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#She just said stand here and left him with no instructions
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Second Chance Sorcerer Chapter 2
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Summary: After surviving Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in the Shibuya Incident, Nanami finds himself in an unknown realm between life and death. Will he escape?
Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem! reader
A/N: Chapter 2 is here! So we come to the world of the living where reader is grieving Nanami's death. Reader-centric chapter, but Nanami is brought up heavily. Originally made with my OC, to read that version, check out my AO3 account, but it's in Y/n format here.
Banner by the lovely @actuallysaiyan
Search/follow along using #secondchancesorcerer
Chapter 1 | Nanami masterlist
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There’s an incessant knocking at the door and it takes all of your energy to not scream at whoever it is to go away. You felt like someone had hit you with a sledgehammer, your sleep disturbed and restless. Why was everyone so determined to give you company when all you wanted to do was be left alone?
No one understood the hollow feeling in your chest, how you woke up every night screaming, remembering Mahito’s disgusting grin of triumph as he had murdered Nanami in cold blood. How you had begged Nanami to let you take him out of Shibuya station along with Maki, the burns on his body looking so raw and painful. He had fixed you with the same look he would give you when you was hesitating to take a shot at him during hand-to-hand combat training sessions. That stern expression of disapproval, despite his own pain and exhaustion.
“Take Maki-san and leave. I’ll be fine Y/n-san. I can’t leave. Not yet.” And you had been helpless to argue against him. you never could. There was a hypnotic quality to the way Nanami instructed you, said with a finality that you could never disobey. The man had a death wish, you knew that, and you had foolishly believed securing him with a protective charm would drive away the shadow of demise that seemed to hover over him all the time. You should have knocked him unconscious and dragged his ass out with Maki. Shoko was on site. She could have healed him, and he would be here, grieving their other losses instead of…
Your heart constricted painfully, remembering how you had held onto Yuji as hard as you could, your ears bleeding from his hysterical screaming as he swore his revenge on Mahito. Nanami’s loss hung heavily in the air. Although most of the Jujutsu community was more invested in Gojo being sealed, it was Nanami’s death that affected you the most. Nanami your mentor, your dour, unwilling mission partner, your whole heart…now gone. Like he had never existed, no trace of him left. 
“Y/n-san?” The knocking continues and with a snarl, you roll off the bed, your hair a dreadful mess, not caring that you’re still in pajamas, and yank open the door only to see Ino and Yuji standing there, Yuji carrying a takeout container. Your ire washes away only to be replaced by a dull ache as you see them. “Oh. it’s you two.” You slink back to the bed and disappear under the covers.
“We haven’t seen you for two days now Y/n-san.” Ino shuts the door as Yuji sets the takeout container on the table. “You can’t just lock yourself away. We’re a team. Team Nanami, remember?” Ino gives you a wan smile which you don’t have the energy to return. Yuji settles down on a chair and says nothing.
Your heart aches for the boy, so young, a teenager, looking so weary and serious, shouldering the weight of a much older man. “I haven’t been in a mood to see anyone. Everything that happened at Shibuya…I can’t.”
Your voice trembles, threatening to spill out all the unspent grief you’re carrying. You hadn't explicitly told anyone about your feelings for Nanami, believing it was pointless. You were his apprentice after all, a title almost similar to being his student, and it was a boundary you hadn’t been willing to cross. Nanami had helped craft your abilities after all, abilities you had been terrified of using, abilities that had plagued your entire life, that you wished you hadn’t been born with; until he had shown you how to use them for a higher purpose. 
It was an astonishing experience, developing a cursed technique, needing much hands-on instruction. Literally. Nanami would constantly adjust your hands, your stance, and your combat positions, tutting at you impatiently. You had felt like you were in a ballet academy under the care of a rigorous instructor, the type that would raise their student’s arms and chin and adjust their posture using the end of a cane.
He had started you off the same way that Gojo had done for Yuji, by channeling cursed energy into one of Principal Yaga’s creepy cursed dolls. The doll had given you a black eye that day, but you secretly blamed Nanami for that; you had been watching movies as instructed, the doll in your lap when he had come down to check on you. His deep gravelly voice cutting through the room unexpectedly had caused you to yelp, grip loosening on the doll, which had wasted no time in delivering a blow to your eye. 
It was humiliating, feeling like you had failed him on this simple task but he made you nervous. He always gave off an aura of needing perfection and his short, clipped way of giving instruction made you feel inadequate. Everything had been a blur of confusion as you leaned against the sofa, covering your eye and moaning in pain, hearing rapid shuffling footsteps, before Nanami had caught hold of the doll and shoved it into a containment box.
“Let me see.” With your good eye, you saw him leaning over you to check your face. You knew you were blushing but hoped it came off as embarrassment for being punched by the doll rather than the fact that your mentor - your unbelievably attractive mentor- was peering into your face at such close proximity. 
You had slowly removed your hand, the area around the eye swollen and tender. Nanami’s expression was strange, almost like he was trying not to laugh as he delicately laid his fingers at the edges of the starting bruise. “I did warn you not to lose concentration,” he said in an even tone, although it betrayed a wisp of amusement. “Go see Ieiri-San. I’m afraid you’ll be sporting a bruise for a while, but her reverse curse technique will take away the pain so at least you won’t feel it.” 
Your good eye had glared at him reproachfully. “I was doing fine until you startled me. I didn’t even hear you come in. We should put a bell around your neck.”
You thought you saw the corners of his mouth twitch slightly, almost like he was biting back the urge to smile. “Are you under the impression that curses wear bells around their necks, Y/n-San? Because if this is all it takes to startle you…you wouldn’t last a minute on a solo mission.”
His words had brought you back to the reality of the situation, the fuzzy feeling of being near him vanishing in an instant. Always teaching survival tactics, always telling you to run, always putting himself in the line of fire. It had driven you insane, how little self-preservation he had for himself. 
“Isn’t there anything that you would like to live for?” you had asked him one morning as you ate breakfast together before catching the train home, having finished a mission the previous night. He fixed you with a scrutinizing stare, whiskey-colored eyes narrowing as though puzzled by your question. 
“Like what?”
His response left you stumped. Did the man have no aspirations, no dreams, or wishes he wanted to be fulfilled? 
“Like what?” You had parroted back to him, an incredulous look on your face. “There are so many wonderful things about life! Don’t you have a survival bucket list?”
His lip was definitely curling now. Nanami never smiled completely, but the corners of his eyes would crinkle when something amused him, and you could see the lines deepening as he regarded your question, but his tone felt like an adult indulging a child. It was maddeningly patronizing, considering he was just three years older than you, yet he assumed himself to be too mature and aged for such whimsical questions. 
“A survival bucket list?” he practically scoffed. 
“Yes,” you said trying not to lose your patience with him, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know, a list of things you’d like to do if you ever had the time.”
“Do you have one?”
“Of course I have one! Most of us have one! Something to keep us going when all we see is death and destruction on a daily basis.”
The thought seemed to intrigue him but you couldn’t shake off the feeling like you were being snubbed. Which was why you were taken aback when he asked, “What’s on your survival bucket list?”
“Oh ah…” you tried to gather your thoughts as you spoke, not expecting that he would ask you. “Take a tour of Europe. Go on an African safari. Take scuba diving lessons. Try different pastries and sweets from all over the world.” You lists some of your top activities, then frown as Nanami in a rare moment, flashes you a grin, his teeth showing for a brief second before his face returns to its usual stoic state. 
“What?” You had asked almost impatiently. “Is my bucket list funny in some way?”
The blond man shakes his head no before speaking. “It’s not funny at all Y/n-san. I think it’s nice that you have these personal goals.” He says calmly, his voice carrying an unfamiliar lilt you had never heard before. 
Your irritation died down when you realized he hadn’t answered you yet. “Do you have one or not?” 
He looked thoughtfully at you before replying. “I used to. But it’s not as great as wanting to learn how to scuba dive or trying all the sweets in the world.” His tone changed into something wistful and nostalgic and it played with your heartstrings as you waited for him to continue. “My survival bucket list, if I can call it that, has only one goal. And that is to live long enough to retire.”
Your breath had caught and you waited for him to say more, hoping he wouldn’t shut off. Nanami rarely ever spoke more than what was necessary, but you longed to see more of this side of him, the parts of him that had nothing to do with sorcery. 
“Retirement isn’t something a lot of sorcerers get to experience. Most of them die young, and the ones that do survive have so many disabilities that doing anything later in life becomes impossible. If life is favorable to me, and I have all my limbs and mental health by that age, I would love to retire and spend the rest of my days in peace.”
“What does peace look like to you?” you had asked him in a hushed voice, feeling ecstatic about finding out these little details about him. 
“A beach, in a country with a low cost of living. Perhaps I’ll live right on the sand, a book in hand, and just take in all the sunshine.” His eyes had taken on a faraway quality, the whiskey color becoming more honeyed, little flecks of gold visible in his irises as though whatever he was thinking of had lit a candle inside him, illuminating his whole being. You could only stare, unable to comprehend how beautiful, how vulnerably human, he looked in that fleeting moment before it vanished behind an impenetrable curtain of indifference. “But that future is a very slim possibility. I don’t like building castles of air.”
The warmth that had settled in your chest dissipated, and you were left with the man you had grown used to; contained, jaded, pessimistic. 
“But what if it does happen?” you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. 
He let out a sound that could have been interpreted as a disbelieving chuckle. “Then I’d better think about using something more solid than air to build my castle.”
“Y/n-san?”
You’re jolted back to reality as Yuji hands you a tissue. You hadn’t even been aware that you were crying, tears rolling down your cheeks, eyes puffy and red.
“I’m sorry guys.” You dabbed at the tears. “Got lost in thought.”
“We all miss him, Y/n-san,” Yuji says comfortingly, but his voice trembles. “He was more than a teacher to all of us.” 
“And we’re still a team despite him being gone,” Ino says assertively and presses the takeout container into your hands. “Eat. You need to.”
you open it to reveal a breakfast sandwich, and although you don’t have much of an appetite, the thoughtfulness of the boys is so sweet that you don’t feel like setting it aside for later. Taking a bite, you try to distract yourself from your own feelings.
“So they weren’t able to recover Gojo from the prison realm?” you ask, trying to get off the topic of their deceased mentor. 
Ino shakes his head no, and you are relieved to see that most of his wounds from his fight with Ogami have healed, almost imperceptible to the eyes of a non-sorcerer, although there was a scar running down the left side of his face now.
“They’re doing a recovery throughout Shibuya station, but it’s mostly to pull items belonging to the people who died. You know, to return to their families.” Ino sighs and rests against the wall of your room. “They haven’t found Nanami-san’s blade yet.”
This bit of information is unexpected, and you look at him, then at Yuji who is also listening intently. 
“I mean…it probably got lost underneath all the rubble, right? It’ll turn up eventually.” You swallow, hoping the weapon wasn’t lost to the destruction of Shibuya Station. 
“I hope so. I’d imagine Nanami-san would want me to have it.” Ino sits down on the edge of your bed. Yuji however, gives him a look of disapproval. 
“Why do you get Nanamin’s weapon? I was his student too.”
“Yeah, but I trained under him the longest. By that right, it should come to me.”
“What if he has family? Wouldn’t it go them?” Yuji countered, trying to think of a reasonable argument for why Ino couldn’t simply lay claim to the blade.
“He didn’t have any family,” you say quietly, not really invested in the conversation. Ino and Yuji continued to debate, their conversation becoming indistinct buzzing to you as you finished your sandwich. 
“He was your teacher too Y/n-san,” Ino interjects suddenly, with a touch of surprise. “Why aren’t you more interested in who his blade goes to?”
“Because I knew how much he hated using it.”
Your words carry an intensity that makes them both quiet down instantly. As powerful and wonderful as his blade was, you knew your mentor’s distaste for using it. To him, it was a means to an end, no different than using a rifle or an axe. He used it for the sake of exorcising curses, but the blade itself carried no personal meaning to him. 
“Nanamin hated his blade?” Yuji asks in a small voice. The disappointment in his eyes had you quickly backpedaling.
“Not the blade itself. I think more so, what it represented for him. A life as a sorcerer. Of facing death every day, knowing this was his duty and he couldn’t escape it.”
Silence follows your words and you wish you hadn’t spoken. You hadn’t meant to put a damper on the boys’ spirits but you couldn't keep quiet either. They were young, in awe of their late teacher who must’ve seemed like a much older man, dispensing wisdom. But knowing how small your age gap was, and how much he hated this line of work, you found yourself compelled to make sure they knew what you knew; that Nanami Kento was a hard-working man, but he never found any joy in using his now legendary weapon at all. 
And unknown to them, You had already scavenged Shibuya Station after the emergency evacuation orders were put through. You hadn’t expected to find much, but somehow, through a stroke of luck, had found his tie, the obnoxiously yellow, polka-dotted tie, peeking through the broken cement and glass, stained with blood. His blood. 
You had yanked it out quickly and stuffed it into your pocket, a little secret you had been carrying around the last few days. It now lay under your pillow; you worried people would judge you for keeping it, for not washing it but somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. At night, you’d run the tie through your fingers, feeling the material slip smoothly through, the faint scent of his cologne still on it. You knew you would never be able to wash it until the last vestiges of that scent faded away. It was the only thing that brought you comfort, that and remembering the day you found out the history of the odd color and print of the tie.
The 4 four of you had been out at the amusement park, Ino and Yuji energetically running around from one ride to the next while you and Nanami had waited in line to grab food for everyone. As you sat waiting for the boys to come back, you had gathered courage and asked him a question that had been in the back of your mind since you became his apprentice.
“Nanami-san?”
“Hmm?” He had turned his focus towards you and you hoped he wouldn’t see the rising color in your cheeks. 
“Why do you wear that tie? It just doesn’t match the rest of your outfit.” You held you breath hoping the question wasn’t too personal. But the tie somehow paradoxically brought his outfit together and also threw it out of style. 
His expression had changed almost imperceptibly. If you hadn’t spent as much time as you did with him, you might not have noticed it. He rested his elbows on the picnic table, as though conflicted to admit what was going through his mind. Then with a sigh, he said, “It’s to remember an old friend.”
“An old friend?”
“A late friend, to be precise.”
Your heart tightened in your chest. A late friend? He had lost someone close to him? 
“It’s a funny story.” Nanami paused as though considering if he should tell you more, then continued. “My favorite show growing up as a child was The Flintstones.” 
You stared at him, but you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped you which you suppressed immediately. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to say something like that.”
“Well, it was.” Nanami’s lips had twitched. “And my friend knew this. As a joke, he got me a tie that matched Fred Flintstone’s outfit.” Another pause, another sigh, as though the next part was difficult for him to say. “I never wore it until after his death. Now I always do, in remembrance.”
“I’m so sorry,” you had said in a low voice. “I didn’t mean to bring up such a sad memory for you.”
Nanami shook his head and looked away towards the Ferris wheel, where the boys had disappeared off to. “It was a while ago. I try not to dwell on it for too long.”
“Thank you for telling me,” you’d murmured. His face had softened as he looked at you, the rest of the world blurring from your vision until all that remained in focus was him, the sharp eyes, the high cheekbones, the straight nose, and the chiseled jawline. Barely 30, yet looking like even a few years of sleep wouldn’t wash away the exhaustion that emanated from his bones. 
“Even if Nanami-san disliked his weapon, it’s still useful to have.” Ino and Yuji were back to debating about the blade. 
You were about to reiterate that you wouldn’t fight them over the blade when suddenly a pale sea foam green light began to glow from underneath your pillow. Both the boys stop bickering, awestruck at the sight. With a trembling hand, you move the pillow, revealing the tie, and making Ino and Yuji draw closer in curiosity. The polka dots on the blood-stained tie were glowing, emanating a warm aura accompanied by a curious scent of lingering coffee.
“What…” You watch with fascination, then look up at Yuji and Ino, who are watching the scene unfold, wide-eyed and filled with wonderment.
“Is that Nanamin’s tie?” Yuji gets closer to the bed, unable to take his eyes away.
“Yeah…I’ve been holding onto it.”
“Is it cursed? Did Nanami-san leave some residual cursed energy when he…?” Ino eyes the tie warily but also speaks in a hushed tone of disbelief. 
You shake your head, the aura not feeling sinister to you. Rather, it felt familiar, like you had experienced it before, in those brief moments when Nanami’s eyes would crinkle from amusement…
You gasp and scramble off the bed as the dots begin to lift off the tie, a vignette of sea foam green surrounding each one. They float ethereally in the air, then, one by one start floating out of your room. 
“Wait!” Not caring that you’re in pajamas or that you’d been in bed for nearly two days, you chase after the dots, bolting out of the room barefoot, Ino and Yuji hot on your heels. People stared at you as you ran. You knew the group must look quite eccentric, the two boys fully clothed and decent looking, while you looked ratty and deranged, hair flying everywhere as you tracked the dots barefoot, not wanting to lose sight of them. 
Finally, the dots make their way into the large courtyard where Nanami would brief you about upcoming missions. They slow down and the trio halts, panting and out of breath. The light surrounding the polka dots brightens before they start arranging themselves into a fixed pattern, you, Ino, and Yuji watching perplexedly.
“Fred Flintstone”
“What?” Yuji looks bewildered. “Who’s that?”
“Isn’t that a cartoon character?” Ino asks, his generation just shy of the classic cartoons millennials had grown up on. 
You cover your mouth, trying not to jump to conclusions. “The Flintstones…”
Could it be? Was he…? You let out a strangled laugh of disbelief but yet, what else could it be?
“It’s Nanami-san!” you whisper, and as you do, the energy signature from the polka dots seems to envelop you, and you feel every small little detail you have ever memorized about him; the little marks that formed on the bridge of his nose when he took his glasses off after a mission, how he enjoyed a fresh pot of coffee in the morning, that little sigh of satisfaction he’d make after completing his daily crossword puzzle. 
Yuji and Ino look at you incredulously, but you have never been more sure of anything in your life. You look at them in the face, tears in your eyes, not from grief, but at how achingly comforting it was to be bathed in the glow of those polka dots. 
“Nanami-san is alive!” 
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6vaguebook · 4 months
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After watching this first two episodes of the Percy Jackson Disney+ show, my main takeaway (outside of Percy taking on THREE Ares kids with no training and not even being wet) is that Luke was done so, so well.
The actor EMBODIES him. Even before I saw him acting, one picture was enough to convince me that this man WAS Luke, despite looking nothing like him. His friendship with Percy feels so much stronger. I'm already feeling the devastation from the inevitable betrayal. Just. He's so well done.
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thekitsunesiren · 2 months
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Dc x Dp #46
"I'm transferring you all to another branch to focus on your teamwork." Batman announced to the Young Justice League out of nowhere.
The news surprised the whole group. They've been together for quite sometime and had gotten alone just fine. Sure, they had disagreements here and there, but that wasn't enough for them to need more training, was it?
"We've been officially working together for a long time. Why do we need teamwork training now?" Robin asked, being brave enough to talk to the well feared vigilante that many were fearful to speak against.
Batman said nothing as he scrolled through the tablet in hand, obviously searching for something.
"Because you still have problems with your teamwork. You need the help of another team your age to get a better view point of what you're doing wrong. And hopefully you'll be able to learn about the different type of enemies
"Wait, wait, wait! Our age? You mean there's another team that we didn't know about?" Kid Flash asked, the news obviously being a surprise to him.
This news was a surprise to everyone in the group. All of them thought that they were the only young heroes that worked under the Justice League.
Finding what he was looking for, Batman opened a file and the team looked at the large photo that appeared on the screen. The photo contained four teens, just around their age if not older or younger.
One was a black teen with a red beanie, and Robin was surprised to see the bulky tech in his hands that he was using. What kind of outdated tech was this team using?
Next to him was a goth looking girl with raven black hair wearing a black short with a black and green plaid skirt. Her face was concentrated into a stern glare that gave Wally the shivers. The gun that she held in her hand didn't help either.
There was another girl as well. Her black hair down and resting against her shoulders. Said shoulders and the rest of her body covered by a black and red suit with a hoverboard against her feet and another strange weapon in her hand. A gun maybe? Red Arrow was curious to see her aim when moving on that board.
And the last kid wasn't standing. He was floating. With snow white hair and green eyes that seemed to glow everytime they looked at the photo. He looked to be around the same age as the other three, but he wore a black jumpsuit with white boots, gloves, and belt. On his belt rested a thermos? Superboy didn't see how such a scrawny thing could be of any threat.
One thing was similar was that how all of the humans eyes seemed to glow. Almost as bright as the- metas'? Aliens? -did.
"These are the members of Young Justice: Dark. They have been under the Leagues employment for three months, but they've been working on their own for almost two years and managed to stop several world ending disasters dealing with the supernatural."
The statement from Batman shocked the team. Them? On their own for two years fighting against the supernatural? Surely he was joking?!
"But-how? We've never heard of them, and they were world ending, we should've known about it." Robin argued.
"Because they've never left the threats leave their town." Came Batmans clipped reply. "There have been a few close calls, but all of them have been handled. As for why the League wasn't aware, there was interference that stopped the League from knowing about Amity Park. This is the team that took our place."
This was the team? Two years unsupervised against supernatural threats that they didn't know about and they still remained uncovered? Just how strong was this team?
"I'm assigning your next mission to work under them. For the time being they will be your superiors and you will follow their instructions if you come into contact with any enemy. Do not go against their orders or else it will be dire. With this, you will learn about threats stronger than you have faced and better yourselves as a team. Do not mess this up."
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pathologicalreid · 2 months
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cryptic | S.R.
