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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months

Text

bruised knees

words: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of blowjobs, losing virginity, virgin!reader (but fic is not smut), jealous! and overprotective!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, fluffy

rafe has been beyond overprotective of you his whole life. ever since you met in first grade and you let him borrow your brand new crayon box, only for a bully to come up and tug on your pigtails, causing rafe to pause his coloring to shove him away and tell him not to touch you ever again.

you smiled at rafe, the same smile you look at him with now, and he knew he would take care of you no matter what. you hugged him tightly and from that day on always shared your crayons, and everything else you had, with your new best friend.

“ready?” rafe slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling you towards the boat.

“yes!” you squeal, trying to navigate holding your tote bag and backpack at once, when suddenly both are out of your hands as rafe takes them and carries them down the pier.

“rafe, i can carry my own stuff.” you roll your eyes. it's a losing battle, your best friend will always lessen your load, hating seeing you do any sort of physical labor, feeling like that's his job.

“yeah, whatever.” rafe just ignores your argument, it's one he's heard so many times before, yet you make no attempt to take the bags back. “who all did you invite again?” rafe asks as you enter onto the boat, quickly beginning preparations for the day at sea, having gone through the motions so many times, knowing the boat like the back of your hand even though it's the cameron familys.

“uhh, topper, tina, kelce, steph, tiffy and hayden.” you go through the list of names in your head of friends that will be joining you and rafe on the yacht.

“how is tiffy since the break up?” rafe asks, knowing you like to talk while you work, pulling various lines while you straighten up the boat to make it more presentable, going through the motions together, always together.

rafes question launches you into a gossip session with rafe, spilling all the secrets your friends told you at your last hang out, but they know you don't keep anything from rafe, so it's no surprise when he knows as well, not that any of the girls would complain, rafe often takes over the role of protector to your friends as well, caring about who you care about.

“there's hayden!” you call to rafe, pointing down the dock to the parking lot where haydens truck just pulled in, a few minutes earlier than you expected anyone to start arriving.

“great.” rafe mumbles under his breath, making sure you don't hear his upset tone. he liked hayden at first, sharing some common interests (mostly golf), but then hayden got far too touchy with you, his gaze heating when it turned to you in a way that infuriated rafe, and he made sure to show hayden when you weren't around how much it pissed him off.

rafe is probably to credit for you never having a boyfriend for an extended period of time, but he can't help it, you're so perfect and no guy can possibly deserve you, so he has to scare them off before you get too invested and give them all of your attention instead of him.

“hey, heyds.” you greet him with a hug after he makes his way down the pier, making rafe grunts as haydens hand rests a little too low on your back for his liking, making rafes mind reel at the possibility of something going on between the two of you.

your other friends slowly begin to pile onto the boat, steph being the last one to get there as she is notorious for being late, which is why you told her to show up half an hour before everyone else, and somehow still managed to get there last.

“ready for takeoff?” you ask rafe, stepping away to join him at the wheel while your group of friends find places to sit while rafe navigates the boat towards the ocean.

“i am.” rafe nods, having disconnected the last line. no matter what is happening, you always sit next to rafe on the bench as he directs the boat, ready to be his second in command at any moment, even if its just fetching him a drink or checking the water depth.

“i can’t wait to swim.” you say with a sigh, having not gotten out into the water all week, which is rare with how much peace you find in the ocean.

“how about that one sandbar we took wheezie to?” rafe questions, wanting you to decide where he anchors the boat.

“ooh, yes.” you nod.

“she complained to me last night that you weren’t over.” rafe smiles at you when you let out a laugh.

“i don’t spend one friday night and she complains! ugh, i love that girl.” you grin thinking about wheezie, treating her like she’s your own little sister, having known her since she was born.

“you’ll stay tonight, right?” rafe asks, missing you sharing his bed like you do every weekend.

“mhm, i’m not driving home after being out on the boat all day, gonna be so exhausted.” you roll your eyes.

rafe smiles at you, wrapping one arm around his shoulder, leaving him to drive with one hand, but wanting you close to him, secretly hoping hayden would look through the windows from the lower deck and see you all cuddled up into his side.

neither of you have ever broached the topic of taking things beyond just friendship, despite rafe desperately wanting to take things further, he doesn’t want to mess up the one good thing he has in his life. you’re such a source of brightness that when you’re around him he forgets all about his fights with his dad, or issues with barry.

“here.” rafe nods to you, immediately going to drop the anchor, planning to stay in one spot all day.

you help him make sure its secure before moving to the main deck with everyone else. “alright, who is ready to swim?” you shout with glee.

“you know i am.” hayden smirks at you, pulling his shirt off over his head.

“mhm, that’s why i like you, not afraid to get wet.” you say, rafe carefully watching the interaction, unsure if you meant the innuendo or not.

you take your tshirt off as well, tossing it onto the pile that everyone is making on the sofa, revealing swimsuits underneath their clothes. rafe also undresses, but slowly and quietly.

you tug your yoga pants down next, having kicked your shoes off upon entering the boat. you turn towards rafe, always checking in with him, seeking him out amongst the crowd.

rafe smiles at you, his eyes dropping subtly down your body, quickly checking out your pale lilac swimsuit before he sees a different shade of purple, this time blossoming around your knees.

hayden seems to notice too, a smirk growing on his face when he sees the localized bruises.

“what the fuck did you do?” rafe grunts out before he can stop himself and use the calming methods you so carefully taught him.

“what?” hayden turns to look at rafe, but he’s already charging at him. rafe shoves hayden backwards, making him stumble but he manages to maintain his footing.

“rafe, chill!” you shout, grabbing at his arm.

“did he-did you fucking blow him?” rafe questions, pointing to your knees. “how did you get those bruises?” “jesus, rafe!” you take a step back, but don’t drop your grip on his arm, not sure if he would try to pull away. “you seriously ask me that in front of all our friends? for your information i was working out in the garden yesterday and bruised my knees kneeling on the pavers. but thanks for embarrassing me.”

you drop his arm when you feel tears welling in your eyes, quickly turning and sprinting into the interior of the boat.

you throw yourself onto the bed in one of the two bedrooms, hiding your face in the white pillow as you cry.

“y/n…” rafe says softly. you don’t jump at his voice, you expected him to follow you, but you don’t feel like talking to him.

“please, y/n.” rafe pleads, and you feel his weight dip the bed down as he climbs onto the mattress.

“stop it.” you whine when rafe pulls you into him, but you don’t struggle as he cuddles into you, pressing a kiss against your hair. you’ve cuddled rafe before, of course since you’ve been friends for so long, but never with this little clothing on, and you are very aware of how much of his bare skin is touching yours.

“i didn’t mean to embarrass you, y/n. i just… i just got so angry thinking about you possibly doing anything with hayden. i don’t like him. he’s not good enough for you.”

“why would you even think i would do that though? you know im a virgin.”

the words shock rafe, and you can physically feel him tense up. you pick up your head to look at him, brows furrowed together.

“i-i didn’t know that.” rafe just assumed you lost it to one of your short term boyfriends.

“no… no i would have told you, rafey. you’re my best friend, i… you told me when you lost yours.” you remind rafe of when he was 16 years old and had sex for the first time, calling you only an hour after to confide in you, partly hoping you would get jealous.

“i thought you knew that i wouldn’t want to hear about you sleeping with someone. i guess i just figured you kept it to yourself for my sake.” rafe doesn’t realize the implication of his words as they flow from between his lips.

“why would i?- wait… you like me?” you blink up at him.

rafe pauses. now is as good as time as any, especially with the growing threat of hayden and other guys who aren’t scared of rafe potentially taking you away from him. “yes. i love you. i think i’ve loved you since first grade.” “holy shit, you asshole!” you shout, and it’s not the reaction rafe was expecting as he tenses, waiting for you to run off, or get mad, but instead your shout turns into a laugh, “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner!” and then your lips are on his, finally feeling the perfect meld of your mouths together as rafe quickly snaps into action, his lips moving against yours as he cups your face.

“i love you too, in case it wasn’t obvious.” you whisper against his mouth before resuming the kiss.

“thank fuck, i was ready to murder hayden just because i thought you liked him.” rafe laughs, tugging on your waist to bring your bodies even closer together, leaving his large hand resting against your bare back.

“pshht.” you shake your head. “he’s not even half the man you are.”

“holy shit, i love you.” rafe repeats, taking you in for another kiss.

“my friends are never gonna believe that we finally got together.” you giggle. “i think they’ve all placed bets.”

“your friends?” rafe shakes his head. “baby, i think even our parents have.”

“i… i’m really happy we admitted are feelings.” you say shyly, a blush covering your cheeks as you look down, breaking eye contact. “everyone told me that you liked me too but i was too nervous to ruin what we had.”

“hey, it’s okay.” rafe says softly. “we have forever this way.”

you feel tears well up in your eyes again as you wrap your arms around rafe, pressing your head into his bare chest.

“gosh, i can’t wait to go tell everyone.” you admit with a giggle.

“yeah? wanna go get in the water too?” rafe asks, unsure if your friends waiting for your argument to be over to swim.

“hell yeah.” you slide off the bed, rafe taking a minute to check out your body, not hiding his heated gaze as you catch him.

“holy shit, you are checking me out!”

“duh, you’re my girl now.” rafe smirks, also getting off the bed, placing an arm around your shoulder. “gonna give you bruised knees for a different reason, baby.”

“wait, rafe-” you begin, suddenly not feeling like swimming anymore, but he pulls you out onto the deck, seeing all your friends sitting awkwardly on the sofas, waiting for whatever argument to be over with.

“don’t worry baby.” rafe drops his mouth to your ear, making sure your friends can’t hear. “we can talk about that virginity of yours later.” rafe doesn’t give you a second to respond, placing his fingers on your chin and tilting your head towards him to press a kiss to your lips to the chorus of all of your friends letting out woops and claps, along with shouts of “finally!”

“i told you!” tiffy shouts, holding her hand out towards stephanie. “you owe me 20 bucks!”

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azulpitlane · 5 months

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i wish you would I ln4

pairings: lando norris x reader, exbf! mason mount x reader summary: part two of got love struck notes: kinda dragged making this but finals are finally over so send me some requests pls🤸‍♀️ this ones kinda angsty and there's lots of miscommunication sorry hehe part three, masterlist

yourusername posted a story 2h ago

The night was full of partying, drinking and dancing as you celebrated your best friend's 23rd birthday. The night quickly turned into a mess when you went to the bar to get everyone more drinks. When you came back your friends were nowhere to be seen, you assumed they were in the dance floor but when you went to check, they weren't there either. To make matters worse, you had put your phone in your friend's purse for safe keeping so you had no way to contact them. The panic quickly sobered you up as you looked everywhere for them but instead you found different a familiar face.

"Mason?"

"Y/n! Hey, I didn't realize you were here."

Your ex-boyfriend went for a hug as he greeted you. You and Mason ended your relationship over a year ago, and though you felt no animosity towards the football player, the breakup had been hard as everybody on the internet seemed to have an opinion on it. It was mutual breakup, you both were in different stages in your life and it just seemed like it wasn't your time.

"Yeah, I was celebrating y/bff/n's birthday with a few other girls, but I have no idea where they are and they have my cell." You were starting to get frustrated as you felt like they left without you.

"Oh no, I would help you look but I'm about to head out. Let me give you a ride home, I would hate for you to be here by yourself."

You knew if somebody saw you and Mason alone it would cause chaos all over again, but you had no other choice at the moment and you just wanted to go to bed. You agreed and as you left you both were oblivious to the cameras taking pictures of you leaving through the back door together.

As you pulled up to your hotel you smiled at Mason and thanked him.

"You're a lifesaver Mase seriously, I don't know what I would've done if I never found them or you."

"You don't have to thank me y/n. I will always look out for you even if we're broken up. I still care for you."

"You're a great friend, I'll always look out for you too."

"And um I have to ask,"

You could tell he was nervous as he scratched the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed slightly.

"What is it Mase?"

"Do you love him?"

You were surprised by the question, not expecting him to bring up Lando.

"Um yeah-yes. I love him so much, I can't even find the words to describe it to be honest. I don't think any song I write can even measure to how strong my love is for him."

"That's good, yeah, that's great. I just, I'm happy you found your person y/n. You know, I thought that person would be me, but if you're happy, than I am too. I guess we just weren't meant to be."

"Mase, you're one of the most amazing people I've met, seriously. I don't think it was ever in the cards for us, but you've taught me so much and you'll always have a special place in my heart. You will find your person one day, I promise."

You smiled at Mason as you spoke, not realizing you had given him the closure he had been needing for a year.

Lando was freaking out.

He had been sent the article of you and Mason over 5 times already and you hadn't answered your phone in over 2 hours. His mind was reeling as he was thinking about what you could possibly be doing right now. Even though he trusted you more than anything, he couldn't help but let it get to him. Why aren't you answering?

He knew your phone was charged and turned on considering he can still see your location. As he checked it again, he realized you were no longer at the club. You were at someone's apartment. Why weren't you at your hotel? Who's apartment was this?

Before he let himself jump to conclusions, he called y/bff/n knowing you two went out together.

"LANDOOOO! HI."

"Y/bff/n, hey is y/n with you?"

"Y/n? Oh nooooo. Aw I miss her Lan, is she with you?"

"What? No, how could she be with me? I'm in Monaco right now."

"Oh. Then I'm not so sure."

Lando could feel himself getting frustrated as he spoke with the clearly intoxicated girl.

"Okay, did she go home with you? With anyone else?"

"I don't know, you should probably call her or something."

"I did, over 10 times in the past hour."

"Oh maybe she's busy! Let me know how it goes, bye!"

"Wait-"

She hung up. Lando was going to throw up. He was never considered himself as an insecure guy, but he couldn't help but feel there was something going on. He's seen those tweets and comments saying how much everyone loved you and Mason together. What if those comments made you realize they were right? What if you were with Mason right now? Lando wanted to cry, scream and throw up all at once.

Three loud knocks woke you up from your beauty sleep. You were still in last night's clothes as you were too tired to even change after the nights disaster. You opened the door and your best friend ran in and hugged you.

"Y/N! I'm so so sorry for leaving you all by yourself. I was completely blacked out and I guess I was acting sloppy because y/f/n said we got kicked out of the club! I was acting too drunk and they got mad im so so sorry, this is all my fault and we tried to tell security to get you but they were so mean and-"

"Y/bff/n stop. It's fine, it was your birthday, you deserved to act a little crazy."

"Still babe, I'm sorry. Now that article is being spread like crazy and it's all because of me."

"What are you talking about? What article?"

"Shit. I forgot, here's your phone. But I have to warn you, people saw you leaving the club with Mason last night and the rumors have already begun. Im sorry hun."

Oh god.

Lando🧡 15 missed calls 5 unread messages

YourPublicist 2 missed calls 1 unread message

Danny Ric🤠 2 unread messages

Y/f/n 8 unread messages

The notifications were endless as you scrolled through your phone but there was only one that you really cared about. You immediately called Lando, afraid he was angry at you for this mess.

"Lan, baby, I'm so sorry for worrying you. I just opened your messages, y/bff/n had my phone all night." You immediately gave him a run down of the night as you knew what it was like to be in his position. The media has circulated so many rumors about your relationship overnight and you knew how hard that was. You had dealt with it all throughout your career and you were heartbroken it was happening to Lando because of you.

"That's weird because I actually called y/bff/n last night and she did not mention she had your phone."

"She was so out of it last night, she probably forgot she even had it. Oh god, she was downing shots I'm honestly not even surprised she got kicked out, she was so crazy-"

"Y/n, you don't understand, I have not slept all night. I was worried and everyone is talking about this. I look like an idiot in this situation."

You knew Lando was going to be upset but after your explanation, you didn't expect for him to still be angry at you.

"I know, the night was a mess, but nothing happened with Mason. He just dropped me off and I'm grateful it was him and not some random taxi."

"You're grateful it was him? You're grateful these pictures are all over the internet?"

"That's not what I meant! I meant he was the safest option at that moment, I had nobody else."

"Yeah. Half of the internet is happy it was him. People are actually celebrating thinking you guys are back together."

"Don't listen to them Lan, me and Mase are never getting back together. People will accept it over time and this will blow over."

"Why are you being so casual about this? Do you even know how I felt last night when you weren't answering. I was going to be sick thinking what you could possibly be doing with him."

"Lan, I told you nothing happened. Why aren't you believing me?"

"This is just all too much." Lando knew he was overreacting a bit. Your story made sense and it all lined up, but he had spent the entire night overthinking and reading the rumors about you two that he couldn't get them out of his mind. He loved you so much and last night made him realize how easily he can lose you and that thought terrified him. You were everything to him, but did you really feel the same way?

"Are you breaking up with me? Seriously? Over a stupid tabloid, I can't believe this." You felt betrayed. Did he not trust you?

"I dont know, it's just hard for me wrap my head around this right now."

"Lan, my flight to Monaco leaves in a few hours, how about we just talk about this in person when our heads are clear?"

Lando was getting angrier as the call went on. He knew his insecurities were getting the best of him right now but he felt like you weren't listening to him. You were trying to brush this off when the whole world was going against you two right now.

"Wow Y/n. My heads pretty fucking clear right now. You know what? Maybe it's best if you don't come, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay."

one week later

liked by user 1, user 2, masonmount and 3,593,304 others

yourusername life atm. p.s all new music released from now on is coming from the comfort of my own bed <3

comments on this post have been limited

yourbff love u. coming over rn🏃‍♀️

yourusername pls dont forget snacks

taylorswift need this new album right now

danielricciardo ❤️‍🩹

liked by user1, user2 and 231,583 others

dailymail Singer Y/n Y/l/n spotted once again with Manchester United star, Mason Mount, leaving a restaurant with a few other football players. Are the two officially back together? Rumors of her breakup with Formula One driver, Lando Norris have been circulating for over a week now after Y/l/n and Mount were seen leaving a club together. Read more on this new love triangle in our article linked in our bio.

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user1 im so excited for this album HAHAHA

user2 team mason idc

user3 funny how the last song she dropped was titled slut, if the shoe fits :)

user4 slut shaming in 2023? disgusting.

user5 i refuse to believe her and lando broke up sorry

user6 delulu is the solulu atp😁

notes: another cliffhanger!!!🤸‍♀️also this isn't proofread at all my bad heh

tags: @jayrami3 @whoselly @roseseraj @saturnbloom77 @landowecanbewc

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #ln4 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris smau #mason mount x reader

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smuttyaf · 2 months

Text

You Can Be My Daddy

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐞.

wc; 10k | part one

lil bit of submissive!h. implied age gap! don’t read if it makes you uncomfy!!

Fingers dripping in saliva swiftly zip Harry back up, your rising chest settles down from its previous movements with heels taking steps back to create space between your teacher.

And as he swallows heavily with hands going to his belt and looping it around his waist, the door knob is turning and eerily creaking open, little time to comprehend the sudden intrusion.

Harry tries to focus on fixing himself back up but can’t help catch sight of your movements.

Palms swiping across your skirt heavily, tongue peaking out of your mouth to catch whatever aftertaste of him lapped around your lips just as you lean over to grab your things. His boss is stepping through the door making the atmosphere strained yet, that sight alone has Harry wanting to bend you over right then and there.

“Oh! Hello miss, surprised to see you!”

Wobble of a smile tugs on the ends of Harry’s lips, but bunny, she’s beaming. Flush of pink roaming amongst her cheeks accentuating her happy smile, steps swaying with subtle lifts of beat as if not touching him a few seconds ago.

