#and i had such a lovely time brushing this 29-year-old good boy that i almost cried lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milkpup · 4 months

Text

｡⋆ʚ♡ like father, like son

nsfw 18+ ongoing multi-chapter fic!

art creds: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/113712140

♡ next chapter ♡

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› toji fushiguro x reader ›› megumi fushiguro x reader ›› toji x reader x megumi (mfm) ›› 18+ f!reader ›› started: 12/6/23 : updated: 1/29/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are best friends. You've known eachother for almost your whole life. His home has become your second home. As time passes and life happens, Megumi slowly develops feelings for you, even though he's unaware of it. To complicate things further, you're now living with him and his father, who has also taken a liking to you.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, power imbalance, pseudo-incest (they both want y/n, nothing w/ eachother), dubious consent

‹𝟹 tags: good cop bad cop, fluff, smut, angst, toji has a big dick, dilf toji, toji is his own warning, toji tries to be a good parent, toji is an asshole, toji is trying okay?, daddy dom toji, daddy kink, porn with feelings, porn with plot, friends to lovers, spit / spitting, spit kink, spit as lube, breeding, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, double vaginal pen, double pen, anal, making out, making love, love triangles, praise kink, degradation, light masochism, light sadism, emotional sex, cuckolding, jealousy, jealousy kink, smoking, smoking kink, emotional manipulation, manipulation, polyamory?, father and son share you, protective megumi fushiguro, megumi needs a hug, megumi has a big dick, aged up characters, dead dove: do not eat, finger sucking, large cock, cum swallowing, blow jobs, first time blow jobs, under desk blow jobs, fingerfucking, face sitting, face riding, 69, mutual masturbation, threesome mfm, lots of smut, loss of virginity

‹𝟹 notes: this story is originally posted on ao3! this will have dark themes, if you do not like, DO NOT INTERACT! this is a multi chapter fic that is still in progress as of posting on tumblr (1/9/24). it will be updated as i write more :) i will add links to the next chapters as i post them on this thread or smthn (idk how to use tumblr lol)

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Like Father, Like Son by milkpup

Chapter 1: Promises

“When we get older, let’s get married!” you exclaimed to Megumi, who was sitting next to you on the park bench. “We know each other best, so if we find no one else by the time we go to college, let’s get together!”

You were both in middle school still. You’ve been extremely close friends since you were young children. Megumi and his father lived in the same neighborhood as you. As a natural result of your home life being chaotic and dysfunctional, you spent most of your childhood at Megumi’s.

You were still girly and feminine, but having a guy best friend meant that you had interests more like his. You both grew up playing games together, sitting in front of the tv into late hours into the night. You were a sore loser. He was always better at any games you two played, like mario kart, fighting games, whatever it was, he was better. This meant you constantly tried to improve your skills; you wanted the satisfaction of making him lose, but you also wanted him to be impressed.

You didn’t quite understand it at the time. Why did you want to impress Megumi? It’s just a game. You brushed it off. Friendly competition never hurt, right?

Years pass, the same old routine. You coming over to Megumi’s house after school, staying late or sometimes spending the night. His father, Toji, saw you as his own. A daughter he never had.

It was hard after Megumi’s mother passed. Toji was more reserved, more monotonous. It seemed like the vibrancy and color of his soul was dulled. His wife was the one person he truly cared for, who he loved, and who gave meaning to his life. Being a single father of a young boy was rough. He appreciated that you brought joy to his son’s life. He appreciated that, as you grew older, you would help around at his house. Cooking, cleaning, whatever it was, you would help lessen the load on Toji.

In the middle of your senior year of highschool, tragedy struck the community. Your parents were killed by a drunk driver. It all happened so fast. You feel selfish and would never admit this, but you were sort of relieved. You rarely spent time at home. Your father was an abusive drunk and would target you and your mother. Your mother tried to protect you the best she could. She wanted you to be safe. She was always relieved when you would text or call her saying you were staying at Megumi’s. She trusted that boy and knew he would never be like your father.

You were sad your mother was gone. But at least she now knew peace. A tragic end, yes, but better than watching her be abused by your father.

You started living with Megumi full time. It was already basically your home in the first place, just more official now. You appreciated Toji welcoming you into his home with open arms, letting you live there full time. He was more of a father than your sperm donor parent was.

In return, you cooked and cleaned almost exclusively. You didn’t necessarily mind. You didn’t see it as demeaning, but rather as a way to show your gratitude. Cooking was also a cathartic release for you; it allowed you to remove yourself from tough emotions and focus on the task on hand. And you absolutely loved when people would praise your cooking. Thus, you were constantly trying new recipes and techniques, chasing new flavors.

Toji appreciated you basically taking on the household responsibilities while he worked long hours. He has a provider mindset. He wants to fulfill his role of providing while a woman in his life would take care of the home and enrich his life.

A few times he caught himself being reminded of his wife whenever you would do something for him. Your cooking tasted like home. Your smile and laugh were intoxicating. You had a gentle and kind soul, willing to look past anything for the right person. He felt almost uncomfortable, as if he should not be having thoughts of his late wife when looking at his pseudo-daughter. But he couldn’t help it. He’s a simple man.

“Good morning, Toji!” You say while something is sizzling in the pan. “I hope you’re feeling something sweet this morning!”

Toji smiles lightly. “What are you making today, little miss chef?”

“French toast!” You turn around to face him, wearing a cute apron and holding the spatula in your hand.

Toji notices the cooking must’ve gotten a bit messy, there was flour on your apron and some powdered on your cheeks. He thought it was insanely adorable.

“I’m excited to try it. Your food never ceases to amaze me.”

Good thing you had already turned back toward the stove, otherwise Toji would have saw the bright red blush creep across your face. “T-thank you… I’m glad you like it. It’s almost done.”

You could feel him watching you from behind. It was different than usual, you felt nervous? You couldn’t possibly know this at the time, but Toji was eyeing you down. Noticing the way your apron is tied around your waist, your ass in your cute shorts, messy hair, it was all perfect to him.

“All done!” You say as you start plating the French toast. “I’m going to go wake Megumi, but please try it while it’s still hot!!” You move to untie your apron, Toji never breaking his gaze on your form.