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You and Spencer get a surprise beyond your wildest dreams.
who? spencer reid x fem!AFAB!reader category: fluff (hurt/comfort a little bit) content warnings: oh geez. pregnancy, periods, weight, medical inaccuracy, cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, NICU, hospitals, maybe a little ooc i'm not sure, breastfeeding, reader is running solely on oxytocin, crying. word count: 6k a/n: does anyone else have an irrational fear of this? is it just me? that's why i wrote this anyways. also i wrote this MONTHS ago so if it's bad i'm not culpable. (yall voted for unhinged fluff, here it is) anyways i'm calling this part of my "spencer reid dilf agenda".
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him
In his work life, Spencer faced fear every day – that was part of the reason he loved life with you so much. The two of you had just moved to your first house together and were still unpacking boxes when he was called away to upstate New York for a case.
You weren’t frustrated with him; you merely kissed him and encouraged him to go save the day.
So, when he told you last night that you must’ve hurt your back trying to move the couch, he didn’t think anything of it. He just told you to rest and to let him know how you were doing in the morning, but when the morning came, there was a break in the case. Spencer had completely forgotten that he was expecting your call.
As the team waited in the police precinct, he didn’t wonder why Hotch answered a phone call and furrowed his brows at Reid until he called him over to talk in private.
For once, his overactive mind went blank when Hotch explained to him that you were in the hospital and that he should call your best friend, Ivy.
In a daze, Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket to find that he had missed two calls from you and thirteen calls from Ivy. Isolating himself in an abandoned office, he looked at your friend’s contact and pressed the call button.
The phone didn’t even have a chance to ring before Ivy answered, “Spencer! Oh my god,” she said, sounding relieved to be hearing from him. “I am so sorry for calling your boss. I pulled his number from Y/N’s contacts – I didn’t know how else to reach you, and I- “
“Ivy, what’s wrong?” Spencer asked, teetering between panic and impatience. “She told me she thought he had just pulled a muscle moving,” he explained, wondering what could’ve happened.
On the other end of the call, Ivy took a deep, shaky breath. “She’s okay, but you have to come home,” she whispered, keeping her voice down.
Now he was leaning closer to panic, “Where is she?”
“Northern Virginia Hospital,” Ivy responded. “When you get here, call me, and I’ll bring you to her,” she told him.
Spencer took a deep breath and left the empty office once he ended the call, very nearly running into Hotch, “I need to- “
Holding his hand up in a ‘wait’ gesture, Hotch nodded, “There’s a flight going out, Morgan will drive you to the airport. Don’t worry about anything here,” he instructed him, gesturing over to where Morgan was standing with the keys to one of the SUVs.
After promising to call when he could, a thirty-minute flight, and a ten-minute taxi right, Spencer called Ivy back.
“Hey,” her voice was quiet through the receiver, “are you here?”
He turned around in the lobby of the hospital, “I just came in the front entrance; what wing is she in?” He asked. Which wing would a back injury be in?  He supposed it depended on the severity of the back injury.
She cleared her throat and there was a soft rustling before Ivy answered, “Stay put, I’ll come to you.” Her words came out quickly as if she was trying to prevent him from going looking for her.
Then he began to lean closer to impatience, nonetheless, he waited the couple of minutes that it took for Ivy to come out of an elevator, motioning for Spencer to catch up before they took the elevator back up. “Ivy,” Spencer said, “What is happening?”
“She called me at six this morning, saying that she thought she had pulled a muscle in her back and couldn’t sleep. I told her to take some ibuprofen and try to rest, and if she didn’t feel better by lunch, I’d bring her to urgent care. She called me again at ten and told me something was seriously wrong, but she didn’t know what,” Ivy informed him, her voice sounding distant. “She was crying, and I’ve never heard her sound so scared. So, I called an ambulance and met her here while she was triaged…” Her voice trailed off as they exited the elevator.
Spencer’s heart ached at the thought of you being so scared, but it still didn’t answer his question: What happened?
Ivy sniffled and wiped her nose, “Spencer, have you ever heard of a cryptic pregnancy?”
He stopped in his tracks, eyes as wide as saucers, “She’s pregnant?” His words came out as a whisper, a mix of emotions flurried through him.
Your best friend smiled softly at him, “No, she had a baby. That back pain? She was in labor.”
Questions popped into his head quicker than he could ask him. He took a trembling breath, “Where are they?”
She led him around the corner, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “She’s in postpartum recovery, the baby’s up a floor in the NICU. It all happened really fast; you know? Anyways, they kind of whisked the baby away while saying things about Apgar scores that we didn’t really understand.
They stopped for a moment to get Spencer a visitor’s badge before he motioned for Ivy to continue.
Ivy shrugged in response, “She was kind of inconsolable after that, they gave her something to calm her down, but she keeps asking for you,” Ivy said, stopping outside of a door.
Spencer peeked through the blinds to your room. You’re awake, lying on the white bed, absentmindedly picking at the hospital bracelet around your wrist.
“If you need a minute before going in there, take it. Once you go in there, you need to be strong or brave or whatever,” Ivy instructed, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m not saying you can’t be confused or upset, I’d be worried if you weren’t. I’m saying she just gave birth unmedicated without ever even knowing she was pregnant, and they haven’t come back with an update,” she said, looking at Spencer like she was assessing a threat.
He nodded in understanding. Maybe when his head was clear he’d thank Ivy for being so protective of you, but he just nodded. “I need to be in there with her,” he insisted.
Ivy acquiesced, letting him know that she was going to go to the house to get clothes and was going to the store. At that point, Spencer had only been half listening to her.
You didn’t move on the bed when he opened the door. He looked at the whiteboard on the wall, his heart clenching when he saw the words ‘Baby Reid’ written below your name. Spencer quietly walked closer to you before he pulled a chair up so that it was at your bedside and took a seat. He could see tear tracks on your cheeks, “Sweetheart,” he whispered.
Your eyes closed, and two more tears streaked down your cheeks. There was an IV in your wrist and your vitals were being monitored. It wasn’t until Spencer leaned over and smoothed your hair back that you really started to cry.
Gently, Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, and you leaned forward into him. He just held you, running a hand up and down your back as he gently shushed you, “I’m here, darling. I’m here.”
“I had a baby,” you rasped, so quietly that Spencer wasn’t sure if you were telling him or trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t a dream.
He was quiet for just a moment, letting a few silent tears stream down his own cheeks. “I know,” he murmured, “I’m so proud of you.”
You hummed, leaning back ever so slightly, closing your eyes when Spencer kissed your forehead. “I tried calling you,” you whispered, looking up at him with watery eyes and lifting your hands so that you could wipe away the tears.
“I know. I’m so sorry,” he tried to apologize. There was no way for him to navigate this situation, but if he felt this lost, then he couldn’t begin to fathom how you were feeling.
Shaking your head, you waved off his apology, “Did you catch the bad guy?”
He nodded, smiling at your question, “Yeah, we got him this morning. That’s why I didn’t get your call,” he said as he took your hand and intertwined your fingers. “Can I get you anything? Have you eaten? Do you need water?”
A slight smile grew on your face at his concern, a fact that made his heart soar, “I should probably eat something.” The smile faded quickly, “We should probably talk, right?” You asked, leaning forward in the bed to reach for a pile of papers at the foot of the bed.
Noticing a pained look on your face, Spencer set a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll get it,” he said, guiding you so you were lying back on the pillows. “Please be careful,” he reached for the papers and handed them to you.
Quickly, you flipped through the stack of papers that was now in your lap. “I’ve been thinking, you know, and they gave me all of these papers with my options, but we have space at the new house. I work from home most of the time anyway, and we can afford it and- “
Spencer cut you off, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Yes,” he whispered against your lips before he kissed them again.
Studying you, he watched as you visibly relaxed into your hospital bed. He followed your gaze as you looked out the window of the hospital room, “Spence,” you breathed as a nurse wearing pink scrubs walked into the room.
She looked at him, “Hello, are you dad?”
Dad. He was a dad. Spencer nodded enthusiastically at the nurse.
“I’ve got these bracelets for you two then, they’re to help keep little families like yours together,” she says, loping the white bracelets around both his and your wrist. “Baby’s got two,” she lets you both know. “So, Baby Reid had a hard time breathing at first, but we up in the NICU cleared some of the amniotic fluid from her lungs and everything is looking much better now. Another nurse is bringing the bassinet now…” her voice trailed off when someone knocked on the door.
He wanted to make sure he had heard the nurse correctly. Did she say ‘her’?
The door opened, and it was the tiny hat with the bow that gave it away. She wriggled on the white sheet in her bassinet, looking around her new surroundings. Spencer looked from you to her and couldn’t help the tears that pricked his eyes. It was an emotion that he couldn’t quite place.
Noticing the way you leaned forward, the nurse spoke, “Would you like to hold her?”
“I- Can I? Is she okay?” You asked nervously, for the first time that day, Spencer heard the fear in your voice.
Nodding, the nurse wheeled the bassinet closer to you, helping you move your hospital gown so that you could do skin-to-skin. As she did so, she talked about bonding with a newborn, but Spencer was so enamored watching you that he wasn’t really listening. “We’re estimating that she’s about thirty-five weeks, so she’s late preterm, but she should be able to go home when you do,” the nurse informed you, making sure you were comfortable holding the baby before she stepped back.
The concept of being in a home surrounded by boxes with a newborn stressed him out, but then the tiny baby on your chest let out a squawk and he returned to just watching the two of you.
Both of the nurses left to give the three of you time, and you turned to Spencer, “What was thirty-five weeks ago?” You asked, gently rubbing your thumb over your newborn’s back.
“Exactly? July sixteenth,” he responded, watching your daughter as her eyes shut. “She fell asleep,” he observed, dropping his voice down to a whisper.
You hummed in response, bending your head down and pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “She needs a name,” you murmured, “we can’t keep calling her baby.”
Spencer leaned over the edge of your bed, “Do you have any ideas?” He asked, even though he already knew you’ve been keeping a list of baby names in your phone for years.
Shrugging ever so slightly, you peered down at your daughter, “All I know is that her last name’s gonna be Reid.” Your eyes flittered up to his, “Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll sob, and our daughter is asleep on me, and I don’t want to wake her up.”
“I just love you so much,” he told you softly.
“We can do this, can’t we?” You asked him nervously, narrowing your brows. “She doesn’t have a name. Our house is a disaster. Oh… Spence, we don’t have a car seat. We can’t take her home if we don’t have a car seat.”
Realistically, Spencer knew that you had at least twenty-four hours before you were released from the hospital, maybe forty-eight, given the circumstances. He also knew that you knew this, and he was afraid the events of the day were beginning to take a toll on you. He wasn’t going to say that, instead, he leaned forward and comforted you, “We’ll figure something out, I promise, okay? The name thing we can do.” He encouraged you to take one step at a time, “What about Ivy?”
Your head snapped up, “Really?” You asked, staying conscientious of the newborn on your chest.
“She was there for you through all of this when I couldn’t be,” he shrugged. “Did you know she dug through your contacts on your phone and called Hotch when I didn’t answer?” He watched a small smile tug at your lips, “I just think we should honor her in some way.”
Nodding, a full smile bloomed on your face, “Absolutely.” There was a brief silence, “Do you need to call Hotch? You can step out if you need to. We’re fine alone. I mean just for a little while not for- “
That was the second time you had nearly worked yourself into a panic. Spencer set a hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, angel. Don’t stress yourself out, okay? I’ll handle it.” He promised, after all, you had already done the hard work.
You paused and took a deep breath at his encouragement, leaving the both of you in silence while you caught your breath. “What about Eleanor?”
He smiled and looked at your sleeping baby, “It’s perfect,” he whispered.
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The first time Eleanor, who had quickly been nicknamed Nell, cried with the two of you in the room was also the first time Spencer held her. He had been too nervous before, not that he’d tell you that, but when her wails started and he saw you wincing as you sat up in the bed, he instinctively picked her up.
He was still in his work clothes. Granted, he had taken off his tie and the top two buttons of his shirt had been undone, but it didn’t seem to bother Nell, the baby had quickly hushed upon contact. “Sit back,” he gently instructed, “Are you in pain?”
You nestled back into the pillows, “Just a little, they said it’s normal.”
Nothing about this was normal, Spencer wanted to say, but he knew you were well aware. He handed you the baby, knowing that it had been two hours since she last ate and that was likely why she was crying. According to the nurses, she was a good eater. He took their word for it.
Spencer watched you rock gently as Nell ate, you were staring off at nothing, so he asked, “What are you thinking right now?”
“I’m wondering why you’re not more freaked out,” you admitted, looking down at the newborn.
He leaned back in the chair, “I don’t know. I work best under pressure and with a little bit of chaos. It’s also highly likely that the entire situation hasn’t fully sunken in yet.”
You nodded understandingly, “It’s a lot to take in. If you think about it, most parents have months to fully prepare and wrap their heads around it. It’s been about ten hours for me. Maybe six hours for you.”
Nodding, Spencer watched intently as Nell fell asleep, her tiny fists falling and quiet coos coming from her. He heard you say something to him, but the words didn’t process. “What?”
Giggling quietly, you cocked your head at him, “Do you want to hold her?”
“Uh, I don’t know,” he replied honestly. You seemed like you were taking to parenthood exceedingly well, he was afraid he wouldn’t match up.
In the end, it was your understanding smile that prompted him to agree. “Unbutton your shirt,” you ordered, laughing at him when he looked bewildered. “Skin-to-skin isn’t just for moms, Spence. Besides, I want you to bond. I want her to know who you are even when you’re away for work.”
He obliged your request, undoing his shirt so that he could gently place Nell on his bare chest. She squawked while she was being moved from parent to parent but quieted again as soon as she was being held, “she’s so small,” Spencer remarked, marveling at the tiny creature on top of him.
You nodded sleepily, “Four pounds, fourteen ounces. She had to fit behind my ribcage somehow.”
The oddness of the situation began to find a place in him. Were there changes in you that neither of you had noticed? Your period was always irregular, there was no significant weight change, and even morning sickness had seemed to totally pass you by. “I can’t believe we had no idea,” he murmured as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nell’s head.
“I went to the doctor three months ago for chest pains, do you remember? I took an at-home pregnancy test just in case and it came back negative. The nurses here told me that there’s a less than one percent chance of that happening,” you informed him, slowly starting to mumble.
Spencer looked up at you to find that your eyes were fluttering shut. “You should sleep. I’ve got this.”
You grunted in protest, “but what- “
“No,” he interrupted. “She just ate, she’s sleeping, and you’re exhausted. I can spend some time with her while you sleep.”
Sleepily, you grinned, sliding down on the bed, and settling your head on the pillows, “Daddy’s girl,” you whispered.
He loved the sound of that.
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you
You had always known that Spencer Reid was perfect, and as you watched him fall into the role of father, that knowledge became concrete. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and kept your gaze on the two of them, not daring to disturb the peace. Instead, you watched in awe as he held your daughter, softly speaking to her as if she could fully comprehend what he was saying.
For all you knew, she could understand what he was saying. She was Spencer’s kid, after all.
Gently, he whispered to her and one of her little fingers gripped his index finger. “Your palmar reflex lets you hold my finger like that, Nellie. It’ll go away when you’re six months old,” he softly swiped his thumb over her back as he murmured to her. “I don’t usually like surprises,” he admitted to the infant, “but you and your mama might just be the best thing to ever happen to me.”
You grinned, reaching your hand out and touching the green armchair, “I love you.” He reached out a hand to hold yours. “Do you want to try to get some sleep?” You offered. Your body still ached, but getting some sleep had made you feel loads better.
“I don’t think I can,” he answered candidly. “I feel so…”
“Wired? Stressed?” You suggested.
He shrugged slightly, “I was going to say hyperaware, but yes,” he responded.
You wheeled the empty bassinet closer to him, “Set her down. Babies can sense stress. Take a minute, catch your breath,” you told him.
Reluctantly, Spencer placed Nell in the bassinet, adjusting the hat on her head while you watched him. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly.
Your shoulders drooped involuntarily, “When was the last time you slept, love?” After years with Spencer, you know he would go days without sleeping in order to break a case. His lack of a response answered your question well enough. Quickly, you pressed your call button and asked if a nurse could take Nell to the nursery.
Once you made sure the baby was taken care of, you moved over in the hospital bed and patted the open space. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he told you.
That was the problem with Spencer. He would always put you, and now Eleanor, ahead of himself. It made your heart ache. “Spence, this has been the craziest day, and I can tell you haven’t slept. So, get over here and lay down with me,” you instructed.
Rolling his eyes, Spencer kicked off his shoes before lying next to you in the hospital bed, “Do you promise to wake me if you need anything?” He asked as he gingerly pulled you into his arms, afraid of hurting you.
You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“I hate that saying,” Spencer whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your hairline.
Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, “I promise, angel. Get some sleep.”
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You startled awake, looking to make sure you didn’t wake Spencer. Your chest ached as you sat up, cringing at the noise your papery hospital gown made. Gingerly, you placed a hand over your heart, feeling the pounding of your heart and listening to the beeping of the monitor, cursing the screen for making so much noise.
This had happened earlier before Spencer arrived, and the doctor had given you something to calm down then.
When you came into the ER, they thought your appendix was bursting, but when they did an ultrasound, they found that you were in active labor. There was no time for an epidural, they didn’t have time to give you anything for the pain. A kind nurse held your hand and quickly explained what was going to happen.
Within thirty minutes, you arrived at the hospital, gave birth, and had your baby taken to the NICU.
It was too fast; your brain was so overwhelmed that it had shut down. It seemed like a ridiculous thought; how did you miss the birth of your daughter?
Hiccupping back a sob, you felt a comforting hand on your back, but the fact that you had woken Spencer up just made you cry harder. He wrapped his arms around you, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s alright,” he cooed, rubbing small circles on your back. “I love you so much, you know that, right? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he comforted you. “It’s okay, it’s just all catching up with you, honey.”
You pulled away, wiping the tears from under your eyes. “It’s okay,” you repeated his words.
“What do you need right now?” He asked, smoothing your hair back. “Do you want to make a list? Do you want to move around?”
Nodding absentmindedly, you watched as Spencer pressed the call button and got up, helping you stand. Your legs shook, and you felt a bit like a foal, but it felt good to be out of bed. You haphazardly finger-combed your hair before stepping into hospital slippers and leaving the room. For now, the nurses instructed you to just walk around the maternity ward.
As the two of you walked around, you made several lists. Things you needed to buy. People you needed to call.
By the time you’d returned to the room, Ivy had returned. Spencer opened the door for you and helped you sit on the end of the bed.
“I’ve come bearing gifts,” Ivy greeted, grinning with bags in her hands. She gestured to a suitcase, “First, clothes for both of you. I just grabbed whatever I thought might be good. Toiletries and stuff too,” she said, rolling the suitcase off to the side. “I grabbed a couple of newborn outfits, but again, I was kind of flying blind. The lady at the department store was extremely helpful.” She handed Spencer a bag of baby clothes. “I got a car seat, the same lady recommended it, she was probably getting a commission, but it’s in my car. I have approximately zero idea how to set it up, but I figured, Spencer has a doctorate in engineering. He can do it.”
You glanced blearily at your best friend, “Ivy, you didn’t have to do all of this. This is too much,” you confessed, holding a tiny onesie in your hand.
She dismissed your insistence with a wave of her hand, “I also got this.” Ivy held out a small stuffed duck. “I know it won’t do her much good now, but I couldn’t help myself.”
After you changed out of your hospital garb, you looked at Spencer, “Go call Hotch, we’ll be good here for a while.” You gestured to your best friend, who was filtering through the suitcase she had packed, trying to find your hairbrush. At your request, he told you he’d also ask the nurse to bring Nell back down so that Ivy could meet her.
Once he was gone, Ivy sat behind you on the bed and brushed through your hair, tucking it out of your face, you were finally beginning to feel a little bit more like yourself by the time she had finished.
You watched intently as the nurse arrived at the door, “Do you want to meet her?”
Ivy nodded enthusiastically, lips parting as she observed the small baby. “Is that her name?” She rasped, looking at the card on the bassinet, Eleanor Ivy Reid. “That’s not funny, don’t joke about stuff like that.”
“Yeah,” you whispered, keeping your voice down as Eleanor slept. “It’s not a joke, and for the record, it was Spence’s idea,” you informed her, reaching into the bassinet, and scooping up the now-swaddled infant. “He’s so grateful that you were there for me, and I am too.”
She smiled, “I’m always going to be here for you two – you three now. Number one babysitter,” she said, pointing to herself. 
You sighed and looked from your friend to your daughter, “She’s got a whole FBI unit of babysitters.”
“I’ll be here when they’re away – when Spencer’s away,” she reminded you, carefully adjusting the hat on the baby in your arms.
The last thing you wanted to think of was Spencer being gone, leaving you to take care of a baby you weren’t ready for.
Ivy must have sensed your nerves, “Hey, you know I’m always in your corner, right?”
You nodded slowly, “It’s just all catching up with me. I have to call my mom. I have to call my boss. How do you retroactively apply for maternity leave?”
“One thing at a time,” she said soothingly. “Right now, just enjoy your time with your perfect little family. I’ll call your mom for you,” she offered. “If your boss gives you any grief, he’ll have to deal with me.” Standing up, she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to go get food, do you two still have the same orders from the deli?”
Confirming with her, you moved so that you could feed Nell, watching her as she looked up at you. “She’s right, you know? You are perfect,” you cupped her head with your hand, looking up to find Spencer watching from the doorway.
“Hotch says congratulations,” he spoke gently, striding over to your bedside and sitting on the edge of the bed. “He also said to let the team know if we needed anything,” he let you know, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He continued to let you know that Hotch had offered to figure out Spencer’s paternity leave, and while you felt bad about giving Hotch something else on his to-do list, it felt nice to have one less thing on yours. 
You nodded, “Ivy’s gonna call my mom, so that’s two things off of our list.”
Spencer squeezed your shoulder, “They asked if they could come to visit, but I didn’t want to answer for you.” He moved back to the armchair, “I just said we’d let them know.”