“Yes! Well, I was just asking Mr. Styles this question about Marie Antoinette, our term paper is coming up.” Voice not wavering with eye contact stern when she passes him.

And Harry, he can’t help but notice how quick you are to lie; how you’re so good at it. Almost too easy to believe but you’re doing it, because the expression over Mr. Bennett's face is one of being intrigued.

“Ah, yes! Marie Antoinette, so misunderstood.” His body stepping back as he holds the door open. “I’m sure you will do well. I read your piece in the school paper; I must applaud you for your insight on Maslow, I never would’ve thought you’re familiar with his work.”

“Yes, I am. His argument on self-actualization is said in such great detail, his work is truly something.” Innocence shining through your expression of doe eyes and nodding head. The fact he’s even commenting on your published column only adds to your sweet image. “I should really get going now, goodbye Mr. Bennett.”

Harry’s thankful you don’t acknowledge him as you leave. Beer belly principal nodding his head stiffly as he goes to close the door.

Now without you by his side does he begin to sweat; knuckles flexing, jaw tensing, and lips still smiling tightly. He tries to reel it in for the sake of his job that he put on the line.

“Such a lovely girl,” He compliments as Harry makes his way towards his desk. Fingers fumbling over his paperwork looking for the report.

“Y —Yes, an excellent student.” Harry sighs once your name comes into view. He twists towards the gray haired man trying to conceal his worked up nerves.

“Thank you!” He smiles, head bowing delighted that it’s finished before stepping closer.

Mr. Bennett’s gaze is heavy as it roams over Harry. The nervous twitch of his nostril, diverating eyes and shallow breath. Inspecting every inch of him looking to catch anything off about Harry’s appearance.

“May I ask what her question was?”

His fingers curl in on each other at the sudden request catching him off guard. His boss can probably see the distress written all over his face, especially with the way he clears his throat and shifts on his feet.

“I’m sorry?” He asks, green eyes squinting to look at the principal with a confused glare.

“The question about Marie Antoinette, what was it?” Mr. Bennett responds, his bushy brows perk up as he leans on the desk.

The charm that bunny has, the one that graced this very room now leaves it empty, having him hanging by a thread. You managed to get away with your lie, but Harry, he has to continue it thinking fast on his feet to catch up.

“Uh, Marie Antoinette… her uh, saying…” He clears his throat, hand raising to his mouth coughing tensely trying to get rid of the strain on his throat. “Let them eat cake, I was explaining to her that it was just hear-say, actually coined from Jean-Jacques Rousseau, a book created way before the existence of Marie.”

The older man relaxes, tongue swiping across his dry lips as he nods once more. Satisfied smile stretches deeper amongst his features, index finger tapping into the wood of his desk as he leans off.

“Just testing…” Wink dropping before he’s turning around on his heels. Harry relaxes tremendously with shoulders subsiding and heart easing in pace as he watches him retreat to the door.

“Don’t need any new rumors, especially with parents' interviews coming up, now do we?” Mr. Bennett turns towards him, gaze running down Harry’s frame, stern sight yet delighted grin.

“Of course not sir.” He replies, nodding his head as he tracks the door swinging shut.

Harry can’t help the way his body twists around, hands combing through his hair as he tries his best to refrain from hitting himself.

How stupid can he be? That was too close of a call. If you were on your knees any longer he would’ve been packed up, sent away, and forbidden to even show his face again.

If you weren’t so passive about the situation he would have given up the facade and begged to keep his job… yet, you made it so easy covering up the moment with a shining grin and persuasive small talk. This time you both got lucky, but what about next time?

Should he even think there is one? Is he crazy to think that? Probably. He shouldn’t be fascinated or find you appealing, but he does.

He wants the sweet taste of you back on his lips… and the feeling of your hands drawing down him with that warm wet mouth just covering him all over. God, he’ll do anything to feel you again and that’s fucked up to think, but now that he’s finally had a taste he wants more. He can’t help but want more.

Harry knows it’s foolish, purely stupid, but even you yourself said it; he’s your daddy and you’re his bunny.

And, you do what you always do, be a tease.

You’re so tempting it’s hard not to notice. With your cherry lips and adorable giggle heard when passing in the hall.

Your skirt is rolled up even higher now, breast more sheen through your button up, and when you sit in front of him in class always focused with tongue glossing over your lips. It reminds him of the weeks prior, how his bunny sucked him up deliciously… how you loved every moment with dirty words and welcoming throat.

He can’t get you off his mind bunny, you’re all he thinks about in his mundane life of teaching and lacrosse. You make things so exciting, so thrilling, he likes knowing the fact he finally has your attention.

You continue to dip your back letting him see your panties, a different colour everyday of the week; sometimes lacy, sometimes plaid, but either way he enjoys the view. Harry especially likes it when you begin signing your nickname at the top of your page for tests, risky, but it entringes him even more.

It’s like right now, your eyes are following his every move when speaking about The French Revolution. Showing how attentive and perfect you are. He tries to ignore your plush mouth and drawing gaze, but he can’t help to float back over your appearance for a little while.

He wraps up the end of the class thirty minutes early, introducing the homework to be done by tomorrow and also suggesting if needing any help for the upcoming paper, that he’s all ears.

And of course, his bunny is by his side. Captivating smile shining to the bounce of your mary jane’s. Harry bites down on his lip, catching sight of your thigh highs and prominent tits. You sure know how to get his attention.

“Mr. Styles,” Long drawl of his name singing in your sweet voice. Leather clad foot resting along the heel of your shoes when leaning into the desk.

“I couldn’t understand this excerpt from yesterday.”

He knows you're lying, knows you’re way too smart not to understand something so easily explained in the textbook, but he can’t help the breathless laugh that escapes him when leaning forward in his chair.

As you place the book onto the desk he catches sight on the folded paper stuck between the spine. His throat clears, eyes shifting towards you who smiles softly at him.

His hands peel away from his arm rest and collects the thick book in his palms, shoulders turning towards you looking down at him curiously.

“This part over here, it states Marie betrayed France by telling the Austrian invaders, why would she do that?”

As the words you speak trail out as foolishness your finger points to the large text box pertaining to your question till it soon slides between the middle and lets the note fall down on the desk. Harry watches it all, his eyes trained on your finger dragging across the rest of the glossy page with fake confusion.

You want his attention so bad, look at you.

Leaning over his desk with flirty gaze and teasing smile, your breasts sparkling in his vision with the way your back curves. It’s sickening how you get away with it, how no one realizes how persuading you are at this moment but him.

“Well, yes, she betrayed the battle plans of the French in hope that they would be defeated and the monarchy restored.” He responds swiftly, hands closing the book while turning to look at you. “Does that answer your question?”

Plump lips curve against the beaming smile of your teeth, slow bob of your head lightly shifting your breasts that Harry can’t help but lick his lip at the sight. Your hand reaches out and accepts the book, hugging it into your chest before stepping away.

“Yes, thank you sir.” Heels retreating back to your desk in a sway of suggestive hips.

Harry watches you take your seat, skirt twisting with eyes tracking back to him, another tug of your lips following before you’re opening your textbook and starting the assigned work.

And he waits a few moments, letting himself look busy flipping through his agenda of drills for the lacrosse practice this afternoon. Fingers fiddling with the ends of the page before taking the note up and unraveling it.

You’re all I can think about…

His heart goes all warm, stomach clenching and veins pulsing to his dick. The neat cursive written in the middle of the torn piece of paper is a kept secret between you and him. Harry can't help but look up at you.

Completely focused on the question at hand, brows pushed together and pen breaking through your lips. You’re concentrated on keeping up your grades, you’re perfect image.

Harry has to sit back in his chair and simply just applaud you. You disguise your true self so well bunny, being the good girl that you are, the one you pretend to be.

But, it’s with his eyes trained on you does he catch Calie passing a note towards Finn. The red head laughs to himself over it before it’s passing behind him to Emmet. The telephone string of the paper from sender to receiver a mess between rushed hands.

He watches closely as it shifts throughout the room, polished nails or bitten ones taking it and passing it onto the next. From Emmet to Astrid, and then Bella to Gabriel until it’s being poked on the elbow of you.

Bunny? What’s this? Someone else on your mind and not him… you should know better than that. Who else races your mind if not him?

Harry can’t stop his nose from flaring as he sees you take it with a smile on your lips accepting the sheet.

“Y/N, would you like to share the note with the rest of the class.”

Your head picks up; eyes wide, fingers curling around the paper, and cheeks heating up noticing that you’re caught.

Snickers of students and grinning faces fill the air over the interruption of free time. They’re just as intrigued with who could’ve been the source just as much as Harry is.

“Hmm?” He continues, sight watching heavily on the way you bite your lip before looking between him and the note.

Your throat clears with fingers peeling it open, deep breath floating in the ruffle of chairs and whispers.

“Um, w —will you meet me after dinner tonight, Luca,” Voice wavering as you swallow heavily, sight catching between Harry and the blonde boy. He sits in the front right hand corner of the room shuffling in his seat, brows raised with the same expression written over his face like his bunny.

So, he’s the one who has your attention, not Harry who should be front and center. His own right wing of defense spending time with you. It’s comical and everyone in the room thinks it’s funny too.

Harry cracks his knuckles in the teasing atmosphere of you distraught that you got caught. You were just sweet talking your way with him minutes ago, and now your mind is elsewhere. Don’t you know better than that?

“Please remember that there will be no passing notes in my class.”

Your lashes flutter at him before turning to look at Luca. Chummy grin with back slouching against the chair, his eye drops into a wink that leaves you tugging your lips into a smirk.

You don’t care… of course you don’t. You have anyone that desires you hanging in front of your face by a thread while you pull the strings whenever bored.

Harry tries not to be mad, tries to reel in his nerves as you flash your eyes at the shaggy blonde as if it’s just the two of you. You’re so naughty toying with him.

This isn’t his bunny. The one who’s so attentive and pleasing. No, you’re doing more to prove how smart you truly are, the tease you love to be.

Thick blades of grass squish amongst the feet of intense movements. Cleats cutting through swiftly as they pick up from the bodies charging down the field, yellow tinged ball crossing in the air as blue and green jerseys drift by.

It’s a beautiful day outside, the trees rustling against the subtle wind from the spring breeze transitioning into the summer season. Colleagues roaming amongst the grounds on their own destinations to distinct quarters, or students still lounging in their uniforms watching the school team practice and you just so happen to be there.

Academy gym shorts with matching t-shirt relaxing on the field, badminton rackets by each of your friends as you giggle looking towards the team.

Harry can’t help his eyes glazing over your taunt frame. Perky backside and charming aura working for not only him, but the player on the team who just so happened to score in the scrimmage at hand.

He watches the way you smirk before turning to your friends who bump shoulders with you, teasing each other with pointed glaces and twisting feet.

Look at you, so happy to give your attention away; to show you have other options, one that leaves Harry jealous and fighting to regain focus.

“Alright, I’m calling it in.” Ed nods to him once checking his watch. That’s his cue to trail across the field while the head coach draws the team in.

The nylon of his pants swishes with each stride before he’s leaning down collecting the pylons. His body makes its way across the field picking up the yellow plastic, white lines shifting his version that he doesn’t realize he’s near you. Close enough to see your gleaming smile and hear little about the conversation in the group.

It’s when leaning down to pick up the equipment do your eyes catch on each other. Head swishing to the side as you smile happily. Your finger twirls the ends of your hair with body shifting against the grass as you ignore whatever words are being said.

Harry watches clearly the way your head twists around and slowly, but subtly nods towards the array of trees that comb over the grounds of the school. Your eyebrows raise in question before listening to your friends.

Was this your plan all along? With your friends too distracted with each other to realize your actions to lure him out there. Was this what you were plotting this whole time? Low waisted shorts and dreamy eyes simply directing him where to meet once practice is over.

You’re too good at this, too conceited and happy to get whatever you want. Even if you were just delighted to have Lucas' attention you still want more.

Harry trails his view off you when picking up the remaining equipment before joining the team for the cool down of the practice.

He puts all the pinneys and pylons together, palms securing everything in their respective bags until he’s tugging off towards the equipment room. His body carried him down the flight of stairs while looking out towards the window just parallel to the steps.

Harry watches your body stalking into the woods and he can’t help the smirk that tugs at the end of his lips as he goes down the rest of the stones.

Leaves and sticks crunch below your Converse, fingers feeling over the light green blades that feels like velvet against the pad of your skin. The tug at the end of your lip is hard not to resist with your veins pulsing at what could possibly happen if you see Mr. Styles again.

This game of cat and mouse was your specialty, being able to have your way with teachers and peers so attractive and delectable. You could always tell with their breath catching and shaky voice that it was right to purpose the match.

Your perfect grades and kind attitude shines over your deeper thoughts, your favorite desires, the ones that have you tugging your way into the forest of the school right now.

Your head twists up to catch shadows of the trees as your steps still venture out east of the school, far from the usual make out spots on the property.

Will he even come? The way he turned away from you on the field was giving he wasn’t even interested, and all because of Luca and his dumb note; the one you got called out on.

You like having your secrets unknown to each other, all your lies being covered with pearly white teeth and bending spine. You were subtle with handing your own note off to your favorite teacher, if it all went well then you were certain he would show up to meet. But your boy toy around school had other plans when deciding to get you tangled in your tactics.

Stuttering and looking up at Mr. Styles caught in the aftermath of flirty eyes and bouncing breasts. You hate that he had ruin your chances, you’re not quite sure when you’ll be near your teacher again without it being so obvious from friends and peers. It was such a risky game that you loved to play despite having yourself caught up last semester.

It’s a good thing you’re so good at batting your lashes and talking so sweetly you managed to get away, but now it was a tab left in your mother’s mind and it certainly wounded your step-father. Your right hand goes to your mouth and begins to chew on your nail from the anxiety festering from the memories. You need to be sharper and have all your little white lies arranged better, you can’t manage to slip up again.

Steps finally come to a halt, body twisting around to rest along the wide tree with unruly bushes growing around it. Perfect. Your back slouches against the stumb as your hand tears away from your mouth.

You could barely see the field or the school's architecture from your place. You can only hope Mr. Styles would find you if he was still interested.

He has to be… he still stares at you longingly especially on your lips. Bet he’s remembering your moment together, the one that you can’t stop thinking about. How he made your throat swell and voice all raspy… how you had to pretend in front of the principal you didn’t just swallow your teacher's load.

You want more of him. He’s all you think about when Luca would he kissing down your neck or when your step-father is in your ear whispering how much he misses you, Mr. Styles was the only one on your mind when everything would be happening.

When the thick Bradford accent on the other end of the phone describes everything he would do, all you can think of is your teacher and what he would do in his place. Where his hands would spread amongst your body, or where his lips would find themselves on your skin.

The cracking of branches brings you out of your thoughts, your fingers running over the ends of your shorts as you see brown hair come into sight.

So he did show up, trialing after you like you thought he would. The ends of your lips curl up as you relax deeper into the wood. Mr. Styles continues his steps into the space, his eyes darting around until you whistle sweetly to catch his attention.

“Fancy seeing you around,” You perk up, feet crossing over each other as you watch him make his way over.

His body covered in a black tracksuit certainly making him appealing with his bulky frame. Humming softly your tongue peeks out to swipe along your bottom lip. The thoughts of him manhandling you from your teasing ways makes your clit begin to swell.

“Bunny…” He greets with hands wrapping around your waist. Tall frame pushing you deeper into the stumb as he looks over your face.

“Daddy…” You utter, peering up at him through doe eyes, the same ones that have him falling every time.

“I missed you,” Whispering up at him sweetly. Your hands leave your shorts to pull at the band of his track pants.

Those words have the teacher surveying your every feature with fingers curling tighter around your hips. Mr. Styles is so handsome with his grainy stubble and board chest. The way he’s pining you into the tree has you moaning quietly as you straighten your back.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” His words send a wave of annoyance through you. The eye roll you find yourself doing is completely unintentional as your head knocks into the wood.

“That wasn’t my fault,” You huff, fingers snaking along his boxers while looking up at him.

“Oh, really?” Playful cheer in the teacher’s voice as his palms venture down your hips and feel over your cheeks. The motions so possessive from his huge hands that the moan that trails from you has him groaning as well.

“It wasn’t, because you know…” Mr. Styles' face draws closer with each word as he towers over you. “You’re all I can think about.”

The pads of your fingers gaze across his happy trail, mouth parting slightly as you lift yourself onto your toes closer to him, the taste that you’ve been craving just inches away.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

His teasing tone and rough hands have you begging just to close the space around him. It’s why your nails leave scratches against the older man’s skin, whining high in your throat so desperate for him.

“All the time,” Warmth of your movements draw deeper down his pelvis. “I think about you when I shower in the morning… touching myself thinking you're there with me.”

Deep growl rumbles through Mr. Styles, his teeth biting into his lip as he steps closer. His hips parallel with yours as you curl your hand around his cock, thick bead of pre-cum smearing along his crown as you keep your gaze strong.

“Having me up against the wall, water between us… daddy, I always imagine how good you would fuck me.” Torturing him with your lewd thoughts whenever alone and thinking about your favorite person.

“Just stretching me out all nice and wide… you’re so big… all nice and thick, I still remember how you fucked my throat.” The older man can’t stop himself from landing a furious smack against your ass. Tiny squeak leaving you as you fall to your heels.

“What else do you think about princess?” He ask, lips so dangerously close your breath is wavering.

Your hand grips tighter around Mr. Styles cock, his hips inching closer to you as he palms over your backside. Happy would be an understatement about how you feel at the moment. He’s finally here and under your spell again, just the way you like him.

“I think about you beneath me…” Tongue skimming across your flesh as you slide down him with ease, the fluid drawing from him makes the twist of your movements much easier as he leans in deeper.

“Kissing down my stomach, feeling up my thighs, licking where I want you the most,” Lashes flutter as his mouth inches closer and closer to you. “Don’t you think about my pussy daddy?”

Those very words have him capturing your lips with his. The muted taste of peppermint lingering along his tongue rubs against yours, spit being exchanged with haste as he can’t help his fingers from slinking between your thighs and feeling over the very place you want him.

He’s rubbing the spot there, rough ends of his digits massaging over your clothed area. It’s harsh and swift as they draw down your folds, an electric surge tingling down your spine feeling him around you all over again.

Mr. Styles is all rugged with his growing beard and bulky frame. He could easily manhandle you any kind of way but he treats you so delicately. You couldn’t imagine how he’ll spread you nice and wide, it’s all that’s been on your mind when you pass by him in the hall or stare up at him in class. Those very thoughts that have you breaking away from the kiss with a whimper.

“How I’ll feel around you…” Fingers contracting around his length as you bow your eyes at him slowly. “How I’ll stretch around you…” Lips curling in on each other savoring the taste of him on your buds. “How I taste… don’t you think about that a lot Mr. Styles… how my pussy would taste on your tongue?”

And he’s groaning in his throat, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip as his hands leave their position and drape to their previous one. His head cranes down to press wet kisses along the expanse of your neck, your hips being held strongly against the bark.

“Yes bunny… I do.” Your head turns against the wood from the adrenaline coursing through, his breath drapes warm and heavy amongst your skin that you moan at the feel.

In his new position you retrieve your hands and place them on either side of his face, your eyes watching closely as he breathes over your belly button with sight connecting to yours.