You walk towards Megumi’s room, approaching the door and knocking. “Heyyy Megs! Breakfast is ready! I know you like sweet food, so I made French toast! Come get it while it’s still hot!”

You don’t hear much behind the door, but your stomach rumbling forces you to go back to the table. You were practically drooling the whole time thinking about how delicious this food was going to be.

You re-enter the dining room and sit across Toji. He’s already started eating, and he looks like he’s enjoying it. You didn’t take him for a sweets for breakfast type of guy, so you ask him “Is it good?”

He looks up at you, and it sends shivers down your spine. “It’s delicious, sweetheart. I’ll eat anything you give me. Anything.” He smirks. He figures that isn’t crossing any lines, just playful banter and teasing. He watches your face turn a bit red as you try and hide it while eating.

Back in Megumi’s room, he’s slowly waking up. He doesn’t feel well-rested. “Probably due to that weird dream last night”, he thinks to himself. He doesn’t know why his brain chose now of all times to remember the promise you two made to eachother all those years ago. He figures you probably forgot about it; but for him, he can’t get it out his mind.

He shakes his head. “Whatever, I need to get ready.” He will deal with his feelings and emotions later. He remembers you mentioning sweet food and he’s already out the door. His hair is still messy, his pajamas still on.

As Toji moves to pick up his keys and leave for work, Megumi sits down next to you. He takes in the sweet aroma of French toast covered in powdered sugar and fruit. His stomach is painfully growling at this point. He serves himself and takes a bite, absolutely melting in bliss. You always make the best food, and this is no exception.

You watch as he seems excited to eat. He looks absolutely adorable, his emotions on full display as easily as a book can be read. You can tell he’s happy in this moment, and you find yourself smiling, knowing it was you that brought this.

“This is amazing. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously!”

You blush. Compliments and praise feel different from Megumi. They feel genuine and sincere, full of warmth and love.

You finish up and start cleaning. You and Megumi have the same major and a bunch of the same classes, you both need to get ready soon. Megumi gets up to help you clean.

As he stands next to your side, drying dishes as you wash them, he tells you his thoughts. He doesn’t know how to best bring it up. He’s a shy guy, so he goes for the most direct route to get it out as fast as possible. “Y/N, do you remember the promise we made in middle school?” He’s looking down at the sink, awaiting your response.

“Of course Gumi, how could I forget?” You’re slightly teasing him at this point. You were actually surprised that HE would remember that. You wonder why he’s bringing it up, and ask him. “Why?”

Silence follows your question for a few moments. “I’m not sure…. I was just thinking about it.”

Hearing his response makes you blush and your heart beat faster. What does he mean he was thinking about it? He can’t be serious?

“We can talk more about it later. We need to get ready, Y/N.” You’re thankful he gave you an opening to escape this awkward situation. It wasn’t a weird awkward, but more embarrassing than anything.

You keep asking yourself why he would be thinking about it, now of all times. You are starting college now, so you figure now would be the timeframe of the promise in question. But you didn’t think he would be serious about it. You return your room, trying to distract yourself by getting ready.

Megumi waits for you to finish getting ready in the living room. You exit your room, wearing simple yet cute clothes. Megumi finds it adorable how you can look good in literally anything. Even wearing the simplest outfits, leggings and a t-shirt, and you still look breathtaking. He feels weird again, thinking about his best-friend like this. He’s just simply observing and appreciating good style, right? That’s what he will tell himself.

You and Megumi carpool to campus together. You both say it’s for the environment, but you both know it’s because you absolutely hate driving.

The car ride there is always the same, listening to music together and talking. Since you both have the same classes, you are already study buddies. You’re both excited to keep going to school together.

Megumi listens as you talk about your newest fictional crush obsession. He thinks it’s so adorable how you could talk forever and ever about the things you like. He listens and observes, not wanting to interrupt your sweet voice.

‹𝟹 notes: i have 4 chapters written for this fic so far. i'll start migrating them from ao3 to here! lmk what y'all think! feedback is always appreciated :3! check out my ao3 if you want to read what else i have posted! thanks! <3

♡︎ next chapter ♡︎

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

253 notes · View notes

indigoraysoflight · 8 months

Note

29 nedcat 💓

Hey nonny, here you go <3

29. childhood friends

She had to stop smiling at him. Her cheeks hurt, and he most definitely thought she was being a weirdo now. It had only been a couple of hours; it was too early to break the weird meter.

When she saw him emerge through the double doors of the event hall at their high school reunion, she recognized him instantly. His jet-black hair was tucked behind his ears, and his warm grey eyes searched for any face he could remember. Then his eyes locked with hers across the room, and he granted her his rare true smile.

Ned.

A thrill that lay dormant within her for 20 years crashed against her and rippled through her. A smile tugged at her face, and Catelyn couldn't stop herself from jogging up to him and hugging him tightly. They spoke to each other almost exclusively for an hour, retracing their steps and catching up.

He'd joined his father's firm and adopted his sister's son - Jon - after she passed away in an accident a few years ago. He moved to Riverrun with his son a few months ago to diversify their business in the south. Catelyn told him of Brienne - the girl she was adopting after fostering her for a few years. They'd swapped their life stories and reminisced until he leaned in and asked, want to see if that drive-in theater is still open?

Now she was sitting in his car with a smile plastered on her face with the two triple thick chocolate milkshakes and one greasy pepperoni pizza watching him run into her favourite bakery to see if they had any lemon cakes left at the end of the day.

He walked out with a big smile and held up a brown paper box. "SUCCESS!"

"My hero," Catelyn giggled before she could stop herself. "That's not- I mean. That's nice. Thank you."

My hero? Really Catelyn, can you try to be subtle? She laughed nervously and looked away as the flush in her cheeks got worse. She wanted to throw herself out of the car and hide. It was bad enough that she'd spent all evening ogling at his chiseled jawline and broad shoulders, but now she had to act like a lovesick teenager too.

"I dunno if it's me being a hero or simply outrunning that old man who looked pissed that I got the last lemon cake." His voice rumbled through her as they drove to the late show of When Harry Met Sally.

"Are you saying you'd fight an old man to get me lemon cakes, Ned Stark?"

"Absolutely." The utter seriousness in his voice made her laugh.