“At the very least we’ll send a picture,” you murmured. “I’m surprised you’re not researching newborns right now.”
Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “I asked one of the nurses if I could get access to the hospital library.”
You snorted, “Of course you did.”
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No one from the BAU ended up visiting while you were in the hospital, mainly because the idea of too many people in the one hospital room made you anxious, but both you and Eleanor had been cleared to go home. Eventually, you would have to allow visitors.
“Spencer, you can go the speed limit,” you said from the backseat of the car, not taking your eyes off of the baby in her car seat.
He glanced back in the rearview mirror, “This stretch of road is bumpy. I don’t want to wake her.” Despite his anxieties, he was taking to fatherhood remarkably well.
You shook your head, “She’s already awake, babe.” She looked around her new surroundings, spending part of the six hours a day that she was awake going home for the first time. Part of the beauty of a newborn was that they slept for eighteen hours a day, but only in about fifty-minute bursts.
Spencer kept glancing back, and you made a mental note to get a mirror for the rear-facing car seat.
As he turned onto your street, you sat up slightly. “Who’s here?” You asked, looking at the cars in your driveway. You recognized Ivy’s car, but none of the others rang any bells.
“That’s JJ’s car, and that’s Morgan’s truck,” Spencer told you as he pulled into the driveway. Once he got out of the car, he ran around to where you were sitting. He opened the door, taking the car seat out of its base before helping you out of the car. “I had no idea they were here,” he said curiously.
You hummed thoughtfully, looking at Eleanor in her car seat. There was a part of you that felt horrible, you didn’t have anywhere for her to sleep set up. Another part of you knew that she’d be just fine sleeping in your arms while Spencer set something up. “Far be it from the BAU to abandon one of their own in their time of need,” you murmured, stepping through the front door as Spencer held it open for you.
Setting the carrier on the coffee table, you undid the clips so that you could hold the baby. As you lifted her, her legs scrunched up until you held her to your chest, at which point she settled.
“Where are they?” You asked, gently rubbing Nell’s back as she started to fall asleep on you. You peeked around the corner into the kitchen, across the counter, there were bottles set out to dry, along with other various baby things. “Oh, Spence,” you breathed.
There was a distinct lack of boxes in your house, they weren’t entirely unpacked, but there were much less than there had been when you left. A crash from upstairs got both of your attention, Spencer’s arm instinctively going around your waist.
Together, the two of you walked upstairs, finding members of the BAU in one of the rooms that was going to be a guest room setting up a nursery. “Hey?” You said, peeking in through the doorway.
“Oh my god!” Penelope said, “Wait, crap, sleeping baby.” She covered her mouth with her hands, horrified at the idea of disturbing the sleeping infant.
You smiled, looking around suspiciously, “What’s going on here?”
Rossi waved a finger at you, “Your best friend is a drill sergeant is what’s going on here.”
Confused, you turned around to see Ivy with her hands on her hips. “I thought you weren’t coming home until the afternoon,” she explained, “I was going to have them all out of here so you could have a nice peaceful house.”
“You enlisted the BAU to unpack our house?” You asked her, tears pricking at your eyes.
Ivy shrugged, “It started as just asking a question, but we all came to the same conclusion. The two of you were never going to ask for help, so we had to take matters into our own hands.” She wiped her hands on her jeans, “Plus, they have kids, so they actually knew what you needed,” she gestured to JJ and Hotch.
You leaned forward to give her a one-armed hug, keeping yourself mindful of the baby. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Penelope hugging Spencer.
JJ stepped forward, “I’m around. Any questions you have,” she assured you. “How are you feeling?”
Laughing nervously, you looked up at Spencer, “Still reeling.”
The rest of the team laughed too, which brought you some semblance of comfort. “I almost thought you were playing a prank,” Emily confessed.
“No, you definitely thought they were trying to prank us. You didn’t believe them until they sent the picture,” Morgan said, exposing her.
Appalled, Emily rolled her eyes, but you spoke up, “I’m not sure I would have believed us either.” Had you not experienced it firsthand, you definitely would’ve been skeptical. Eleanor was going on two days old, and you had still woken up wondering if it was all some kind of dream.
Spencer had previously told everyone that no one could hold her. He was concerned about germs. You echoed his concerns, just maybe not as strongly. So, instead, everyone just cooed at her until Spencer gently ushered you into your bedroom.
You let out a sigh of relief when you spotted a bassinet set up next to your bed. Gently, you set her down while Spencer pulled the bedding down, “You should rest,” he told you softly.
“Spence, I just spent the majority of the last two days in a bed. I’m tired of bed,” you responded, sitting down on the ledge of the bed.
He hummed in response, “You just had a baby.”
Reaching out, you took his hands in yours, “Moving around will be good for me. I promise not to do anything to tear my stitches. I’ll just show Nell the house.”
“Babies don’t recognize their surroundings until four to six months, so she wouldn’t recognize anything you showed her anyway,” he told you.
You narrowed your eyebrows at him, “Spencer."
He held up his hands in concession, “Right, overbearing.”
“Hey,” you said softly, “We’re still figuring this out, right? So, we’ll take it one step at a time.” You offered, having already had an in-depth discussion about being okay with making mistakes. “Why don’t we go check out the nursery?” You stood up, watching as Spencer carefully picked Nell up, cradling her in his arms.
You led the way into the hallway to find JJ, Morgan, and Ivy finishing the nursery. Morgan and JJ moved the crib to a different side of the room while Ivy placed books on a shelf.
Ever so slightly, you leaned into Spencer, glancing at the sleeping infant in his arms, you reached over and cupped her head with your hand. “This is your family, Nell,” you whispered, smiling when Spencer leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.
That was your first lesson in parenthood, it really does take a village.  
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milky-aeons · 2 months
Text
'𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓
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ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and fyodor dostoevsky; what they would be like on their wedding day.
warnings: marriage, swearing, alcohol-intake, wife reader, w.c 3.5k
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ᯓ★𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔
: ̗̀➛ Dazai, who never really acted like a conventional human being, also did not propose like one, either. After dating the enigmatic Armed Detective Agent for, by then, two years, you did not expect him to get down on one knee and produce a beautiful ring, like you had seen in the movies. But you also did not expect him to drop the question like it was a frivolous thing one random Tuesday evening while you both shared a drink at your favourite late-night bar.
Blinking, your glass frozen mid-way to your lips, you turned to him and said, "What did you... just say?" That mischievous smile you were so quick to fall for flashed across his face. "I said, why don't we get married, hmm~?"
: ̗̀➛ There was no other answer in your mind, your heart, than a resounding yes. For he was the thorn in your side as much as he was your other half. Through the whirlwind of months following, you found it hard to discern where one day ended and the next began. Time bled together until you didn't have nearly enough of it, and the day of the ceremony was here. It was a casual affair not bound too tightly by tradition. By the help of the agents, an old, abandoned manor sitting by the riverside had been fashioned into your very own cathedral.
: ̗̀➛ Yosano Akiko fussed over your dress, your hair, your makeup — to a point where you thought she was having way too much fun. And yet, she left no stones unturned, either. As you walked in through the building decorated with bouquets of flowers and rows upon rows of familiar faces, she hooked her arm into yours and walked by your side. Using Thou Shalt Not Die, the doctor instructed fluttering, iridescent butterflies to sit against your dress and your veil, the cornet of your hair, any place she could in order to make you glow.
: ̗̀➛ He stood to his towering height at the alter with his back turned to you in an immaculate suit of white. And when he spun to face you, you fell in love for a second time — with his brunet hair tucked behind his ear, the blue rose pinned to his suit lapel and his eyes; how they watched you. With a type of stunned disbelief that melted into adoration. When you came to stand by his side in front of the pastor, his hand reached down to twine with your fingers, and he whispered;
"You — are absolutely breath-taking."
: ̗̀➛ Kyouka Izumi played the role of ring-bearer, delivering a small white pillow with the two shining bands once it was time to say your vows. Dazai reached out tenderly, slowly, as if to preserve this moment for as long as he could, and lifted the veil from your face. His eyes shuttered. He reached for your hand and slid the smaller band onto your finger, his eyes downcast, his voice low and intimate.
"Through you I have found what it means to love, what it is to feel human, and while I am by your side — I endeavour to protect and earn that title. For as long as I shall live, I am yours. My soul, my name, they are all yours."
: ̗̀➛ As the ceremony reached its closure, when you had both been bound to each other in heart and in soul, Dazai could not wait another moment before he could reach for you. As soon as the words you may kiss the bride left the pastor's lips, Dazai had looped his arms around your waist and bent you back into a dramatic dip. Cheers and claps filled the riverside chapel, you smiled widely against his lips, expecting nothing less of him. Your soulmate. Your husband. Your Osamu, who's name you brandished as your own.
𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 . . .
"Kunikida-kun~!" Dazai's loud voice, a little accentuated with alcohol, swam over the crowd. "Play the thing we talked about!"
Curious, your head turned to the sounds of footsteps shuffling onto the dancefloor illuminated by pale spotlights. The afterparty was in full swing, you had been flanked by a group of well-wishing women when your husband's voice reached your ears. Each of you observed as Dazai, alongside Kunikida, Junichirou, Atsushi and little Kenji took centre stage. Excited murmurs fluttered through the throng.
"What on earth are they doing?" You wondered, and then the starting notes to All The Single Ladies began blaring from the party speakers. Your mouth dropped. Every single one of the Armed Detective Agents began to move in unison to the beat of the music.
And for the third time, you fell in love with him, again. Expecting that there would be many more to come.
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ᯓ★𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎
: ̗̀➛ Kunikida Doppo, who, at first, had not planned to marry you. After all, you only met twenty out of his proposed fifty-eight requirements that made the perfect wife. That was the thing about your relationship, however — you had come into the agent's life unplanned, uninvited, and turned every one of his rigid ideals up on their heads.
: ̗̀➛ Yet it was only telling of the Idealist and his old habits, how Kunikida went about asking for your hand in marriage. It had been early on a weekday afternoon when he had called you into one of the private meeting rooms of the Agency's office. He'd pushed his glasses up the strong bridge of his nose and laid out his terms. He'd even written a business contract for you to sign. The page had gone flying in the air when you had tackled him from across the table. Smattering a thousand kisses against his blushing, flustered face and breathing the words yes, yes, you silly man, yes!
: ̗̀➛ To concur with both your family's wishes and his own, a traditional wedding was set in motion. Kunikida Doppo was always a man to abide by rules and regulations, but it had occurred to you that perhaps he was taking this affair a little too seriously. For your parents, he gifted them the very traditional shiraga thread. During the sake ceremony, the blond sat ramrod straight, moving mechanically to take sips from the three cups. One for past, one for present, and one for your future. Together.
: ̗̀➛ He was so serious, in fact, that you had become nervous on the morning of your wedding — your most beloved of friends helping you into your garments, trying to soothe your thoughts. What if he doesn't want to marry me? You would whisper as they fashioned your hair up. What if I've forced him into this, what if he's unhappy? To one of your many anxieties, your friend had met your eyes in the mirror, and smiled.
"Oh, honey," She chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "You should see the way that man looks at you."
: ̗̀➛ Her words played in your mind as the traditional music was strung during your procession to meet him. The black colours he donned made his long ponytail appear golden, his body strong, his face even more handsome. As he watched you come down the shrine walkway to be by his side, the blond reached up with one hand to push his glasses away and covered his eyes. It had taken you a few months after to realise that in that moment, Kunikida Doppo had shed a tear.
: ̗̀➛ It was not tradition for vows to be spoken, and yet Kunikida asked to say a few words as the ceremony drew to a close. You watched him carefully as he picked up the microphone, curious at the intentions he had. It was in that moment that your newly wed husband faced the crowd and brought the mic to his lips.
"First, I would like to thank you all for gracing our marriage with both your presence and your blessings. It is something we will see not to squander." "Second, I would like to say some thoughts of mine, if you would all be so inclined. Marriage, to me, was initially an agreement of convenience. I had the perfect woman laid out seamlessly. And in my wife that stands with me today, I say that she is not that perfect woman I so wished to find. But she is everything more. She is my best friend, she is my support, she is the person I go to sleep thinking of and wake up searching for. To me, she is my home, and I will take care of her fiercely."
: ̗̀➛ At your small reception, Kunikida was stolen away from you by some affiliates of the Armed Detective Agency and had his sake cup topped up one too many times. He found you afterwards, and proclaimed both his love and adoration for his newly-betrothed to everyone and anyone that was within a five mile radius.
𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . .
"Come here," You whispered to him, now in the comfort of your own apartment walls. A considerably uncoordinated Kunikida was struggling out of his Haorihimo, cursing in drunken slurs and promises of retribution to the small sliver of fabric.
Your fingers eased the cloth out from underneath his arms and you began to loosen the knot. Your husband was staring up at you from behind his crooked glasses. He swayed a little, and you stood in front of him, ready to support him if he went toppling forward off the bed.
But then, two strong, solid arms came up to the small of your back and he crushed you against him. Burying his head into your chest, he murmured;
"From the very first day I met you... I loved you. D'ya know that?"
Your heart grew tiny wings in your chest and began to sore. Smiling, you reached up, carding your fingers through his blond locks and undoing the tight ponytail.
"The first day you met me, you told me I was inefficient and lazy, my dear husband." You mused.
He grunted. "Same... thing."
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ᯓ★𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀
: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with Atsushi was one that blossomed slow and tenderly. It was a natural progression, after three years of happy dating, for the agent to ask you to marry him. Everything Atsushi Nakajima did in regards to showing his affection for you was always timid and reserved — you never expected it; the elaborate surprise he had waiting in store for you that morning you came into the Agency's offices just like you always did.
: ̗̀➛ Well, perhaps he had a little help from the other agents, for the office was barren when you entered. Your eyebrows had creased at the very uncharacteristic quiet of the usually chaotic area you worked in. You had checked the time, wondering if you had showed up a little too early on accident. But then, there was a voice — the voice of agent Dazai Osamu, shouting at you to come to the nearest window and to do so urgently—!
Each of the agents stood at the sidewalk, all holding up a sign with different characters that made up a whole sentence. A question. And Atsushi — your sweet, kind, caring Atsushi, was perched in the middle, the biggest bouquet of roses in his sheepish hands. Will you marry me?
: ̗̀➛ Both you and Atsushi decide to get married somewhere far removed from the city skyline of Yokohama. You wanted somewhere special to remember this day, and perhaps, the great outdoors and stretching greens spoke to Atsushi's beastly side a little more, too. So you chose the heart of a nearby woodland where a great, ancient willow tree served as your alter.
: ̗̀➛ Atsushi wore a suit of sky-blue. You wore a simple slip dress decorated with accents of lace and flowers, Kenji had twined some wildflowers into your hair. The fauna of the forest acted as your choir when you walked down the small trail of brambles to your soon-to-be husband who waited at the base of the winding trunk.
: ̗̀➛ The reception was held in a greenhouse funded by the Agency's private books — you and Atsushi were members, after all, so Kunikida took a little less persuading than usual to move his ledgers around. For lunch, you served chazuke, and when you took the first dance, Atsushi's eyes appeared more gold than they were violet as they looked at you so lovingly the whole time.
𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 . . .
"Atsushi, they'll notice that we're gone." You giggled, bunching your dress up so you could step over the little bush of thickets. When you both reached the winding roots of the willow tree you promised yourselves to each other underneath, Atsushi transformed his arms and legs into their tiger equivalents.
"Dazai-san said he'd keep everyone entertained." He whispered, and then stepped forward to wrap his soft arms around you. "Are you ready?"
"It may be a little late for second thoughts." You teased, but looped your arms around his slender neck and relaxed into his hold. The new golden band on your finger glinted in the moonlight.
And using that tiger-strength, Atsushi dug his claws into the ancient tree bark and began to climb. Higher and higher until you both broke through the canopy cover and could look to the millions of stars winking at you overhead.
"Oh, Atsushi." You breathed in awe, taking in the wonders above. "Oh, it's beautiful."
Your husband nuzzled into your hair and whispered, "Each one represents all the lifetimes I'd still find and fall in love with you in."
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ᯓ★𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀
: ̗̀➛ It had initially been you and your General lover's plan to keep your engagement quiet and have a small affair away from town. Just the two of you, because Chuuya thought some of his colleagues were insufferable pains in his ass, and all hell would break loose if they were to figure out they had a wedding plan on their hands. It was, however, unfortunate, that you two had been discussing what type of ceremony you'd like to have when Hirotsu was just about to turn one of the corners. It took exactly one hour for the entire Port Mafia to know. Two for it to reach the Armed Detective Agency.
: ̗̀➛ It was no longer a personal affair. This wedding became a spectacle within the Mafia's ranks. From the lowest levels all the way to the boss himself, everyone was abuzz with ideas and anticipation, excited that one of their top brass was getting married and they could all take advantage of the time off to have a grand party. Chuuya threatened to resign several times, you always laughed at how excited the entire criminal organisation became at the prospect of celebration.
: ̗̀➛ True to the boss' word, you and Chuuya's wedding was held in one of the grandest churches Yokohama had to offer — having mysteriously skipped the two year waiting list. The building was laved in gold and stain glass windows. Chuuya wore a fine suit of blood-red and a black tie that contrasted with his wild curls, his hard blue eyes. But when they saw you come down the aisle, they softened, and when he said his vows to you, you never thought anyone would look at you with such adoration ever again.
: ̗̀➛ The main event was held in the bowels of the Port Mafia — one of the largest show-rooms this organisation had to offer, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and a private band playing any songs they were requested. Chuuya, for the majority of your reception, could not seem to keep his hands off of you. If you were not by his hip, his eyes would instantly go searching for you within the throng of party-goers. When he did find you, he would place a hand to the small of your back, he'd lean in to kiss you and say;
"There you are, my wife."
: ̗̀➛ There was another reason as to why Chuuya Nakahara was originally so hellbent on taking your wedding somewhere more quiet and peaceful. And it came in the form of a brunet ex-partner waltzing into the organisation's party, a broad simper on his infuriating face. Dazai Osamu took your hand and kissed the back of it, extending his deepest sympathies and that if you ever needed to blow off steam, he could give you his number.
: ̗̀➛ The Port Mafia ballroom had originally started off with three grand chandeliers. After Dazai had purred those taunting words, there was then, only two.
: ̗̀➛ After the many shards had been swept from the floor by a cleaning crew, the private band struck an up-beat quartet. Both you and your newly-wed husband took to the floor for the first dance. Chuuya's hand splayed protectively against your back, his other gloved palm slotting into yours and guiding you to twirl, skip, spin.
𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 . . .
"Shit, sorry." He grumbled when your foreheads were touching, the proximity sending his breath fanning across your cheeks. His pointy canines were jutting against his bottom lip. "That motherfucker — he just makes me see red."
"Hey, it's okay." You said, catching his eyes. "Because I love you. You, Nakahara. I am all yours and no one else's."
Those words touched something deep within this man's chest. Of course, the proof that you were his sat in the form of two stacked rings on your left hand, but to hear it. To look into your beautiful eyes and see the amount of love there.
He surprised you by reaching down to your hips and lifting you up, twirling you around, around, around.
"And I'm forever yours, babydoll."
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ᯓ★𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘
: ̗̀➛ The initial letter you received from Fyodor asking for your hand in marriage — originally, you believed it to be fake. A shallow joke from someone who knew of you and the mastermind's occasional on-and-off relationship whenever he returned to your homeland. But as you traced the delicate loops of the handwriting that looked so much like his own, in the intimate moonlight beams of late night — you'd let yourself imagine. Hope. Only for it to swell and dwindle like ashes of a flame. Because there was just no way he would ask to marry you. That he would marry, at all.
: ̗̀➛ It was fitting then; how palpable your shock was when the slender, pale man you had accidentally fallen in love with — like a fool — was standing on the other side of your door that early morning. You had blinked hard, rubbed your eyes, wondered if you were weary from too many sleepless nights. When the stars had cleared from your vision, he was still there. An amused little smile stretched against his lips.
"So? Are you ready to get married?" You stared at him. And stared. And then dropped your morning cup of coffee onto the tiles of your hallway.
: ̗̀➛ At the news of your sudden betrothal, your family were both elated with a healthy dose of scepticism. Who is this man you are intending to marry, they fluttered around you with questions when you broke the news. Fyodor? I've never heard you speak of him, why do you intend to marry this man, girl? At that, you had smiled, not bothering to hide the small heat of blush on your ears, and murmured;
"Because he's a thief, and he stole my heart a very long time ago."
: ̗̀➛ The wedding was held in an old cathedral of gothic architecture. You don't think you've ever seen Fyodor look so refined; standing there in his simple suit of stone-grey with a black shirt. He had his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyebags were a little less pronounced, his skin brighter — but perhaps that was just the early-morning light. When you stood before your husband to-be and handed your heart over to him, for him, there was a shift in his eyes. You could not explain it, but you knew it ran deep. You knew that in his own way, he was also handing himself over to you. And you would accept all of him, just like you accepted his name.
: ̗̀➛ Much to the dismay of your family, you did not hold a wedding reception after the ceremony, but that was only because Fyodor decided to walk with you through the freezing streets of Moscow. He held your hand, and even though on many nights where you lay together he was stone-cold, today, he felt warm.
𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .
"Fyodor?"
"Hmm?" He answered, noticing the sheepish tone in your voice. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes.
"Why did you ask to marry me?"
Fyodor held your gaze for a long, pregnant second. It was at that moment that a single flake of snow fluttered down from the grey sky and landed on his immaculate suit. Then another. Each one the same colour as your dress, each one different to the rest.
Fyodor held out his hand to catch them. "Why does the snow fall? Because it is natural. It is meant to be. I married you because it is the way I wish to fall. With you, by my side."
