself. Though you believe him when he told you he loved you; you couldn’t wait for him to change. As much as you love him as he was—the essence of youth, anticipation, and longing he carried soon turned into a mess of anger and fuck ups.

But how could you ever think that as he sits in front of you, hurting, and still completely in love with you?

Jungkook breaks the silence. “Thank you… For this.”

“Don’t thank me,” you say sternly. Peeling another bandaid and eyeing it to perfectly cover his wound, you encourage him; “just do better.”

“I’m trying,” he says softly.

Your heart sinks.

“I know,” you take out an ointment and squeeze a bit on a q tip. Tilting his face, you reach up and apply the medicine to the cuts on his face. “I believe you.”

It’s the truth.

You do.

Jungkook can’t help himself.

He wraps his hands on your wrist, causing you to pause. There’s a look in his eyes—the kind that makes your heart feel utter heartbreak and relief at the same time. It’s devastating… To love someone and want them so bad that it hurts.

“J-Jungkook… Don’t,” you croak, trying your best to keep it together. “Don’t ruin this.”

“Ruin what?”

You push away. “This. I’m trying to be a friend, Jungkook. Don’t make it any more than it is. We broke up—”

“You dumped me,” he corrects you. “When did I ever say I didn’t want to be with you?”

“Jungkook—”

“Please, ___, I’m sorry. Believe me when I say that, okay?” He begs, bringing your hands to cup his face. “I can’t do this anymore. I hate not being with you.”

Your eyes tear up and your walls come crashing down. You hate the way he sounds right now. His voice sounds so desperate and honest. You’ve never heard it sound like this before.. Even when you dumped him, he was silent. This… This is new.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admit. “Why are you sorry? How did it get this way?” It’s the most painful thing you’ve managed to say to him tonight. Your heart continues to break as his breath hitches.

“I’m no good for heartache, baby.”

Your mind spins.

Your stomach feels like it’s just been hit with a gust of wind so strong that you’ve lost all the words and thoughts you gathered before coming over. It’s like every reason you made up on your way here is just being tossed out the window.

“You’re the only thing that ever made sense to me.”

Then, it hits.

You remember exactly why you stayed for so long. Regardless of how much the break-up needed to be done, the truth remains; you and Jungkook have always understood each other. In any language and in any universe, that’s the most romantic feeling to ever encounter. To have the privilege of loving someone and understanding them runs deeper than any cut.

You two stay silent for a moment, trying to process and convince yourselves to take your words back. Anything. Take anything back.

But your attempt fails.

Self-betrayal takes place as you lean in and close your eyes. Jungkook dips his head low and kisses you. Little drops of water fall down the side of your face because of Jungkook’s wet hair. Honestly, if someone had told you it was your tears; you’d believe them. At this point, did it really matter?

For the first time in three months, Jungkook feels at ease.

His sheets still smell the same. They feel the same too. Soft, clean, and just so him.

At first, Jungkook attempts to take charge. Just like before, he had you lie down to take care of you. Unfortunately for him, because of his condition, he wasn’t able to do much. Instead, he hovered on top and took his time kissing you. His hands wandered around your body, ultimately settling for the spot in between your neck and cheeks.

Your hands traveled down inside his pants.

“Calvin Klein boxers are still by far the hottest look on you,” you claim in between kisses. He smiles into the kiss and mumbles; “yeah, yeah.”

You laugh as he attempts to slip his fingers down your panties. He hisses in pain and groans. “I fucking hate this.”

“Oh? I can go—”

“Shut up.”

“Meanie.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “I’m literally trying to get you off and you’re insisting on leaving. Do you resent me that much?”

Shaking your head, you digress. “I don’t resent you.”

He kisses you in response. As he sinks into it, you put your hands on his waist and catch him off guard. You shift your weight and bring yourself on top of him. Making yourself comfortable, you roll your hips on top of his bulge and lift your arms. He sits up halfway and helps you take off your shirt. Without hesitating, he unclasps your bra and wraps his arms around you. He brings you down and kisses you so deeply. Slipping his tongue in and even biting your bottom lip as he breaks away for air. With as much strength as he can, he feels around your breast.