That laughter melted into a deep-seated longing within her as soon as the movie began. Catelyn didn't know if it was the movie they'd watched in this drive-in theater at least ten times in high school, the fact that he'd almost dueled an old man for pastries, or that he was here. Ned. Older, wiser, and rougher around the edges - but he was still Ned.

Her Ned - who would stay up late to help her study for her English exams, bought pastries for her every Friday with his allowance, held her through the grief of losing her mother, and brought a new flower for her from his visit to Winterfell each summer. The boy she'd been in love with for as long as she could remember. Her first love, first kiss, first - everything. The one that got away when they had no choice but to part ways after high school because he moved back home to Winterfell, and she went back to Riverrun.

Billy Crystal's face on the screen blurred in her eyes. It was Ned's calloused thumb brushing the tear on her cheek that moved her gaze to him. His eyes had been on her - she didn't know for how long.

"I've missed you so much," his voice was thick with everything she wanted to say to him.

"Are you... will you....do you.." Are you staying? Will you leave again? I can't lose you again....she trailed off not knowing how to form the words to express what she meant.

"I'm here to stay." His thumb brushed against her jawline, and his eyes fixed on her lips.

"Good." Catelyn's eyes dropped to his lips.

In the background, Harry started his famous monologue as the movie approached its happy ending.

She didn't know which one of them closed the gap, but when Ned Stark's lips collided against her own - Catelyn Tully was home.

"...I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of the life to start as soon as possible."

#the last part is from Harry met Sally if you haven't watched the movie #highly recommend checking out the monologue if you havent watched the whole movie it's cute #ned x cat #writing prompts #anon ask #my fics #ned x cat short fics

15 notes · View notes

sunnydaleherald · 1 year

Text

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Wednesday, January 4th

DAWN: Um, guys, hello, puberty? Sorta figured out the whole no Santa thing. ANYA: That's a myth. DAWN: Yeah. ANYA: No, I mean, it's a myth that it's a myth. There is a Santa Claus. Everyone looks surprised. XANDER: The advantage of having a thousand-year-old girlfriend. (turns to Anya) Inside scoop.

~~The Body~~

The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor. Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here.

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Too Quiet by badly_knitted (Buffy, PG)

Buffy's Proud Mother by Apache Firecat (Joyce, Spike/Buffy, PG-13/T)

Love Me Like You Do by kerk-hiraeth (Tara/Faith, NC-17)

Earth Goddess by madimpossibledreamer (Buffy/Yakuza AU, Andrew, Xander, Teen)

Mother's Boy by Nope (Connor/Darla, M)

Minty Goodness by Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89 (Angel/Spike, E)

Ficlet for the prompt "Adopting a pet together" by explosionshark (Buffy/Faith, not rated - worksafe)

A ficlet for the prompt "Brushing their teeth together" by explosionshark (Buffy/Faith, not rated - worksafe)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Water, put out this burning world, Ch. 3 by TuoshNell (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Mr. & Mrs. Normal, Ch. 2 by TuoshNell (Buffy/Spike, R)

The Time We Had, Ch. 28 by Dusty (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Learning To Be Love's Bitch, Ch. 25 by Desicat (Buffy/Spike, R)

A Road So Rough, Ch. 8 by cawthraven (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Hold My Hand Even Though I’m a Sinner! Ch. 15 by CheekyKitten (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Piercings, Ch. 5 by MelG_2005 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Odd Couple, Ch. 4 by honeygirl51885 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Break Even, Ch. 4 by violettathepiratequeen (Buffy/Spike, PG)

The 12 Days of Christmas, Ch. 4 by RavenLove12, Geliot99 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Written in the Dust, Ch. 2 by Indi_Shaw (Buffy/Spike, R)

In The Dark With You, Ch. 1-3 by Geliot99 (Buffy/Spike, R)

Spiderwebs, Ch. 1 by Willow25 (Buffy/Spike, R)

Psych-Out Wolves 1 ½: The Almost Sequel, Ch. 6 by calikocat (Psych crossover, Xander, Angel Investigations, FR18)

The Time We Had, Ch. 29 by Dusty (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

take me home, Ch. 6 by HappyWhenItRains (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

I Ragazzi Sono Tornati in Città (the boys are back in town), Ch. 1-2 (COMPLETE!) by Dynamite (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Other Side of the Door, Ch. 2 by myrabeth (Buffy/Spike, M)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Digital painting: Buffy by finchmarie (worksafe)

[Reviews & Recaps]

[Wow, the romantic plot lines in s2 are a wild ride] by aboonebeckerboone

The Body by alas-poor-cesario

The sixth episode of each season by fallingtowers

ReWatch: Buffy the Vampire Slayer - S5, E12 - 13 (Checkpoint and Blood Ties) by kimannebb

ReWatch: Buffy the Vampire Slayer - S5, E14 - 15 (Crush and I Was Made to Love You) by kimannebb

ReWatch: Buffy the Vampire Slayer - S5, E16 - 17 (The Body and Forever) by kimannebb

ReWatch: Buffy the Vampire Slayer - S5, E 18 - 19 (Intervention and Tough Love) by kimannebb

Buffy 5x17, Forever by oonerspisms

The Body by nowmostlyabuffyblog

Does anyone else think the music at the end of “when she was bad” feels out of place? by thendanisays

What are your top 5 "normal" episodes? by meh316

5.06 The Cautionary Tale of Numero Cinco | Angel on Top

Pop Culture Role Call: DiCaprioscity - Angel S03E21 - Benediction

[Recs & In Search Of]

TheaxSleepCat is looking for a specific Spuffy Fic (AU where Buffy meets Spike in a hospital)

[Fandom Discussions]

all the random people at buffys 19th birthday party by all-seeing-ifer

Favorite OTPs ft. Buffy/Angel and Willow/Tara; favorite female characters ft. Buffy and Willow by cuddlyreader

[For me Willow's addiction storyline made perfect sense] by girl4music

Faith Lehane is the MVP! by juanabaloo

Soulless!Spike wanting to try to align himself with Buffy’s code of ethics... was inherently retraumatizing to Buffy by over-the-misty-mountains

I wonder if part of Dawn's issues with being left behind... by over-the-misty-mountains

I would really like to see a very specific kind of comic reboot by takaraphoenix

Thoughts on BtVS (OP doesn't like Angel and Riley) by the-moons-kind-regards

Re: wish Bangel had had more happy times in S2 before Innocence by we-pay-for-everything

the things i love and wish were developed more in the btvs boys (ft. especially Xander, Riley, Giles, Angel) by clockwards