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✎ . . . requested by the lovely @cocodrilofeliz!
WRITING REQUESTS
1K notes · View notes
sweetestdesire · 3 months
Text
A GUIDED HAND
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WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet aftercare. 18+ readers only
PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Quinn Hughes knows exactly how to take care of Fem!Reader after intense sex.
Y/N slowly opened her eyes. Everything was fuzzy and heavy, yet she felt that warm tingly all behind her eyes. It was a few moments before the aches and pains began seeping in. She was dimly aware of lying on her left side, but everything else was a hazy ache.
She groaned as more and more aches began to wake up with her. Her lips were tender when she tried to wet them with her tongue. A rush of sensations flooded in as she shifted. From her shoulders, to her back; there were far too many aches and dull pains to name all at once. It was difficult just attempting to move.
A soft voice said, "Good, you're awake."
Y/N's eyes cracked open as her mind struggled to understand why those words were important to her. The room was dimly lit from light streaming in from an open door in the distance. The door was only about half way open.
"Here, baby." Quinn said gently, something moving before her face. It was just a gray blob. "Open your mouth."
Y/N opened her lips, and something softly brushed between them.
"Sip. Slowly." He firmly instructed in a soft voice. She tried to sip, but found herself to be struggling. On her second attempt, something cool and wet came into her mouth. "Swish the water around in your mouth, then swallow."
With an effort, Y/N did so. Immediately, her mouth felt better with the blessed moisture. And when she swallowed, her throat burned at first, but that quickly passed.
His hand gently caressed over the side of her head, beyond her eyes and above her ear. "Good girl. Take a couple more sips, sweetheart."
Her world became about that blissful water. Soft sip, swallow, soft sip, swallow, soft sip. Her aches seemed to ease bit by bit as the soothing water permeated her. His hand lovingly caressed over the side of her head and cheek. His touch and the water she sipped made all the aches fade away. She was beginning to sink back into that fuzzy haze again when Quinn spoke again.
"Y/N," Quinn paused a moment before continuing in more stern tone. "You've been such a good girl for me, but you're sinking again. I need for you to stay with me. Can you do that?" The hand left her cheek and the straw was withdrawn. "Focus, baby."
She blinked several times, dragging her mind back from the brink of that wonderful place.
"Shit, I really wore you out, didn't I?" He mumbled, softly.
"Yes." She mumbled weakly, beginning to sit up.
"Sh, sweetheart. I didn't ask you to sit up, did I?" His hand pressed gently to her shoulder, preventing her from rising.
"No. I'm sorry, Quinny." She whispered.
"Hey, none of that. It's okay, you're okay. Look at me." He cooed soothingly, as she started to look around. He tilted her head up to look at him, his eyes looking down to meet her gaze with love and concern. "You did good, baby. So good. Always my perfect girl."
He gently slid his thumb across her mouth, and she looked up at him, her eyes pleading. "Go ahead." Quinn said with a smile.
Eagerly, she started sucking on his thumb, her tongue sliding along the pad of his thumb as she suckled it. He watched as she came back to him, coming back to the surface.
His warm hand returned to the side of her face and head, soothing her with slow strokes. "That's my girl." He said with praise. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere. l've got you."
Finally, she looked up at him, letting his thumb fall from her mouth and she smiled at him. "Hi." She whispered, shyly.
"Hi, baby." He said and gently kissed her lips. Before her lips could form words, Quinn continued. "You've done so well. Beautifully and wonderfully well." His hand ran reverently over her hair. "I need for you to do something for me."
His hand left her hair and she felt his hand gently tug her hand ever so gently. "I need for you to stand up. Do you think you can do that?"
As if the words went right into her muscles and deepest core of her very being, Y/N rose to a sitting position, her legs going over the edge of her bed. With a deep breath, she slowly pushed herself to her feet. Standing on shaky legs, she straightened, eyes straight ahead. Suddenly, she realized that she was freezing. She could feel the cool air upon her skin.
"You're doing great, sweetheart." His soft hand cupped her cheek. "I know you're cold, but it will only be just for a second." He spoke sweetly, the usual gravel and bass in his voice fading with every word as his arm hooked underneath her and around her waist, pulling you into his arms with ease, letting her wrap her legs around his hips as her head rested against his shoulder.
With Y/N still in his arms, Quinn set the tap on the bath running, pouring in some of your favorite bubble bath and letting it run. His hand was quick to brush her hair out of her eyes as he looked at her with a gaze of pure adoration. “I’ve never seen a girl so beautiful and so good, I’m so proud of you.”
Quinn set her down with her backside pressed against the cool bathroom counter, the cool sensation helping her to regulate the way her skin was hot with pleasure. He grabbed her hairbrush, taking a few moments to brush through the knots that occurred as her head tossed against the pillows. Y/N was still breathing heavily as she let his delicate fingers make light work of brushing through the knotty strands. He smiled at her every time he caught her staring at him, enamored by the way his biceps flexed and his own breathing regulated.
Quinn went to put down the brush on the counter, his hands going to trace small circles on her lower back. “How are you feeling, baby?”
“Like I’m on cloud nine. Thank you for taking care of me.” Y/N softly smiled at him, her free hand pushing his hair out of his face as the other brushed it, cheekily using her leverage to pull him into a kiss and earning a satisfied chuckle from him against her lips as his hands moved upwards, nails grazing against her skin before resting either side of her neck, holding her into the kiss a little longer, leaving gentle pecks against each other’s lips as they pulled away from each other.
“I’ll always be here to take care of you. Are you ready to get you into the bath?”
Y/N nodded eagerly as Quinn gently helped you off the counter, arms wrapping around her again as he smothered her with a bear hug, a giggle falling from her lips as he finally let her go to check the temperature of the water, letting her use his shoulders as stabilization as she climbed into the tub.
“Are you staying?” Y/N asked sweetly, hands still pressed against his shoulders as she stood with her feet in the warm, bubbly water.
Quinn pressed his hands against her hips, biting the inside of his lip as he thought. “Do you want me to?”
Y/N nodded quickly, letting him step into the tub with her, pulling her down and into the water with him, her back pressed against his chest while his large hands scoop up the warm, bubbly water, letting it run down her shoulders and over her chest as he took her hands in his, interlacing their fingers as they sat in the water together blissfully. The ambient sounds of the water movement as well as his steady breathing helped bring her back down to earth.
He then released her hands and reached back to grab one of their many loofah's and Y/N's favorite peach body wash. He soaked the loofah in the warm tub water, then as he stood, put some body wash on it. She blushed as her boyfriend began to methodically wash her.
Starting at her neck, Quinn pulled up her hair up to wash around her neck and over the backs of her shoulders. He moved slowly, and gently. Y/N's eyes suddenly slid closed, as it felt too good.
Quinn chuckled softly. "Yeah, just relax and enjoy it, baby. You've definitely earned it."
The loofah worked between her breasts, below them, around and over. They were tender, though thankfully her nipples seemed to have checked out and didn't respond to the material going over them. She couldn't help but arch and push her chest out as it seemed he wanted to make sure they were extra clean.
Then it was time for her stomach, up and down her sides, and then she was told to turn. His hands were upon her as she turned, keeping her steady as she slowly turned. The washing of her back was rougher. With the many impacts of the last three hours, Y/N couldn't help but let out soft whimpers when particularly sensitive spots were bathed.
"You're doing absolutely amazing. Always so good for me." Quinn whispered as he worked.
With the warmth of the bathroom, her eyes closed as he worked over her skin. She swayed and he chuckled as he pushed a hand to her back to steady her. The loofah worked down her back, then along her ass.
"Some of these must be so sore." He mumbled to himself as he ran the lootah over her cheeks.
Thankfully, it only ached like rubbing a bruise, but it snapped Y/N fully awake. The loofah was rinsed in the warm water, re-soaped, and her ass and back of her thighs were washed again. He knelt down and bathed the rest of her thighs, and all the way to her feet.
Standing with his arms coming around her, he had a bar of lavender scented soap in his hands, and gently lathered his left fingers and palm. "One last detail, sweetheart."
Quinn carefully lathered around her sex, and then opened her outer lips to lightly wash there with the remainder of soap on his fingers. Reaching to the side of the tub, he pulled up the tub hose, ran it a moment into the water below, tested it with his left hand, and rinsed Y/N from neck downward. Again, he opened her outer lips to make sure he got all the soap. Once sure she was rinsed in the warm water, Quinn replaced the nuzzle into its respectful place.
Leaning in close behind Y/N with his chest pressing gently into her back, Quinn whispered into her left ear, "Sit back towards me again, between my legs."
In an instant, he had his arms wrapped around her shoulders, while pressing butterfly kissing to her temples, neck, and shoulder.
"Are you doing okay?" He asked, softly.
"Yes." She whispered, starting to turn her head towards him. "I'm just a bit tired. I really like it when you're rough in bed." She blushed, shyly.
"Do you now?" He had a smug, proud look on his face, teasing her with no remorse.
"Quinn." She whined, settling herself against him.
He chuckled breathily, grabbing her by the jaw to place small kisses wherever he could to the side of her face. Once he felt it was enough, he decided to end it with a small bite to her cheek. "I'm happy you enjoyed it."
"Gross." She groaned, feigning disgust and wiping her cheek with her hand.
"I literally spit in your mouth an hour ago, Y/N." Quinn said, confusion written all over his face.
"Shut up." She retorted, her cheeks absolutely blazing.
The two sat in the tub for a while, just relaxing and relishing each other's company. Time became meaningless as Y/N laid there. The warm water just up to her nipples, the wonderful mixture of peach and vanilla, the loving arms and legs of Quinn wrapped around her, and the occasional squeeze of the arms about her.
"I hate to do this, baby." Quinn whispered into her left ear. "But it's time to get up. The water is starting to cool."
Aftercare with Quinn was always one of her favorites. He took such good care of her; whispered loving words, held her close, tended to any and all of her needs, whether it was that she was feeling cold, hungry, or just needed to cuddle. Whatever it was, he gave it to her. He was ready to give her the moon and the stars from the sky had it been in his power to do so.
And, of course, Y/N didn’t have anything against the events leading to the aftercare, quite the contrary, even if it meant a dull ache between her legs, some bruises on her hips and a few hickeys along her neck and collarbones, like now. Quinn’s eyes moved past the bruises and he smiled apologetically as he handed her a warm towel.
She watched him with warm eyes. “It’s fine, really.”
“I’ll be more careful next time.” Quinn said while he gave her another kiss on the forehead. “When you’re ready, there’s pajamas waiting for you on the bed. I’ll go prepare the ice cream.”
“Chocolate ice cream?” Y/N asked hopefully, slowly massaging the soft towel against her wet hair.
He winked at her with a grin. “As always.”
Moments later, Y/N was dressed in the comfortable pajamas, wrapped inside of a blanket and sitting snugly between Quinn’s legs, resting against his chest and holding a bowl of ice cream in her hands. One of his hands was running through her hair while the other one was fiddling with the remote control as he surfed through Netflix in search of her favorite show.
“Ah, there, the second row!” Y/N said suddenly and pointed at the TV excitedly. He let out a knowing sound and kissed the back of her head.
“I almost missed it.” Quinn said quietly and pressed play, allowing the sitcom to start. He put the remote down and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin against the top of her head slightly.
“I love you so much.” He whispered, tightening his arms a little but loosening them again when she laughed and said that it was difficult to eat. He smiled to himself and let his eyes slowly move from her ice cream bowl to the TV. “Is there anything else you’d like, baby?”
Y/N placed the bowl on her lap and wiped the corners of her mouth, pondering for barely a second. “One thing would be nice.” She said as she lifted her head so that she was looking up at Quinn. He raised his eyebrows, eyes soft with love and lips in a small smile. She grinned and placed a hand on his cheek. “A kiss, please.”
“Your wish is my command.” He said with a chuckle, leaning down to kiss her sweetly on the lips, teasing them with his tongue only enough to get a slight taste of the chocolate ice cream.
After that came another kiss until they were both wrapped inside of the cozy blanket, Y/N sitting comfortably on his lap with his arms around her, his hands caressing her side and leg as the sitcom played in the background with a quiet volume.
Y/N was barely aware of his movements as she laid there floating in a lightless, soundless void, feeling spent and blissful. She remembered something about a warm, soft bed with thick, heavenly pillows for under her head, and a comforter that could not have been anymore lovely than if it were sent by God.
She faintly recalled feeling Quinn’s warm body behind her, an arm draped over her waist and words that made her grin happily as darkness overtook her. "Love you, sweetheart."
998 notes · View notes
sincerelyneo · 29 days
Text
wildflower | z.cl
“you know you are my favourite fantasy”
💿now playing: wildflower by 5 seconds of summer
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❯ summary: Chenle just has to make it through one more round of twister. Then, you and his friends can leave and he can take care of the boner growing in his pants from your limbs grazing over his crotch every turn. Yeah, that’s his plan. Just one more round.
❯ pairings: chenle x fem!reader
❯ genre: friends to lovers, smut
❯ words: 4.0k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, light petting, male masturbation, explicit descriptions of chenle's thoughts while he gets off, voyeurism, hand jobs, literally just horny chenle, reader uses she/her pronouns.
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"Chenle, left foot, green," Jisung announces.
It's just a game of Twister, Chenle keeps reminding himself as the colourful spinner dictates his next move. So why is he feeling so flustered? He needs to get a grip. Like he said, it's just a fucking game for Christ’s sake, one that families play on holidays. There's no reason for him to be turned on right now, but he is.
"Dude, will you hurry up? I don’t think I can handle Jaemin's ass in my face much longer," Haechan grumbles from his awkward position on the board, head perched to the side to avoid eye contact with the back of Jaemin's jeans.
"Stop pretending you don’t love my ass." 
Chenle feels no sympathy for Haechan; after all, this stupid game was his idea. He's the reason Chenle keeps having to conjure up the most unsexy thoughts imaginable to suppress the growing bulge in his pants.
It all started with a trip to the mall earlier in the day. Chenle had turned his back for just five minutes to go to the bathroom, and when he returned, he found his friends gathered around the ridiculous board game on the shelf. 
"Come on, it'll be fun," Haechan insisted, while Jaemin practically bounced with excitement. 
Chenle thought it was stupid; he's never been any good at Twister. But they all begged and pleaded to buy the game instead of sticking to the original movie night plans Chenle had organised for their traditional Friday night hangouts. And truthfully, Chenle had no intention of playing the game, let alone buying it. That is, until you stepped off the wall you were leaning against to join the conversation.
You strode over to pick up the box Haechan was clutching onto and inspected it. Chenle's gaze was fixed on your fingers as they tapped the package gently. It was surprising how everyone instantly fell silent from the shock of you wanting to get involved in their antics for a change.
 "Come on, Lele, Haechan has a point. It does look fun," you encouraged.
Chenle's attention immediately shifted to your puppy-dog eyes, and he swore they were strong enough to break his willpower. Or maybe it was the way your lips protruded in a practised pout, staring up expectantly at him. Actually, now that he thinks about it, it was definitely the soft and eager "Please," that you uttered that had him heading straight to the counter with the box and his wallet. 
That's what landed him here now. Stupid you and your stupid eyes and your even more stupidly cute smile.
“Chenle did you hear me?!” Jisung waves the spinner in front of his face, “Left foot, green.”
He snaps back to attention, finally shifting his left foot to a green circle. 
“Fucking finally,” Haechan murmurs, “Sung, spin it for me.”
Jisung complies, giving Haechan his next instruction. Haechan begins to twist his body through the gap between Jaemin’s legs – he just needs to stretch a little more to reach the blue target in his vision. But then…
“Ow, what the fuck?!” Jaemin groans, his ass crashing down on the board from Haechan’s manoeuvring between his limbs. 
“That was totally your fault! If you didn’t wriggle your body at the last second I wouldn’t have—”
"Nobody cares, Haechan. You're out. Off the board," Chenle grits through his teeth. He can't stand the arguing; it only prolongs the silly game for him, and he doesn’t want that – he doesn't need that. He just wants to get this all over with.
But as Haechan and Jaemin move away from the board he realises that won’t be so easy because you and him are the last two players standing. Chenle gulps, the realisation hitting him like a truck. He’s the only player left that you can tangle your limbs up with. 
He doesn’t need this – this is what he’s been trying to avoid thinking about all night. You’ve only innocently brushed him this round, nothing overtly explicit. But just seeing you contort and arch alone was enough to trigger a twisted fantasy in his mind. 
Chenle considers forfeiting. Sure, he's a little competitive, but he’d rather lose than pop a boner in front of all his friends while playing the old-school classic game of Twister. He also knows Haechan would complain, insisting that the winner was rigged and therefore there needs to be a rematch. Chenle does not need a rematch.
He just needs to focus. Keep his head in the game for a little while longer. Then, you and his friends can leave. Yeah, that’s the plan. He just needs to breathe. 
Chenle composes himself, hastily waving his finger in Jisung’s direction. “It’s her spin.”
“Y/N, right-hand yellow.”
You’re already reclining, distributing your weight between a palm and a back foot. And you’re just as competitive, so when Jisung issues the instruction, you aim for the dot directly beneath Chenle but still behind him, manoeuvring beneath him for your hand to brush past his thigh before landing on the target.
Chenle almost stumbles at the slight touch, and it makes you raise an eyebrow. Was he ticklish or something? 
“Y/N, that’s cheat–” 
“Oh, so when she touches you, it’s cheating, but when Jaemin wiggles, I get told to get off the board,” Haechan complains. “I see how it is.” 
“Be quiet, Haechan,” Jisung says, and Chenle is thankful for the intervention as he shushes the boy and flicks the spinner with his hand. “Left hand, red.” 
Chenle looks down at the position you’re both in right now. So far, luck had been on his side as he was still on two feet, but you, you were on all fours and very close to him. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about looking down to see you pooled at his feet, looking up at him with pretty eyes, but he never imagined it like this.
The fact that this is all happening in front of his friends should be enough to kill his boner, but he’s still turned on. Not only was just the position of you on all fours tantalizing enough to begin with, but your last spin caused arms to cross over one another, pushing your breasts together. 
Damn. 
Chenle bites the bullet and goes for it, his body fully covering yours as he plants his right hand in front of him. In theory, his plan sounded like a good idea; if he places his right hand on the red dot behind you, he can just hover over you and then he won’t have to see you looking up at him with those pretty tits, he so desperately wants to fuck, on display. 
But that was all in theory, because Chenle may have overlooked one massive fatal flaw. The new position places his crotch right in front of your face, and Chenle hadn’t even registered that until he could feel your hot breath against the fabric of his sweatpants. 
This is not good.
Chenle can’t help but panic, he knows being like this, his clothed cock so close to your lips, he’s not gonna be able to hide his growing erection any longer. His cheeks flush, he doesn’t know how much more he can take, but he still tries to compose himself. 
It’s just a game of twister.
“Y/N, right-hand green.”
Chenle thanks the heavens when he hears Jisung tell you to move your right hand because it’s that hand that’s already put him in this stupid predicament. You move to a red dot and it helps create some space between your lips and his groin. And Chenle thinks the Earth is finally on his side, because Jisung’s next instruction is for him. 
“Left-hand blue.”
This seems perfect, he thinks. He can simply shift the hand that caused him to hover over you behind him. That should work. And it does, but only for a little while. Because on Jisung’s next instruction, you’re reaching over Chenle's shoulder with a hand, but your reach isn’t quite good enough, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep himself balanced on one arm. 
Then it happens – you land on top of him, and the room fills with whoops and cheers as the game comes to an end. But Chenle can’t comprehend that because all he can think about is you, and how your body is pressed on his, tits crushing him and looking so delectable. 
He sees you laughing, and God, how he adores your smile. He almost loves it as much as he loves how close you are to him, almost. You feel so warm, and he wants you to stay there forever, wrapped up in him as he... well, his thoughts suddenly take a more heated turn.
Damn, he’s getting hard.
No, fuck, he’s getting hard with you on top of him.
Without hesitation, Chenle brushes you off him and rises to his feet. He hastily adjusts his sweats to conceal his bulge, but nothing can disguise the sudden shift in his mood, which casts a frosty chill over the atmosphere.
“Dude, you good?” Mark asks. 
“Yeah, I'm fine,” Chenle responds, his voice strained as he tries to sound casual. 
The vibes in the room have turned awkward, suffocating almost. All he can think about is you, and he just wants this whole shit show to be over.
“Hey, why don't we call it a night?” he suggests, trying to mask the urgency in his tone. “I mean, it's getting late, and I'm sure we all have stuff to do tomorrow.”
You exchange glances with the others, sensing Chenle's unease, but you all agree to pack up and leave. As you gather your things and head towards the door, Chenle can't shake the image of you out of his mind. All he wants is to be alone, to explore the thoughts and desires that have been swirling in his head ever since the game started – he wants to deal with his boner.
Once you’re gone, Chenle lets out a sigh of relief, finally able to breathe again. But even with the apartment empty, his mind is still consumed by thoughts of you. He knows he needs to get a grip, but the memory of your touch, your laughter, lingers in the air, and he can't help but crave you.
He can’t control himself anymore, he just feels so needy. He sits down on the sofa, eyes fluttering shut as he thinks. He lets his tongue slip out from between his lips and one hand travels down his body, over his hoodie until he reaches the waistband of his sweatpants. 
He can still feel the warmth of your breath there, and he’s harder than a rock, but this time there's no need to hide it. He wastes no time slipping inside the fabric to palm himself, his hands cool and rough. He savours the feeling of rubbing his long, thick length slowly with both hands, imagining it's your body taking him in, and filling you to the hilt.
You.
The girl he could never quite shake. The girl who Jisung had introduced to the group a couple of years ago. The girl who started hanging out with them more often, securing her invite to ‘boy’s night’ at his place. The girl who he’d found himself having the same interests as. The girl who was seconds ago brushing soft fingers over his body while playing Twister.