His hands drag up and down the expanse of your stomach before his fingers catch onto the band of your shorts, head wandering deeper down and staring up at you while doing so.

The lined cotton shorts that once grace your hips draw down swiftly with your panties, they pool around your feet with his hands drawing back up your naked thighs, feverish pecks roaming over your abdomen until pressing into your love handles.

“Oh daddy… won’t you make me feel good?” Fingers curling into his hair and ruffling with it. You always wanted to do that. Feel his hair rubbing against your stomach and kisses littering your inner thigh, it’s finally happening and you couldn’t be more excited.

Mr. Styles is looking up at you, sun highlighting the green in his eyes and his long lashes that blink up. And with the soft breeze whisking itself through the forest do you whimper at the feeling of it passing through your lower half.

“Yes, bunny.” Said so deep and husky that your fingers scratch along his scalp. His hand that dragged along your thigh urges your leg up, you don’t hesitate to prop it up your side with his help to keep it there.

Mr. Styles breath floats along your inner thighs, light smears of his wet lips pressing along the skin that you whine high in your throat. You don’t know how much time you have, but you doubt anyone is looking for either of you or going further past the school grounds to come look. You’re sure you’re safe but still, there’s always the possibility of someone seeing or finding you.

It’s why all movements are so rushed yet lucid, his tongue dragging sloppily along your thighs as he moves towards your pussy. A relieving sigh leaving when his tongue skims over your folds, eyes still locked on each other as his grip tightens over you.

“Daddy,” Soft call of his name trailing out as he leans in again to lick you, a pleasant hum vibrates over you that your eyes bat slowly at the feel.

The delicious drag of his tongue lying flat against your pussy as he draws his head up in lengthy strides makes your foot bend in your Converse. This is what you’ve always dreamt about; his tongue eating you out, and it’s even better that you tell he’s enjoying it with his fingers scratching into your skin all hungry.

“Like how I taste, daddy?”

A deep groan pulsates throughout you to answer which has your head knocking back into the tree. Sweet moan falling from your lips as your knee against the stumb bends a bit, pussy sinking deeper against Mr. Styles tongue as he draws up your folds.

One hand leaves his curls and goes towards the one holding your thigh up, his head rocking up and down in rush strides that you begin following his movements. Wet muscle flexing against every swivel and drag, his forest orbs loving the way your lips fall apart and moan from his touch. He lets you take charge and ride his tongue just the way you like if that's the attention you need… the attention you deserve.

His tongue drags up along your clit and in the moment you don’t hesitate to tug his head back and circle your waist along him. The width of his tongue swallowing your clit up so beautifully that it’s better than everything you imagined, and the fact he’s a grown man letting you ride his face, god he’s the best daddy ever.

Your head leans forward, teeth biting down on your lip as you gently move him against your circling hips.

“You’re so good to me daddy.”

Mr. Styles' eyes close slowly even more aroused from your words and the fact you taste like honey. His nails leave crescent moons into skin as he lets you drag yourself all over him. Just as hot as it is to be getting off using him, Harry was a slave to your tactics getting off to your sweet nectar and melodic voice dripping in sex.

Between the slurps of him eating your pussy to the moans expelling every time you swivel your hips harder against him, the scene is one of greed. Pure old fashioned greed of wanting nothing more than to ruin each other. It’s such a dangerous game but it’s so fun, luring him in and pulling at his heart strings all because it was entertaining to you.

“Like the way I ride you?” His tongue tenses against your movements, his head bobbing shallowly that leaves you to let out a breathless sigh.

And to think after calling you out hours ago when catching you with someone else Mr. Styles is here right now eating your pussy, and loving it.

He’s the daddy you need, the one that goes over and beyond to prove where your eyes should be focused on. He’s really the best, doing all this just to prove to you the place he wants in your life.

“Do you want me to ride your cock like this?” Lazy smirk tugging at the end of your lips with brow raising slightly, your motions losing momentum as you look down at him.

His mouth flexes against your folds, lips pressing open kisses back along your thighs. Wet juices dragging along your skin as your grip over him relaxes. Your thigh falls lucid by your leg, his touch drawing back up your skin as he finds his way up your body.

“Bunny,” Mr. Styles breathes against your clothed stomach. The sweet exchange that once coats his mouth disappears once dragging along the shirt. His lips trailing back up your neck and pressing onto your cheeks.

“I don’t know how much time we have left.”

You shake your head confidently, hands now drawing up his shoulders and stepping closer to him. You’re sure there’s nothing to worry about, almost positive you had enough time to have him the way you want.

“Please…” Lips pout slightly as you get him to peer into your eyes, your canine tooth catching on your lip before you’re smiling innocently at him. “I’m all nice and tight for you, don’t you want to feel daddy?”

Mr. Styles groans lowly, his face shifting amongst yours as he slots your lips against each other. The sweet taste of yourself flows along your tongue and you love every bit of it knowing that he adores it even more at the moment. The juices that you expel with the mix of your saliva, it’s a delicious brew that you're sure he wants forever from the way his fingers grip onto your hips.

He’s thought of this moment so many times yet can’t believe it’s happening, and the words you speak, he’s nearly coming from the sweet sound and the way you say his name.

Tongues dance along each other in a rushed frenzy not knowing how much longer it’ll be till this moment happens again. Your lips feel over the soft pricks of his stubble, hands drawing along his chest and moaning at the possessiveness over the kiss. His tongue flows against yours with such dominance you moan against him before pulling away with a bite at his lip.

“Just lay down for me, please?” You ask all sweet and doe eyed, nails dotting against the nylon of his jacket as you stare up at him.

And he’s unsure, with sight looking between you and the scenery around. A gentle sigh escapes as he nods his head lightly. “Okay.”

The grin that shines across your lips is bright and cheery, your eyes watching him closely as his knees begin to bend and you don’t hesitate to follow. Your hands fitting themselves on each side of his head, hips resting along his stomach with your face becoming parallel to each other.

“Been thinking about this since I met you.” Head leaning forward and dotting kisses against his chin, his hands by his side tug at the top of his track pants to pull them down.

“Looking at you in class… thinking about you fucking me on my desk.” Rush breath combing over his neck as you litter him with love. “Or yours.” Giggle trailing out so adorably that Mr. Styles moans at the sound. His hand draws away from the fabric of his joggers and lands a scolding slap amongst your ass.

“Dirty girl.” He mutters, fingers spreading you wide while rocking you over his erection.

“Only for you daddy.”

Leaning back on your knees, your hands slide towards your t-shirt and tug it over your head. Your breasts on display as you balance yourself amongst his waist, arm going behind your back and palming his cock.

“Want you inside me.” You say while blindly releasing him from his confines and twisting him slowly.

Mr. Styles rests on his elbows as he watches you raise up, the beautiful sight of his bunny bare and ready to take him, this is too good to be true.

His teeth poke out from his mouth and catch on his lips, stomach dipping with heavy breaths as he watches you lower yourself. Your puffy folds spread wide as his cock fills you up slowly, long whine tearing from your throat as he swallows you up inch by inch. The stretch of him has your body leaning forward with other hand curling around his jacket anxiously.

“Jesus.” Mr. Styles breathes with hand steadying your hips as he leans up, the tight feel of you around him makes his fingers curl deeper into your skin while you sink further onto his lap. “Bunny, fuck.” Your knees clench around his waist as you sigh pleasantly.

Plush walls nestle his throbbing cock gracing your sweet spot so heavenly that you’re shuddering against him. Your hips rubbing against his pelvis only increasing the fraction that has you crying out in satisfaction.

“Daddy, you fill me up so good.” Both hands gather up his arms and to the nape of his neck, your mouths lean forward breathing in each other's moans.

“You’re so tight bunny.” He follows your motions as your head knocks into his forehead.

You hum with your mouth going dry, eyes batting at him slowly as you find the strength to rise up on your knees and slowly grind yourself. Delicious spread of your pussy accepting every stride of him.

The combination of his spit and your juices leaves a squelching sob sound every time your hips meet. Walls flexing around every loving rhythmic stroke, whine high in the back of your throat as your fingers press deeply into his skin.

“So sweet, so dirty, just the way I like you.” Mr. Styles breathes over your lips. Your mouth catching his filthy words and swallowing them up loving the taste.

His grip over your hips guides your movements, eyes hanging low and watching every bounce of yourself riding him to the way your nose twitches. The thickness of him swells every crevice that succumbs to him filling you up. It’s leaving you numb with pleasure allowing him to draw you down in repetitive motions.

“I love the way you stretch around me, bunny” His lips curving the slope of your nose when you bow your head.

This moment was more than your dreams. The man that’s been fucking you in your every thought now helping you slide down his dick with such ease. Telling you just how he likes you, and how he loves the way you expand around him, he’s the best teacher. Your favorite one.

Lips collide in messy motions, slipping across each other with moans and groans trailing out. The hands of both of you sinking deeper and deeper as you both chase your highs.

The crinkles of leaves shift under your bodies, shadows of trees gracing across your bouncing breasts as Mr. Styles continues to guide your movements. Mouths catching along each other hurriedly with thighs twitching to curl deeper against him, the shock of stabs running down your neck causes your spine to bend at the feeling.

“Daddy… m’gonna…” Mouth parting away from him as your forehead drags along his cheek, breath coming out rushed as you feel your climax making itself known.

“Gonna come on daddy’s cock? You love my dick, don’t you?” His words deep in your ear making you lose all sense in your knees when going silk around him.

Your head twists deeper across his skin, eyes barely staying open as the squished grass amongst the floor bobs in your vision. Mr. Styles takes complete control over you as his hands keep your waist flexing around him.

Your pussy quivers and trembles from his words, adding fury to the spikes of arousal barreling down joyously. Your mouth hangs open, nails scratching into his skin as you continue feeling his cock tagging your cervix each time.

“Oh, fuck,” You moan completely distraught with stomach twitching. Your jerking hips take control of your weak motions as you find the strength to runt yourself into his lap.

Clit rubbing beautifully against the light bush along his pelvis chasing your high. You groan pleasantly at the head of his cock dragging across your sweet spot, your climax welcoming itself with your pussy contracting around him.

And instead of Mr. Styles guiding you back up his length he’s following your movements and thrusting into your hips. Piercing jabs adding to the sensation of pulsing shocks spreading through.

“Feel so good bunny,” He moans into your bobbing head, lips trailing down the hair matted to your shoulder. Sweet smell of your perfume gracing his nostrils that leaves him growling against your skin.

Fingers shake against his flexing shoulders, lips bitten and cracked letting air shallowly fill your lungs. Your pussy is bruised and sore from the girth of your teacher assaulting every inch that welcomes him.

“You’re so deep daddy,” Sweet voice running across his blushing skin. It’s damp with tiny strands connecting hair against his temples, his adam’s apple bobbing heavily with his fingers digging deeper into your skin; clear that your words affect him.

It’s your favorite thing to do with this game you play. How your words are so angelic yet dirty, leaving Mr. Styles, your boy toy and step-father vulnerable messes every time you're around. Cracked voices and growing erections always being your sight at just a simple bat of an eye. It’s so easy to have whoever you want be able to play.

It’s why you continue being alluring; dreamy moans carrying into his ears with hands sliding up into his hair, tousling every lock as you rotate your hips against his thrusts. The change in rhythm and pulsing beats of your pussy around Harry makes him hiss. Head dropping swiftly against your shoulder till you catch him quickly, nails tugging his head back as you peer into his eyes and ride his cock.

“Fuck me nice and wide,” Waist swiveling against his grip trying to strain your movements. Green eyes look up at your lips while his part in bliss accepting your heavenly pussy gracing him. “Stretch me so good daddy.”

Teasing breath fanning over his face as your breasts rub against the material of his jacket, your scent showers over him with your pussy wrapping around his cock deliciously, the sight clear of how he’s a slave to you and the way you make him feel.

“Don’t you want to fill me up?” Harry moans with eyes blinking slowly, his fingers beginning to loosen against your motions.

Your pussy coats his dick in creamy fluid adding to the pleasure of your walls dragging down him. Your fingers itch at his scalp, lips leaning towards his and nearly connecting as you smile.

“Don’t you want me to make you a daddy?”

Words having Mr. Styles whining high in his throat, hands twitching against your hips just as his seed spills into you. Fingers twitching and jaw tensing as he stares up in complete admiration. His waist stills against yours, eyes blinking slowly in a daze as you still grin at him, swiveling your hips and whispering sweet nothings.

“Such a thick load, sir.”

Hands relaxing around his curls while his fall from your waist, Harry’s sight completely enveloped by your words that he can’t help the lazy smile that tugs along his lips when you giggle at his expression.

“Mm… you’re really the best.” You hush, hips moving slowly as your chest begins to relax.

“It’s clear that’s up for debate.” Mr. Styles smirks, fingers feeling over the blades of grass below. But even if it’s a playful tease, his words taint your heart.

“It’s only you, I’m so serious sir,” You sigh, head shifting with bottom lip jutting out.

He gives you a pointed glare as if not believing you — not that he should, but it’s entertaining to make him jealous… teasing him just how you like. It’s why you find yourself rolling your eyes and raising up on your sore knees. The motion of you sitting off his lap and slipping him out turns his attention. His come drips out and flows down the expanse of his cock.

Humming delighted at the site, your hand trails out of his hair and between your legs. Fingers seeping into your pussy and catching the reminder of him onto your fingertips to carry into your mouth. Tongue welcoming the muted taste of your teacher and moaning playfully.

“Bunny.” He whines, eyes watching closely as you dip back between you both and collect the rest running down his cock and sucking them off your fingers again. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

The laugh that escapes you is adorable when you lean into his chest, hands moving to his shoulders and forcing him to fall back against the grass which he does gently. His own hands run down your spine as you shift around on his body.

“Wouldn’t that be amazing?” You sigh, fingers trailing up his neck and drawing along the definition of his jaw as he looks up at the sky.

The laugh that leaves the older man is light and cherished, one that has you smiling as you let his touch roam all over your skin.

His heart beats against your ear, lungs rising steadily with your bodies fitting together. The sun is still shining brightly with the breeze passing by every few moments. The quiet atmosphere of this area makes it feel private and safe.

“Sir?” Voice raised in question as your fingertip glides against the bridge of his nose just in time for him to hum in response.

“You never did tell me why you call me bunny?” Lips piercing together tightly as his touch begins to draw circles up your spine in swirls.

“Your eyes,” He whispers as he looks at the clouds passing across.

Your brows perk up at that. Your eyes? You knew they were quite alluring but not to that extent. Yet, that was the nickname that he gave you, the one feature that stood out the most to him. Not cherry, or baby like your other two flings.

“My eyes?” You reiterate. Head trailing off to the side as you pass your finger across his lips. The motion has him playfully biting on your nail till you’re retreating back to draw along his cheeks with a giggle.

“Yes… there so doe and soft, like a bunny. My bunny.” You hum acknowledging his words in admiration.

So that’s what he thought, that’s what stuck out the most. It was adorable and unique. So different compared to what you’re familiar with.

“When do you think we can do this again?” Your voice mutters against his chest. It makes Mr. Styles draw his hands away and lean up on his elbows.

His eyes go towards your shirt and grabs it, the material falls into your grip and you don’t hesitate to lean back and slip it over your head, sight still caught on the older man.

“I don’t know… it’s too risky,” His view looking over your naked thighs that hold his abdomen to the poor expression turning up over your face.

“Oh come on,” You huff, rolling your eyes and drawing away from his body. You twist off him with hands leaning towards your undergarments inches away.

“W —What are you getting all upset about? Even right now is pushing it,” His own actions cover himself back up as you scoff in response. “Don’t act like this.”

Another exaggerated sigh falls from your mouth before fixing your shorts around your hips, sight narrowing on the green streaks across your shirt before turning to look at the teacher now standing.

“I’ll act however I please,” You mumble, teeth clenching down on each other as Mr. Styles groans with annoyance, his hand stretching towards you but you’re quick enough to retreat back.

“So, even if it’s this spot for the exact same time?” You rephrase, heart knocking against your chest as you tangle your arms together.

“No Y/N, god… don’t you get it? Don’t you see my job on the line just to be here right now?”

“Fine.”

“Would you stop?”

“No.”

Your eyes watch every frustrated movement from the body parallel of you who bows his head in disbelief of the situation.

Of course he wants to see you again, of course he wants to wrap himself all around you but this puts too much stress over everything on his plate.

“Let’s just talk this over?”

“No, I’m good.”

Your teeth shining happily as you shift your head to the side and watch Mr. Styles inhale deeply. his body stepping closer still attempting to hold you.

“I’ll walk my way around to the front… you can go back from where you came from.” Simple nod of your head before your gracefully turning around beginning your departure. You’re trailing off so quickly he doesn’t even have the chance to catch you slipping through his fingers.

He just had you and now it’s already over.

Harry should’ve really expected this though. He should’ve anticipated your stubborn reaction to his words, he should’ve really thought over them because now you’re making his life a living hell.

You couldn’t wait a week, or even a couple days, you really couldn’t wait at all. Because the next afternoon you showed up to class five minutes late, walking through the door with a simple smirk on your lips and “sorry!” so sweet and delectable that he let you get away with it, of course he would, far as he knows he’s on punishment.

But, when you cut your eyes in a wicked glare did he realize who else was missing from the class, his own lacrosse player. Your heels echoed to your seat eerily to him amongst the shuffling of the other students, and when you sat in your chair with lips now a teasing grin did Luca soft knock sound on the door before he stepped in.

His collar was obnoxiously up high, clear what was litter amongst his skin. The sight had Harry clenching his jaw unbearably tight, his eyes going to you who conceitedly winked at him. It didn’t help that the other students began to snicker, adding to the fury of Harry turning his fingers in on themselves while continuing the class.

That was only the beginning though; now when passing in the halls you completely ignored him, acting as if he wasn’t there. When seeing you in the pillars of the school with Luca by your side, you made sure to wink at him, or sometimes Harry will see him drop you off to class, catching sight on his hands grabbing the skin he doesn’t deserve.

You continue showing up late; sometimes your boyfriend trailing behind, sometimes not. You stop raising your hand and involving yourself in class discussions and begin to pay attention to the birds outside or doodling in your book. Notes start being exchanged even more between you and the blonde classmate, one time you even left one on your desk that Harry took up.

Can I eat you out tonight?

Luca

His messy writing covered the paper that Harry closed his fist around. His feet stalked over to the garbage and threw it into the trash.

You’re fucking with him so badly, so terribly, why are treating him like this?

He doesn’t feel any better that he tried to be reasonable, trying to get you to understand that your endeavors couldn’t be consistent, it would be too much for the both of you.

But, it’s tempting… so tempting to want to pull you in after class and tell you that he’s done with your antics and to take him back. Go back to being his sweet bunny with doe eyes and bitten lips, go back to writing his nickname across the page of your test and showing him your sweet plump cheeks.

It’s already bad enough he’s coming into his hand every night just thinking about your pussy around him again. Your sweet voice telling him your dirty thoughts, the ones that have been on your mind since meeting. He wants more of you, he needs more honestly, and the way you’re acting isn’t helping him at all.

He can deal with you being with Luca because Harry knows deep down he doesn’t satisfy you the way you like. He’s certain you don’t fancy him much and is just using him to toy with his feelings, but he’ll accept that.

It’s Friday night and it’s the annual parent teacher meeting. Students in their pressed and polished uniforms standing alongside their parents as they walk across campus displaying to them their life while here.