Tara headcanons by clockwards

I'm glad that neither Bangel nor Spuffy wound up being the "endgame" ship by deadthingu

Headcanon re: how Dawn grieves Spike: so much good punk/emo music came out in 2004 by disco-tea

buffy should have become an information service professional by nowmostlyabuffyblog

Re: do you hate angel? by scaryscarier

btvs fan fiction writing prompts by knives

What Are Your Overall Thoughts On Giles? hosted by Antwuan89

What bands would the Scoobies have been into? by LcSc0t

Anyone else love Dawn's character in season 7? by jdpm1991

Buffy’s Enneagram + MBTI by 7heChos3n0ne

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series

5 notes · View notes

silverdelirium · 3 years

Text

STICKY WASHING MACHINE PART TWO | D.M

a/n: i feel like this is so bad but hold on to this while i finish that blaise smut <3

summary: just soft sex with draco after you thought you were getting fired

warnings: bit of clit play, riding, sex on a two seater swing chair, mentions of anxiety, slight dirty talk, bulge kink

find part one here.

———

the quietude was almost nerve-wracking as you sat down on the dinner table, draco’s eyes boring down onto the side of your face as you kept yours on your plate.

scorpius was the first to speak— you almost forgot he was there, to be honest.

“i drew us another picture today, daddy” he beamed.

“did you now?” replied draco, matching the little boy’s enthusiasm. his gaze now settled on his son instead of you.

“yes! y/n helped me with it”

great. now both of the malfoy’s eyes were directed towards you. you didn’t know where or who to look at, too traumatized to look at scorpius knowing that he almost walked in on his father about to go balls deep inside of you— and you didn’t want to look at draco because what if the moment you were alone he was gonna ask you to leave for throwing yourself at your boss like a prostitute from the street.

maybe you were overreacting but it didn’t soothe your anxiousness in the slightest when draco turned his head to scorpius and asked him to go wait for him at his playroom until he was done having “a little chat” with you.

scorpius nodded quickly and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek as he ran off upstairs.

as the pitter-patter of the child’s feet died down, you gathered up all the courage you could find and looked up at the blonde who was already staring down at you.

“that’s the first time you’ve looked at me since—”

“you don’t have to say it” you cut him off, tone sharp and cold as you braced yourself for whatever he might say next.

his brows shot up in slight surprise but he just nodded his head as he stood up from his chair, brushing down his pants— coming to a halt at your side.

“what?”

“stand up,” he commanded, not giving you time to respond as he took long strides, disappearing from your view when he stepped outside, onto the porch.

your brows knitted together in confusion but you made no move to protest as you march towards the porch— finding him sitting down on the two-seater swing chair.

“sit” draco ordered as he patted down the space next to him.

a small breath was released from your lips as you placed yourself next to the blonde— the mere touch of his thigh against yours brought you back to earlier’s events from when he buried himself inside you until you had his load seeping out of you.

“are you gonna fire me?” the question blurted out before you could stop it and embarrassment washed over you as draco laughed to himself while shaking his head— as if he was listening to a joke from a five-year-old. git, you thought.

“no, princess. i’m not firing you” a pause “in a sense” he finished.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“well, i don’t want you to work for me anymore—” a loud whine from you cut his sentence short. “listen— listen, please” he started before you started to give him any phoney excuses.

“i don’t want you to work for me. i want you with me.”

silence.

draco was met with silence as he observed your flabbergasted features while you processed his words.

“huh?”

he sighed. “i’ve liked for far way too long y/n. and if you’ll have me— i want to be yours, i want you to be mine”

by this point, his forehead was connected to yours, your warm face in his large palms as his breath fanned on your lips.

“tell me that you want me too, say it. i want to hear you say it” he growled, mushing his lips to yours whilst his hands travelled down to your waist, thumping heart accelerating when he manhandled you against his lap.

“i want you” you mewled, rolling your hips towards his growing bulge as you kissed him fiercely. his hands ran over every curve of your body, settling on your skirt-covered bum.

“you want me baby? want me to fuck you again until i’m deep inside your pretty little guts?” he taunted and you had to bite down on your tongue to not release a moan at his words alone. a choked out “yes” managed to slip past your lips and that was all the confirmation draco needed before he was chanting a spell that undressed you both.

he took a moment to stare at your blissful form, watching your slightly shuddering as the night’s cool air hit your weeping cunt. the moonlight reflecting on your soft skin only highlighting the glistening hole even more.

his prick stood tall and proud as he toyed with your clit with one hand, the other cradling the back of your head as your tongues danced together.

the scenario seemed almost out of a romantic movie— with the way draco slowly eased himself inside you, shushing you softly as a particularly loud cry escaped you, even though it didn’t matter, scorpius was deep in sleep by now.

your hips slowly heaved up and down on him, the sensitive bundle of nerves hitting his pubic bone every time you came down, shooting fireworks throughout your body.

his muscled arms were tight around your waist, holding you in place as you gazed fixedly into the other’s eyes, forehead against forehead, hot breath over hot breath.

“you like having this cunt stuffed full of my cock, don’t you, my love? you like having me poking out of you, yeah?” it was then that you looked down to see that indeed, your stomach’s smooth skin was slightly pushed out, the outline of his cock as clear as day.

“yes! it feels so good, dray” you gasped out, increasing your moves slightly as his hips rutted upwards into you. tears brimmed at your waterline as he smoothed a hand over your dishevelled hair, lewd sounds being heard from where the two of you connected.

the familiar feeling didn’t take too long to appear, given the fact that you were still sensitive from the prior incidents this same evening.

your arousal dripped down on the swinging chair as draco attached his mouth to your neck, instinctively finding your sweet spot and sucking as one of his hands palmed at your breast.

“oh! i’m gonna cum” you sobbed, grinding faster on his twitching cock until your toes curled and the orgasm struck you without warning. trembled gasps coming out of the both of you as he shot his load inside you for the second time that day.

a calming quietness enveloped you and draco as you stayed in his arms, his softening cock still stuffed inside your puffy pussy, not entirely aware of draco’s soft praises against the shell of your ear.