His friend.
His mouth parts and he thrust his cock up into his fisted hands. Precum lubes the tip of his head as he spreads it around with his thumb, gently rubbing the slick up and down himself. Needing more glide, he spits into his hand and rubs it down his length, coating his cock. He knows that when he finally gets to bury himself inside of you he won’t need spit, you’ll be fucking soaking for him, he’ll make sure of it.
He squeezes his eyes shut and groans. He needed this, badly. It had been a long night of your body bending, spinning and twisting – and fuck – remembering the way your back curved so delicately in the first round. 
Not to mention you’d worn leggings that clung to your skin and a T-shirt that dipped low enough to flash everyone. Skimpy shit that you insisted were your ‘comfortable clothes’. He doesn’t believe that for a second – but he’s not complaining. They may have killed him when he was trying to hide his arousal, but now he’s glad he’s got a more accurate image for his thoughts. 
Thoughts that include him wanting nothing more than to feel your body beneath his, sweating and used. Panting. Hair wild and a mess, as his fingers explore every inch of your flesh. He wants you wet enough that your arousal seeps over your thighs. He wants his cum dripping out your mouth, down your chin, and pooling on your tits.
He wants you filthy.
Fuck.
He palms himself up and down again, gritting his teeth and throwing his head back against the sofa.
He wants to bend you over, stretch you out. He wants to make you beg for him, writhe for him. Mould you to be his perfect little toy. If you could see him panting as he indulgently strokes himself to thoughts of you he’s sure you’d be flushed, embarrassed. 
The image has him shuddering and thrusting his cock up into his hand again. And again. And again. 
Fuck. What would you say if you knew? If you walked in and saw him?
You couldn’t blame him. Nobody forced you to insist on the game of Twister. Nobody forced you to trace your delicate little hands across his legs and arms and shoulders as you found the coloured circles. Nobody forced you to stumble on top of him, your grip holding his shoulders to find balance, immediately triggering his mind with thoughts of you riding him. 
And fuck – nobody forced you to be that flexible. 
His arms begin to ache at the punishing speed, but he couldn't stop. He wouldn’t stop. It felt too good. He hisses at the smooth glide over the sensitive underside of his head, head falling back again as he curses. 
He knows you’d beg for it - just like he is.
“Fuck, Y/N…”
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You and Haechan are making your way through Chenle’s building, en route to the parking lot. Haechan had insisted on you driving him home tonight, citing that "Ubers are too expensive in this economy." But as you both walk towards the car, your mind starts to wander.
Chenle's behaviour tonight was odd.
He never ends your Friday night hangouts early, and his sudden shift in demeanour was quite... uncharacteristic. Moreover, he's usually very competitive, yet there were numerous instances during the game where he could have easily nudged or jostled you, but he refrained. It was almost as if you were a hot stove, and he feared getting burned by touching you.
Was he coming down with a cold or something? Whatever it was you don’t like it, and you’re about to ask Haechan about it. However, as your hand reaches into your jacket pocket, you realize: shit, you left your car keys.
"Mind waiting here? I left my keys back there," you inform Haechan and he looks at you unimpressed. 
He groans dramatically, “Y/N, it’s freezing out.”
"Relax, I'll be back in five minutes tops," you assure him.
 "I knew I should've gone home with Jisung.”
 You quirk an eyebrow, "What was that?" 
"Nothing, just hurry up." 
You return to Chenle’s building, taking the elevator up and walking down the halls. You hoped he hadn’t retired to bed if he was feeling unwell. Unfortunately, you can't even send him a quick text because your phone is with your keys.
You're slightly puzzled as you reach Chenle's door and find it open just a crack, unusual for him as he typically locks up immediately after everyone leaves. Concern creeps in — did something happen to him?
Anxiety triggers, and though you know you should knock and give him some warning that you're entering his apartment, your rational mind seems to switch off. And then it fogs because you just realised what you’ve just walked into.
Chenle’s head is thrown back with shut eyes, lips parted just a touch as he fists his cock. He groans, the motions causing a loud sloppy sound. His hand goes past the base of his cock and he grabs his balls, tugging at them with a whine. 
He fucking whined. 
You have to fight every urge not to gasp because the sight sends heat to the place between your legs, wetness pooling in your panties because he looks so hot, so unfiltered, raw and erotic. His face is so relaxed, his breath uneven, and you wonder what has got him so worked up. He looked like he was ready to kill moments ago. 
“Fuck Y/N…”
What the fuck?
Chenle sounds like he’s on the brink of an orgasm…to your name. Were you hearing it correctly? If only you could see better, peer further into his apartment, and realize that you'd made this whole thing up, then you could relax – you could curse your mind for playing such a cruel hot joke on you.
So you do, you creek the door open and that’s when you see his abs begin to quiver and his eyebrows knit tighter together. It was visible that he was getting close and he let out an involuntary yell, hips bucking as his hand pumps harder.
Your thighs rub together, and your legs threaten to tremble from the sight. You'd never imagined yourself being so turned on from watching someone else get off, but here you are, and you don't think you've ever been more aroused. 
And perhaps you’re a little too aroused because you don’t even realise that Chenle’s hand has stopped stroking because he’s staring straight at you, eyes wide looking like a deer in headlights. His cheeks are red and he’s awkwardly stuffing his very hard cock back into his sweats. 
“Oh shit! Fuck! I’m sorry,” you stumble over your words as you turn around, giving him a little bit of privacy. 
Chenle is at a loss for words. While he might have entertained the idea of you catching him, he never expected it to actually happen. And he certainly hadn't anticipated just how hot the glint of lust in your eyes as you watched him would be.
“No, it’s my fault…I should have locked the door.”
You’re still facing away from him, looking at his apartment walls when he stands to his feet and walks closer to you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body as he settles behind you. It’s a delicious warmth and if you weren’t just caught being a fucking perv, you would have let yourself bask in it. 
“N-No, I should have knocked, I just came to get my keys, I’m so so sorry–”
“Y/N will you just look at me?”
He cuts you off and you feel him wrap a hand around your wrist. You wonder if it’s the same one that was wrapped around his cock and – fuck Y/N – now is not the time. 
His gentle tug compels you to turn around and face him. You can't bring yourself to meet his eyes; instead, yours remain fixed on the floor. Still, you can feel the intensity of his gaze burning into your forehead.
"How long were you standing there?" His voice breaks the silence, prompting your mouth to open and close, resembling a fish for a moment as you process his question. 
"I-I um, not long," you stammer out.
“Not long?” He raises an eyebrow, “Were you planning on standing there until I came or what?” 
Your mouth goes dry as the realization dawns upon you because, yes, that's exactly what you were planning on doing. You wanted to witness what he looked like when he reached his climax, to see if he could possibly look any sexier than he already did as an orgasm washed over him.
“Lele—”
"You know," his finger reaches up to rest beneath your chin, trailing along your jawline until he has a firm grip, coaxing your eyes to meet his. "If you wanted to see me cum, the least you could have done was offer to help."
"W-what?" Your eyes widen in surprise.
"You heard me," he smirks confidently. "You gonna help me or what, Y/N?"
You bite your lip and nod, your hand dances along the hem of his sweats slipping inside to feel the length of his cock. It twitches in your grasp, and it doesn’t surprise you since he looked so close to his peak only seconds ago. 
Chenle sucks in a breath, he’s thought about this moment plenty, and today specifically, he’s been so pent up about it. He focuses on the feeling of your touch, slow but effective as you tease him. And Chenle swears he almost drools at the sight of you collecting his precum and licking it off your thumb – it’s so filthy – just as he fantasised.
The sounds coming from his mouth are heavenly and sinful all the same, echoing in your ears. Your hand hovers over his length again, only starting to stroke when he bucks his hips. The rutting of his hips forces you to quicken the pace and his breath is all but shallow gasps. 
Chenle can’t help the way his abdomen tenses, and his eyes find themselves falling on your low-cut top that had earlier been teasing him with your tits as you contorted your body for a stupid board game. Chenle thinks the view paired with your vigorous stroking might be enough for him to blow his load in his pants.
He's whining. He needs it. He’s chasing it. 
He spasms as you continue frantically fucking him with your fist. He meets your touches grunting and cursing with every thrust. He bites down hard on his lips when you grab his balls cupping and pulling and squeezing until you know his high is ready to hit him like a steam train.
Chenle’s body tenses, thrusting his cock as hard as he can manage. His stomach contracts as stars cloud his mind and he moans out your name. His body has never been hit by this much blinding bliss before – especially not from just a hand job. But still, his legs buckle and he has to steady himself on the wall behind him.
“Fuck Y/N! Just like that, gonna cum.”
Unashamed, his eyes roll back as cum shoots violently from his pulsing cock and all over your hand. His voice rings out clear and desperate with yells in the air. Long strings of hot cum coat your fingers, each rope eliciting another groan. Another clench. Another bliss.
You bite your lip, relishing the explicit sight of Chenle as he rides out his orgasm. Despite being soaked through with arousal yourself, your own pleasure takes a backseat; witnessing him in such a state – sweat glistening on his forehead, eyes glazed with ecstasy – is more than enough to satisfy you.
As you withdraw your hand from his sweats, you both gaze at the white substance coating your fingers. You're almost tempted to tease him with it, to watch him shiver as you lick it off your fingers, but that fantasy is abruptly cut short when the front door swings open.
“Seriously how hard can it be to find some damn keys—”
Haechan takes one glance at your glistening hand and the wet patch on Chenle’s pants and puts the pieces together. Then, he looks at you his eyes squeezing as he grimaces.
“If you left me in the freezing cold for fifteen minutes to give Chenle a fucking hand job, I'm going to kill both of you."
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zqcky01 · 3 months
Note
omg i love your alastor fic, can i get one where alastor's s/o is from the victorian times so she's teaching him how to properly ballroom dance
Learning Takes Time.
Alastor x Victorian Era! Reader
In which, you teach Alastor how to properly ballroom dance.
A/N: AHH!!! I LOVE THISJDBDKWJEMDKSNEJDJSNEEN TYSM FOR REQUESTING 🙏🙏 I HOPE YOU LIKE IT POOKIE!
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“Dear?” Alastor called to you softly. His smile shines towards you. “Ah—! Hello, my love.” You said, smiling happily, placing the book you were reading down onto your lap. You wore a Victorian ball gown, with pearls. Making your s/c(skin color) stand out. Titling your head to the side, “What can I help you with?” You asked, smiling. “Well, I was hoping you could perhaps teach me how to dance. A good friend of mine is hosting a party, a ball.” Alastor began, closing the door behind him as he moved closer to you.
You perk up. “Oh! Yes yes!” You cheered, clapping your gloves hands together. “I’d be happy to help you, my dearest!” You quickly, yet gently take his hand and pull him close. “It will take a few tries. But, learning of course takes time.” You said, tilting your head, your smile grew wide. “First! We need music.” You walked over to your small old-fashioned record player. You searched through many records of yours, before finding the perfect one. “Ah—!” You hummed, placing the record inside. It was a soft humming tone, and instruments playing in a soft tone.
“I can tell you’ve been waiting for me to ask, my lovely.” Alastor teased lightly, smirking. “Oh yes! Has a lady, you should never ask first.” You giggled at your small joke.
You stepped in front of him. Before slowly reaching out to Alastor’s hand. You placed his hand onto your shoulder, then his other hand on your waist. “You must keep your hands here,” You began, staring up at him. “And I’ll keep my hands here.” You placed your hand on his shoulder, then your other hand on his upper arm. “We’ll learn other dancing forms later on.” You smile. Alastor, allowed you to do what you needed to do. His eyes followed your every move, like a cat watching a mouse.
“One step like this. Move backward, follow the flow of the music.” You said, looking down at their feet, Alastor followed your instructions. He stumbled a bit, smiling sheepishly. “It's alright, you’re learning dear. You giggled. Moving your left foot in between his legs, before slowly turning. “Once the beat starts to slowly drop, start to turn slowly.” You said, glancing up at him. Alastor’s eyebrows furrow, before slowly turning, his grip on you tighten. “Better..”
“Then we do it again. Expect, we add a few more steps. Once again, follow the beat of the instruments.” You said, before moving your feet slowly. “One step, two steps.” You move your own feet backward, then forward. “I'm confused—dear. I thought I moved back?” Alastor stops, tilting his head to the side. His ears twitched. You smile. “Ah! We both move in sync. You move backward first, then we turn, then I move backward.”
“Ah.” Alastor hummed, his eye twitched. “Don't give up now-! We just got started.”
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“Do you understand now, love?” You asked, smiling sheepishly. You were leaning over a tired Alastor, who was sitting in a chair. His head spinning. “You’re such a drama queen. I told you, learning something takes time!” “Dear, I stepped on your feet how many times?!” “Oh Alastor…”
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A/N: tehehe i put the titled in the fic😉
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moonstruckme · 8 months
Note
not sure if you’re taking requests buttttt poly!marauders but they’re kinda overprotective bfs and she sneaks out to go to a party with marlene or her girlfriends but they find out and show up at the party 💞
Hi don't worry, I am! I think it should show on the requests page linked in my pinned post, but please let me know if it doesn't, I'm still figuring tumblr out and often mess up! I hope this is alright honey, I tried to go for the angst but honestly the more I write the more suspicious I become of my inability to write our boys being anything other than soft with reader! I'll try to work on it but in the meantime I hope you enjoy this <33
cw: mention of concussion symptoms, including nausea, nothing intense or even very descriptive though
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 906 words
You’re aware that the internet had said you were supposed to avoid bright lights, loud sounds, and movement when Remus had looked it up after an unfortunate fall that morning. Just like you’re aware that when your boyfriends left you at your apartment a few hours ago, they’d been trusting you to follow those instructions. But you’re also aware that the internet had led you all to believe your concussion was mild, and that Marlene only has one birthday a year. Damned if you were going to miss it. 
So yeah, you feel a bit queasy as your eyes struggle to track the movement and voices around you, but that’s nothing compared to the contentment of being with your friends. Lily has assigned herself the role of your caretaker, checking that you’re alright every few minutes and shushing anyone who raises their voice too loud around you, and Marlene has attached herself to your side, telling you how much she appreciates you in between beer-scented hiccups. 
“And you’re so nice to come tonight,” she’s saying now, brushing her fingers clumsily but sweetly through your hair. “I can’t tell you how much—uh oh.” 
You have a premonition of ill fate even before the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you follow Marelene’s unfocused gaze to the curly-haired boy coming towards you.
“Happy birthday, Marls,” he says, his smile only appearing slightly strained, before he turns to you. “Hey, sweetheart. Let’s go home, yeah?”
“Jamie,” you say quietly, and Lily and Marlene leave the couch to give you as much privacy as a party allows. “What are you doing here?”
“Everyone here’s been posting, and you’re in the background of half the pictures.” His smile slips as he crouches in front of you, disappointment in his eyes. “You know you’re supposed to be resting,” he says softly. “C’mon, let’s go.” 
You’re glad that he’s here instead of Remus or Sirius, who surely wouldn’t be as careful about not embarrassing you. James is less stern than the others, and though you feel a bit guilty for doing so, you press that to your advantage. 
“I haven’t drank anything but water,” you say. “That’s gotta count for something, right? And look.” You brush your hair behind your ear, showing him the earplugs you’d put in before arriving. “I’m being careful, see? I’m alright, Jamie, and it’s Marlene’s birthday. Let’s just stay, both of us, okay?”
James looks nearly apologetic. “Remus and Sirius are waiting in the car.” 
You groan, but allow James to pull you to your feet, waving goodbye to your friends with a pout. He supports more of your weight than you really need him to as he walks you outside, where Remus sits in the drivers’ seat of the idling car. Dread settles, along with dull resignation, in your stomach. 
Sirius is in the backseat and you hope James will get in first, but he lifts you in before him, placing you between two of your three upset boyfriends. You can’t look at any of them, allowing James to buckle your seatbelt for you as an oppressive silence, worse than the bass that had brutalized your head inside Marlene’s, stretches out between you. 
True to form, Sirius is the first to breach it. 
“What the hell were you thinking?”
You sigh. “I’m sorry.” 
“You have a concussion! All you had to do was stay home and rest. That website said that lights and loud music—say, the sort of things you’d find at a party—would only make things worse.” 
Normally, you’d argue with him. No matter how hopeless it seems, no matter how obvious it is that Sirius is going to win, you can always meet him head-on and at least make your point. But tonight, with your head throbbing and something about your very being feeling fundamentally wrong, you can’t muster up the energy. 
“I know,” you say. 
Sirius goes silent at the acquiescence in your voice, and he looks at Remus in the rear-view mirror, unsure of how to proceed. James puts a hand on your knee, a tiny gesture of comfort even though he’s upset with you too. The motivation that had driven you to Marlene’s and through the party is wearing off, and you feel suddenly, embarrassingly teary. 
“Do you feel sick?” Remus speaks for the first time, and though his voice is calm, the absence of his usual terms of endearment leave no doubt that you’re still in trouble. 
You clear your throat of the tears that are trying to clog it. “A little.” 
“We’re bringing you to our place to rest.” It’s not a question. “We can go get some things from your place tomorrow, but tonight you can just wear our stuff. Think you can eat something before bed?” 
It’s worse that he’s being kind to you. You’d been prepared for a lecture, but being taken care of is worse. It brings the vulnerability you’ve felt since the frightening pain and dizziness of that morning to the surface, and you keep your face turned towards your lap as your eyes become wet. “Yeah, I think so,” you say, and your voice cracks slightly when you add, “I’m sorry.” 
Sirius makes a sympathetic, pained sound from beside you, and James abandons all pretense of anger, tucking your head under his chin. 
“We’ll talk about it later,” Remus says, a bit more gently. “For now, just try to relax.” 
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okaylikesmomo · 9 months
Text
KAMPFyre: Part 1 - Vocals
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Was this girl serious? Could someone actually be this naive?
“So does it work?”
“Uh, I’ve heard it’s very effective,” you answered cautiously, still not entirely sure if she believed the theory. “It’s totally up to you if you want to do it, though.”
“I do!” she replied without hesitation. “Please, if it’s good for my voice then please do it.”
“Alright, follow me,” you instructed while walking down the hallways of the stadium into a small office. “Take a seat.”
She sat down with her hands in her lap, looking up at you expectantly. She was rather cute with her hair all tied up and her baggy, casual clothes. Since you already made it this far, you decided to try pushing it just a little bit more.
“It could get a bit messy,” you explained while leaning on the desk in front of her. “If you want to keep your clothes clean, I don’t mind if you strip.”
“Oh,” she hesitated. “Do people usually do that?”
“It’s pretty normal, but it’s totally up to you.”
“Will anyone else be coming in here?” she asked, looking around the room nervously. “And there aren’t any cameras right? I could get in a lot of trouble.”
“Whatever makes you more comfortable, remember I’m just here to help you out,” you added casually, hoping she wouldn’t get suspicious. “To answer your question though, no one else will be joining us, and there are no cameras.”
She thought about it for a second before shrugging and taking her sweater off. Just as she said, she was wearing nothing but a peach colored bra underneath her top. Then she stood up to take off her sweatpants, revealing matching underwear. After folding her clothes neatly on the side of the desk, she took a seat in front of you again.
“Have you ever seen one before?” you asked, standing up straight in front of her and gesturing to your crotch.
“Only in a science book, never in person,” she answered, staring between your legs. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what to do.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” you reassured her. “If at any point you want to stop, for any reason whatsoever, just let me know.”
She nodded obediently, still fixated on your crotch.
“I’m going to take my pants off, alright?” you said cautiously, not wanting to scare her. Slowly, you lowered your pants to your ankles, followed by your underwear. With your cock out in front of her, you stepped out of your clothes and kicked them to the side. “Ready?”
“What do I do now?” she asked, looking up at you.
“Put it in your mouth.”
“Some of these girls are fucking gorgeous.”
“Seriously, did you guys see that red haired girl,” you asked, taking a sip of your cocktail. “Some group called Momoland or something?”
“Oh yeah! She’s the only one I even remember from that set,” the first man commented. “I bet she gives great head, too.”
“What gave you that idea,” the second man laughed. “Aren’t these girls banned from seeing guys?”
“Really?” the first man gasped. “What a waste, I heard it makes you a better singer though.”
“What are you talking about,” you laughed, putting down your empty glass. “I gotta get going, but that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“No really! I swear it helps with singing,” the first man argued. “One load down the throat and these girls would sound so much better.”
The second man smacked him lightly on the head while the three of you laughed together.
“Alright it was nice meeting you guys,” you chuckled. “Maybe I’ll catch you guys again after the show, we’ll go grab some more drinks.”
“Cheers buddy.”
Still smiling to yourself, you left the two guys behind and took a couple of steps into the hallway when you heard a voice behind you.
“Excuse me.”
You turned around to see a cute girl standing in the hallway, staring at you.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be back here, this area is for staff only.”
“I’m actually one of the performers,” she said shyly.
“Oh, sorry,” you apologized, noticing her artist badge around her neck. “What can I help you with?”
“I don’t mean to intrude, but I overheard your conversation as I was heading back to our room.”
“Uh, sorry, I hope you aren’t offended,” you replied quickly, worried that she might report you.
“No, not at all, I was just wondering if it was true,” she said while walking up to you.
“Which part exactly?”
“The thing about the voice, your friend said something about one load making you sing better?”
“One load?” you coughed, unable to believe what she just said.
“I don’t really know what it means,” she said casually. “What is a load?”
“Is this some sort of prank?” you asked while looking around. “Am I being tested?”
“No, this isn’t a prank,” she said earnestly while holding up her pass. “Here, look, my name is Winter. I’m part of a group called Aespa, we’re performing tonight.”
If this was fake, it was pretty elaborate, you thought to yourself while observing the badge.