Harry hasn’t seen you yet and he’s thankful, he’s suppose to meet your mother and he’s trying to keep his nerves at bay. His fingers are tapping timidly inside his pocket as he smiles at Gabriel's mother who boasts about the upcoming lacrosse tournament.

His eyes watch the way her skin folds over in wrinkles when she smiles happily, while her son looks annoyed and Harry can’t help the breathless laugh that leaves him when noticing.

“The boys have been putting in great work this year, I’m sure we’ll be getting the trophy.” Harry beams while Gabriel rolls his eyes at his teacher.

“It’s all he talks about when I call him… but, let’s me not keep you, we still have to see Mrs. Randall.” Fading auburn hair shifting with each nod of her head as she leaves the community hall looking for the science teacher.

It’s when the loving mother exits the door does he see his bunny slip in. Manicure and dazzling accessories shining over your shoulder as your mother walks into the room, and it isn’t the sight of her that has Harry shocked, no, it’s the man that steps through right after with tattoos littered in the revealing parts of his suit. All over his hands and up his neck, if Harry were to assume, he would be around his age, with thick beard growing in and slight tiredness swelling around his eyes.

He can tell from his appearance you don’t look quite similar, you resemble your mother more than anything but he doesn’t stare too long. Not with the way you begin to walk towards him with both parents on either side.

The chatter in the room is filled with other guardians and teachers making small talk either about the curriculum or the school's pretentious history, and somehow in all that noise it doesn’t seem to drown out the footsteps of bodies making their way over to him.

“Mr. Styles?” Thin lips of your mother sing in a cheerful tune as she sways from side to side.

He remembers you telling him about your mother. How she sent you to school once given the chance, yet she’s all bubbly and happy as if you have a place in her life, as if all the words you spoke were nothing but pure lies.

“Yes ma’am, that’s me!” Harry smiles softly, hand reaching out and she takes it genuinely. Soft touch enveloping him in a strong shake as he bows his head.

“You must be Y/N mother,” He continues, their hands parting as he looks down at you. For once your sight is looking up at him, your attention actually focus on him, and it makes Harry swallow heavily.

“She has told me so much about you, all very good things! Saying how you’ve made her enjoy history even, she was never quite fond of it in her past schoolings but, you’ve made it her favorite!”

His brows raise up at that, mouth parting slightly in shock before grinning happily looking between you and your mother. So, you’ve been telling her about him? And saying his teachings are your favorite subject. You’re confusing him with your hot and cold games, but it’s even worse that he enjoys being in the middle of it.

“I never knew she said that? I’m so happy to hear,” Harry smiles before his hand is turning towards the man to the left of you. “And you must be Mr—”

“—Malik.”

His words cut off the teacher to correct him but doesn’t stop them from their hands meeting, strong grip over each other as his brown eyes look over him longingly, examining every inch of him.

“My apologies…” Harry sighs before turning to your mother to divert his gaze from your step-father. “But yes, she’s doing amazing in class. I'm glad it’s become her favorite.”

And he sees the way your face begins to heat up, how your eyes watched every motion of him shaking your father’s hand as if stunned this moment is happening. Harry wants to laugh, he wants to chuckle in your face because of course he’s caught you again, lying about having a father figure, this is cold bunny.

“Oh! Mom, they have that sparkling juice I was talking about, the one you should use for the dinner?” Your voice enters the conversation nervously as you look towards her. Hand going to her elbow as you direct her to the assortment of drinks and snacks on the table under the bulletin board.

“Just one second!” Your mother smiles at Harry before letting you lead her away.

Before Harry can even admire the sight of you all flustered and caught up from your parents meeting the teacher you’ve been tormenting for months, the laugh next to him has his direction turning towards the heavily tattoo man.

“Isn’t she funny?” Mr. Malik asks, lips tugged to the side as he shuffles on his feet. Harry can’t help but take one of his hands out of its confines and cough into it.

“Yes, she has quite the humor,” He agrees, fingers running over his hips smoothly as he shifts his posture.

Your step-father is looking up at him with such a questioning glare that Harry can feel his ears begin to beat with warmth, his eyes dying to break the fight over whatever is crossing his mind.

You always have tricks up your sleeves, always have another way to shine your dazzling teeth to get away with something else, and it’s another one of those moments. Body turned away from your daddy and father ignoring the fact they’re in the same room.

Aren’t you a nervous little thing when all caught up? It’s quite adorable.

“Are you playing?”

The question draws Harry’s eyebrows together, lips parting and sight concentrated heavier on the man next to him.

“I’m sorry?”

“With cherry? Are you playing with her?”

Cherry? His bunny is cherry to him. Oh? So this is why you’re so nervous and looking more distraught than when he caught you with that note.

You’re not nervous at the fact Harry knows you lied about your parents, but the fact you already had a father figure in your life, one that plays with you already and does everything that he wants when given the chance. That’s why you ran away.

“Oh? I —I didn’t… I haven’t…” Harry’s voice trails off as his sight goes towards you pouring another glass of the grape juice for your mother to try.

“So, it’s true then?” His eyes trail back to the older man who holds a smug grin, and when his hand pats down on his shoulder roughly, it makes Harry let out an uncomfortable laugh.

“I must say… she does get what she wants.” Mr. Malik sight combs over the teacher before releasing his hold.

It has Harry relaxing and throat clear as his nose crinkles up. His bunny with someone else? He could get over Luca, he really could care less… but the man in front of him —the one you lied about so innocently— is standing before him not even surprised by the teachers place in your life, you’ve broken his heart bunny.

“Is she always like this?” Harry finds himself asking without thought, his brows relaxing as he tries to collect all the memories of everything you said from the first encounter.

“If you’re who she likes, yeah I guess… I’m not sure how it works in her head, she got me a few years ago…” Mr. Malik admits before breaking their gaze and looking over at you, and Harry can’t stop himself from doing it also. “You know, it really did catch me off guard when I found out about what she did first semester.”

Harry’s fingers curl in on themselves from hearing the truth. So it was all true, you did try to seduce a teacher, that’s why you’re at this school. That’s why you play this game with him, because you like this attention… you like having your way with the people you desire, you’re so dirty bunny.

“I didn’t know that,” He says, with hands crossing over his chest as he now leans against the brick wall. The relevance of the news has Mr. Malik turning, his eyebrows furrowed with a cheesy grin.

“Really?” He says with a shake of his head, body relaxing next to the teacher.

“I also didn’t know about you… I mean, being her father and all.”

“Step.” He emphasizes giving a pointed look, and Harry nods his head in acknowledgement.

“Yes, step-father.” He confirms before whistling weakly.

Your lies are finally spread out for the both of them to see. It really took today for him to see past everything and get the real information about you that he really wanted, the one he’s been seeking from the beginning.

His mind is a whirlwind of emotions and memories of what you both shared in such little time. “It’s only you, I’m serious sir.” Those were your words, said with such purity he believed you. But now it’s so clear how you like to be shared, how you like to be passed around for everyone.

Harry thought all this time that what you really needed was mentorship, soon that turned into some well deserved attention, but now, he thinks he sees your true intentions, the real reason why your eyes glimmer with happiness every time.

“I purpose we make some changes to her game,” Mr. Malik remarks, his white teeth showing as his lips stretch, and Harry can’t help but nod in agreement.

“I think we should make some new rules.”

#smuttyaf #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles #harry styles one shots #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #hs #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fandom #teacher!harry

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inchidentally · 4 months

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https://x.com/charlclerc/status/1749478427239891090?s=20

I think someone here missed the sight of a soaked Oscar <3

ok so big shock!! I'm gonna use this sweet little morsel of Lando pausing in his remaining winter break to look back on that glorious day

to create an absolute smorgasbord of what Suzuka meant to him and to Oscar

I've edited together the most chewable parts of the post race press conference tho tbh it's mostly just removing the parts where Max tries his best to put a slight new twist on answering the exact same questions as last weekend lgflajsg.

so at the start I love the little private smile Lando and Oscar share when Max's fanfare is going on - it gives me a little rueful but also slightly creepy twinning vestal virgins au like are we going to destroy him Lando? yes we are going to destroy him Oscar

(I AM NOT BEING SERIOUS IT'S JUST JOKES).

which is even funnier with what Max leads into about seeing these two goddamn McLarens sandwiching him and for a split second thinking ah so they want to destroy me? oh dear. like Max is very at home on that couch but the presence of these two creatures sharing covert smiles with each other has him (and probably a lot of that room) uneasily wondering if that's all y'know, normal and above board? they're not like... witches, right? haha. crazy!

and I think the cool meticulous way Lando treats his own performance is a really good example of how (in my opinion!) his self-flagellation does need to be reeled in because he's never the sort to be soaring high enough to compensate for those lowest lows. for a while I was undecided but honestly I agree with Martin Brundle, Jenson Button and Oscar who've said (in different ways and indirectly from Oscar) that Lando is far too level-headed and race smart to be hanging his own tender hide out like he does. I so appreciate how measured he was in self-approval over his back to back podiums and no one's asking him to get cocky, but I'd really love to see him match this approach to when he struggles as a driver (and not just a car issue which was the case pre Silverstone).

contrast that with Oscar discussing his own self-criticisms of the weekend but equally saying he'll still relish the maiden podium. and crucially that he can fairly put at least part of his struggles - which he was also meticulous about - down to this being his first time racing at Suzuka. an anon sent an ask about Andrea praising Oscar specifically for his performance there and you can really feel the influence Andrea has had throughout the season on Oscar. because before Silverstone, Oscar had a tendency to monotone lowness and disappointment in himself that bordered dangerously on bitterness and maybe even a fear/doubt of how his rookie season would indeed turn out? but Andrea's approach of optimism, faith in teamwork and specifically in making sure Oscar was looked after while Lando naturally performed so much better, absolutely sank in.

and it makes sense that Oscar as a rookie has so much more mental plasticity when it comes to outside influence - and says a lot about Andrea's leadership too. it's where I wish Lando could have had Andrea as principal from day one too. bc understandably, Lando has graduated to that level of knowing himself so well as a driver relative the drivers around him that there's an existing almost prejudice about himself that the people in charge of guiding him have to overcome.

literally everyone who knows and who matters has said how similar Lando and Oscar are in terms of their approach to the car and their dedication to the team. and I know Andrea has shielded Lando in his own way by saying that it's a champion's mentality to have as much passion and emotion as Lando does. but - and this is honestly such a great piece about Andrea go read it and thank you again to @mecachrome for repping him so much - he also emphasized the positivity that was so crucial to pushing the team through those awful early races. I don't at all blame Lando for getting a bit grim toward himself at times thinking not only about that first race win but also the championship. but I also really hope that between Andrea and Oscar (source: Lando himself!) he can use the lifts of his highs to not sink so low anymore.

skipping back to around the minute mark when Lando says how much more this second place means to him than Singapore because of the double podium and also because of his own performance being better. not to get too ~contentious~ but this is why I really have needed the Singapore high to wear off as fast as it did for Lando when people are discussing Lando's 2023 as a driver and not as part of a ship. absolutely still revel in it in an rpf sense! but like, real life Lando is intensely loyal to his team and y'know what else? he's intensely loyal to loyalty. which is precisely what Oscar has been proving to McLaren since signing that pre-contract the summer before. it took an entire court case for Oscar to get to McLaren and he was met with a wall of hate coming from three sides. comment sections were filled with people celebrating McLaren's 2023 initial struggles and vilifying Oscar for how much he was costing them (in every sense) for paying out Daniel. and it was the Suzuka weekend when Oscar agreed immediately to extend his contract further.

Lando had a front row seat for all of that once the season started. and considering how few races Oscar's dad and Lily were able to make due to being on the other side of the world and final year of school respectively, Oscar spent a fair amount of that time getting to grips with being in F1, and the particular pressure and stress from media and fans, largely alone in terms of a private life. so it says so much about how well he was repaid by the team and also by Lando for keeping his cool and putting in the extra hours and keeping the faith.

and around 2 mins "we have two drivers up fighting for those positions" "we can help one another and use one another". that tandem the two of them have achieved before the season is even over was largely formed when the car was fighting against them. as was the case with Carlos and then Daniel and truly every other F1 driver, Lando did NOT have to intervene or take on a specific responsibility toward Oscar. F1 drivers aren't pack animals, they move through their careers alone and are happy if they can be buddies with their partner. so to see Lando as the number one show faith in Oscar and stand up for him and receive that trust and faith in return is so unique. Lando controlled that as much as Andrea did - maybe even more considering how he says he feels Oscar is so similar to him in a lot of ways. it's not uncommon for charismatic guys like Lando, Carlos and Daniel to make friends with their team mate.

but I think the whole "Lando effect" thing has actually been a huge disservice to what Lando has put into the partnership with Oscar. in this interview early on in the season, he says how Oscar is really quiet and that it's just how most people are in their first year and "we'll change him". but as we've seen, Oscar didn't end up changing and funnily enough the hanging out he and Lando do off the track has been as private and only alluded to as the rest of Oscar's private life. Lando got a lot of Oscar on his camera (again, a lot we haven't gotten to see yet) but really there was no big transformation in terms of Oscar becoming one of the charismatic personalities of the grid. and yet he and Lando only got closer and more supportive of each other in all the ways that matter to a partnership. so I think it's a much bigger credit to Lando that he learned to understand Oscar's personality better and still found ways to establish that sense of trust and loyalty without a bromance or a bunch of common interests to act as glue.

when they do that slightly eerie, intense active listening when the other is speaking, it's them having a synchronicity that has nothing to do with how guys usually bond. (that's why my vestal virgins au yes I know it's weird)

Lando wasn't in any position of power for any of that to be relevant with Carlos or Daniel - Carlos was so far advanced already in his career and Daniel had his thing going on w McLaren that Lando had no control over (and rightly didn't respond to people demanding he show some kind of shame?? or partake in the blame). so loyalty never really played a part in his partnerships with those two, whereas (and maybe as a result of that) Lando's loyalty to McLaren as a team only grew each season. so seeing someone close to his own age but far behind in experience, work so hard and prove so early on that he wants to stay, absolutely brought out a pride from Lando for Oscar that I really hope he will also extend to himself more. major Zak Brown levels of back pats to Lando.

and side note but it needs to no longer be a question or point of contention when Lando says that Silverstone and then the double podiums are superior races for him. Lando loves his F1 buddies, absolutely. but Lando didn't burn through junior championships by favoring his buddies. he loves racing and his team more. and he sure didn't get that second place podium in Singapore because of a buddy, it was because of the position he'd put himself in. just like how Carlos would have given DRS to anyone behind him who was on older tires like he was to ensure that win. like, let's remember the manic obsession that has brought these men to where they are. buddies are a part-time thing. rpf is my meat and drink but I'll never confuse it up with that reality lol.

4:45 the Senna-Prost comparison - and I could probably get all deep about the youngest generation referring to those old bitter alpha male rivalries as something long gone (but I won't). but it's a really good call-back to Monza and the coming together because there's Oscar's ability to see his performance clearly and where it went wrong for him leading to that third place and not higher. and god, I am in no way saying that it's possible to compare Lando being in his fifth season without a race win to a rookie celebrating his first podium. I just really hope that Lando reminds himself that he's come of age in F1 in the Max Verstappen era and that in the cool down room at Qatar, Oscar giddily thanked Mercedes for clearing a path for him. that it doesn't always have to be pure perfection and pace to keep him afloat. sometimes points are points and serendipity plays her part.

"I've been drowned by Lando in champagne" god I will never be over Lando's smug toothy smile

and I will also never be over the way Lando went from clearly dreading being the "older/experienced" teammate and not knowing what to make of Oscar's quiet, reserved personality, to the intense proprietary authority of practically holding Oscar up by his collar like a prize cat in Suzuka and saying "this is mine! I helped make this what it is! look how good this is!"

all while baptizing him in champagne <3

#inchreplies #inchidentallyanessay #landoscar

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landwriter · 2 years

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Sandman prompt: Dreamling roadtrip

"Remind me why I am allowing this," says Dream.

Hob casts a sidelong glance at him. Dream, in his car. Dream, stuck in the crawl of London traffic with him. Imagine that.

He reels off Dream's succession of unfortunate choices with poorly smothered glee. "Because your sister said you should spend more time among us humans, which you mentioned in passing to Matthew yesterday, who suggested a road trip, then had to explain to you that a road trip meant 'Just driving somewhere for a while', and you apparently you said-," Hob pauses to pitch his voice as low and poncy as possible, "'Ah, a pilgrimage, then. A journey for self-knowledge.' And Matthew said 'That's right, boss' and you said you would, in fact, be curious about such an experience."

"False pretenses," says Dream, darkly, under his breath.

"Indeed," says Hob, who thinks he loves false pretenses now. Matthew had shown up at his flat laughing so hard he couldn't even speak. When he finally recounted the conversation (after Hob had gotten very concerned and asked if Matthew needed a human counselor or an animal vet, and Matthew had shaken his head and wheezed 'No, a driver', before falling into fits of laughter again), Hob had immediately agreed.

"And then I canceled my plans for the weekend because I'm the only human you know who has a car, it turns out," (A reliable and bright red Vauxhall Corsa, thank you for asking.) "And because I'm a very good friend," he adds. He still relishes the new-word feel of it. It had only been four months since Dream had shown up at The New Inn. Hob was skiving off marking midterm papers for this, actually.

"Yes," says Dream. Hob realizes he'd skive off the whole term for this.

How could he turn down the prospect? His friend, literally strapped into the Corsa for at least the next several hours. Assuming Dream didn't leap out and flee on foot down the M1 - which seemed so thoroughly undignified for a being of Dream's station that Hob felt utterly assured of his company. It had all rather gone to his head.

"This will be fun," he promises. "Feel the grass under your feet, and that."

Dream looks out the window bitterly as a lorry overtakes them. Hob has never been the fastest of drivers. Never really took to it, to be honest. Bit of the medieval peasant in him, he thinks, can't quite make himself go over fifty miles per hour. But he's very safe. Hardly any accidents. Mostly minor rear-end damage.

"I see no grass," says Dream.

"Surely the Lord of Stories is familiar with figurative speech," says Hob, and glows under the heat of Dream's glare in reply.

"Anyways," he continues, "We're getting to that bit. Literally. In, uh, six hours or so? It's a great spot. But in the mean time, this is part of it too." Hob takes a hand off the wheel to gesture with a flourish at the sea of sensible hatchbacks and work vans around them, swimming like fish in the asphalt rivers of London's outer burbs. "Humanity," he pronounces, and the car drifts a little into the next lane. Humanity honks rudely at him and then accelerates safely out of Hob's radius.

Dream's sulking seems to have pushed him fully into the realm of catatonia, because Hob's passengers are usually more animated when he does exciting little things like that. Hob looks over in concern and this time the car barely follows with him.

"Bit rusty," he offers.

Dream deigns to snort softly at that. "My sister is far worse," he says.

Hob raises his eyebrows. It was hard to imagine Death bad at anything, frankly. Dream must see his look because he clarifies.

"Another sister. Delirium. An official of the carriageway stopped us. He would not have us continue our passage. So she gave him delusion of bugs crawling across his skin. Forever."

"Well, that's one way to get out of a ticket," says Hob, and makes a mental note to ask Death for a complete list of siblings and how to avoid angering them.

"He was being rude," adds Dream. He suddenly sounds very much like an older brother.

"Oh, fair play, then," says Hob affably. He'd had little sisters once. He understood.