———

🏷: @spencervera @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @turn-to-page-394-please @fredshufflepuff @malfoysbiitch @saggyb1lls @selenesheart @metaraxia @daddybutmakeitagirl @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @fleursbabe @riddleswh0r3crux @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @steveharringtonswhore @dracosafety @dracoscum @riddleswh0rekrux @laceycallisto @slytherinbabess @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @s1ater @marauderswh0re1 @starless-starkov @black-rose-29 @tattooedkermit @purpleskymalfoy @emma67 @mypainistemporary @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @lissa-duh @paniicing @rav3nclawwhore @fizzleberries @malfoy-girl @alohastitch0626 @caosfanblr @memorycharm @whoreforgeorgeandfred @abbott27 @harrystellastyles @lxstfullxve @starstruckgranger @elizabethrosedarling

[check your privacy settings if i wasn’t able to tag you]

#draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy series

1K notes · View notes

paperpocalypse · 4 years

Text

family outing.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”: 29. Tucking their hair behind their ear to help them get it out of their face.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 1,436 words

Warning: Mild swearing

[A/N: Mild S2 spoilers!]

“So,” Vanya’s brow furrows, “Five met you after the apocalypse?”

“Yep.” Leaning against her car, you cross your arms and sigh dreamily. “Hate at first sight. He almost shot me in the head.”

“… With a gun?”

You grin. “Well, he couldn’t’ve shot me with a Twinkie.”

Vanya looks ahead at where Five is talking to some middle-aged guy, his expression friendly and polite. What a businessman. Her eyes narrow in shocked disbelief. “This is crazy,” she murmurs. “My family is crazy.”

Your grin widens as she shakes her head. Something about her mannerisms helps you realize why Five is so fond of her, though he’s never said it outright. She’s definitely your favorite of the bunch. Sans murderous intent.

“Some types of crazy can be good,” you reply, nudging her arm. “But your family’s got all of them and it’s gonna get real messy. Time to spice up your little farm life, Vanya.”

She chuckles a little awkwardly and shrugs. “I just hope I’ll have time to talk to them. Again, I mean. Maybe I’ll remember something when we’re all together.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Noticing Five bidding farewell to the man, you push yourself off the bumper and wave at him. “Any luck, Five?”

He points down the street behind you as he walks back over. “Plano Street Rooming House for Solitary Men,” he answers. “It’s just a few blocks from here.”

“How do you know he’s there?” Vanya asks.

“I really doubt Luther would live anywhere else.”

You snort, raising your hands in surrender when Five returns it with a semi-faux withering look. With a sigh, he shakes his head and opens the rear passenger door, gesturing for you to get in.

As Vanya starts the car and turns into the street, you look through the rearview mirror at Five as he tells her where to go. Despite being stuck in a thirteen-year-old body, he still has that resting glower of his that makes him look perpetually stressed.

(Of course, it’s not just a matter of looking stressed – he is definitely stressed. Wound up tighter than a spring. You’ll probably need to force him to sit down and relax for at least a half-hour tonight before he explodes.)

His hair is a little disheveled, so you reach over to brush it out of his eyes. It doesn’t really work, but just going through the familiar motion grounds you somehow. “You know,” you muse as Five glances back at you, “Luther’s probably living there, but I doubt he’ll be in right now. He’s probably with Ruby somewhere.”

“Even if he is, we can ask around. I assume that at least one person there knows his business.”

He absently lifts a hand to smooth his hair back, and you smile. “Good point.”

—

“Hello, do you know Luther Hargreeves by any chance?”

After some door-to-door work, someone from Luther’s hall finally answers your knock. He’s a burly man, though not nearly as big as Luther, and obviously drunk off his rocker. Definitely solitary. He squints at the three of you through red, puffy eyes.

“Luther? Yeahhh, I know ‘im. Huge bloke. Real hairy.”

“That’s the one,” Five confirms. “You see, we’re his brother and sister. He hasn’t visited home lately and we’re pretty worried, so we’re just wondering if you know where he is.”

Burly picks at his teeth. “Brother n’ sister, eh? Well,” he rumbles, “I dunno where he is, but I know some of the boys are gonna watch ‘im fight tonight.”

“Where’s the fight?” Vanya asks.

The man regards her with suspicion. “Well, it ain’t a place for a little lady like you.” He swirls his beer around in its bottle, then jabs a finger at all of you. “Don’t want you three squealing to the cops, either.”

“We won’t,” you assure him, smiling sweetly. “We just want to check on Luther.”

With a little more cajoling, you finally obtain the time and place for Luther’s fight before the man waves you away with a grunt, slamming his door shut. You give your companions a self-satisfied grin before descending the staircase back down to street level. Worked like a charm. (You suspect your youthful looks probably helped a lot, though.)

“How’d you do that?” Vanya wonders as the three of you step out onto the sidewalk.

“Simple,” you respond. “I have a knack for sweeping tough guys off their feet.”

You wink secretly at Five. He rolls his eyes, the minutest of smiles at the corner of his mouth, before ushering you and Vanya back to the Chevy.

Your little trio spends the next few hours driving and poking around, looking for Luther or Klaus or Allison. The optimist in you hopes you’ll run across at least one of them. But Dallas is a big place, and darkness begins to fall around 5:30 without a single sighting.

“Dammit.” Five clicks his tongue as you exit a paint shop alone.

“At least we know where Luther will be,” you point out, shoving your hands in your pockets. “How about we get something to eat before we head to the fight?”

Vanya unlocks the car. “There’s a place I know close by,” she says, lips quirking up. “They have sandwiches and donuts there.”

You pat her back. “Sounds great, Vanya. Five? You’ve got to eat something, too.”

Your favorite number crosses his arms as you and Vanya stare at him expectantly. “We’ll get something quick,” he eventually says.

The trip only takes a few minutes. The three of you get sandwiches and a donut each and unwrap them on the bench outside the bakery.

“Sissy and Harlan and I get something from here whenever we go into town,” Vanya says, finishing the last of her sandwich and picking her donut up. “It’s pretty good.”

“So good,” you agree. Lands alive, sitting out here like this makes you nostalgic. Ignoring the upcoming doomsday and the ‘60′s aesthetic, it feels like you’re back in 1927 again, staying out past curfew with your peers. You smile to yourself and look down at your half-finished maple bar. Best to enjoy it while it lasts.