“I’m super nervous for today, if there is some sort of trick that will help my voice, I’d love to try it,” she continued. “I’ve always been into these kinds of superstitious things, it’s a bit embarrassing.”
“Well, if you’re being serious,” you replied, handing her pass back. “He was basically saying if a guy… umm… deposits inside your throat, it will make you sing better.”
“Deposits?” she repeated, tilting her head.
“Like, you know, a load. His sperm.”
“Oh,” she gasped. “That’s called a load?”
“I’m sorry, I feel like I’m not doing a very good job,” Winter apologized while slipping your cock out of her mouth. “Does it usually take this long?”
“Oh no! You’re doing just fine,” you replied, giving her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “It’s only your first time, don’t feel bad about it.”
“I don’t mind continuing, but if there’s a better way to do this we could try that.”
“There is one thing we could try,” you suggested as an audacious idea invaded your mind. “Some girls will have sex with the guy for a bit, just to get him ready, and then quickly put it back in their mouth.”
“Would you be willing to do that for me?” she asked innocently, looking up at you.
“Of course, I’d love to help you out,” you answered, trying to hide your excitement. Was she really about to let you fuck her? “Only if you want to do it.”
“Oh I do I do!” she replied happily. “I don’t really know how, though, I’ve only read about it.”
“Here, come sit,” you took her hand, guiding her to a little couch on the side and laying her on her back. “Is it fine if I take off your underwear?”
Without responding, she reached down herself and slipped her panties off, exposing her shaven pussy - so cute and pristine.
“Is it going to hurt?” she asked nervously, her legs spread wide while she slowly rubbed herself. “I’ve touched myself before, but I’ve never put anything inside.”
“I’ll be as gentle as possible,” you said while crouching down between her legs, admiring her lips. “I’m going to get you a bit wet first, to make it easier, alright?”
She nodded at you before moving her hands up and placing them on her stomach.
“Just try to enjoy this, it should feel good,” you instructed as you moved your face between her legs.
That first lick of her inner thigh made her whole body jolt. This girl was sensitive. Slowly, you rubbed your tongue around her folds, licking up and little bits of her juices that had already started spreading. She tasted so clean, her pussy was made to be eaten. The biggest travesty was knowing that it wasn’t eaten daily.
As your tongue moved closer and closer to her entrance, her breathing accelerated. She was already getting wet - you couldn’t wait to taste her fully. Without further ado, your tongue made its way towards her pussy. That first lick up her slit immediately overwhelmed your taste buds, her delicious nectar filling your mouth. When your tongue made it to her clit, her wide-spread legs clamped down on your head.
“Sorry!” she gasped, quickly spreading her legs again.
“It’s fine,” you quickly reassured her before immediately pressing your mouth against her again.
Again, her legs began to close, but this time she controlled herself before squishing you - not that you would have minded. You began to explore, licking and tasting every bit of her pussy that your mouth could reach. The goal was just to get her wet, but you were addicted.
“That feels really good,” Winter moaned, finally allowing herself to be vocal.
Her lower body began to squirm. You gave her pussy a couple final licks before sitting up, admiring the mess of fluids between her legs - She was ready.
“This should also feel really good,” you said, wiping your lips with the back of your hand as you slid a cushion underneath her butt. “I’m going in now, alright?”
“Okay,” she whispered, looking up at you in anticipation as you lined your stiff cock up with her entrance.
The excitement was driving you insane, a tiny bit of precum had already formed on your tip. You couldn’t believe this was actually going to happen. You slowly pressed your cock against her folds, having her pussy spread apart for you.
“Holy fuck that’s tight,” you moaned, pausing for a moment. “Let me know if it’s too much.”
“I’m- fine-” she stuttered, her eyes shut tight.
Another inch. Winter inhaled sharply as your third little push went forward. Your cock was halfway inside her now, begging to go deeper. You pushed again, going until your cock was almost entirely inside her, when she let out a little squeak through her closed mouth.
She was frozen, completely still, until you carefully pulled your hips back. She released that breath slowly, her entire body relaxing before your eyes. You pressed forward again, not going as deep, holding yourself inside her to get her adjusted.
So unbelievably tight, but luckily she was also soaked. Using her breaths as guidance, you began to slowly thrust into her. Your cock only ever made it halfway, but you wanted to ease her into it. She did feel amazing, her inner walls were squeezing your cock in all the right ways, gently contracting each time you thrusted.
“Is it working?” she asked through gritted teeth, still keeping her eyes shut tight.
“Yeah, you’re doing great,” you moaned back, grabbing her waist for support.
After going at it for a bit, you decided to push deeper. Her body was quickly adjusting, and soon you were going three quarters of the way into her pussy with each thrust, making her whole body jiggle each time.
She began to heat up: a lot. The contractions of her pussy began to come quicker and quicker, squeezing your shaft, fighting your movements. She was getting tighter the more you fucked her, and at this point she was probably tighter than when you started - but she was also much wetter.
As you continued to plow her tightness, you slid one hand over towards her clit and began rubbing. This finally got her to moan freely. That shy wall she was hiding behind shattered, and she began to cry out in pleasure. Your cock began to twitch at the sound of her voice, nearing your own orgasm.
It had probably only been a couple of minutes at most since you started fucking her pussy, but you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. She was so tight. Her tiny body began to shake, trembling as you relentlessly fucked her.
A slur of words slipped out of her mouth, she was gasping, trying to say something while being denied by the pleasure of her body. Then, her pussy clamped down on your cock, squeezing it harder than ever before.
“Ahhhhhhhh,” she moaned, drawn out and without care for controlling the volume. Her orgasm took over, her whole body began to move up and down.
At this point, you completely forgot what your goal was, and the sight of Winter’s arched back made you burst. She was still cumming as you began to paint her insides white. You grunted, gasped, moaned, nothing was in your control anymore as her pussy convulsed on your shaft.
It went on for a bit, before you finally regained your senses. At some point during your orgasm, you had fallen forward onto her body. While laying on top of her, you felt your cock pulse every few seconds, unloading the final bits of your climax inside her pussy.
“I came… inside…” you gasped, lifting yourself up and looking down at her.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked tenderly, still in her blissful state. “Am I supposed to swallow it still?”
“No, you didn’t-” you began before pausing as the realization of what she just said hit you. “That might be a bit difficult.”
“Oh, are you able to try again?”
“You… want to go again?”
“Sure, why not,” she answered, sitting up slightly. “It felt really good, and it looks like this way worked a lot better.”
“Uh, sure, I don’t see why not,” you responded while getting off her. As soon as you pulled out, a glob of white goo spilled out of her.
“Is that what I’m supposed to swallow?” she asked, observing the bit of your cum that was on your tip. “Do you mind if I taste it?”
This girl had to be fucking with you, there was no way she was real. Either way, you walked around the couch and held your cock right in front of her mouth.
“If you want, yeah.”
She leaned forward and stuck her tongue out, collecting your cum in her mouth. She took one big gulp before shuddering slightly.
“It’s… weird.”
“We don’t have to keep doing this,” you said, starting to feel slightly guilty.
“No, please, your friend said it’ll help with my vocals, right?” she asked, her eyes hopeful.
“He did.”
“Then please, I’m sorry for messing the last one up, please try again,” she begged.
“Alright, just give me like thirty seconds,” you said, grabbing your cock and stroking it back to hardness.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Winter asked while sitting up straight on the couch, watching you stroke yourself.
“Uh yeah, here,” you let go of your cock and stuck it forward for her to stroke.
While you expected her to grab your cock, she shocked you when she put it in her mouth and started blowing you again.
“Oh fuck, that works,” you moaned as her soft lips enveloped your cock.
Surely this had to be a dream. If it was real, then you figured you’d have to look more into this Aespa group. It didn’t take long for you to get ready for round two.
“You’re already getting better at that,” you encouraged her while pulling your cock out of her mouth. “Here, this time come over here.”
Following your instructions, she stood up from the couch and walked over to the desk. You pressed down on her back, bending her over it. With her ass sticking up, it took a lot of strength to stop yourself from shoving your face into it.
“This time, before I cum, I need you to quickly turn around and get on your knees,” you instructed her.
“How will I know when that is?” she asked while looking back over her shoulder.
“I’ll pull out,” you answered. “I’ll also give you a little pat on the butt, alright?”
She nodded once before facing forward again, bracing herself. You stepped up behind her, rubbing your tip along her slit - squishy wet noises filling the room. Her body was much better prepared this time, and you slipped in with ease. It wasn’t until you went about halfway inside her that her pussy convulsed, that tightness returning immediately.
This time, you pushed all the way in until your hips were pressed right against her ass. An emphatic moan escaped her lips as you pushed as deep as you could. While you pulled back, her pussy lips were gripping your cock, fighting to keep you inside her. At the same time, when you pushed back in, her tightness was fighting to keep you out.
Her body felt unreal, this girl must have been created in a lab or something. You leaned forward, placing your hands on her shoulders, before finally getting into a rhythm. This time, you were fucking her much harder. Her cute little ass rippled each time your hips slammed into her, and the once shy girl was now squealing each time your cock went in.
As much as you wanted to savor the moment, your body didn’t care. Your hips were relentless, plowing her tight pussy while her cute little butt went back and forth. One of your hands moved off her shoulder and pressed hard into her lower back, making her arch herself. She looked so fucking sexy from this angle.
Winter deserved some praise. With how hard you were fucking her, and her lack of experience, she took it quite well. You thought about slowing down, giving her a second to catch her breath, but her constant moans of pleasure kept you going.
Slap slap slap, your hips rammed her ass. Each thrust went as deep as possible, but you needed to go deeper. With your cock balls deep inside her, you grabbed her leg and lifted it onto the desk. She almost fell over, balancing on one foot, but you quickly grabbed her hips to steady her.
With your fingers pressing into her hips, you resumed the thrusting - this new position scratching that itch inside you to go deeper. Her moans, her tightness, her cute butt, everything happening in your world right now was pushing you to the edge. You never could have predicted your second orgasm to come so quickly, but here it was.
Not wanting to mess it up again, you slammed into her one final time with all of your power, making her entire body shake as she screamed out. Then you quickly pulled out, all the way, letting go of her body entirely. You lifted your hand up high, and then you brought it down hard onto her ass, the sound of the slap echoing in the small room.
Without missing a beat, the cute girl quickly turned around and got into her knees. She looked right into your eyes, unable to contain her excitement as you stroked your cock in front of her face, dripping her own juices onto her chin. As soon as she opened her mouth, you shoved your cock down her throat.
After her initial reflex, she quickly calmed down and let you use her mouth freely. She sat there while your cock went in and out, nearing that divine orgasm. You grabbed her head with both hands and started to properly fuck her mouth, the same way you fucked her from behind just a second ago.
Finally, your cock unloaded, giving her exactly what she was begging for earlier. She looked so pretty with her mouth spread open around your shaft. You pressed forward, as deep as her throat would allow, holding her face to your crotch as you pumped her full of cum.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned quietly as she took your entire load. You tilted your head back and closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of her mouth as her tongue rubbed against your tip. “Almost done.”
As soon as you let go of her head, she pulled back and started coughing. You crouched down next to her, rubbing her back gently.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she coughed, her saliva dripping out of her mouth and onto her thighs. “I think I swallowed most of it.”
“You did a great job,” you said awkwardly, the realization of what you just did hitting you. “Here, use this,” you added while handing her some tissues from the desk.
She wiped her mouth a few times before looking up at you and smiling.
“Thank you, I think I can feel it working already,” she said softly.
There was no way this was real. You refused to believe it.
“Yeah, I’m glad I could help.”
---
A/N:
I have no idea how this happened. Randomly got kinda horny for Winter, quickly wrote up something I thought about back when they did some music festival. I don't actually think Winter is dumb, this is just silly fiction, don't be offended!
Wrote this up in one night, forgive me for any sort of mistakes. Barely proofread this one to be honest. Hopefully someone out there enjoys it, I'll probably at some point write a Karina bit following this one.
Regarding other works, Dating Seraphs Chapter 5 is making a lot of progress, this fic was just a short distraction, so expect that soon!
1K notes · View notes
mochinek0 · 3 months
Text
Time to Go
Marinette had known since she was born that she was the only daughter of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Ghul. She was also Damian's little sister, by three years.
When the strike on Ra's Al Ghul was taken, Talia quickly hid her away. Marinette knew her family's lives were on the line. She knew Damian would be on the front lines and prayed for his safe return. Although she knew she wasn't her grandfather's favorite, she still mourned his death. Damian seemed to take it especially hard.
Talia had told Marinette and Damian that they would be seperated for the time being. She needed Damian to go with his father to continue his training, while she picked up the pieces of the League.
"What about me, Mother?" Mari questioned.
"You will be on a mission, all of your own." Talia explained, "You're mission is to go undercover. You will act as a daughter of other people. This will keep you safe. Not many know of your existence, but I need to make sure all that wish to harm us, are gone."
"I do not approve of this." Damian snarled.
"I understand." Talia whispered, "I have folders for each of you with detailed instructions. Until you are in your new lodgings, you are not to open them."
Marinette nodded sadly and cried herself to sleep in her big brother's arms. She knew it would be a while before she saw him again. Talia gave them their moment. It hurt her dearly to tear her children apart, but Slade had to pay for his crimes. The League had to be rebuilt and become stronger than ever to give them both their inheritance. With Ra's gone, she would train Marinette to become as deadly as her, when she came of age.
Marinette smiled at the envelope in her hand.
'Another letter from mother. I wonder what my orders are this time.'
Marinette,
The time has come for your father to pick you up. He and Damian will pick you up in three days time. Prepare for his arrival.
Marinette smiled, happily. Lila had been a pain in the ass, as of late. Sabine and Tom took everything her so-called friends said at face value. They would laugh at the implications over dinner. Marinette would tell them all of the lies and how brainless the class truly was. They both knew that if Marinette was really bullying Lila, she could have done far worse. Tom and Sabine had disagreed with Adrien's decleration, but told Mairnette to keep the piece while they reached out to Talia. Only her mother's orders were absolute. If her mother said she could kill her, they wouldn't stand in her way.
"Maman. Papa." Marinette called out.
"So, what did the letter say this time?" Sabine asked.
"Father and Brother will be here in three days time to retrieve me." she answered.
"Well, let's start pulling you out of that horrible school and get ou all packed up." Tom laughed, "I'm sure they will be happy to see you."
'Damian, perhaps. Father; I don't know if he even knows of my existence. Surprise, Father.'
Bruce sighed, "What do you mean you have a sister?"
"It's just as I stated." Damian declared, "Mother has insisted it is safe to retrieve her."
"You've been talking to Talia?" Dick questioned.
"No." the young Wayne heir answered, "She gave us both instructions before we left."
Damian held up the letter.
"There are certain dates for me to open these letters." he explained, "Most of them coincide with our birthdays. Today is Marinette's; she turns fifteen."
"So where is she?" Jason asked.
"Paris, France." Damian stated, "She has been under watchful eyes and was assigned to live as a normal child. No assassin work. Grandfather wasn't too happy that he didn't have two grandsons. Mother taught her self-defense, but she helped out around, mostly as a servant. I was to ignore her if I saw her unless we were alone."
Bruce rubbed his head.
"I have already prepared another room, Sir." Alfred smiled.
"Please, don't let there be two of him." Tim pleaded as Bruce stood up and walked out of the cave to pack.
Marinette handed over her ledger of Lila Rossi to Bruce.
"The school needs to choose their staff more carefully." she spoke, "Tom and Sabine have tried stepping in with the Principal, but I bellieve the Board needs to know what is going on under their noses.
Bruce looked at it and quickly read through it.
"I agree." he snarled, "I'll be taking it with me to the board. I need to legally sign you out of that school, anyways."
Marinette turned to her brother and hugged him.
"I missed you." she whispered.
Damian said nothing, but held her close.
Tom and Sabine stood by as they watch the girl they help raise, reunite with her family. Marinette let go and realized they were holding something.
"We have a copy of all of the recipes we've made over the years." Sabine declared, "Both in the bakery and just for the house."
"Family eyes only." Tom smiled.
"Thank you." Marinette replied, taking it and holding it close to her chest.
"I will make sure it is handed over to our grandfather and he will keep it locked up and safe." Damian declared.
Tom and Sabine smiled.
"I need to take my stuff back to the school." Mari spoke up.
"Go." Damian replied, "Father should return soon. I will tell him where you are and we will meet you there. I will put your belongings in the car so we can leave immediately."
Marinette walked into class and handed her class books over to Ms. Bustier.
"Marinette, why-" Caline began to question.
"I resign as class president." Mari announced.
"What?" Caline whispered in shock.
"Marinette?" Adrien called out, "Are you okay?"
"Is this why you haven't been in school?" Alya asked.
Caline laughed awkwardly, "Marinette, I'm sure-"
"I will be leaving this school, as of today." she announced, leaving the class stunned.
"Oh, Marinette!" Lila called out, standing up, "Did I do something? I only wanted to be friends!"
"Yeah!" shouted Kim, "What the hell?"
"I'll be moving in with my birth father and older brother." Marinette stated, "Mother says it is time for me to go with them."
"Sabine kicked you out?" Adrien questioned, confused.
"Sabine and Tom are my guardians, not my parents." Mari declared, "My birth father listened to me. I have always had a keen eye for detail, as many of you know from asking me to design for them."
"Are you till going on about 'Lila stealing from you'?" Alya asked, "We know it was you who stole!"
Lila paled and sat back down in her seat.
'What?'
Marinette looked at Lila and smiled, "Why do you think Ms. Bustier doesn't want me to stop being class president? It's because I make detailed plans for all the school trips, fundraisers, plan the fire drills, and escape routes. I even know where everything in this school is, including the security cameras. I have kept a record of every lie you said sice you got here, where and when. My father turned the evidence over to the Board of Governers."
Lila's jaw dropped.
"If the cameras aren't working, then they'll just go after that gullible man. Pretty sure embezzlement won't keep him in position." Mari shrugged.
"Huh?" asked Nino.
"How many times do you think the mayor pays him to look the other way when Chloe's being a bitch?" Marinette declared.
"Excuse me!" Chloe shouted.
"Maybe Lila can lend you her hearing aids." Marinette retorted.
"This is why you're a bully." Alix glared at her.
Marinette simply smiled.
Bruce and Damian walked in. Chloe smoothed her clothes and fluffed her hair, quickly. She stood up and smiled.
"I'm-" She spoke.
"Your voice is like nails on a chalk board." Damian commanded, "Be silent."
Chloe closed her mouth and sat down in embarassment, leaving everyone speechless.
Marinette giggled, "You always did know how to make an entrance, Big Brother."
Chloe's jaw dropped.
'She's a Wayne!'
Marinette turned and smiled at Chloe, "Goodbye, Daddy's Little Princess." before turning back to her family, "Father, I am ready to return home."
"Very well." Bruce spoke.
All three of them left the class without another word. There was a lot they had to discuss. As far as Bruce knew, Marinette had no idea about him being Batman and Damian being Robin. She had grown up with some semblance of a normal life and he wanted to keep it that way.
The class looked at the door confused.
"Chloe?" whispered Sabrina.
"Shit!" Chloe screamed, slamming her fists onto the desk.
"Chloe, are you okay?" asked Kim.
"No!" she yelled back, "Do I look okay? So you know-You don't know who they are? Of course you Pea Brains, don't! That was Bruce and Damian Wayne. Which makes.....Baker Girl is one of the richest people in the world."
Lila sat in her seat, enraged.
'What?'
"What?" questioned Alya.
"They have more money than mine and Adrikins' family combined." she scoffed, "Her father could buy Daddy's hotel like it was nothing!"
"But-" whispered Mylene.
"Marinette is a Wayne." Chloe stated, "The Waynes own an international business and have their hands in everything. They are old money. Bruce Wayne practically owns a whole city and just doesn't wanna be mayor."
"What about her brother?" asked Alix.
"He's known for being violent and lashing out. He hates the press." she remarked, "One thing about him on social media and he hunts you down and sues you."
"That's illegal." Alya claimed.
"Sorry. Would you prefer to be thrown in jail or settle for a million dollars to delete what you have?" the heiress questioned, "The Wayne family is known for the high IQ and attention to detail, which means....we're all screwed."
The class learned that everything Marinette had said was true. Lila's lies were all exposed. She was expelled and taken to a juvenile detention center, ontop of being sued by various people. Principal Damocles had been fired, as he had zero authority to expell anyone. Their teacher, Caline Bustier, was fired for not doing her job. She never informed the nurse about Lila's illnesses or disabilities, so there was never any confirmation that any of those were true. She also never sent Lila any homework during her 'travels' and so she was far behind the class in her studies.
Chloe believed she was suffering the most. Adrien was no longer in school with her. The people that let her do what she wanted was removed from the school and she was being forced to sell clothes out of her closet because her mother was upset by how much she 'embarassed them' in front of the Waynes.
'Stupid Marinette! This is all her fault! If she had just acted rich, like me, everything would be the same as it always was.'
The class was in disarray. Not only had Ms. Bustier let Lila slide on so many things, she was behind on their lessons as well. They now had mandatory after school tutoring and study sessions. Adrien Agreste had been pulled out of the class due to his high marks. He was also at the level they all should have been at.
"Dude, how did you pass?" Nino asked, "We all listened to Miss Bustier! You're higher than anyone, including Max!"
"Well, I was homeschooled and Natalie was a tough teacher compared to Miss Bustier. Also, I wanted to be at the same grade level as Chloe. I sorta knew mostly everything, already." Adrien admitted, "I actually could have skipped a few grades if I wanted to."
Nino was surprised, "Would you be willing to tutor us?"
"I wish I could but the board made me take a test and Father demanded I answer every question I knew correctly." Adrien sighed, "I'll be going to high school and if I continue the way I am now, I'm set to graduate in two years."