They drive in silence for a few minutes. Hob thinks about putting on a playlist, and has just decided that nineties Britpop is perfect for this occasion when they pass a junction sign and he exclaims in recognition.

"The M25! Funny story, I know just the loveliest antiquarian book dealer who says his partner - uh, I'm assuming there, but if you heard the way he talks about him - anyways, his partner designed it. Some kind of high-flying civil engineer, I reckon."

"Really," says Dream. "A...high-flying...civil engineer." He sounds fascinated.

Hob hadn't expected Dream to be interested in road design.

"Something like that, definitely," he says, looking over to see Dream, staring at him, rapt. He looks back and brakes just in time to avoid hitting the car in front of him as it turns off onto the motorway in question. "Sorry. Saw him once in passing, actually. Dresses like you. Very fancy and dark."

"Perhaps you should keep your focus on the road, Hob," says Dream, but he sounds like he's smiling.

"Oh, we're not for a while yet," says Hob. Half truth, half optimism.

"Where are we going?" asks Dream. Hob beams. He's just won a bet with Matthew.

"It's a surprise" he says. "Now, have you heard of this band called Oasis?"

#asks #the sandman #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #prompt fill #my writing #road trip fic is a timeless genre #hob is making it up as he goes #hob def has multiple routes in mind depending on how long dream is willing to abscond with him #hey fellas is it gay to want to drive across the country with your best friend #(hey fellas is it gay to hope you'll have to stay the night at a village inn and be mistaken for a couple)

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fortheloveofwonderland · 11 months

Text

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 7 | S.R

Not my gif

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - sorry it has been so long since I updated this, I have not have the impetus to write this fic but I am trying to restart it. Massive thank you to @reidselle for encouraging me to start writing this again and for reading chapters and discussing ideas with me, you are an angel 🖤

Chapter Summary - Spencer’s still reeling from the aftermath of his drunken mistake. With Luke’s words playing on his mind, he starts to realise his feelings towards his broken marriage aren’t as black and white as he thought.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - mentions of affairs, Spencer questions everything, swearing.

WC - 5.1k

Chapter 7 - All At Once

And all at once the crowd begins to sing,

Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same.

Maybe you want her, maybe you need her,

Maybe you started to compare to someone not there.

The weekend's events had taken so much out of Spencer he didn’t have a chance to call you and apologise for his drunken behaviour.

In fact, if he was perfectly honest, with everything else going on he’d completely pushed it to the back of his mind.

On Sunday he spent the day at the mall with the girls in an attempt to cheer Daisy up.

Spencer loathed shopping. He only went shopping when he absolutely had to. Malls were too busy for his liking and most things were overpriced. But Daisy and Lily loved to shop, mostly because it wasn’t their hard earned money they were spending.

He spent the day traipsing after them, lugging bags full of their hauls around while they ran from shop to shop excitedly.

He practically brought Daisy a whole new wardrobe while Lily damn near put the toy store out of business.

They ate pretzels in the food court while Spencer rested his aching arms from being their designated bag carrier.

Lily fell asleep on the car ride home surrounded by all her new toys while Daisy excitedly looked over her new clothes.

He spent hundreds of dollars trying to make up for the way Maeve had hurt her. He even let the girls talk him into buying an even bigger, plusher and more expensive bed for a dog he hated who never slept in his own bed anyway.

By the time they made it home he was exhausted. He was too tired to cook so he ordered pizza which they ate in the living room while they rewatched Encanto for what had to be the fiftieth time.

When he put them to bed they were both singing We Don’t Talk About Bruno, which Spencer also had stuck in his head when he crawled into his own bed.

He also found himself humming it absent-mindedly in the shower the next morning, mentally cursing his girls for making him sit through that movie again.

It was still whirring its way around his brain while he made the girls breakfast.

He drove them to school after breakfast and dropped Taco off at the kennel and it was only after he was finally alone, his thoughts fell back to his monumentally stupid drunken mistake.

Checking his watch and seeing he had time before he had to be on campus he made a pit stop at the florists.

It was a good job he had time to spare because he spent an unfathomable amount of time staring at a wide variety of flowers in various colours.

He must have looked utterly lost as a young girl soon came over and asked if he needed help.

Yes, he most certainly did.

“I uh…I need something that says I’m sorry.” He toyed awkwardly with the strap of his satchel.

The girl gave him a slightly playful smile.

“You wouldn’t believe how often we get people in here looking for the exact same thing.”

“What would you recommend?”

“Well, lilies are great for apologising as they can express a new chapter. But roses are really romantic. White orchids are also good as they represent sincerity. And blue hyacinths look stunning in an apology bouquet.” She motioned around the various flowers she was describing while Spencer stared wide eyed in confusion.

“Uh…” he scratched the back of his neck. “All of them. Just put all of them in a bouquet. A huge one. It doesn’t matter what it costs.”

“Sure.” She looked a little startled by his choice, most guys just went for whatever was cheapest.

She admired his decision.

Spencer tapped his foot in the ground while the girl went about fashioning a giant bouquet of whites and blues and reds and yellows.

She tied them all off in a big red ribbon and looked proud by her creation.

Admittedly it did look beautiful and Spencer knew next to nothing about flower arranging.

He paid two hundred dollars for the privilege and thanked the young girl before hurrying out of the store barely able to see over the large array.

He quickly stopped at a coffee house and ordered an extra large cinnamon latte which was your favourite.

The flowers took up the whole front seat of the car and the smell was overwhelming so he had to drive with the windows open.

He felt heads turning and eyebrows furrowed into frowns as he got out of his car with the huge bouquet. It was like a large flashing beacon that he’d fucked up.

He tried to ignore all the eyes on him as he waited for you outside the psychology building, flowers in one hand, coffee in the other.

The weather was desperately trying to warm up and was slowly succeeding and the morning sun beating down on him made sweat gather at his temples.

The nerves didn’t help.

You couldn’t have looked any less amused when you spotted him, only just able to see him over the almost comically large bunch of flowers.

If he wasn’t standing right outside the building you needed access to, you would have walked any other direction to avoid him.

You clenched your jaw tightly and hugged your purse close to your body as you approached him.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke the second you were in earshot. “I am so, so sorry. I was drunk, not that that’s an excuse but I was. I had a bad day and I was a fucking idiot. I am so, so sorry Y/N.”

You didn’t say anything. Not a word. Honestly you didn’t have anything to say that wouldn’t either be fuck you or go to hell.

He proffered the flowers towards you.

“I’m really, really sorry.” He pouted a little.

He did look apologetic, almost pathetically so and there was a part of you that felt sorry for him.

Not a big enough part to forgive him though.

You took the flowers from his hand and Spencer momentarily believed things were going to be ok.

But then you dropped the bouquet on the floor and stamped heavily on them with your heeled boot.

You didn’t stop there.

You took the coffee out of his hand, removed the lid and poured the scalding liquid all over the crushed pile of flowers.

Spencer’s face fell.

“Oh come on, that was two hundred dollars worth of flowers.” He groaned, shoulders slumping.

“You think coffee and flowers are going to make up for what you did?” You spat at him.

“Not entirely. But I thought it might be a start.” He shrugged meekly, toying with his satchel.

“Well it isn’t.” You stomped on the flowers again. “You were a world class asshole, Spencer. You do not get to show up at my apartment drunk in the middle of night and try to force me into bed! And the things you said to me…I am not a fling. I am not looking to be a casual hook up and if that’s all you want then you should find someone else.”

“Y/N, I didn’t mean for you to-“

“Go to hell, Doctor Reid.” You cut him off, stamping on the flowers one more time for good measure. “Respectfully, go to hell.”

He watched you storm past him inside the building, knowing nothing he could say was going to make this better.

He’d really fucked this one up. And he had no idea how to fix it.

***

He left a cinnamon latte for you every single day for the next week in Monroe’s classroom.

He left post it notes on your car that told you how sorry he was.

He tried at every available opportunity to tell you to your face how sorry he was but every time you caught a glimpse of him, you would turn and walk in the opposite direction.

He didn’t blame you. But he wished you would give him a chance to explain.

Not that there was much to explain. He was drunk and he’d been forceful. He’d said horrible things to you.

An explanation wasn’t really warranted.

But that didn’t mean he was going to give up. He wasn’t giving you up without a fight.

It didn’t matter that the two of you had only been on one date, you were all he could think about. You’d left a lasting impression in his heart and he wasn’t letting you just walk away.

But he knew he couldn’t keep pushing you. You had to want to talk to him. If he kept trying to force you forgive him, he would end up pushing you away.

He had to give it time and hope that you would come to forgive him on your own.

In lieu of making things up with you, he had made up with Luke, even if slightly begrudgingly.

They’d talked on the phone for the best part of a whole evening after the girls were asleep. Luke apologised for the way things had come out. He hadn’t meant them quite as they sounded

Spencer in turn apologised for reacting the way he had, even though he still felt he was completely justified.

Luke surprised him somewhat when he asked him, “did you ever really deal with Maeve’s affair?”

“What do you mean?” Spencer frowned, putting his feet up on his desk and leaning back in his chair.

“When you talk about it, you always talk about the effect it had on your kids but never how it affected you.” Luke was in full on profiler mode. Spencer had heard that voice countless times.

“The fact that it affected my kids, affected me.” Spencer’s frown deepened.

“I know you say it was a marriage of convenience but you were together a long time, Reid. You must have had some kind of feelings for her. It must have hurt.” Luke’s tone was soft yet held a hind of accusation.

“Not especially.” Spencer shrugged.

“Spencer,” Luke’s timbre shifted. “The woman you spent a large portion of your life with cheated on you. Your house is still like a goddamn shrine to the life you used to have. And you’ve never gotten over your anger towards her. I think that’s because she hurt you more than you want to admit. You like to pretend you didn’t love her and that you’re unaffected by what happened because you think it’s easier to deal with if you pretend it doesn’t hurt. But sometimes, pain needs to be felt.”

“Have you ever thought about being a therapist?” Spencer rolled his eyes and sat up in the chair. “I’m fine Luke. I’m angry because she tore my family apart. I’m angry because my kids now only get to see their mother twice a month. I’m angry because I had to reevaluate my whole life after she left.

But I’m not hurt, I’m not heartbroken. And my house is not a shrine. I work and when I’m not working I’m taking care of my daughters and now some stupid dog too. I’ve been meaning to call Morgan to help me renovate it. I just haven’t had time.”

“If you insist.” Luke sighed. “I won’t keep pushing it. But just know I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

“I know. Thanks. But I really am fine.” Spencer stood up and stretched his back. “I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah no worries. Talk soon.” Luke replied and then hung up.

Spencer kept his phone in his hand and typed out a quick text to you, almost identical to the ones he’d sent you every night this week.

📲 Y/N Y/L/N: I’m still so sorry. I miss you. Please talk to me. Goodnight, beautiful.

He checked in on the girls who were both sleeping soundly before having a quick shower and crawling into his own bed.

And once again, he dreamt of you.

***

It was probably for the best that you weren’t talking to him and that he hadn’t made plans with you for his child free weekend because he didn’t get a child free weekend.

He picked Lily and Daisy up from school on Friday and drove them to Maeve’s only for Daisy to refuse to get out of the car.

“Pumpkin, it’s your weekend with your mom, you have to go.” Spencer turned in his seat to face her.

“No.” She spoke stubbornly. “I don’t want to see her.”

“You can’t stay mad at her forever.” Spencer leaned over the centre console and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yes I can.” She huffed.

“Why don’t you want to see mommy?” Lily spoke up from the backseat.

“Because I hate her.” Daisy stomped her foot on the floor.

“Daisy, please don’t say that in front of your sister.”

“Why? It’s true.”

Spencer sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“What about if Taco comes to mommy’s with you?” It would be doing him a favour too.

“Yes! Let’s go get Taco!” Lily beamed.

“No!” Daisy raised her voice. “I’m not going in there and you can’t make me!”

She was right, he couldn’t.

So in the end Lily had stayed at Maeve’s and Daisy had come home with Spencer.

It was strange just having one of the girls, it wasn’t often the two were apart. It was almost like the days before Lily was born.

He cooked dinner for the two of them and they ate ice cream for dessert.

Daisy sat in Spencer’s office with him, laying on the floor with Taco while he graded papers.

Usually Spencer liked to work alone, the kids rarely came in his office. But he found the sounds of Daisy cooing over the dog relaxing and every now and again when he heard her giggle over the mutt it made his heart swell in his chest.

“Are you having fun there, pumpkin?” He asked her with an amused smile as he scrawled some notes on one of his students papers.

“Yeah, Taco is the best.” She giggled, giving Taco a belly scratch which he adored. “And it’s nice and quiet, like before Lily was born.”

Spencer’s pen dropped from his hand as he looked at the back of his daughter's head where she laid on her front on the floor, her thick dark hair tied up on the back of her head.

“What?” He frowned a little, thinking he must have misunderstood her.

She rolled over onto her back and propped herself up on her one good arm.

“I miss it sometimes. Before Lily was born and it was just you, me and mom. Did mom have an affair because of Lily?” She asked curiously.

Spencer tried to hide his shock, knowing his daughter could read his features.

He pushed himself up from his chair and rounded the desk, coming over to where Daisy and Taco laid.

He lowered himself carefully to the floor, grimacing a little as an ache spread through the old injury in his leg.

He sat next to her, stretching his legs out across the dark carpet.

“What your mom did was neither of your faults. You know that, don’t you?”

Daisy shrugged.

“Why did you have Lily? I miss being an only child.” She changed the subject.

“She’s your sister, don’t say that, please.”

“We were happy before Lily.” Daisy shrugged again, crossing her legs and pulling Taco into her lap.

“And we were happy after Lily too.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she instinctively leaned into her fathers body.

“Do you think mom would have cheated on you if you didn’t have Lily?”

“I don’t know, pumpkin.” He sighed, pulling her closer. “But Lily isn’t the reason she cheated. And neither are you. I guess…I guess I just couldn’t make her happy.”

“It’s not that I don’t love Lily.” Daisy tugged at Taco’s ear. “I just miss having all of your love.”

Spencer felt his heart tear in half. He moved his hand from around her shoulder and cupped her jaw gently, guiding her to look at him.

“Daisy,” he spoke seriously. “Just because I love your sister, it didn’t for a second make me love you any less, ok? You’re my baby girl, the first time I held you in my arms I felt like I could breathe properly for the first time in my life. The first time you looked at me, I finally knew the reason I was put on this Earth. And that was to love you and be your father. Please never think I could love you any less. You are my whole world ok, pumpkin?”

He felt choked up by the end of his speech and he noticed Daisy had tears in her eyes.

She was quick to sit back and wipe her eyes on her sleeve.

“God, mushy much dad?” She scoffed and Spencer chucked.

He leaned in and placed another kiss at her temple.

“Love you too, pumpkin.” He laughed against her skin.

***

Spencer found Luke’s words were taking up too much space in his brain.

When he awoke Saturday morning he laid in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling and just enjoying a moment of peace before Daisy woke up.

Although it wasn’t all that peaceful.

He was ruminating on Luke’s implications of him living in a shrine.

It wasn’t as though Spencer meant to do that. He really hadn’t had the time to even think about redecorating.

Ok, maybe that wasn’t true. He had thought about it, quite often in fact. But there was always some kind of blocker between the thought and the action. For whatever reason, he’d never gotten over that hurdle of actually making a change.

But it wasn’t because he was clinging to his old life. He didn’t pine over his broken marriage, he didn’t wish for Maeve to see sense and come home.

But maybe there was a small chance that the reason he’d held off for so long was partly due to the fact that once he changed the house, there was no going back.

If he decorated it was effectively shattering his dreams of the future he’d planned even though, really, those dreams had been destroyed over a year ago.

Had he really been grasping at his old life so hard and not even realised?

Something had to change.

After breakfast he and Daisy went to the hardware store and he let her pick out a new paint for the living room.

It wasn’t much but it was a start. It was something to prove he wasn’t living in a shrine to his ex-wife.

Initially she’d chosen a gawdy bright green shade but thankfully Spencer had talked her down to a much more eye pleasing sage.

The two of them spent the day painting the room, well Spencer did most of it while Daisy kept getting distracted by Taco. And Daisy did only have one good arm, which she kept reminding him.

But by the time he was finished he felt accomplished. The new colour was much more his style than the buttermilk yellow Maeve had painted the walls when they moved in.

The only room he’d really aided in decorating was his office with its dark walls, leather desk chair and dark oak desk and bookshelves.

He’d still be working at the BAU when they moved in and as such wasn’t around much to help make decorating decisions.

He’d never disliked the way she’d designed the house but maybe it never quite felt like home as it should have.

The sage green walls felt more cosy. It was reminiscent of his old apartment, the apartment he’d loved so much. He felt comfortable with a darker aesthetic, which was probably strange but to Spencer it felt more homely.

Spencer always felt more at ease in darkness, he decided not to dwell too long on that thought and what that meant about his mental state.

He should call Morgan and have him gut this place and start again from scratch. But he wasn’t quite ready to take that step. And not because he was pining over his old life.

He didn’t know why. But not everything needed to have a reason.

Once the painting was done and feeling much more satisfied with his living situation, he cooked dinner for the two of them and after he let Daisy choose a movie which he fell asleep halfway through.

The closing credits woke him and he rubbed his eyes before focusing on Daisy who had her smartphone pointing at him.

“What are you doing?” He grumbled, feeling the weight of the dog was laying on his chest.

“Taking pictures.” She giggled.

“Why?” He shuffled up the couch a little.

“You look funny.” She snapped one more picture before her dad got mad.

“How do I look funny?” He scooted the dog off of him and sat up properly, rubbing his eyes again.

“See for yourself.” She handed him her phone and he stared at the photograph of his sleeping form, mangy dog sleeping soundly on him.

But that’s not what he was looking at.

“For the love of god!” He groaned, jumping up and dashing to the mirror by the door.

“The paint must still have been wet.” Daisy giggled again.

Spencer had two very distinctive sage coloured doggy paw prints on his face and many more covering his shirt.

He glanced around and saw a spot on the wall near the TV where the idiotic mutt had put his front paws in the wet paint.

There was a trail of the sage prints in the carpet from the wall to the couch.

“This is why I didn’t want a freaking dog.” Spencer huffed as he made his way to the kitchen to clean his face. “What time is it?”

“Uh…eight?” Daisy sounded unsure of herself.

“Which means it’s actually later than that and you don’t want to tell me because you don’t want to go to bed.” He chuckled, wiping his face with some kitchen paper.

“No.” Daisy whined. “Not true.”

“You know I’m wearing a watch, right?” As he said this he glanced at it and saw it was a little after ten. “Bedtime missy.”

“Boo!” Daisy sulked.

He finished up cleaning his face, thankful the paint seemed to come off easily and came back through to the living room where his stubborn daughter sat vigil on the couch.

“Come on, pumpkin. I can read to you if you like? We haven’t done that in a while.”

She pulled a face like she was contemplating this for a moment or two.

“Can Taco come to bed with me?”

“Sure, why not. It’s not like I’ve brought him two dog beds or anything.” He sighed.

Daisy happily picked up the little dog and carried him upstairs where she set him on her bed.

Spencer sat with him while she went through to the bathroom to change and brush her teeth.

He tucked her in and Taco curled up by her side.

Spencer slotted himself on the small part of the empty mattress that was left and Daisy handed him a book.

He read to her until she was sound asleep, snoring a little. She got that from her mother.

He kissed her forehead and switched off the light before creeping from the room.