A finger quickly sweeps your brow, tucking a lock of hair out of your face. You blink and glance over at Five, but he’s looking across the street and starting on his own pastry. (Apple fritter. Perhaps you’ll ask him one day why he always gets those.)

Heart feeling even softer than before, you lean silently against his side. He doesn’t move.

After a moment, Five speaks up. “When we were kids, I brought you to this donut shop near the academy a couple times.”

“You did?” Vanya asks.

“Yeah. Griddy’s.” Oh, the one near the academy. The one that had gotten destroyed along with everything else in 2019. He gestures at the last bit of donut – plain, glazed – in her hands. “You usually got that kind.”

She raises her eyebrows, looking into her napkin. “Oh, wow. I guess it must’ve been a subconscious choice or something, then.”

“Hm.”

“You know, I’m glad we found you, Vanya,” you offer warmly. “I didn’t … really have time to get to know you the last time we met.”

A smile spreads across her face. “Same here. For both things, I mean. Not that I’d know much about our first meeting.” She pauses, examining you for a second, then blurts, “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

She awkwardly motions between you and her brother. “Are you and Five …?”

“Partners,” you finish, “in every sense of the word. From what I know, at least.” With a grin, you turn to Five. “Is that more or less right?”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Unfortunately,” he mutters as you move to smooth his hair back again. He sure had lovely hair when he was a kid – not that you didn’t appreciate his looks back in your Commission days. This de-aging thing really knocks you for a loop sometimes.

Vanya nods, still looking vaguely confused. “Okay. I don’t want to make things weird, I just – well, you two are kind of … young –”

“Believe me, we’re much older than we look,” you quip, standing up. “But that’s a tale for another time. We gotta go.”

Disposing of your trash, you join the others into the Chevy and start your next journey to Luther Hargreeves. Radio turned off, the leather seat squeaks as you lean back and listen to Vanya and Five murmuring in the front.

To see the siblings together again makes you glow inside, a bit of calm before the inevitable storm. You drink it in as much as you can.

1K notes · View notes

aworldinsideaperson · 3 years

Text

A Well Kept Secret - George Weasley (Part One)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Food mentions, talking about food, one night stand (no smut) having a child, getting pregnant, being pregnant,

Summary: A one night stand with George produces a child and a secret.

Trope Series: Secret baby.

A/N: This one is going to be in two parts (possibly three we will have to see) but I just started writing this last night and couldn’t stop so here it is.

@izzytheninja @youto-believein

It was a chilly evening in the Fall of 1997 when it all started, two lifelong friends meet in a London pub for a drink or two to take the edge off of their worries and fears as war wages around them. A red haired man sat beside a girl He’d known for the last nine years, they were nearly three drinks deep as their fingers brushed. With a soft intake of breath they looked to each other, her eyes wide as she stared up at him; his eyes had trained on hers as his tongue slid over his lips then dropped to her parted lips. That’s when he knew it was over and his life would never be the same. Little did he know how one night of pure bliss with his schoolyard crush would change both their lives in the ways that it did.

It was only one night. It was only supposed to be one night no matter the feeling that had arisen as they kissed on her bed that night and whispered “I love you” in the dark. The world was far too dangerous to start anything more than that one night and so they kept it at that though it was hardly a surprise to anyone when their glances to each other were lingering or their goodbyes just a touch too long. It was eight weeks before Y/N realized something was off.

The missed period. That’s what did it for her. The most obvious of symptoms but now as she looked down at the stick waiting for an answer things fell into place. She was sick to her stomach so often her diet consisted mostly of crackers the last week, she was exhausted though she had chalked it up to the stress of the current situations the suddenness of it started to make sense. Her mind ran through a checklist of symptoms her mother had claimed during her second pregnancy and with each check mark left her mind became more certain and as the timer went off and her eyes focused on the results she wasn’t as shocked as she should have been.

She was having George Weasley’s baby.

With a hand pressed to her stomach her mind raced. The Weasley family were targets, and England wasn’t safe. So with a single letter owled to her parents Y/N was packing her bags and was off to the states.

She settled into a small town in Missouri. Hermann, population now 2,401 with one on the way. With her life’s savings she paid cash from a tiny shack of a house in the center of town and tried to live her muggle life. At only 19 she was receiving dirty and pitying looks alike as he stomach started to grow beneath her waitress uniform.

At 29 weeks pregnant she received the news, a letter from her parents proclaiming the fall of Voldemort and the end of the war, they begged her to come home. As she looked down at her swollen stomach she hesitated and wrote them a single word response. No.

She had planned to return to London, her home for her whole life, but fear continued to stop her. Voldemort was gone, the Weasley family had lived, George had lived, her family was safe, but the thought of showing up so many months later after no words to George frightened her beyond any unforgivable curse. And so she did it alone. She gave birth to their son alone. She held a first birthday alone, and then a second, and a third all alone. Each year as his birthday drew to a close Y/N wondered if she should write to George, if she should tell him of their son, tell him about his big brown eyes and thick red hair; to tell him of all the mischief their three year old caused. And every year she remembered that it was meant to only be one night. The night had been filled with passion and confessions of love but she not only had to worry about rejection for herself but for the small boy that crawled into her bed when the wind was too loud and begged for just one more bedtime story before she turned out the light. He thought his father was gone, that he had loved him and wanted him but that now he was gone. She couldn’t put her son in a position to be rejected. Not by his own father.

And so she stayed. She stayed away from England, away from her family, away from George. Until an owl arrived on her doorstep 2 weeks after Graysen’s third birthday, an envelope at its feet. With a sigh she took the envelope inside and tore into it, inside was an invitation to her sister’s wedding. It read...

Please join us for the wedding of Alexa & Dawson

The First of September, 2001 at six o’clock in the evening

Dawson’s Family Home

Painswick England

Reception to Follow

Also inside the envelope was a letter, a plea from Alexa to come home, to “Bring Graysen and come home. Just a few weeks. Be my maid of honor and let me meet my nephew.” And so, filled with guilt, Y/N booked the plane tickets and a week later the two of them flew to London.