They realized it would never be the same. Everyone else still had four or five years until they graduated. 
Bruce thought that another child would tip the balance of the manor, but he was wrong. It felt like all they had been missing, was her. She adjusted perfectly to the chaos. His sons insisted that Marinette learn self-defense, at the very least. She refused to walk in their footsteps and become Robin or any other sort of vigilante. It hadn't taken long for Marinette to be announced as Bruce Wayne's daughter and Damian's long lost biological sister. Marinette had taken Gotham by storm as Gotham's Angel and was designing under a new alias: Serpentine. She was taking the fashion world by storm.
Everyone loved having Marinette around, but Damian Al-Ghul Wayne knew better. Marinette was as deceiving as their mother. She looked innocent in everything she did, but her mind was a war zone. Their grandfather never appreciated her mind, but he had gotten some of his best stealth mission ideas after talking with her. He could see her slithering into every crack in their new home. She was flexible like Grayson, loved motorcycles like Todd, talked business with Father and Drake. She even won over Alfred, Brown and Cain with her cooking and baking skills.
Damian watched as Marinette smiled at her computer. The look at the screen, the smile; it was his mother's smile. He could see Gabriel stocks were plummeting after their reunion in Paris. Style Queen was barely hovering above water. For Marinette, it was never about becoming Robin. It was about ruling the world and she was going do it through fashion.
Damian would never tell anyone, but he was scared of his little sister and he would take it to his grave. The smile that would lead anyone to death: The Arabian Helen of Troy.
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d1xonss · 3 months
Note
Hi!! Could I request a one shot where reader and Daryl are like complete opposites?? But he realizes eventually he’s grown to love her or something like that?? Thank you!
Enchanting
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader
✧ Era : Season 5/6
✧ Pronouns : she/her
✧ Genre : Fluff
✧ Word Count : 3.6k
AN ~ Thank you so much for this request! I’ve been writing some pretty sad stuff lately so I’m glad to have something on the lighter side lol. I tried my best with this considering I haven't been writing much outside of the series I've been updating. But I'm always up for the practice. Hope you enjoy!
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He just couldn’t wrap his head around it. How someone so fragile, so delicate, so perfect, survived this long in a world as shitty as this. 
Alexandria as a whole felt like a dream within itself. Arriving with his family at the giant gates after living a life of hell on the road, it was something he would call a miracle. Though he hardly believed in such a thing, he thought this was as close as it was going to get. Houses lined up down the road, running water, electricity, it almost seemed too unreal to him to even want to stay in a place like this. 
It took him some time to get adjusted, some of his people having to drag him out of the house by his hair to actually give this place a chance. They wanted him to open up, socialize a bit more with some of the people in the community seeing as they were planning to stay in this dream-like place. 
Carol was the most persistent of them all. She poked and prodded at him for days to get out of the house and actually give this place a chance. He would argue and say that he had left the house since their arrival, but in her mind, going out for hours to hunt was hardly the socializing she had in mind. All she wanted was for Daryl to be able to thrive here as the rest of them were slowly doing, not wanting to see him completely shut himself out.
So, after a whole week of trying to coax him out of the secure home, he finally agreed to a party. 
Did he enjoy parties? No, absolutely not. He didn’t know what to do at those types of events, not knowing how to really talk with others freely as it wasn’t exactly his strong suit. He would most likely just awkwardly stand in the corner by himself until enough time passed for him to be able to leave. And at least then he could say he tried.
When the day finally came it was safe to say he was a little nervous. He hadn’t talked to really anyone outside of his close knit group in what felt like forever. He had no idea if he would even be good at the whole “small talk” thing as he never once was to begin with. But still, he promised he’d try.
So, after getting back from a hunt he went on earlier that day, he headed towards the lit up house as instructed. Though the closer he got, the more nervous he became. His palms began to sweat a little as he wiped them a few different times on his jeans, trying to swallow whatever anxiety was creeping back up to haunt him. It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, but it was. To him, it was.
He eventually forced himself to open up the front door with almost instant regret, seeing a few turning heads to notice his presence in the room. Though he tried to ignore it for the most part, only nodding to the familiar faces he saw in different areas of the mostly filled house. He already grew uncomfortable at the watchful eyes that managed to follow him, purposefully looking away as he kept his head down while he moved.
Alright, time to find a corner, he thought to himself as he subtly scoped the place out, preparing to be alone for most of the night.
“Daryl!”
Damnit.
He reluctantly turned his head to see Carol approaching him rather quickly with a wide smile on her face as she quickly brought him into a hug, “Oh, I’m so happy you made it.” 
“Mhm,” he hummed with a nod as he patted her back awkwardly before she finally pulled away, “Said I’d try…so m’ tryin.”
“And I’m very proud of you.” she said sincerely as she placed a hand on his cheek for a moment, before pulling back with an even larger smile, “You want something to drink?” 
He dipped his head in a nod of appreciation as she tapped his shoulder, “I’ll be right back.” she promised, before turning around to maneuver through the sea of people.
Daryl patted the sides of his legs nervously as he waited for her return, scanning over different things in the house that caught his attention. One was the slightly flickering light above his head, another was the music playing somewhat softly in the background of people’s loud conversations. And the third was a laugh. A quite delightful laugh that had his attention from the second it hit his ears.
Daryl’s head whipped in the direction of the sudden delicate noise, his eyes catching sight of a woman he had never seen around the community before. Over the past week he had managed to see a few other residents of Alexandria when he traveled outside, sending them a polite nod when he passed through. But he had never seen you before.
He watched intently as you interacted with someone else from right next to you, whispering something close to your ear as you let out another light and enchanting laugh. His eyes moved over the features of your face, seeing your eyes crinkling at the corners and dimples forming on your cheeks from how wide you smiled. His lips parted a little at the sight, his head even tilting a bit to the side as he continued to study your movements.
You occasionally tucked a piece of hair behind your ear everytime it got in the way of your eyes, your hand effortlessly falling back down to grasp the cup of the drink you held in your hands. Your nose occasionally scrunched up a bit as you spoke, clearly about something that brought you joy and it intrigued Daryl more than he was willing to admit. A part of him wanted to get closer to hear the delightful story you were surely telling. He could in fact almost make out the sound of your voice from where he stood-
“Here’s your drink.” Carol’s voice quickly cut into his thoughts.
He practically jumped out of his skin at her arrival, glancing down to see the beer bottle in her hands before swiping it in his own grasp with a quiet thanks. Her brows furrowed in slight confusion as now all Daryl could seem to focus on was the ground, but curiosity got the better of her as to why he was so jumpy. Her eyes glanced behind her shoulder and did a scan of the surroundings…before a smirk was brought to her face.
“She’s pretty.” she commented casually.
Daryl’s eyes flew up to meet her smug expression with a scoff, “Dunno what yer talkin bout.” he brushed off as he raised the bottle to meet his lips.
She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “I’m not dense, Daryl, and neither are you…” she trailed off before glancing back once more to catch you laughing yet again, “I think you should go talk to her.”
A scoff was the only response he could come up with, a reddened pigment covering his cheeks at the suggestion. You were already having a good time, why the hell would you want to talk to someone like him instead.
“I’m serious.” Carol pushed, “I think it’s the right kind of socializing you need.” she finished with a wink.
He gave her a pointed look as he took another swig of the liquid, his eyes panning back over towards you as the person whom you were once talking with, suddenly walked away. So now you stood alone, swaying back and forth a little to the music in content as you occasionally took a sip from your own drink as well.
“Well, would you look at that…a spot seemed to open up.” Carol teased as she nudged his side a little to which he just brushed her away with an annoyed grunt.
Though he couldn’t argue as he continued to casually glance at you still standing alone, though it looked like you didn’t mind too much. You looked almost too peaceful in a cramped party filled to the brim with people. Maybe he should take a chance. Just this once in his life maybe the leap of faith would do him some good, giving him an opportunity to talk to you.
After having an eternal inner debate with himself and a loud sigh left his lips, he finally pushed himself to move forward. He tried to ignore Carol’s wide smile in encouragement as he passed by her completely, but it truly was hard to ignore. He huffed as he moved further, awkwardly squeezing by a few people lingering in the way before he could reach you.
Although it happened all too fast, now standing in front of you with somewhat of a blank expression as you now looked him in the eye. Daryl swallowed thickly as he stood frozen upon seeing your gaze match his, your eyes were beautiful as they seemed to hold something much more than he was expecting. Everything about you seemed to make time stop for him.
“Hi.” you greeted politely after a few seconds of silence, sending a smile his way that almost caused him to melt.
He cleared his throat, “Hey.” he responded dryly, now almost panicking as he didn’t think this through as much as he should’ve. He was suddenly rendered speechless, not knowing what to say next as you looked at him almost expectantly.
Though your eyes narrowed the smallest bit, the smile still remaining on your face, “I recognize you, you’re new.” you stated with a raised finger, “Apart of Rick’s group, right? Daryl?”
“Uh huh.” he mumbled as he continued to stare, almost in disbelief that you had recalled seeing him before, enough to recognize him and even know his name. He’d almost wished you would repeat his name again so he could hear you say it just once more.
Your smile widened even more if that were possible as you suddenly held out your hand for him to take, “I’m (Y/N).”
And just like that, after hearing your name for the very first time, he could never seem to get it out of his head. He didn't necessarily know it then, but you would soon become a person that Daryl cared very much for. Someone he would give up his life for. Someone he would grow to love.
He was infatuated with you, slowly finding the time to leave the house more and more so he could have a chance at catching you outside as well. Normally he would never be so bold as to plan something like this just to get a chance to talk to you, but he couldn’t help it. There was just something so special about you that he couldn’t ignore.
Months in the community went by just like that, getting countless chances and opportunities to spend more time with you on multiple occasions. You were honestly flattered that the stoic man wanted to seek you out whenever he got the chance, offering to help fix something in your house or inviting you out on one of his hunts, you were always excited upon his arrival.
In exchange you would always have something to give him in return for his countless acts of kindness. Whether it was giving him something you had baked or his worn jeans you offered to patch up and sew, you wanted to give him something. He always seemed to deny your persistence, wanting nothing in return as he thought you were the best gift he could ever receive. But still you pushed, batting your eyelashes at him until he finally agreed to take whatever you presented, leaving you smiling at his bashful state.
You knew of his growing feelings towards you, of course you did. You picked up on it after he stopped by your house about three different times to make sure the bathroom sink he had fixed was still working properly. Daryl however was still painfully oblivious as he failed to realize that after all this time, you too found yourself growing feelings for him.
“I think you should just bite the bullet and ask her.” Carol advised as she mauvered around the kitchen, cooking dinner for the two of them.
Daryl’s constant resort was to just scoff at her words as he held his head in one of his hands at the kitchen island, “Alright.” he mumbled sarcastically.
She whipped around with slightly widened eyes, “I’m being serious!” she said as she stirred something heated on the stove, “And you better do it fast before she gets swept up by someone else.”
His eyes quickly snapped up towards her at the possibility, “Ya think that’ll happen?” he asked, not even trying to hide his worry.
He cared for you deeply, unlike anything he had ever felt before, the last thing he wanted to see was you with someone else. But at the same time he was scared. Scared to ask you out for some kind of date if you didn’t see him the same way he saw you. He didn’t want to ruin what he already had with you, he didn’t want to scare you away. But the suggestion of you being with someone besides him now made him worry further.
“I think that it could happen.” Carol corrected, “She’s very kind and pretty, it’s hard for me to believe she hasn’t found someone yet.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing…” Daryl said as he trailed off, “Better then endin up with some asshole like me.”
The woman sighed heavily as she dropped the wooden spoon in her hands and turned around fully to face him, “Daryl, that girl absolutely adores you. You might not be able to see it, but I do. I think you should just…take a chance. Like you did with that party.” she spoke knowingly.
He sent her a glare through his lids, earning a small laugh from her as she turned back around. His mind seemed to wander for a long moment as Carol’s back was facing him now, thinking if now was really the time to make some type of move. He wanted nothing more than to just confess what he’s been feeling for so long, wanting to sweep you off your feet and never let you go. But it wasn’t that easy.
He had thought about this situation before in the past, a lot more than he was willing to admit, but everytime he seemed to always talk himself out of it. He didn’t know how you would react, if you would be offended or flattered. If you would turn him down easy for leave him brokenhearted. There were too many possibilities for him to ignore, too many scenarios to think through.
But in the end you were the kindest person he had ever met and he felt safe with you, safer than he had ever felt before. Perhaps that was the only reason he needed to finally take a chance.
Before he could even process what he was doing, he suddenly stood up from his seat and headed straight towards the front door, trying not to talk himself out of the sudden decision he just made. He was fast and light on his feet as he walked down the porch steps, nearly falling on his ass as he missed the last one in a hurry. But he hardly let it bother him, looking like a man on a mission to others he was passing by on the sidewalk.
The walk to your house felt fast and slow all at once, his heartbeat rapidly pounding in his chest with each step closer he got. He felt his hands begin to sweat a bit as he trudged up the steps to your pretty yellow house, noticing the arrangements of flowers you had on either side of the porch that matched your personality perfectly. He was inches away from the front door now as he stood back and hesitated to knock on the wooden frame to your home. His eyes glanced down for a moment to your welcome mat below his feet, scraping off his dirty boots as he would never wish to track mud into your house.
With his boots clean(ish) and a huff passing from his lips, he finally raised his fist up towards the door to give it a firm and heavy knock, waiting for you to answer. The seconds seemed to go impossibly slow as he waited, wondering to himself if you were even home. You loved to head to the gardens this time of day, picking your share of the fruits and vegetables being grown. Perhaps he had missed you completely, contemplating if he should just turn around and head back seeing as the seconds turned into minutes.
But then he heard it. The faintness of your voice calling through the house that you were coming, followed by the pitter patter of your light and delicate footsteps. He swallowed thickly before the door was suddenly swung open, revealing your smiling face that seemed to light up even more at just the sight of him.
“Hey!” you greeted cheerfully as you bounded forward to close the distance between you two, bringing him in for a tight embrace.
He grunted at the sudden impact, but smiled a bit to himself as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you softly. He feared that he would break you if he squeezed a little too tight.
You pulled back with a smile just as wide as your eyes lingered a bit over his face, “What’s up? You need something?” you asked politely.
He couldn’t help but think that he needed you and only you, but it felt a little wrong to be that blunt right away so he settled with a shake of his head, “Nah, just…just wanted ta see ya.” he spoke honestly.
Your eyes twinkled at the sweetness of him as you laughed lightly, “I’ve been wanting to see you too.” you admitted, “It feels like it’s been too long since we’ve hung out.”
“Yeah,” he grunted as he cleared his throat a little, “Shit’s gettin busier round here.”
You nodded in agreement, a little sympathy on your features as you knew how much he did around here for the community, “But- uh…” he quickly corrected, “I’ll always make time for ya…no matter how busy it gets.” he admitted nervously.
Your heart warmed as you smiled at him sweetly, “You sure?” you asked a bit playfully, “You sure you’re not too busy?” you poked as you ventured out to take his hand softly in yours.
He smiled down at you as you intertwined your fingers with his, as you normally would do, “Never.” he promised.
His eyes then took the time to take in your appearance as he normally would do. Your hair was pulled back a bit as it was tied up with a light pink ribbon, framing your face angelically as a few strands fell from the front and landed just above your cheekbones. He then noticed the sundress that fit your figure beautifully, finding himself loving the many skirts and flowy dresses you constantly wore. And then the jewelry that hung around your neck, a tiny pink diamond that was shaped into a heart as it sat in the middle of your chest.
It was actually a gift he had given you weeks ago, something he had found on a run that just reminded him of you. It was so soft and delicate, and the heart seemed fitting to your style. 
“Did you…want to come in for a bit?” you asked as you noticed him grow a little quieter than usual.
He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of your sweet voice, “Oh- uh- nah…I just came over here ta…ask ya somethin.”
“So ask.” you prodded gently with a soft squeeze to his hand that made his knees feel like jelly.
You knew that Daryl often had a hard time with things like this, seeing it made him uncomfortable to say or ask something out of his comfort zone. But you were always so patient with him it blew his mind, always willing to wait for him to just come out and say it.
“Alright, so uh…” he cleared his throat before swallowing thickly, “I was just um…just wonderin…if ya wanted to maybe…go on a ride with me sometime…?”
Your eyes brightened a little as you went to open your mouth to answer, but he quickly cut you off, “Nah, I mean- n-not like just a ride, but like…out together sometime…just the two of us...kinda like-”
His rambling went on for a few more seconds before you decided to cut him off instead. He suddenly clamped his mouth shut in a split second when he felt the softness of your lips brushing across his cheek, leaving a light peck before you pulled away with a smile.
“I’d love to.” you said.
The man was stunned to silence, feeling his face get hot and the burning of his cheek becoming more intense as he tired to process your actions. You couldn’t help but laugh a little to yourself as you gave his hand another comforting squeeze while gazing up at him through your long lashes.
“I’m free tomorrow at noon…if that works for you?”
He stood there in bewilderment for a moment or two before frantically nodding his head, not counting on his words in this moment in time. You nodded back before venturing your hand out of his hold and up towards his face to move some of the hair that had fallen over his eyes. He almost quivered at the feeling of your fingers gently touching his hair, silently wanting more though he would never ask.
“I can’t wait.” you admitted gently and quietly, lulling him back into the same enchanting trance he was hit with the moment he caught sight of you for the first time all those months ago.
~ Thanks for reading!
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stuckinthesun · 11 months
Text
×Tic-Tac-Toe×
Part 2
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Black suit mod!Leon x fem!Reader
Leon masterlist
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You hated these banquets, it was just a bunch of rich people trying to prove just how rich they were. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were childhood friends with the president’s daughter, you wouldn’t even be here.
Normally you wouldn’t be here, choosing to make some excuse to get out of it that Ashley would envy you for, but this dinner was an exception. It was to celebrate Ashley’s safe return home from being held hostage in Spain.
You’re here to support your friend, although she keeps being whisked away to talk to random people about her “adventure” like it was some thrilling vacation.
So here you sat, in the back of the room alone, with your own tray of champagne and a pen. What’s the pen for, you ask? Well, as you sat there, drinking and bored out of your mind, you looked down at your legs and realized something. The fishnet stockings you wore made for the perfect tic-tac-toe canvas.
And that’s how you’ve been spending the last ten minutes, playing a game of tic-tac-toe against yourself, when you hear someone clear their throat. You look up, a little sluggishly due to the alcohol in your system, and when you see who’s standing at your table, you’re eyes widen.
Leon S. Kennedy, aka the man who went all the way to Spain and saved Ashley, by himself.
You’ve met him before, briefly, when he first brought Ashley home, but you haven’t really seen him since. You were too focused on your friend to really register anything else.
But now that everything’s calmed down, and Ashley has reassured you that she’s alright, you finally take in the agent who rescued her.
And he looked… he looked good.
The man is wearing a three piece suit, the dress shirt and tie a dark grey and the outer coat a nice black, and he looked at you with amusement as he asked, “Are you playing tic-tac-toe… on your leg?”
You look down at your own leg, as if you needed to confirm that was what you were in fact doing, before looking back up at him, “And what if I am?”
Leon laughs, and it sounds so pretty that you instantly decide you need to hear it again. The man pulls out the chair next to you and sits down, “I’m not judging you, actually seems more entertaining than anything else here.”
“Ah a man with taste,” You say, and move your chair until it’s closer to his before propping your leg up on his lap, “Well then, Leon, X’s or O’s?”
Now it’s you looking at him with amusement as his eyes widen and flicker between your leg in his lap and your face, “You’re serious?”
“Very, now grab a glass and make your move.” You instruct, pushing the pen into his hand and grabbing your own glass before taking a swig.
Leon just looks at you for a moment, and then at the pen in his hand, and then your leg in his lap. You watch him with a raised eyebrow as he seems to shrug to himself, grabs a glass of champagne, down it in one go and then grab your leg, carefully drawing an X through a gap in your stockings.
You whooped a little louder than you meant to, making some of the guests nearby look at the both of you. Leon shushed you with a laugh, putting a hand over your mouth and you giggled, pleased with yourself for hearing that sound again.
Still giggling you took the pen from his grasp and looked at your leg, deciding where to place your move. Leon leaned over a little to watch as he said, “So this is gonna be really awkward since you clearly know my name-“
You let out a dramatic gasp, and look up just in time to watch him roll his eyes while fighting off a smirk, “You don’t know my name?!”
“You never-“
“Shame!”
“You never introduced yourself!” Leon defended himself, picking up another glass of champagne, “You just thanked me, hugged me and left!”
“I was a little preoccupied,” You glare playfully, drawing an O right next to his X, “My best friend just got back from being kidnapped, remember?”
“Yeah, I’m the one that saved her, remember?” Leon leaned closer and plucked the pen from your fingers.
You leaned in closer to, “Yeah, that’s why we’re both at this stupid thing, remember?”
His hand, that had stayed respectfully on your knee since he first touched you, slid a little higher. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his fingers getting caught in your tights and his hot breath fanning your face, “So are you gonna tell me your name, or are you gonna make me guess?”
You smirk and open your mouth-
“Ahem,” The sound of someone clearing their throat startled both of you.
You and Leon jumped away from each other with lightning speed, so fast you about fell out of your chair trying to get your legs off his lap. When you looked up you saw none other than Ashley Graham herself, wearing a shit eating grin as she tried not to laugh.
“Ashley,” You greeted nonchalantly, raising an empty champagne glass toward her.
“Y/N,” Ashley said, unable to hold in a chuckle. You see Leon look at you from your peripheral and sigh, bummed you didn’t get to tell him your name yourself.
“Leon,” Ashley says then, and the agent sits up instantly, looking at the blonde girl, “My dad’s been looking for you.”