God, this was the worst fucking time to have busted hands.

“It’s okay,” you tell him as you take his hands off your breasts. “Let me take care of you.”

Jungkook gulps but nods and agrees with you. In all honesty, he was tired. He wants you so bad and this was helping him feel relieved. However, it was just too painful and inconvenient to part-take the same way as he used to. He’s glad you understand and are comfortable enough to take over. He’s glad he feels safe and that his ego wasn’t being jeopardized.

He was no less of a man for letting you love him the way you do. If anything, it made him feel another level of security with you.

You lift yourself a little and take his length out. On top, you continue to grind on his velvet skin. It feels so good even with the fabric of your panties. Jungkook moans, beginning to feel the tingly feeling arise. He hooks his thumb on one side of your panties and pushes the fabric aside. He pushes it just enough for your folds to come in contact with his cock.

Oh, it felt so fucking good.

You gasp a little before giggling. “Feels so good.”

Jungkook sharply inhales. “Baby, I’m gonna cum so fucking fast if you don’t start riding me.”

You laugh, but listen to him. You lift yourself up once again and this time, you sink into his throbbing cock.

The precum from grinding on him makes it a little easier for you, but it still burns a bit. You stay still, trying to process the feeling and Jungkook takes a minute to calm his mind. He would literally bust a nut if you moved.

“Okay,” you huff. “I’m good to go. Do you still need a minute?”

“Fuck you,” Jungkook breathes.

“That’s a yes,” you tease. “I need to move or I’ll start to feel icky. You have ten more seconds.”

Jungkook glares at you. “Generous timing. Thank you, baby.”

“Aren’t I just the best?” you laugh, moving closer to him. You squish his cheeks together and place a kiss on his pouty lips. “Times up. Gonna ride you now.”

He takes a deep breath before placing his hands on your hips. You take that as the signal to begin. Also, you can’t help but love this view.

His bare chest and tattoos are displayed so perfectly for you. His damp hair adds to his needy look. If you were standing, your knees would have buckled. Instead—and God bless—you’re here. On top of him, ready to ride the shit out of him.

Easily, you begin to ride him. Every time you sink into his cock, you shift your body. You feel him inside you get harder and harder and love the way you can feel him hit your walls from various angles. It just feels so good to be with him again.

As you ride him, you two fall into the perfect pace. The high kicks in and suddenly the view of your breast bouncing, you throwing your head back, and the way your wet pussy eats him up—he creams inside you.

Satisfied, Jungkook lets out a breathy moan and watches his cum leak out of your pussy. You continue to ride him, but your hips move slower and you lift yourself up higher. Jungkook lifts his hips at one point and thrusts as you bounce. You gasp, unable to fathom just how fucking euphoric this feels.

“Ohhh my god!”

You hit climax and cum.

After all that, your body practically trembles and falls on top of Jungkook. He holds you, runs his fingers through your hair, and tells you how much of a good job you did. As you catch your breath, your breathing stabilizes but also welcomes the sleepiest relief.

As your eyes flutter close and your body fully collapses on Jungkook, he kisses the top of your head and murmurs; “you’re still the one, baby.”

When the sunlight seeps in, Jungkook slowly wakes up.

Immediately, he feels a sharp pain in his hand. He looks over and sees that you’re holding it. His hand is kept close to your chest and quickly recalls the night.

Though he feels a bit embarrassed that he had been that desperate for you; he’s glad it got him here. Yet, a feeling of sadness lingers because he was no idiot.

Though you wake up next to him in the morning, bare and tangled in his embrace, Jungkook knows that deep down; even here—at the very end of you and him—you are you and he remains him.

The sad truth is that Jungkook understood it. He understood you. Which is why, he’ll never tell you why he got into a fight that night and also why he’ll continue to fight for you until the end.

“Even if it’s the end for us.”

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