He thought about having a drink but he was still ashamed of his actions the last time he drank so he decided against it.

He pulled out his phone as he flopped to the couch and sent you a text.

📲 Y/N Y/L/N: I really am so sorry. Please can we talk? I miss your voice. Goodnight, beautiful.

Spencer stared at the freshly painted wall and the paw prints left in it, still having Luke’s words swirling around his brain.

He didn’t love Maeve. He wasn’t heartbroken over her infidelity. He didn’t need to deal with what she’d done because he hadn’t affected him. Had it?

Somehow he found himself on his feet and moving books aside on the bookshelf that shielded his gun safe.

He hadn’t actually kept a gun in it for years, not since he left the bureau. But old habits die hard.

He entered the combination and opened the thick metal door. His hand shook a little as he pulled out the photo album kept hidden inside.

It was white once but was dirtied from fingerprints over the years. It was a little scuffed around the edges but that was probably from him stuffing it inside the safe that was just a little too small for it.

Spencer didn’t know why he kept in there. He supposed it was because he didn’t want the kids stumbling across it and having to look at it before he was ready, before he had the capacity to take this particular trip down memory lane.

He hadn’t even thought about the album in the year since he’d put it in there. He’d physically locked it away whilst mentally locking away the memories that went with the photographs.

He took it back over to the couch and tentatively flipped to the first page.

The first photograph depicted an unusually sunny fall day outside of DC city hall. Spencer wore a suit from his closet and Maeve wore a simple white summer dress, her pregnant belly very noticeable with the slim fitting nature of the dress.

They both smiled brightly while Morgan snapped the photograph of them showing off their matching gold wedding bands, Spencer’s free hand cupping her stomach that housed baby Daisy.

He saw no doubts in his eyes, no hint that he was only marrying this woman because he’d gotten her pregnant. He looked genuinely elated to be married. He didn’t remember ever feeling that happy.

On the next page was a series of photos with the backdrop of a hospital room.

Images of Spencer fussing over Maeve while she was in labour, a slightly fretful look on his features.

There was a photo of Maeve with the newborn on her chest, seconds after she was born and Daisy was held by her mother for the first time.

Another of Spencer in the worn leather chair next to the bed with the tiny seven pound baby cradled in his arms as tears streamed down his cheeks.

There were a couple more of the three of them together in the hospital room and as they left the hospital the following day, Spencer and Maeve held hands while his free one carried Daisy in her rocker.

The look on Spencer’s face in each one could only be described as pure bliss.

There were pictures of Daisy with each member of her new family, with her Aunties Emily, JJ and Penelope and her Uncles Derek and Aaron and grandpa Dave.

There were photographs from a few weeks later when they’d travelled to Vegas so Diana could meet her granddaughter.

Diana’s smile when she held Daisy for the first time was the brightest he’d ever seen on his mother. She’d been lucid that day, thank god, and had cried and cooed over the gorgeous little bundle her son had created.

Other photographs of Daisy’s first steps, her first time on the potty, her first Christmas and birthdays littered the pages.

Birthday cakes and presents wrapped for a child too young to understand what they were.

Gaudy Christmas jumpers set against the backdrop of an overly decorated tree. Paper hats from crackers adorned on heads. A small child overstimulated by a holiday she couldn’t comprehend.

And in every single one he and Maeve looked so happy. The images showed them sharing loving looks, exchanging soft touches.

If the photos didn’t exist, Spencer wouldn’t have believed it. His memories didn’t allow him to recall the joyful moments, only the hurt and the anger.

Even as he looked at them he struggled to remember ever feeling the way the man in the photographs looked.

The further into the album he got showed Maeve’s belly growing for the second time and more hospital photographs with Lily featuring Aunty Tara, and Uncles Luke and Matt.��

More holiday photos lined the pages, this time with Daisy helping her sister open her presents.

Lots of photos of the two girls together riddled the pages. Daisy holding Lily’s hand while she learnt to walk, Daisy reading to her little sister. Daisy cuddling her new little sister and beaming proudly.

They looked like the perfect family, smiling for the camera. But what was hiding beneath? Were they ever really happy at all?

About a year after Lily’s birth, the photographs just stopped. The empty pages at the end of the album taunted Spencer.

They just stopped. Ended with no warning. It was as though all the happy, smiling faces of the pages before had died.

Maybe they had.

Tensions had been high between him and Maeve after Spencer gave up the BAU. He resented Maeve and to a certain extent his beautiful daughter, for having to give up a job he adored.

He was frustrated and exhausted all the time. He was making less money at Georgetown, which didn’t matter so much in the present as he had a substantial amount of savings, but not enough to send two kids to college. His future problems crossed over into his present day.

It took its toll on Spencer. He went to work, came home and doted on his daughters and barely said two words to Maeve.

He had a quick temper. His exhaustion manifested in anger and when he did talk to Maeve it was usually to argue with her about something.

He’d been distant, far away even when he was at home, and she’d been lonely. So she met Bobby who made her feel wanted.

Could he blame her for that? Was Luke right? He hadn’t been attentive to his wife and so she’d sought comfort elsewhere. Was it his fault she’d strayed? Had he pushed her to it?

He flipped the album back to the first page to their wedding photo. Was he to blame in all of this?

He was so wrapped up in his self pity, the knock at the door startled him.

He frowned to himself as he pushed himself to his feet and padded over to the door.

Who was knocking at his house so late at night?

He unlocked the door and cautiously it opened a fraction so he could see who was on the other side before he committed to opening it.

His frown only deepened when he looked into a familiar pair of eyes staring back at him from the dark.

He opened the door fully and braced himself against the door jamb.

“Y/N,” he swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @ssa-uglywhore27 @foxy-eva @kbakery @chrissyflo3 @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @its-yagirl-raelynn

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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theflyindutchwoman · 5 months

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Hey, you okay? Yeah, you? Yeah, I am now.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 5.21 - Going Under

Bookending this season with two undercover missions for Lucy and Tim was a really great move to showcase the progression of their relationship… The first one allowed them to finally be in touch with their feelings for each other whereas that second one gave them the opportunity to experience how this type of life could impact them, to begin acknowledging their fears and setting necessary boundaries. In both cases, they were working together. But the tone of the episode is very much different. And this time, they're on separate sides. Vegas gave Tim a direct glimpse of how good Lucy was at undercover work… But for all the danger they faced, he was right by her side. Here, he can only be a witness and this difference of perspective changes everything. It is stripping him bare. And it is particularly visible in this scene, when Lucy gets shot at.

That look of fear on his face is so visceral. Even though he's able to give all the information on the radio, his eyes are anxiously locked on that window, waiting for a sign from Lucy that she's fine. Holding his breath in the meantime. And Lucy… The way she immediately pops up from her hiding place, looking straight away in his direction, not caring one bit that she could give them away… In that moment, all that matters is to reassure him and make sure that he is okay as well. That eye contact despite the distance… And the relief on his face… How he even needs a few seconds to compose himself and start breathing again before starting the pursuit of the shooter… It is so raw.

And it is very apparent that he is reeling. He makes a mistake right away, by putting the sirens on despite being still parked right in front of the restaurant. Luckily for him, Teska is too busy being worried about the cops to notice that there was a police car watching him. As good as Tim is at compartmentalising, he can't do that when it comes to Lucy. That was already clear during her disappearance… But now that they're together, it's that much more difficult for him to stay objective. Like he told her once, it's her. And that leads him to the second mistake, one that could have cost him his life : 'If your head is not 100% in the game, it'll get you killed'. That's what he said to Lucy during their previous UC op… And that's what almost happened here. He is so rattled by the events of earlier that he is caught completely off-guard. Just like in the hotel room. You can see the realisation hit him… How his lack of focus could have been fatal. It's the fact that he admits being lucky to another officer, that he needs to say it out loud, that shows how shaken he is.

It's only once Lucy calls him, once he can hear her voice that he starts breathing again. Tim picking up right away, the phone barely ringing, proves how on edge he has been the whole time. And while she seems to fare much better outwardly, the way she barely waits for Teska to leave her before calling Tim tells a different story. She couldn't even wait for the car to be several blocks away for safety… That's how much she needs to hear from him as well. To reassure him and herself that they're both alright. And his immediate words being to ask if she's okay… Followed by 'I am now'… Again, this is so visceral. He can't even hide his fear, it's purely instinctual in that moment. And with the way she answers yes, it's clear that they both need to see the other as soon as possible… Need that physical reassurance… None of them are able to bounce back like they did in Vegas. Even once the mission is over.

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #5.21 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

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spahhzy · 6 months

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Unlikely pair pt. 1

Oh Jaune, you're going to learn. Those 'Arc Promises' of yours is gonna get yourself killed one day.

The group that was RWBY + Jaune walked through the desert, the city of Vacuo only miles away as air ships loomed over head. Everyone was still reeling from the events that had transpired...all except for one.

??: Are their yet? are we their yet? Are we their yet?

Jaune groaned in annoyance as he slapped his cheek. A small 'ow' could be heard from where his palm met cheek. Lifting his hand up revealed a singular neon blue eye, whiskers, and a smile.

??: That's not very nice Jaune!

Jaune: Can I get even five minutes without you being annoying C.C.

C.C: Oh, come on, this is all new to me! Can't blame me for being sooooo-

Jaune: Don't you dare finish that sentence!

C.C. : Curious!

Jaune sighed, already regretting EVERYTHING that has led up to this.

C.C.: ooooh I can't wait to meet you're friends, it's going to be one big hug-a-pa-looza!

Jaune: Hug-a-wah? No, you just stay quiet!

??: une!

C.C: But it's all so thrilling, LOOK AT ALL THE SAND!

Jaune: I hate you.

??: aune!

C.C: Love you too best buddy!

??: Jaune!

Jaune/C.C: WHAT!?

Blake flinched at the shout as Ruby put a hand on Jaune's shoulder.

Ruby: How are you holding up?

Jaune: Fine... all things considered.

Ruby: and what about your...

C.C: I am doing great, Ruby! Hey, no hard feelings, right? Ooh remind me to go apologize to that Neo girl too, bless her heart, I hope she really does find herself.

Ruby just cringed as Jaune just rolled his eyes and moved forward as suddenly Weiss walked right next to Jaune.

Weiss: Jaune, if I may ask?

Jaune: Yes?

Weiss: Why did you let the cat inhabit your body.

Jaune just sighed as he looked at the warships over the city of Vacuo.

Jaune: We'll, I guess I felt...I don't know? Sorry?

C.C.: Awww, so you doo care about me!

Jaune: I will dunk my head in water and drown both of us!

C.C: Shutting up.

Jaune: But i guess, really. It all started when we both fell into the tree.

#jaune arc #neopolitian (rwby)#ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake bellodona #curious cat #rwby shitpost

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Note

Hello how are you? I'm going to request an imagine from Morpheus interested in Lucifer's twin sister, in the imagine Morpheus will get the bag of sand that was with Johanna and the reader was with her since they are very good friends, and the reader offers to go with Morpheus to the hell with him, he accepts since he wants to spend more time with her, reader being lucifer's twin having the title of star of the night she and lucifer have the same powers because they are twins she is still in heaven being an archangel when lucifer went to hell she keeps visiting him, reader and lucifer have a great relationship

Harbinger Of The Dusk

Dream of the Endless x Angel!Reader

Summary: After a century of being apart from your love, you meet again with the help of Constantine and accompany him to retrieve his lost item from your twin's domain.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: fem!reader, simp!dream, beloved!lucifer, some hurt/comfort, typos, etc.

Part 2 kinda "Holy"

A/N: the rest of your asks is below the cut! Yes hello nonnie. Its been ages HAHAH but i am well. As well as someone doing their finals is HAHAHHA. Tbh i remember i was really excited when i got this ask cos its so fresh and i love Gwendoline christie sm that i began writing it straight away but then it died 💀 BUT THEN i read the sandman comics in our school library and felt a really strong desire to write for dream and include hell somehow THEN I REMEMBERED THIS REQ and fell in love with your idea all over again so im using your req to scratch both our itches <3 <3 although I will say since then, my image of the ruler of hell has changed dramatically after reading the comics. by the time i wrote in lulu, it was comic!lucifer in my head and not gwen. still referred to lightbringer with fem pronouns <3 cos why not. this was a treat to write in all honesty, so i hope you like this nonnie <3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx

Dream was tired, fatigued, completely and wholly exhausted. He barely made it back to the Dreaming, only to see it in rubble and ruins. At this point, he was, too, falling apart.

But then Lucienne appeared, Lucienne appeared and reached out to him and then suddenly, he couldn't fall apart; he wouldn't.

He knew what he had to do, what he had to do for himself, for Lucienne, for the Dreaming.

And so he spoke to the Fates, and now here he was, with this occultist detective, Johanna Constantine, who had woken up from a bad dream.

She shoots awake, clutching her chest. She pushes back into her bed when he catches Dream's nearing figure, "Constantine."

"Stay back! I'm warning you!" she shouts, pointing a finger.

Dream, although unappreciative of her authoritative words, allows her the courtesy of catching her breath and wits, as she was still reeling from her nightmare.

"I am Lord Morpheus, Shaper of Forms, King of Dreams and Nightmares, Prince of Stories, Dream of the Endless."

Johanna makes a face as she heaves. She relaxes suddenly, as if deciding he was no longer a threat to him, though he broke into her apartment, "wait, Dream of the Endless? That's you?"

"Indeed."

She huffs, leaning against her pillow, "huh, how'd you get out?"

Dream stiffens. Johanna awaits his response. She does not get one.

She decides to ask another question, "does this mean I'll be sleeping better now?"

Dream does not reply this time either, but Johanna does; she responds to herself, "well of course not, Johanna, people like you don't sleep well."

Finally, Dream speaks, "how do you know of this?"

Johanna turns to Dream. She raises a brow, "about me not sleeping well? Well, duh, it's me that-"

"About my imprisonment?" Dream cuts her off coldly.

Johanna clamps her lips together upon hearing this. She watches him for a moment. She sniffles and crosses her arms, "her."

"... her?" Dream slowly repeats.

She nods, "her."

When the woman does not clarify or continue, he begins to feel his patience thin and his anger flare. The room begins to darken, his form begins to grow. He was in no mood for cryptic responses.

Johanna had not yet caught on to this, which was why she frivolously thought of adding, "the star of the night."

Dream quickly snaps out of his trance.

Johanna turns to her bed then back to him. She watches as Dream reacts to her words. He looks like he was kicked in the gut. He looks winded. She carefully says, "isn't she your girlfriend?" She narrows her eyes and pushes her blankets off her, "she doesn't get personal, rarely talks about herself in the name of selflessness, but she loves to talk about whom she loved and I can tell-"

"How do you know her?" Dream quips.

Johanna makes a face before she gets off her bed, "she's an angel, I'm an exorcist. It makes sense, no?"

"Where?"

"Where?" Johanna repeats, shaking her head, "where what?"

"Where do you meet her?"

She furrows her brows, "why d'you a-- you want me to take you to-"

"Yes. Take me to her," he quickly responds, "but first, you must help me retrieve something."

After the Endless and the exorcist retrieve the something, that was a bag of sand, Johanna drives them to a home for the aged. It was called Dusk Haven. Immediately, Dream knows this is the right place. He hastily exits the car and stares at the building, wanting nothing more to run inside and look for the angel, but is seemingly unable to move from where he stood.

Johanna steps out of her car and walks over to the Dream King, cocking her head to the side, "come on then."

For a moment, Dream watches before following after her.

I stop what I am doing when I feel a familiar presence near me.

I hear my name get called out and I turn to Margaret, the old lady I had been conversing with, offering her a smile and quick regard as I tell her I must do something.

"Alright, but don't be too long, pretty girl."

I nod, "I will do my best, my dear."

I before I get out of the hallway, I open the door and find Johanna passing by. She turns and blinks, lips parting at the sight of me, cheeks tinting red. I smile, "Constantine."

She stares. I hear her breath hitch. She clears her throat, "Angel."

"My love."

My stomach drops.

I turn and see the face of Dreams. My lips part. I whisper, "my love."

I walk over to him and seal him into a tight hug, feeling my eyes water and my throat and chest constrict in grief and longing, "my dream."

"My angel," he mutters against me, sealing his arms around my form. Dream crumbles into me. I feel him crumble against my form. I feel him release a tight tension in his spine. I feel him relax and find refuse in him. My body calls out to him. I missed him so.

Johanna watches then huffs, "I reckon my work here is done."

Dream's eyes dart to her and he nods once, "yes, thank you, Constantine."

I close my eyes and nuzzle my face into his neck.

She nods, "see ya, Sandman," then walks off.

A few elderly fellows pass us in the hall as we continue to find solace in each other's arms.

"How lovely."

"Get a room!"

"Oh I remember when Gertrude and I-"

"I'm walkin' 'ere."

"Such a stunning girl with such a strange, scrawny boy."

I pull away and take his face in my palms. I trace his cheeks with my thumbs and brush his dark hair out of his face. I inspect every inch of him. He was whole, but he was also not. His face, normally, was angular and bony, but never like this, never.

Dream looks upon me with his hands resting my waist. He allows me to touch him as I please, and while I knew I was always special in this, I knew that he was never too keen on any bold form of affection, as it was not his nature.

"I was forbidden to interfere," I mutter lowly as my hands roam him. I avoid his gaze.

He rubs my back, "I know," he pulls me close, "I know this," he sighs, "I do not fault you for not coming to me."

I look back at him with sorrow, "you must have been greatly distressed," I frown, taking in his sullen form and tired eyes. I have not seen him in such a state. He has taken many forms throughout his life, and though most of them were slender and lean, never did he look so thin or hollow the way he did now.

I blink away my tears, "there has not been a day that I did not want to go to you, Dream."

He places his hands atop mine and leans into my touch, "and there has not been a day I did not want to see you," he leans in and kisses me. I immediately reel him and and deepen our exchange. As our lips and tongue dance together, he briskly pulls away to speak, "to have you touch me lik-"

"GET A ROOM!"

"CALLAGHAN, YOU PUT A SOCK IN IT!"

I pull away from him and turn to the arguing seniors in the hall. I look back at Dream, who leans back into me and clutches my body close. I sigh ands him and lead him down the hall, "perhaps we should get a room, my love."

Dream looks at our joined hands as we exit the home for the aged. He thinks there is a great comfort in knowing that the angel before him is just as honeyed and tender as before, that she lives her life in servitude to others still, that after a century, there is a constant that is the she, the North Star of Dreams.

But he remembers he did not have time for tender honey, though he missed the taste so badly. No time, not at present, "my love."

I stop in my tracks when we get outside and turn to him.

"I do not wish to be parted from you," he starts, stepping close to me, caressing my cheek, "but there are things I must first do."

I knit my brows before I nod, "of course, Dream," I shake my head, "I know you value your duty most of all," I place a hand on his cheek, "and I shall do them with you."

Dream stills as I rub his cheeks. I look at him through my lashes, "I, too, do not wish to be parted from you. I beg that you do not tell me you came only to see me and leave."

He lets out a breath and leans his forehead onto mine. He closes his eyes when I move to kiss him. One I pull away, he speaks out my name. He speaks it with so much reverence I feel my wings flutter from behind its glamour of invisibility.

"I do not mean to deny either of us of each other's company, but you see, my helm has been bartered off to a demon," he pulls away and takes my hand, "I must go to retrieve it in hell, and taking you may cause you quarrel with your blood that I do not wish to happen."