**********

Leaving the safety of the home she had built made Y/N’s blood run cold, on edge every time she left her parents house, every flash of red hair was a Weasley in her mind and every time it wasn’t she’d breathe a sigh of relief. Until the day the air caught in her lungs as a tall red haired man spotted her across the street. Identical to the one that played in her mind all the time.

He raced across the street and threw his arms around her, barely taking notice of the small red haired boy holding tightly to her hand. “Y/N!” He exclaimed. “How long has it been?”

Y/N used her free hand to pat him on the back. “Almost four years, it’s good to see you Freddie.” She pulled away, her eyes darting to her son, standing at her feet looking up at the man with curiosity. It was then that Fred looked down too and in that moment he realized her long kept secret and she knew it.

“And who’s this?” His voice tentative as he looked between her and the boy.

“This is Graysen.” She smiled and crouched down beside him, the two of them now looking up at Fred. “Graysen, this is one of Mummy’s friends from school, can you say hello to Fred?”

With a glint in his eyes a grin spread across his face. “Hello Fred!”

Fred now too crouched down to a closer height. “Well hello to you too Graysen,” Fred held out his hand and Graysen grabbed it. “How old are you?”

Graysen smiled and jumped up and down. “I just turned three in July!”

Fred faked a shocked face. “Three in July? You’re awfully big for three.”

“Mommy said I got it from my Daddy.”

Fred mumbled under his breath. “I bet you did.”

Y/N gave him a smile and picked Graysen up. “Well we best get going, I have to pick up my dress for Alexa’s wedding, it’s in two weeks.”

Fred nodded. “Right, well I’ll let you get back to your errands, but only if you agree to come to dinner at the Burrow tonight. You spent so much time at our house during breaks Mum will be thrilled to see you.”

“Oh Fred I don’t know I wouldn’t want to impose.” She said, shaking her head vigorously.

“You wouldn’t be, you’re invited. Please come, bring Graysen and your partner.” He insisted, looking to the little boy.

Her voice became small, “Actually it’s just Gray and I.”

“All the more reason to come then.” He was certainly persistent on the matter.

Y/N smiled softly at him, “You’re not going to accept no are you?”

He shook his head, “Not this time.”

“I’ll be there, six as usual?”

“Mum does like to keep a tight meal schedule these days.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Perfect.” With that the two parted ways and Y/N regretted coming home.

**********

Fred strolled into the shop, two paper bags in hand, each filled with food from their favorite muggle dinner in London. Walking up to his brother and setting the food on the counter Fred narrowed his eyes at his brother. “George?” He began, “You remember like 4 years ago, there was a night you didn’t come home?”

George turned from his brother as the corners of his lips turned up at the memory.“Yeah, why?”

“Where were you?”

George rolled his eyes and sighed. “I told you before, I’m not telling you, I was safe that’s what matters.”

Fred rolled his eyes too and mumbled under his breath. “I don’t know if you were as safe as you could have been.”

George turned to him in confusion “What do you mean?”

Fred shook his head. “Nothing, just make sure you’re ready to go by six, you know mum doesn’t like us being late.”

**********

At half past five Y/N sat in front of her parents' empty fireplace, Graysen playing on the floor in front of her as a million thoughts raced through her mind, how could she have said yes? How could she have agreed to dinner with the family of her son, a boy they didn’t know existed, that they didn’t know was theirs. She had considered leaving him with her parents but Fred has specifically invited the two of them and so as the clock struck quarter to six she wrapped Graysen up in her arms and the two of them apparated to the Burrow. Placing Graysen on the ground and holding tightly to his hand Y/N knocked on the front door three times.

When the door swung open Molly Weasley stood on the other side, face bright and smiling and she pulled Y/N in for a hug and ushered her into the home.

It was as bright and warm as it had always been, filled with noise and people.

“Who’s this?” Molly asked smiling down at Graysen looking around the magical house in wonder.

“This is Graysen, my son.”

Molly looked at her with wide eyes, “Your son?”

“Yes, he’s why I left the county.”

Molly gave her a smile and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing dear, it wasn’t safe.”

“I know, but I should have come back sooner.” Her voice was soft and filled with sadness.

“What’s done is done, now come, we’re all sitting down to dinner.”

Walking into the kitchen felt so normal, she’d taken so many meals here in her youth it felt so natural to take the seat she’d always held, right beside George, though his seat seemed to be empty.

The table filled, Aruther and Molly at the heads, Ginny and Harry, Hermione and Ron, Bill, Fleur, even Percy and his wife had joined the fray tonight but the twin’s seats still remained empty at six oh one when there was a loud crack and the two cackling gingers appeared.

“Sorry we’re late mum, one last customer and all that, you know how it is.” Fred smiled as their laughter died down and they looked to the table.

When their eyes locked the room went silent. Y/N and George just stared at each other, until Graysen pulled on her arm for her attention. That’s when George looked to the small boy beside her and his heart soared then sank. Silently he went to his seat, the one beside Y/N, just as it has always been back when they were younger. Though this time they stayed nearly silent as they filled their plates and ate, Y/N keeping a close eye on the boy next to her as he fed himself small spoonfuls of the concoction he’d made of his plate.

“So Y/N,” Fred spoke. “You introduce Georgie to your son?”

Y/N swallowed and shook her head. “George? This is my son Graysen.”

George leaned around her to get a good look at the boy, the red hair and the big brown eyes, there was no doubt that he was a Weasley. “Hello Graysen, it’s nice to meet you. I’m George.”

With a full spoon still in his mouth Graysen attempted a smile and waved his little hand in George’s direction. The normal conversation resumed and George turned to her and asked. “How old is he?”

“He just turned three.” She stated, her eyes trained closely on her plate.

“He seems like a sweet boy.”

“He is, he’s adorable and an absolute terror at times. His tantrums have been known to shake walls.”

Arthur chuckled, jumping into the conversation. “You know, the twins were like that too when they were young, thought they were going to bring the whole house down once or twice.”

Y/N smiled and stayed silent, the rest of dinner focused entirely on the food in front of her and keeping Gray’s mess contained to his plate. Dinner was cleared and everyone ushered themselves into the living room, Graysen and Victoire sat in the middle of the floor playing, everyone else sat around them on couches and chairs. It was all polite conversation until Fred turned to her with a mischievous smile, the same one his twin got, the same one that Graysen got, the one that indicated a terrible, terrible, idea.