“Oh, uh,” Leon looked at you, and you looked back at him with a sad smile. He returned the smile and with a small sigh he stood up, “Right, thanks Ashley.”
“Of course, bye Leon.” Ashley smiled knowingly, and you could’ve sworn you saw the agent blush.
“Bye. It was nice to officially meet you, Y/N.” Leon said, giving you one last smile before walking away, leaving you with your friend.
“Why do you have X’s and O’s on your leg?”
…and ink on your leg.
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I found the picture on the right and just knew I had to write something
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talaok · 11 months
Note
Okay . What about pedro × reader
Hear me out ...
They are dating for a few months but keeping it a secret the reader is also an actress and in her new movie her Co star is into her and with the interviews everyone is talking about in in social media . So pedro gets jealous and show up at her work ... maybe they fight or idk . I'm not sure about the ending
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Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!reader
Summary: Pedro’s jealous of one of your co-stars
Warnings: a tiny bit of angst because I didn’t feel like doing a lot, and allusion to smut
A/n: why do yall like jealous Pedro so much!?
Pedro was not a jealous man, he knew you were his, just like he was yours.
He didn't mind the stares you'd attract from other men, he didn't mind the shameless flirting everyone always directed your way, and he didn't even mind having to see you kiss other men on screen... but there's a limit to everything.
He'd stumbled by accident in the comment section of your most recent post, a picture with the cast of the new movie you were shooting, and god if he wished he hadn't.
He meant to write a cute comment, because even though nobody knew about you two, nobody ever seemed to notice the borderline flirty words he'd leave under your pictures, and now he understood why.
He wasn't completely oblivious to the online conspiracies about you and Andrew, you had told him about it, about all the edits and fans and ships or whatever, however, there was a small detail you had forgotten to inform him about: the guy obviously liked you.
And who could blame him right? 
Pedro. He could fucking blame him.
It didn't take long before he was furiously stalking his own girlfriend's Instagram.
you look stunning darling
Darling? When the fuck did he start calling you that?
I think I just had a heart attack
Oh, fuck off
And that wasn't even the worst part. Fuck no. The worst part was the fucking videos. the interviews. The way his eyes never left your fucking body. The way he touched your hand and lingered just enough for him to notice. the way he didn't even try to hide his pathetic attempts at flirting even when he knew he was being fucking filmed.
By the time Pedro shut his phone, he was ready to go have a “talk” with this guy
But first, he needed to see you. Now.
__ __ __
"God please if it's Gary tell him that I don't need to practice that scene again, I got it." you rolled your eyes as you instructed your assistant to open the trailer's door after hearing a knock.
"sure thing, but I don't think he can be so easily persuad-" her voice trailed off as she took in the man in front of her.
"Hi" she smiled at Pedro "It's-it's not Gary" she shot you a look.
"what, who is it?" you asked, momentarily forgetting the lipstick in your hand as you got up.
"Pedro?"
"hi sweetheart"
"what are you doing here?" you couldn't hide your confusion.
"Just wanted to see you," he said, entering the trailer.
"Oh," you smiled, before glancing at your assistant "I'm sorry Ana, could you give us a moment?"
"no problem, but remember you need to be on set in '15"
"yes ma'am" You joked, giving her a pretend salute.
She chuckled as she closed the door behind her.
"they have you on a tight schedule huh?" Pedro murmured, wasting no time before wrapping his arms around your back, forcing you flush against him.
"they do" you nodded, standing on your toes "So you're not gonna get what you came all this way for" you taunted, leaving a quick kiss on his lips.
He grunted, unsatisfied, and pulled you back for another kiss. This one much hungrier.
"Is that what you think I only think about?"
"well you don't make much of a case for yourself" you laughed softly.
"that's your fault" he breathed "If you weren't the most stunning woman on earth maybe I wouldn't be so all over you"
"maybe" you shrugged, lazily drawing patterns on his chest "Maybe not"
"I need to talk to you," he said, suddenly more serious.
A cloud of dread dropped onto you.
"oh," you murmured, taking a step back "about what?"
He looked around the place before finding your eyes again.
"I want to tell everyone"
You frowned 
"I want to tell people we're together"
You were taken aback.
He was always the one opposed to it. He didn't want you to get caught in all the drama and gossip inevitably heading your way, no matter how many times you told him you didn't care.
"What?" you smiled "Why- I mean why now?"
"I want everyone to know you're mine. And I'm yours" he said " including Andrew"
You shot him a look "Andrew?"
"You didn't tell me he's obsessed with you"
"what? He's not"
"he is baby,"
"how would you even know?"
"I saw it"
"When? You've never met him"
"I saw the comments, and the interviews, and the videos"
"And you think just because in an interview he did what? made me laugh, he likes me?" you scoffed "That's ridiculous Pedro"
"I don't want to tell everyone we're together just because you're jealous of a guy I work with," 
"that's not why I want to tell sweetheart" he reassured you, taking a step towards you " I want everyone to know just how much I love you, that's why. And if that means that guys like Andrew will back off... even better"
"He's not into me" you insisted
A sly smile pulled at his lips "God baby, you really have no idea what you do to men, do you?"
"He's not into me."
"Sure" he mocked "and tell me, when was the last time he didn't do something you asked him?" He asked, moving some hair out of your face.
An almost comical silence spread through the room.
"That's what I thought" he nodded, using his fingers to raise your chin.
"Maybe he's just polite"
He leaned closer, his mouth ghosting yours "Or maybe he's just in love with my girl" he breathed a moment before kissing you deeply, one hand to the back of your neck and one to your ass.
"so what do you say?" he asked once you parted "You ready to tell the world?"
"Only if you are"
"oh you have no idea" he murmured, suddenly picking you up and pinning you against a wall.
A small gasp fled your lips, but he silenced it with a kiss.
"Pedro..." you warned him, tightening your legs' grip on his waist.
"they can wait" he read your mind "You're the start after all"
You couldn't help but laugh at that.
"you're a bad influence" you breathed, causing a smirk to land on his lips as he kissed your neck.
"sweetheart?" he suddenly asked
"Yeah?" you murmured, already out of breath.
"Whose trailer is next to this one?"
You paused a moment, pondering your options.
"Andrew's" you finally spoke, going for the truth “Why?”
By the look of it, that’s exactly what he wanted to hear.
“Baby,I think you know why”
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maxillness · 3 months
Text
Only For Me To Hear || LN4 x Reader
Warnings: 18+, Unprotected sex, mean!reader, spanking, Dacryphilia, Degrading kink, handjob, overstimulation, mommy kink, orgasm delay, mention of safe word(not actually used), sub!lando, super fluffy and sweet aftercare
Wordcount: 1.6k
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She looked at her phone as she heard the ping of a notification
Landonorris is playing Escape From Tarkov
She closed her book and got up from her spot on the bed. She went to the living room, sat on the couch and turned on the tv to watch her friends stream
It all went good. She was laughing, she was happy he looked happy. He was having a time which made her happy
It was all good up until she had looked away for a second, and she heard him moan. She quickly looked to the screen to see him smirk
She didn’t think much of it, as she thought she heard wrong, but she got furious when he did it again
This time, this time she was sure she heard right. She picked up her phone, went to her messages app and found his number
Stop it
She saw he had seen the message, but kept going anyway
I’m warning you, Norris
He kept ignoring her messages and kept moaning into the mic
This has big consequences, Lando
Yeah, sure, they weren’t dating, but he was only for her. He was hers, and he knew that
She got out to her car and arrived at Lando’s place, just In time for him to end the stream. He walked out into the kitchen seeing his very mad friend leaning against the counter
“Oh, hey. When did you get here?” He asked placing his cup in the sink and walked out again
“Don’t you ‘Oh, hey’ me. You know what you’ve done wrong” She said as she grabbed his wrist to turn him around to face her
“I have no idea what you’re talking about” He smiled trying to turn back around, but her hands grabbed him tight and pushed him up against the nearest wall roughly
“You know exactly why I’m mad. Don’t try an act innocent” He whined at her words as he looked down at her “What? Not so mouthy now, Norris?” She said seductively looking up at him
“‘M sorry, love” He whined putting his hands on her waist. He pulled her closer to kiss her cheek
“Don’t try to apologise” She pulled him by his shirts collar and dragged him towards his bedroom “Let’s see if you can listen this time. Clothes off, ass on the air, and face into the pillow” He obeyed quickly
In record time, he was naked and laid with his ass up in the air and his face in the pillow. He turned his face to the side to look at her standing beside him
“Please, don’t be to harsh on me” He spoke up to her
“I’ll give you what you deserve, Lan” He shivered as her cold hand lightly danced along his back. Her hand landed on his ass
He grabbed the sheets tightly, preparing the pain from the impact he was gonna get. A second went by before he felt her hand leave his ass. She swung her hand back to his ass
He whimpered at the contact of her hand against his bare ass “Please, I’m sorry, love”
“Don’t give me your pathetic pleas now. If you had just followed instructions as I told them; this wouldn’t my have happened” Her voice was rough and stern
A whimper left his mouth and a few tears left his eyes as he was hit again “Please, I’m begging you, love. I’m sorry”
“You deserve this, Lando. Three more, and that’s it” She told him before landing another slap on his ass. He whimpered, almost moaning at the contact
“I wanna hear your fucking moans, Norris. They are for me to hear, and only for me to hear” She said stern, landing another hit on his ass. He moaned at the contact
“There you go, baby. You’re only missing one” He moaned louder with the last slap against his cheek, but not without leaving a few trails of tears down his cheeks
She soothed his skin lightly. She flinched at her touch, and whined from the pain “You did so good for me baby. But I’m not done with you” He whimpered at her words “Get on your back” He quickly got his back, looking up at her
The precum from his tip slowly slid down his shaft as he laid on the bed awaiting her actions “What do you think you deserve, Lando? Hm?” She looked down at him with a stern stare
When he didn’t answer, she spoke up again “Should I just let you be? Should I go home and let you lay here with a hardon?” He just shook his head “Should I jerk you off and not stop until you’re a shaking and trembling mess and so over stimulated you want me to stop?”
He only whimpered at her suggestion “Is that a yes? You think you deserve to be tortured?” She raised her eyebrows at him. He could only nod “Use your words, whore”
He whimpered before he spoke up “Yes. Yes, I deserve to be tortured” He pressed his body deeper Into the madras
She pushed him a little to the side so she could sit on the bed beside him without falling off. She took her hand up to his face
“Spit” He didn’t need more words to know what she wanted. He spat in her palm before she drew it back. She placed her hand around his cock
“Please” His head rolled back into the pillow and his hips bucked up into her hand “Please. I promise I’ll be good” His eyes were desperate as he looked up at her
“We’ll see if you can keep that promise” She stroked him painfully slow for his liking, but it still made him moan loud and his knuckles turn white from the grip on the sheets
“F-fuck-Ah. Please, faster” His breath was fast and short as his moans and whines were loud
“I thought you said you didn’t t deserve the pleasure, Lan. I thought you said you deserved to be tortured” He voice was soft yet stern as she kept her slow pace
“Please, please, plea-Ah. Fuck, I’m begging you, love” His hand went to her thigh and dug his nails into her skin as his back arched off the madras “Please, baby, I’m sorry” A tear fell down his cheek as he begged “I promise I’ll be good”
“Here’s the deal, if you come when I say, and not a moment earlier, I’ll think about going sweet on you, but if you do come without permission, I’ll torture you until sunrise. You got that?” She asked slowing down her movements to almost stop
“Yes, deal. Please, I’ll be so good for you mommy” He knew she got turned on when he called her that. He was playing dirty
“What did I say about being a good boy? Don’t play dirty with me, Love” He whimpered at her words as she didn’t speed up again
“I’m sorry, really, I am. Please, baby” His grip on her bare thigh got stronger, definitely leaving marks later
She sped up slightly to her previous pace, making him moan louder as his eyes closed and his head rolled back into the pillow
“Fuck, baby- Ah. I’m gonna cum” He cried out, his voice in a high pitch
“No. No, you’re not” She tangled her hand I got the nape of his neck to tug on his curls. She leaned down and started attacking his neck and throat with open mouthed kisses, coating him in her saliva
“Fuck, baby. You make me feel so good” She could feel him twitch in her hand and hear his shutter in his breath
She leaned back to take a good look at him. He was so pretty like this. So fucked out and sweaty, begging her to let him cum
Without warning, he came with her name rolling off his tongue. She didn’t stop her movements, and she only sped up
“Fuck, baby, ‘s too much” His thighs were shaking and he was quirking under her “Please, I’m sorry” More tears streamed down his cheeks
“It was our deal, Lando. You came without permission. And you need to learn how to obey. I told you to stop moaning on stream, you didn’t listen. These moans are only for me to hear. Only for me to hear. You got that?” Her words where sharp and direct
“Yes, I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again, please, Love. It’s too much for me” She didn’t stop, knowing he would say his safe word if it was actually too much
She could feel him twitch in her hand again, and his moans were turning into whimpers and whines
“Cum for me baby” He didn’t need another confirmation before he came for the second time
She helped him ride out his orgasm before she walked to the bathroom to get a damp towel. She cleaned him up and walked out to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for him
“Here, Love” She handed him the bottle. He took it and took a big sip of it before closing it again. He patted the space beside him
She got into the bed with him, letting him use her chest as a pillow. She stroked his sweaty curls, soothing him to sleep
“I love you” He mumbled. She was taken aback from his words, but said it back anyways
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papercorgiworld · 3 months
Text
The Death Eater Drabbles III
Can’t escape these feelings
Mattheo, Theo, Enzo, Draco and Blaise
As feelings become undeniable, so does the reality that forbidden love can never bloom
You don’t have to read part one and two, but it’ll make more sense if you do.
Warning: none? This just fluff and a bit of angst
A/N: I honestly don’t know if this is any good, I have a cold and not just a normal small cough cough cold, no I have one of those colds when walking feels like exercising and death is around the corner kind of cold. 🤧 But my two braincells really did their best.
Read part four here.
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You had found a magical enchantment that kept him tied up and let him free at the same time. He could roam around the house, but if he were to reach for you or try to escape a magical robe would tie his hands and feet together. The eye wouldn’t notice if it weren’t for the soft glinster you could see around his wrists when the sun fell right.
By now the both of you had been cooked up together in the small house for a little over a week and weirdly enough it went without too much trouble, aside from a few small arguments. However, there was something undeniable in the air.
Mattheo Riddle
“Matt, can you reach that little box on the top shelf?” Mattheo’s eyes scan all the way up to the little box. “No love, I’m no giant.” You chuckle. “I’ll go get my wand.” Before you can even take one step Mattheo is in front of you. “No, no, I’ll pick you up.” He says as his arms snake around you only to be immediately pulled back. Mattheo hisses in pain and you stare at the burn marks the magic left on his wrists. For the first time in a week you are both reminded that he is your prisoner. “Right, forgot about this. I’m not allowed to touch you, because I’m dangerous.” Silence fills the room as your mind and heart are at war.
“You’re not dangerous.” You say and reach for his wrists, partially lifting the spell, to slowly guide his hands towards your hips. Without any rope burning into his skin Mattheo wraps his arms around you and lifts you up. You place your hands on his shoulders for support only letting go to reach for the little box of herbs. When you return your gaze he’s still staring at you, while slowly lowering you. “It would’ve been easier to use magic.” You say with your feet back on the ground and Mattheo’s arms still around you. “This feels like magic to me.” Mattheo blurs out and makes you smile as a blush forms on your cheeks. Realizing how cringy his statement was Mattheo awkwardly chuckles and lets go of you. “I think that is my cue to go to bed.”
Mattheo throws his shirt on the bed while he is still cursing himself for saying something so cheesy. She’s getting into my head! Making me feel at home here, like I could ever have that. But he wasn’t the only one confused about his feelings. It was all your conflicting feelings that led you to Mattheo’s room. “I meant what I said. I don’t think you’re dangerous. I’m not afraid of you.” Startled by your sudden presence and your words Mattheo stares at you. He wants to hold you in his arms so bad that it frightens him. “Maybe you should be afraid of me.” We can’t do this, princess, we can’t start caring in the middle of a war.
Theodore Nott
“That’s the second time you’ve ruined that potion.” You glare at Theodore, who’s standing next to you staring at your cauldron. “I don’t know what I keep doing wrong.” Theodore grins as you scan over the instructions again. “It’s the stirring movement. It’s very specific and you screw it up every time.” You frown. “There’s nothing wrong with how I stirr.” Theo smirks and reaches for your hand. “I’ll show you.” An Italian curse escapes Theo’s lips as his wrist starts burning and he immediately pulls his hand back. It was a painful reminder of reality and you avoided Theo’s eyes as you watched his hands. “I forgot, I can’t be trusted. I might murder you in your sleep.” Now you look up and you let yourself be swallowed by his eyes as you try to make sense of your feelings.
“I do trust you.” You say and trace his wrists with your finger, lifting the spell just enough for him to touch you. Theodore watches your movements with soft eyes. “Show me.” You say and Theo nods as he shuffles closer to you to wrap his hand around yours. Immediately his warmth captivates you and your body sinks into his. Theodore struggles to focus and even screws up the first time moving your hand all wrong. “No, sorry, it’s like this.” The second time he carefully moves your hand exactly how you should stirr the potion. Theodore lets go of your hand and you’re both relieved when there’s finally some distance between you two.
“Thank you.” You almost whisper, while your face is still flushed from Theo’s warmth. “You’ll get it right this time.” Theodore says and walks past you, avoiding eye contact. “Theodore, I meant what I said. I do trust you.” Your words make Theodore turn around. “You shouldn’t.” Is all Theo says before leaving for his room. He needed to be miles away from you. You have no idea how much I feel for you that I’m not allowed to feel.
Enzo Berkshire
“Enz, can you get me a little bandaid? I’m bleeding all over the kitchen.” Enzo came rushing towards you as soon as he heard that you were bleeding. “What happened?-oh.” He relaxes when he sees you’ve cut your finger. “It’s just a small cut but I can’t get it to stop bleeding.” Enzo nods and goes through the drawers in search of a bandaid. “You should really leave the cooking to me for your own safety.” You chuckle. “You’re probably right.” Enzo walks towards you with the intention of wrapping the bandaid around your finger, but as soon as he gets too close he pulls back and a soft cry of pain leaves his lips. Enzo looks down at the floor as he’s reminded that in reality you’re miles apart. “Sorry, (y/n), I can’t help you because I’m your enemy, remember.” Your heart breaks at the idea of Enzo and you actually being enemies.
You instantly forget about the little cut and reach for his hands, altering the spell so he’s no longer considered a threat to you. “You and I are not enemies, Enzo.” He watches your hands in his and squeezes them softly, before spotting your bleeding finger. “Good, now I can help you.” Enzo lets go of your hand, but holds onto the one with the bleeding finger. Carefully he wraps your finger and leaves a soft peck on it. “All done.” You smile your brightest smile at his sweet gesture. “I meant it. You and I’ll never be enemies, Enzo. I won’t let it happen.” Enzo stares at you for what feels like an eternity. “I fear that we don’t get to decide that.” Because if it truly was up to me, I would have you in my arms.
Draco Malfoy
You were so engrossed in your book that you refused to get up and get a blanket for the cold. “You are such a bizarre creature.” Draco mutters as he now feels obliged to get up. You curiously watch him walk up to you with a soft blanket. You can’t help the cheeky smile on your face and Draco rolls his eyes, hating it when you get all cute and glowy about his acts of kindness. A sudden and loud yell from Draco pulls you out of your bubble. “Damn these!” Draco snares as he looks at his wrists. You immediately reach for his hands and gently caress the burning skin. “I keep forgetting about these things and the fact that in your eyes I’m a villain.”
You sigh as you are also reminded of the ongoing war that often seems so far away. You partially release the spell. “I know better than that. I don’t think you’re the bad guy. I get that things are complicated.” Draco softens at your words and for a moment as he wraps the blanket around you there is even a hint of a smile on his lips. For a blissful second all is fine in the world. “Yeah, but maybe it’s better if you continue to think of me as the villain in order to not make matters more complicated.” Draco makes sure the blanket is tightly around your body before getting up. You refuse to leave it at that and turn your head to where he was headed. “I think it’s too late for that, I could never simply see you as a bad guy, I know you are more.” Draco stops for a moment and wants to turn around, back to you, but decides against it and returns to his room. Trust me (y/n), if you truly knew me you wouldn’t be able to look at me, leave alone love me.
Blaise Zabini
A lot of noise and a yelp from you had Blaise running through the hallway to find you sitting at the bottom of the staircase. “I fell.” You state the obvious and Blaise can’t help but smile as he crouches down next to you. “Are you hurt?” You shake your head. “No, maybe a few bruises, but nothing is broken.” “Okay, then let's get you up, clumsy.” Blaise’s arm snakes around you, but is immediately pulled back. The burning on his wrist makes Blaise grit his teeth. “For a moment there I thought we were back at Hogwarts, you know, before I became the evil death eater that wants to hurt you.” You frown and reach arms, sliding down your hands until they’re wrapped around his wrists.
“I know you would never hurt me. I know you.” You squeeze Blaise’s hands and he looks into your eyes, finding comfort in their sincerity. He nods and this time successfully snakes his arm around you. “Let’s get you up to your feet.” You stumble a bit and he holds you close, enjoying your warmth. You rest your hand on his shoulder for support. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head or something?” You let out a laugh and shake your head. “No need to worry, I’m fine.” A genuine smile appears on Blaise’s face and you enjoy the soft moment between you two.
When he lets go of you the hallway suddenly feels cold and empty. “I know that becoming a death eater wasn’t your choice.” You attempt to return the light you just felt in the room, but Blaise doesn’t join you in your effort. “Choice or not. I am one. And we shouldn’t forget that.” You and I can never happen.
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