"Oh," I mutter softly, "one of dearest Lucifer's acolytes has your artifact?"

He nods, "it remains to be seen."

"Then do not fear. I shall accompany you to my half's domain."

A line forms between his brows.

I chuckle softly and smoothen the crease on his forehead, "do not trouble yourself with useless worrries, my Dream. You could not cause strife between us that is not already there."

I grab his hand and breath in deeply, allowing myself to take on my truer form. I pull him up as I stretch my dark wings out and begin to rise from the ground, "my sibling is capable of only bearing one grudge against me."

Dream holds onto me as we rise up into the sky. He utters, "not joining her uprising."

"Yes," I clutch him tightly against me, "I am certain though Lightbringer will be most pleased to see me."

And so when we get to hell, Dream and I stand before the gates, awaiting for the keeper to come. Once the wretched thing appears, Squatterbloat, I speak to the demon guard and announce ourselves, "I am the Nightstar, Harbinger of the Dusk, Star of the Night, Bringer of Darkness. With me is Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams, Shaper of Forms, Prince of Stories. We have come to speak with the my blood half, Morningstar, Bringer of Light, Ruler of Hell."

For a moment, I see the demon is too stunned by my appearance and glory to speak. He begins to chant, "holy, holy-"

"Open the gates, Squatterbloat."

He looks upon me then grins, "an angel of the most high, in hell?" he laughs, "you have fallen to the depths to join our ruler."

I narrow my eyes at him, "do I look felled to you?"

"Your feet touch upon the ground," Squatterbloat says, looking down to my shos.

"What do you know? I live amongst the people, and I am not yet in hell."

"Oh, your glory excites me-"

"Chose your words wisely, or I shall smite you."

He tries to reach out to my form, "oh, holy," his paw raises, "I shall love to defile yo-"

"You will regret attempts," Dream quips with a look of disdain.

I blind him with darkness. The demon yelps.

I rise from the ground look down at the him, "you will find that I will not be ridiculed by a lowly imp."

I watch as Squatterbloat withers away, writhing in pain and confusion. I blink at thw pathetic display then turn to Dream, reaching out to him. He takes my hand and I decide to fly us over the gates instead.

"Is this proper, my love?" Dream mutters as we soar over the damned who wail and lift up their hands, calling out to me for deliverance.

I make an annoyed sound, "I will soon destroy the abominations here if we interact with them any more. The ruler of hell would surely appreciate that less."

Dream does not argue, "very well, my love."

When we descend into the heart of hell. I release Dream and prop him down on his feet, but I, myself, do not touch my feet upon the stone. I would both be desecrating myself and my beloved's domain by doing do.

"Lightbringer," Dream calls out, "Morningstar! I call upon you."

There is a crash.

"WHO IS THERE? WHO INSULTS ME BY ENTERING MY DWELLING WITHOUT-" the ruler of hell stops when she gazes upon me. The Fallen blinks, "ah," she releases a breath and smiles, raising her arms out to me, "sister."

I smile back, "my half."

I soar over to Lucifer, placing my hands upon her face. We kiss and I take in her appearance. She looks well. "It is wonderful to see you, beloved"

She nods, "it is wonderful to see you."

There is a groan from the side.

Mazikeen looks up at me and gawks at my form. I turn to her and her half-rotten from, and smile, "greetings, Mazikeen."

She mumbles a garbled greeting in response, eyes wide in wonder of my figure and cloak of holy darkness.

Lucifer turns to Dream, "why have you brought an Endless with you, beloved?"

I turn to Lucifer then to Dream, "there is something that he wishes to retrieve from a demon."

Lucifer crosses her arms and tilts her head, "ah, I see. The Endless has been bested by one of my children."

"I am not bested, Morningstar," Dream speaks, "I was imprisoned for a century and with that time, my helm was taken and traded to a demon."

My twin purses her lips, "I see," she waves a hand, "do not dawdle then, Dream of the Endless, speak the name of the demon and I shall call upon them."

Lucifer and I look at him.

Mazikeen hisses when her hand burns when she tries to touch me.

We turn to her.

"Mazikeen!" Lucifer scolds.

Mazikeen apologizes, pulling back. I look at her as she clutches her rotting arm that was now further mangled.

"I do not know the name of the demon," Dream replies.

"I see," Lucifer repeats, "then we shall call upon them all."

The demons, djinns, damned, and all clamor at the foot of the stronghold. Dream and I walk to the edge, looking out the opening, beholding the view before us. I look out to them as they see my form and praise and curse me all at once. I feel revulsion, a thick bile rise up my throat. I spit it out my side.

Lucifer walks next to me, laughing lowly, "you insult me, my blood."

I turn to her and offer a half-sympathetic look, "it is my nature. Do not be insulted."

Dream looks upon the pit and tries to make out one who has his helm. He listens to them and their dreams. He cannot isolate the cries. He pulls out his bag of sand and scoops a clump, breathing out to it, causing it to flurry over the entities. It then summons the demon that has his artifact.

With a whiff of sand, the demon is brought before us.

"Choronzon," my twin and I speak at the same time.

"My Lord," he bows to my twin. When he turns to me, he falls onto his hands and knees, "my- my-" he starts and tries to lift his eyes, but he cannot look upon my form. Choronzon turns away and shields himself, "I- how may I serve?"

Lucifer watches as Choronzon retreats me. Once he is far and look back at her, she points, "the Dream King wishes to retrieve something from you."

"Greetings, Choronzon," Dream addresses.

Choronzon, now turned away from me, regains composure, "Dream King." He grins.

"I have come to retrieve the helm that was stolen from me."

He grins even wider, sharp teeth laced with malevolence, "stolen? Me?" he places a hand on his chest, "you flatter me too greatly."

"I do not speak to flatter you," Dream retorts.

Choronzon laughs and licks his hand, wiping the side of his head. He basks in self-indulgence.

"Well, have you the helm, demon?" I call, narrowing my eyes upon his disgusting form.

He cannot bare to look at me but he replies, "I don't know of a helm."

"You cannot deceive us," my twin and I speak in unison once again.

Choronzon turns to his master, evading me, "right. My liege, the helm is in my clutch after I traded with something. It is mine. I have broken no laws of hell in gaining it," he turns to Dream, "it's mine."

"Very well," Lucifer says, turning to the Endless as well, "what say you, Dream? I shall not assert myself to a child that has kept my laws."

Choronzon is smug. Dream tilts his head at the demon, "it is not yours to keep, just as it was not something to have been traded for."

Choronzon shrugs then smiles, "then you challenge me?"

I scoff.

Lucifer's lips curl.

Mazikeen watches.

Dream scowls. He thinks about his condition, and how he was not yet strong enough to fight. I watch him, feeling the agitation rise around him. We all can sense it. I knit my brows when he finishes debating and states, "very well."

Choronzon beams.

"No," clatters a sword, "I disagree, demon," I announce, pointing my blade upon his neck. I take my full angel form, stretching my wings. It glitters with darkness as I hover above the creature.

Choronzon shrieks and topples back, the mere presence of my weapon overpowering him already.

"MASTER!" Choronzon calls as he shields himself from me, turning to my sibling for aid.

I press nearer with a look of fury.

Lucifer looks upon her demon and his pathetic form on the ground and watches him shrivel. She crosses her arms while doing so.

"You will soon perish if you do not release what you hoard, Choronzon," my voice echoes and my eyes blaze with darkness, "I will smite you that none of your vileness shall remain, as though it never was. Is that what you wish, deceitful creature?"

"MASTER!" Choronzon calls, screwing his eyes shut until he is at the edge of the room.

Dream gazes at the demon curling up in terror.

The miscreant calls out master again.

"She asks you a question, dear Choronzon," Lucifer says, "do you wish to see the power of the one favored by most high?"

"NO!"

Lucifer raises her hands and shrugs, "then you know what you must do."

Choronzon immediately brings out the helm and throws it away with desperation, "MERCY!"

I pull back and mellow my form, allowing my weapon to dissipate into the air, "this is not mercy, demon."

Lucifer nears Choronzon as he shivers. He reaches out to her garments and cries out, "master-"

"I am sorely displeased with you," she says, looking out to her people, "where are the twins Agony and Ecstasy? Take him away."

Choronzon screeches as he is taken away. He begs all the way down.

Dream picks up his artifact and finds himself sighing in relief.

Lucifer turns from Choronzon with a blank expression, watching as he is dragged away in chains, to me, lips turning into a frown, "that was hardly fair, my half."

I turn to her and shake my head, "I am incapable of hardly fair, beloved. You know this."

"I know this," Lucifer sighs. She looks to Dream as he puts his helm on, "and you. You use my beloved as leverage to beseech me. You have acted most wrongly."

"I did not wish to bring her with me, but you will find that she insisted," Dream says, reaching out to me. I move towards him and take his had.

"Thank you, Lightbringer," Dream nods in regard.

Lucifer scoffs, "thank me?" She laughs, "so you have your helm. Tell me, then, why I should not keep you here?"

I furrow my brows at her look of anger, "my half-"

Lucifer raises a finger. I hold my tongue.

Dream looks upon at her as she walks over with a grimace.

I watch as she stares him down.

"Well?" she imposes, "can you not think of one good reason for me to release you? Or will you use my half as leverage again?"

"An Endless has no place in hell."

Lucifer's lips curl, "and yet you see, you have no power here. It is not by your own power that you have come, and I will not allow you insult me further by using my sister as your chaperon."

I look at Dream, tightening my grip upon him, wanting nothing more than to speak on his behalf in this moment.

He is silent for a long moment

She grins, pleased with herself for besting Dream of the Endless.

Seeing her like this makes my stomach roll. My heart aches at sight of her unquenchable thirst for power. I begin to recall her fall I feel my eyes water at her self-importance. She wounds me deeply

Lucifer catches my express but offers me no pity nor remorse. Instead she raises her nose with arrogance and asserts, "you shall not take him out, beloved. I will hound him, if you do."

"But he is set to rebuild his own domain," I mutter through tears, "you will not keep him here, devil."

"Then he shall give me reason not to, angel."

Dream turns to me and wipes away my tears, "reason?" he starts, "power? You say I have no power here, but tell me," he turns to Lucifer, "what then would be hell without its dreams?"

My half throws her head back and laughs, "hell has no need for dreams, Dream King."

"No?" Dream pulls me towards him, "so I ask," he turns to the legion of damned, "what would hell be if it could not dream of heaven?"

I lift up my eyes to Dream.

Lucifer stills.

I look at my beloved lover then my beloved sibling. I wipe tears.

I feel a fury bubble from within my half. It tears at me. It makes my face harden. It guts me.

It was plain to see that Dream had given reason.

"Come, my love," Dream mutters softly, leading me off as he began go walk away, "let us leave this place."

I nod and allow Dream reel me away like a ballon. I give ruler of hell one last look, "farewell, beloved."

Lucifer glares then turns away.

Dream and I navigate hell as he walks and I float. The damned part for us to give us clear passage.

Lucifer watches, looking down upon her domain, tears streaking down her face, "one day, we shall destroy you."

#dream of the endless fanfic #dream of the endless fluff #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fluff #the sandman x reader #morpheus fluff #the sandman x you #dream x you #dream fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #dream x reader

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the-irreverend · 2 years

Text

In Defence of Growth Spurt

Well, this has been quite the last quarter of the year…

As if we Undertale fans haven’t already been spoiled enough, the beginning of October blessed us with the triumphant return of one of the most beloved UT comics in the fandom. From the cold ashes of a long hiatus, Growth Spurt rose like a glorious Phoenix, treating us to 29 panels of vibrant colour schemes, sharp writing, and one of the most unique art styles this godforsaken site has ever known, an art style that this godforsaken artist has taken a lot of inspiration from.

But as great as this page was, it did leave me a bit stunned as it unveiled a shocking twist…

...that Alphys is not a good person.

*GASPS SOMEWHAT SARCASTICALLY*

Pardon my hyperbole and lousy humour, but I knew from the moment I read this that some were going to discuss how Alphys is depicted in this page, and I understand why.

I know how easy is to dismiss these kinds of viewpoints, especially since the excessive idolization and demonization of morally complex characters is a bit of a tradition here, and the Undertale fandom is no exception. Trust me, as a person who’s been part of the Chara fandom, I know from experience (who was also exceptionally well-written in this comic by the way).

I’m very glad I didn't talk about this immediately because it’s given me some time to think about this scene and you’ll be relieved to hear that I no longer have an issue with this page. But I still understand why people would take issue with this. Because hey, at one point so did I.

But to say that everyone who has a differing opinion is just a salty Alphys stan is nothing short of tasteless. That’s why I am going to explain the best I could criticisms that someone might (and that I used to) have, before explaining why I decided to abandon said criticisms.

To give a brief recap, the Matainence/Defect Arc centres around Alphys and Asriel, along with Frisk and Undyne as they attempt to fix the CORE which has suffered from, would you believe it, a defect. In addition to repairing the CORE, Alphys must also repair her relationship with Asriel, as she’s haunted by the creation of Flowey, and dreading what might result from it.

Wholesome family-friendly entertainment, am I right?

Fast forward to where we are now, where we see the CORE starting to break down completely, along with Alphys’ and Asriel’s emotional state. While starting to doubt if the meltdown can be stopped, she argues with Asriel that it may be better to just give up on their efforts, and when she’s confronted with the possibility of fatalities resulting from that course of action she says this:

As I read this panel, which did give me a bit of a shock, these were my first impressions, which I must re-emphasize are impressions that I NO LONGER HAVE.

There’s a difference between saying “we can’t save them all.” and “it’s just a few deaths.” It’s the same reason people were left reeling when Superman asks his dad if he should’ve let the kids die to protect his secret identity, to which he replies "Maybe." I understand the feelings behind what’s being said, but to articulate said feelings like that wouldn't sit well with some people.

But the real reason I had doubts about this scene's direction was not that it highlighted a flaw in Alphys’ character but that it, as it seemed to me, potentially undid Alphys’ progress in overcoming those flaws. Let me better explain.

It should go without saying that Alphys isn’t the greatest person in Undertale. I mean, no one is. This has more to do with just her checkered past with Amalgamates as she does possess personal qualities that… aren’t the best. Just look at her true motivations for helping Frisk get through the underground.

But while she’s not the greatest person, she did become a better one by the end of the Pacifist Run. Yes, she didn’t exactly get a complete redemption arc, but she’s in a better position than she was now. She did find the courage to release the amalgamates and confess to her former king and queen about her role in creating them, which gave her the honour of becoming the former royal scientist.

So for Alphys to be beside herself with regret about what she did to the Amalgamates AND Asriel only to later be seemingly unconcerned with the deaths of people (AS IF SHE WON'T REGRET IT LATER), while also reducing their demises to being “outliers” just didn’t click right with me… AT FIRST.

But eventually, after a little consideration, I eventually came to accept this scene, and realize that this panel in the Defect Arc is anything but a defect. All you have to do is look no further than to the panels that followed it.

You don’t need to express indignation about what she said because Asriel already did. Of course a well-deserved chastising should follow that line, but what makes Asriel’s lecture that much more impactful is not just because it’s just a well-deserved reprimand, but because of what it does for Asriel’s character development.

Keep in mind the previous page saw him asking Alphys not to call him by his title because he felt he didn’t do anything to deserve it. And yet one page later, he displays qualities that show that he does. But what makes this scene even more memorable for me is what came before the reprimand:

See? Right before he proceeds to humble the good doctor, he takes a moment to EMPATHIZE with Alphys plight and shows that he fully understands that this isn’t worth “taking at face value”. Though he still rakes her over the coals for her statement, he still takes a moment to show that he fully understands why she made it.

It’s while I was re-reading this scene that I realized something: if Asriel can learn to understand Alphys, then why the duck shouldn’t I?

This is what continues to draw me and many others back to Growth Spurt to this day. It’s more than just the comedic one-shots or sadistically revelling in Asriel’s teenage angst.

The story didn't need grand clashes, shadowy conspiracies, or inter-dimensional antics (not that there’s anything wrong with that). It’s just the main cast learning to confront their past. It’s so simple, yet so impactful, just like the art style.

I’m not concerned about what Alphys is like here because I know where she’s going to end up. Just look at what happened with Toriel!

Remember this scene where she completely attempts to shut down Asriel as he attempts to get her to talk with Asgore?

It’s not a good look for her if you just cherry-pick these panels, but look where this scene eventually led up to. Only perhaps my favourite story arc that I have ever seen out of any Undertale comic period, and one of my favourite comic scenes!

Seriously how can you not get teary-eyed looking at this?

I save the can't even-ing about this particular arc on another post, but for now, all I know after reading this comic is this: sometimes when a character’s progress takes a step back it’s because it’s about to take a bounding leap.

Because in the end, that’s what Growth Spurt is all about: GROWTH.

So don’t judge a book by its cover...

...and don’t judge a character arc before it’s finished.

Thank you for reading the incoherent nonsense I've typed here. I look forward to hearing your own insights.

Growth Spurt AU belongs to @potoobrigham // @potoo-reblogs

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dominimoonbeam · 9 months

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Am I determined to put more David/Huxley fics into the world? Yes, yes I am.

Am I also indulging in some amnesia trope?

...yep.

Still working on this one but I like sharing!

The as of yet unnamed Daley amnesia fic. <3 <3

Huxley woke up in a dimly lit room, the glow of machines and the bare wisps of light edging in around the blinds already enough to make his eyes ache and his skull throb. He tried to lift an arm, to throw it over his face, but the effort was suddenly too great.

He didn’t feel right.

He didn’t feel well.

He groaned and tried to roll over, away from the window, squinting in a desperate bid to see where he was.

“Sunflower?” a deep voice rasped, full of worry and relief.

It was beautiful and Huxley instantly hoped whoever the guy was talking to was okay.

Another voice was in the room. Hands pressed him gently onto his back.

There were questions but he couldn’t catch them. His head hurt.

“You’re okay, Sunflower. Just rest,” the voice said.

Good, Huxley thought. He was glad that guy’s Sunflower was okay.

When he woke up again, he was alone and this time he was able to slowly open his eyes and sit up.

His head still hurt and he was grateful that the light wasn’t sneaking in through the blinds anymore.

It didn’t take him long to realize he was in one of the rooms in the healing ward. He had a vague memory of hitting the ice. Only it wasn’t the ice… It was a stick. He’d landed on someone’s hockey stick and there had been an ear splitting crack.

He palmed the side of his head, but of course there wasn’t a wound there even if there had been one before.

“You’re awake,” someone whispered.

Huxley squinted up at the stranger.

They were quick to tell him where he was and that he was okay. A healer. He nodded and thanked them for the patch up, trying to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and get up. His vision blurred and his head ached.

“Oh! Hang on,” the healer’s whisper strained in their rush to brace his shoulder. “You’ve still got a concussion. I want to get another look at you, ask a few questions, and then you and your husband can head home.”

Huxley’s head jerked up to look at the healer, only to wince at the pain the movement shot through the backs of his eyes. His hand pressed at his forehead again. “What?”

“The head injury was really bad, Mr. Shaw. Please, take it easy.”

“Mister—” he started and then stopped, laughing a little. “I think you’ve got the wrong patient.”

The healer was quiet and he assumed they were reeling from their own mistake. He looked up, about to try to assure them it was fine. Mistakes happen all the time. It wasn’t a problem. But the way they were looking back at him made him swallow those words. “Honey…What’s your name?” the healer asked.

Huxley felt sick and it suddenly had nothing to do with his head. Okay, no, it still had a lot to do with his head but this sinking feeling was new. He gave his name. He knew his name. No matter what people said, he wasn’t stupid.

The healer nodded slowly but there was something careful about it. “What year is it?”

He answered.

The healer nodded again, even slower. “Okay. Hang on. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Why? Am I wrong?” he laughed. He wasn’t wrong. It was 2023. He was playing hockey for Dahlia in his last year at DAMN.

“Just stay put, okay? Everything is alright. I’ll be right back with a colleague and we’ll get this straightened out.”

Before he could ask what they meant, they were gone and he was alone in the dark room again.

He got out of bed and stumbled, shoulder hitting the wall but he managed to stay on his feet. There was a duffle bag on a chair and he found some clothes in it. They were his size and he pulled them on hurriedly. He hoped one of his teammates had brought them and that he wasn’t stealing. This night was bad enough already.

His heart was pounding. He needed to get out of there. He needed to get back to his house and just figure out what was going on. He couldn’t find his phone and swore under his breath.

He ducked out of the room into the hallway, cringing at even the low lights of the nighttime corridor. He kept his shoulder to the wall as he walked, using it to stay upright and moving the right direction every time his vision blurred and his head made it feel like the ground was tipping.

“Mr. Shaw?” someone shouted.

Who the fuck was Mr. Shaw and why did that healer think it was him?

He turned a corner and almost ran into a tall guy. “Woah! I didn’t know you were already up,” the guy said, hand on his arm to steady him.

Huxley squinted at the face. The guy clearly knew him but he didn’t know this guy.

“You took a really bad hit. You had us all worried.” The guy smiled but it looked strained now. “Do you wanna sit down?”

Huxley swallowed hard and shook his head, pushing past the stranger and toward the elevator. “Sorry. I… I gotta go…” His legs almost buckled when he stepped into the lift.

The guy definitely looked worried now.

Voices were rising down the hallway now. It was already too loud and part of him worried there might be actual alarms going off. Could they make him stay? No. He needed to go.

Huxley hit the button for the lobby, the doors sliding shut just as shadows were running into the corridor, someone exchanging fast words with the guy Huxley had run into. The guy lunged for the elevator, trying to catch the doors, but a split second too late.

Huxley panted, fear adding another layer to that headache behind his eyes. Fuck! What was going on? Who were these people and what did they want from him?

He tried to catch his breath.

The elevator finally came to a stop and opened. Too bright. Too loud.

Oh shit.

His legs almost gave out again, his skull splitting. He pressed his hands to his ears. Fuck!

And then a shadow fell over him, blotting out the fluorescents. The elevator doors slid shut again and Huxley groaned, shaking his head. “No.” He needed to get out of this place. He didn’t want to go back upstairs. He wanted to go home.

“Hux,” a deep voice said quietly, full of worry.

He dropped his hands, sagging into the corner of the elevator. He needed to call someone.

A body pressed against his, keeping him up and blocking out the world. Huxley relaxed a fraction. “I…I gotta go home…” he tried to explain.

A hand gently cupped the side of his face, big and warm. “Okay. I’ll take you home.”

He sighed heavily, dropping his head forward onto the stranger’s chest like he’d done it a thousand times before. It felt right. And this guy was going to take him home. Everything was going to be okay.

The elevator opened onto that sleepy floor again, but there were people waiting and that healer.

Huxley groaned and tried to shake his head, tried to back up but all he could do was push the back of his head against the metal wall of the elevator. “No… I…” He struggled. His head hurt so bad.

Those steady hands were still on him, cupping the sides of his neck. “It’s okay. We’ll talk to the healers and then we’ll go home.”

Huxley tensed. It was in the way this guy said, “we’ll go home.” Like they lived together. But Hux hadn’t had a roommate in over a year. He looked up, despite the way his lids struggled to stay open, to get a look at this guy. He was big enough to be on his team, that was for sure, but he wasn’t.

The guy looked back at him, worry making a little crease in his brow that was both familiar and completely new. “Sunflower?”

Huxley stared, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t… Who are you?”

#redactedverse #david/huxley #Daley #<3 #dominimoonbeam #the world needs more Daley!#which is to say that i need more Daley!#amnesia fic!

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nerdieforpedro · 18 hours

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WIP Wednesday

When is the last time Nerdie did one of these? Technically Sunday, but that was a few days ago, we got new old stuff! 🤗 Nerdie is in her fluff and fantasy era it seems. The water is cool but she's adjusting and could use a rum punch or mojito.

From chapter 6 of Weddings 101 with Dieter that is still in progress:

Hanri knocked on Oscar’s hotel room door, he’d done as his boss asked and felt horrible about it. He was dropping off his boss’ usual order of tequila and three bags of hot Cheetos that he likes to eat in the evening. He had been propositioned by Vanessa and happily agreed to get her in the hotel and a private meeting with Mr. Issac. After getting her in, he left her to it and headed back to his room with his money. Oscar heard the door and called for the young man to bring him his snack.

I have made Oscar Issac into a villain, I'm fine with it. I honestly think the real Oscar would find it hilarious because this 'evil' Oscar does as many random things as Dieter does. He'd have a ball and the blooper reel between the two of them would be insane. This Dieter fic is purely for my amusement. All my fics are, but I write this one when I need a hard laugh. 😂 It has it’s moments but is just ridiculous and I love that, just silly.

Second from part 4 of Our Journey Across the Star Ocean:

Your breastplate was purple, but your pauldrons, vambraces and leg armor were all silver like Din’s. Nodding after assisting you to put them on, The Armorer clapped. “You look ever more like a warrior, dear girl. Djarin should train you further in hand to hand combat, not just with your blaster. Tell him this, yes?” The small gold wrench was moved to the right instead of being on the left where it had been. A circular depression remained on the left side.

I just wanna be sweet with our Mandalorian okay? And also make him very anxious, I may need to do some introspection on that one. 🫡 I’ll also write smut eventually for him again. I just haven’t had the right motivation to do so and none of the words seem right. Bah 😑

Lastly is my untitled Pero x Dragon fic. I've had a few people beta it and I think the first chapter is good, working on the second. Maybe by then it will have a title? And Pero is...well Pero is fine but worse for wear?

The mercenary grinned and licked his bottom lip, “I would say you are the one with base instincts you reptile. Pinning a man like this when speaking of desires only leads to one outcome. Whatever great being you’re supposed to be and not aware of what human men think of when a woman has her legs open in front of him.” Was he really interested? Mildly, he hadn’t been to the brothel for a warm cunt since before this latest job. Pero was trying to unnerve her since she was acting ‘mightier than thou.’ He hated those types, looking down on everyone. She is literally looking down at him though. “You disgusting ingrate. You will not move me Pero.” Pressing the soles of her feet into his forearms, she squinted her eyes. “I am called Calista. You will show proper reverence to a dragon! Should count yourself blessed to even meet me, let alone be essence bonded with me.”

Did I not say that Pero would antagonize an angel, demons, monsters or gods? He would, laugh about it and find a way to kill it and earn more coin. He stays alive, is about his coins and friends, in that order. I figured I would try not only a fantasy fic, but also enemies to lovers? I haven't done that one too much or at least on Tumblr I think. Or maybe on A03 and in my WIPs but those are hidden deep. 🤣

Let me know what you all think. 🥰

NPT: @fhatbhabiee @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @inept-the-magnificent @secretelephanttattoo

@rhoorl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @grogusmum @djarinmuse @maggiemayhemnj

@trulybetty @lotusbxtch @604to647 @connectioneverywhere

#wip wednesday #wip game #Nerdie cut down on her wips #maybe they're like two or three more in the background #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin #dieter bravo #the mandalorian #Oscar issac #pero tovar #dragon #fanfiction

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queen-dahlia · 1 year

Text

𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐯𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧

𝗠𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗥𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭𝟵 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗶𝘂𝗺

Note: Translation is not 100% accurate. Expect grammatical errors.

// : alternate translation | ⫘⫘ : flashback

My second night at Obsidian was by no means peaceful.

Lord Gilbert invites me to eat the cookies with him on the bed in an ill-mannered way.

But I can't taste it.

When I cast my eyes down, cold fingers grabbed my chin as if to say no—

Gilbert: "Hey, I want you to tell me one thing too..."

Gilbert: "You haven't made eye contact with me once today. Why?"

The blood-colored eyes, which do not reflect any emotion, loom in front of me.

A faint exhale mingled with the breath, and my breathing became shallow.

Emma: "… I feel like it."

Gilbert: "You're still reeling from yesterday, aren't you?"

Emma: "If you know what I mean, don't ask."

Gilbert: "I'm asking you because I don't know. ...How can we make up?"

Emma: "It's not like we're fighting."

Gilbert: "You're mad at me, aren't you? For saying, "You'll be glad if I die."

(Even though you know.)

I gently brush off Lord Gilbert's hand, keep my distance from him, and nod.

Gilbert: "You are such a saint that you would respect even the life of a villain. Aren't you kind?"

I understand, but it doesn't add up. I think that's how Lord Gilbert is feeling right now.

(Even if he is the worst of the worst, Lord Gilbert is—)

Emma: "… The owner once told me that Lord Gilbert used to be a boy with a beautiful heart."

Gilbert: "Ahaha, what is that?"

Emma: "And he even told me that I am like Lord Gilbert."

Gilbert: "… Huh?"

I felt the atmosphere around Lord Gilbert sway slightly.

Emma: "I am often told by Rio and others that "I take care of others and neglect myself..."

Emma: "Lord Gilbert, you also did this in the beginning, didn't you?"

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gilbert: "There are different criteria for evaluating a beautiful heart…"

Gilbert: "Let's define beauty in your case as "having more love for others than for yourself."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

(I wasn't aware of that, but if everyone says so, I have to admit it.)

I am not neglecting myself by any means.

I'm just happy when people around me laugh... That's all.

Emma: "If Lord Gilbert's root is the same as mine, then you chose the path of becoming evil yourself for the sake of others."

Emma: "There had to be a price to pay to correct the deceit and corruption."

Emma: "I think that's what this is all about."

Gilbert: "No way, is that what you think of me?"

Lord Gilbert tries to laugh it off, but his eyes are not smiling.

It didn't seem to be a misguided consideration.

Gilbert: "And even if that were true, then what is beyond that?"

Gilbert: "Are you going to say, "You are actually a good person. So you shouldn't die?"

Gilbert: "Ahaha, don't do that, okay? That's disgusting."

Emma: "I won't say it. Whatever the reason, Lord Gilbert chose the path of evil."

Emma: "It's ridiculous to think you're a good person, and I've never thought so."

Gilbert: "Then you don't mind if I die, do you?"

Emma: "You're taking this too far!"

Gilbert: "Yeah? I think death is the norm for villains."

Emma: "I think it's cowardly. When you die, it only makes you feel better."

Gilbert: ". . . . . ."

Gilbert: "Ahaha! Yes, that's right. I see, you're the type of person who wants to make life a living hell, aren't you?"

Gilbert: "So when I think about you being angry... well..."

Emma: "Don't get me wrong! I don't care if it is a living hell or not."

Emma: "It's just... just..."

Emma: "… It's just too unrewarding."

Gilbert: ". . . . . ."

(This person... Why is he trying to fulfill his ideals even at the cost of his own life?)

If it were me—I wouldn't be able to fulfill such a great ideal for a stranger.

Not unless you have someone really close to you—someone that you absolutely want to protect from deceit and corruption.

(Me and Lord Gilbert are different. But if we're similar, then maybe...)

Emma: "My definition of a friend is "someone who is fun to be with, makes you laugh, and makes you want to wish them happiness."

Emma: "And Lord Gilbert is my friend."

Emma: "… If you're my friend, don't try to leave me."

(I really don't think it should be rewarded.)

(Including the Blood-Stained Rose Day, Lord Gilbert does things that are unforgivable.)

I can't honestly wish for happiness, either.

I even feel like there is blood in my words.

(So, only in this room.)

(Only when it's just the two of us…)

Emma: "I... did not dislike Lord Gilbert's malicious kindness."

Emma: "Why would I want to kill such a person?"

(If I could kill, I wouldn't be in such pain all the time.)

(That's why... I got so angry.)

Gilbert: "… That's so sweet it's repulsive."

(. . . . . .)

The words of rejection were wrapped in a countless number of thorns that I didn't expect to be aimed at a friend.

Gilbert: "If my single word can set Rhodolite on fire, and killing me won't do that—"

Gilbert: "Are you still going to say, "I don't want you to die," when you have to make a choice like that?"

Gilbert: "Me or Rhodolite. If such a balance is held out in front of you, you won't hesitate."

Emma: "No, I am lost. I'm lost and confused, and I will find another way."

Gilbert: "What if a lot of people die in the meantime?"

Emma: ". . . . . ."

Gilbert: "That's what I am to you."

Gilbert: "You can't be with me unless you're ready to kill me."

Gilbert: "Unless you want to be a traitor in the truest sense of the word…?"

(It was Lord Gilbert who first offered me a "friend," so why is he pushing me away like that?)

(… It's as if you want me to wish you dead.)

I knew from the beginning that Lord Gilbert's definition of "friend" was different from mine.

But when the perceptions don't mesh this well, I am beyond angry and in despair.

(If Lord Gilbert thinks that way, he shouldn't have been so kind to me in the first place.)

(What he says and what he does are in contradiction.)

(I wonder if he wants to make me suffer. ...that's a possibility.)

Gilbert: "Hehe... just the right opportunity. I have something I was going to give you when we get back to the castle."

(In this way…?) **

Lord Gilbert stands up and takes a small case out of the drawer of his office desk.

The lid of the case, which was obviously made of high-quality material, was opened, and as I approached it and looked inside, I saw that it was something of a shape I had never seen before, something I had no idea what it would be used for.

(… I don't know what it is, but I know it's not good.)

It's a polished piece of silver.

When I look closely, I can see that the metal is decorated with delicate roses.

The metal had a rotating golden round thing on it and a bright red rose charm on the black part that appeared to be the handle.

Gilbert: "Yes, Little Bunny."

Lord Gilbert makes me hold it with a smile.

It felt so comfortable in my hand as if it had been made for me.

Gilbert: "That face... you've never seen it in Rhodolite, have you?"

Emma: "Is this common in Obsidian?"

Gilbert: "No. This is a prototype that I made, so it's not on the market."

Gilbert: "But it's easy to use."

Lord Gilbert grips the cylindrical silver part and presses it against his own chest.

I instinctively had a bad feeling that made me break out in a cold sweat.

Gilbert: "First, this is a safety device, so remove it, then turn this. And if you finally pull the trigger—"

Gilbert: "Even Little Bunny could kill people easily."

Emma: "Ah..."

It slips from my hand, and Lord Gilbert grabs it before it hits the ground.

Gilbert: "Don't drop it because it might explode if it oscillates."

Gilbert: "Well, there is no live ammo in it right now. Don't forget to load it properly when you use it for real."

Emma: "Lord Gilbert, this is..."

Gilbert: "It's a gun."

(Oh, my god!)

(No, wait, is this a gun in the first place?)

The guns... I believe they were a new type of weapon that has been seen on the battlefield in recent years.

But the guns I learned about from books would not be so small or easy to handle.

(It's totally different from the guns I know.)

(Even though Obsidian is an advanced country in military technology, this is...)

My fingertips tremble at the thought of holding a tool that could easily take someone's life.

Lord Gilbert noticed this, put the rose gun on the desk, and gently wrapped his hand around mine.

Gilbert: "You know as well that my gift is to accept or be accepted."

Emma: "I don't have any use for this stuff!"

Gilbert: "Right now? You might think this is a murder weapon."

Gilbert: "But in other words, it could also be a "weapon needed to protect what is important" to you."

Gilbert: "But I'm sure you'll have limited opportunities to use it. As long as I'm here, your life isn't in danger."

Gilbert: "But you see, I am your greatest enemy and world disaster, protecting you."

Gilbert: "There will always come a time of choice. There's no harm in having it."

(How can you say that?)

(... Do you really want me to kill you?)

Emma: "I will not accept this time. I will never, ever accept this!"

I tried to shake his hand off vigorously, but Lord Gilberto tightened his grip and…

Gilbert: "You're not very understanding."

He pulled out a nearby chair and forced me to sit down.

Then he kneels down in front of me and pulls up my skirt.

Emma: "What are you doing!?"

Gilbert: "If you resist, I'll tie you up, okay?"

Emma: "Unreasonable..."

Gilbert: "You're a hostage, so you have to understand."

Cold fingertips touch my thighs, and my body trembles involuntarily.

(What are you really doing...?)

I seriously thought about kicking him off, but he didn't seem to want to touch me, instead, Lord Gilbert picked up something like a leather belt that was on the desk and began to wrap it around my leg.

Gilbert: "Yep, it fits."

Smiling with satisfaction, he attaches the gun to the belt.

Apparently, it was an accessory for carrying a gun.

Gilbert: "Carry this weapon with you at all times."

(… You're not listening to me at all.)

When I appealed to him with my gaze as if I couldn't understand his words,

Lord Gilbert notices this, softens his eyes, and for some reason bites my thigh.

Emma: "Hey, why would you do that!?"

Gilbert: "Oh, am I mistaken? You had a cocky look in your eye, I thought you wanted me to bite you."

Emma: "You know that's not true, right?"

Gilbert: "Hehe…"

With a confident smile, Lord Gilbert clenched his teeth, far from feeling sorry.

The mark on my thigh was painful... yet there was a glamor that I couldn't look at directly.

Gilbert: "But if you don't, you'll die, okay? That's what this place is about."

Emma: "… Don't you hate authority?"

Gilbert: "That's that, and this is that."

Gilbert: "This is Obsidian. Even if you don't like it, you have to accept my gift..."

Gilbert: "Even with this, you must not resist."

A cold hand lifts my leg and then bites me on the calf.

It felt different than trying to instill fear in my body... and force me to obey.

(I'm not scared... just embarrassed.)

His tongue crawls over the bite marks, and my legs tremble.

I was about to say stop — but I gasped.

(… What's with that face?)

His red eye, which rarely reflects emotion, seems to have a somewhat melancholy look.

The sad face that makes my heart clench, whether Lord Gilbert is aware of it or not...

(Does it only look that way because I'm looking down?)

(No... but...)

When I stopped resisting in confusion, Lord Gilbert raised his head, and our eyes met.

Gilbert: "Oh, your face... You're in so much pain and suffering."

(What do I look like?)

Gilbert: "Wouldn't it be easier if we just hated each other?"

Emma: "… I agree. I wish I could manipulate my emotions to my liking."

Gilbert: "If you could do that, though, you wouldn't be human."

Laughing softly, Lord Gilbert bites me again.

Sooner or later, my legs were going to be covered in bite marks.

(He's doing terrible things to me... but I can't refuse him.)

(I wonder… if I've been trampled.)

Gilbert: "…… I'm sorry."

(Eh...)

The faint sound of a voice makes me gasp.

But Lord Gilbert only smiles refreshingly, and his red eye flickers.

The heart of the trampling beast was never revealed.

#サイバード #イケメン王子 #ギルベルト=フォン=オブシディアン #ikemen prince #ikemen prince gilbert von obsidian #ikemen prince gilbert #ikeprince #ikeprince gilbert von obsidian #ikeprince gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #ikeprince jp #ikepri jp #ikeprince translation #ikepri gilbert route spoilers #ikemen prince spoilers #ikeprince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #dahlia's bad translation

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