“So Y/N,” Fred began, “Who’s Graysen’s dad?”

Y/N tried to smile but the panic was clear on her face. “Wow, right to the hard hitters.”

“Shouldn’t be a hard question.” His tone flat, no hint of laughter in his voice. And so the interrogation began.

“You don’t know him.”

“Is he a wizard?”

“Yes.”

“Come from a big family?”

“No just him and his one sibling.”

“A twin?”

“No.”

“Parents names?”

“Mark and Anna.”

“What happened to him?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Did he go to hogwarts with us?”

“Yes.”

“Gryffindor?”

“Yes.”

Fred paused his rapid fire and his eyebrows rose. “Really?”

That was when it dawned on her, she’d slipped. There were only four Gryffindor boys their year. Fred knew it wasn’t him, and there was only one other redhead. “Fuck.” Y/N stood up quickly, picking Graysen up in her arms as she walked swiftly toward the door. “I’ve gotta go.”

George stood up after her following the two of them to the door. “Y/N wait!” He shouted but without a second thought a crack filled the air and she was gone.

George stormed back into the room, his eyes full of rage. “I can’t believe you!” He yelled his anger directed at his twin as the rest shuffled from the room.

Fred huffed. “Why are you angry with me? I was just asking questions about his father.” A sly smirk on his face as he leaned back in his chair.

“Because you know it’s me and you pushed her anyway!” George grew more angry by the minute.

“I did that for you! Do you really think she was going to tell you when she’s kept it from you this long already? No!” Fred now stood, face to face with his twin.

George choked on his words, clenching and releasing his fists as he tried not to attack the man before him. After a moment, his breathing calmed and his voice steadied. “That’s not a decision you get to make for her or for me. Now I have to go fix this and I’ll be lucky if she lets me in.” And with that George turned and walked out the door.

#Tw: food #tw: food mention #tw pregnancy #tw children #tw one night stand #george weasley #george weasley imagine #Harry Potter series #harry Potter series imagine #george weasley x reader

234 notes · View notes

erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

Enemies Closer

MASTERLIST

Happy smutty Spencer Saturday! This fic has been hidden in the depths of my brain for way too long. I knew I wanted to do an enemies to lover fic for a while but didn’t have much more for it until recently. The title comes from the famous saying “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”.

I want to say a big thank you to all of my followers who sent in quips, jabs and bantery remarks. I tried to use them all because they were all so wonderful. Thank you to @dreatine @andiebeaword @sammy-jo1977 @redbullchick and the numerous anons who contributed. Also a big thank you to @multifandommandy for coming up with the idea of the reader interviewing the little girl, it really helped move the story along and add to it. I appreciate all your ideas and help 💕

Okay, enjoy the 10k words of sassy, smutty Spencer Reid. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 10,088

Spencer was walking back to his desk when he heard JJ’s voice.

“Really? When?”

There was a pause on her end of the phone conversation. She looked up and saw Spencer, immediately waving him over.

Spencer’s interest was piqued. He wondered what was going on, especially since there was a huge grin on her face. He approached her desk just as JJ spoke again.

“That sounds great, mom. I can’t wait.”

Spencer smiled. JJ and her mom were extremely close and he always looked forward to her visits—she made the best triple chocolate chip cookies he’d ever tasted. He opened his mouth to tell her to say hi from him, when she practically read his mind.

“By the way Spencer says hi.”

JJ shot him a wink, grinning at the fact that she knew him well enough to know exactly what he was about to say. He chuckled to himself. They definitely were close enough to know what one another was thinking.

“Sounds good. See you then. Bye.”

JJ hung up her phone, turning in her chair to face him fully.

“Is your mom coming to visit?”

“She is,” JJ smiled, “And she’s bringing your favorite triple chocolate chip cookies.”

“Bless that woman,” he chuckled.

“There’s also something else,” JJ trailed off nervously, a flicker of worry in her blue eyes.

“What?”

“Y/N’s visiting too...and she’s kinda stuck with me, or well us for the next week. So if we get a case, she’s coming with us.”

Spencer groaned loudly.

“Why?”

“Mom has a business seminar in downtown D.C. and you know Will took the boys to Disney World this week. I’m not going to make her sit at home alone for a week.”

“Why? It would be for the greater good of humanity. I’ll even be willing to chip in for a hotel room for her,” Spencer said, hoping JJ would actually take him up on the offer, “Particularly one across the country.”

“Spencer,” JJ eyed him warily, “Emily already said it was okay. She knows to stay out of the way while we work.”

“Yet she’s always in my way.”

“Spence, she’s not that bad. Why do you hate her so much?” she asked.

“Last time she visited she “accidentally” spilled an entire pot of coffee on my favorite work shirt!” Spencer protested.

“Just like you “accidentally” locked her in an interrogation room?” JJ raised a brow.

Yeah, that hadn’t been his finest moment. But she had driven him crazy that day.

“She wandered in there on her own. I was just helping the situation along,” he shrugged innocently.

“You’re lucky she didn’t burn the building down,” JJ mumbled.

“Yeah, well, she pushed me to my limit that day. Sorry.”

“What is it with you two? You fight worse than her and I ever did.”

“She’s annoying, rude and drives me crazy. I honestly can’t believe she’s your sister, let alone related to you. JJ, you know I love you, but I just can’t stand her. We’re just two completely different people that probably will never get along.”

“Alright, alright,” JJ held her hands up in defeat, “At least try to be on your best behavior?”

“No promises,” he grumbled.

“Hey, look at it this way. At least you get cookies,” she stood, patting his arm before walking away.

He was positive even cookies wouldn’t make up for this.

•

“Y/N while you’re here, can you please try to be nice to your sister’s coworkers?”

You suppressed a groan.

You were currently in the elevator with your mother at the FBI in Quantico, riding up the numerous floors to the Behavioral Analysis Unit, where your sister JJ worked. In your arms were a stack of containers, filled with sweets your mom had made for the team.

There were her famous triple chocolate chip cookies made with milk, dark and white chocolate chips, some apple cobbler, cupcakes and even a strawberry pie. JJ’s team were suckers for Sandy Jareau’s delicacies.

“Mom, I love the team. They’re like extended family, you know that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Your mom gave you a look that you swore only mothers could perfect. It was partly calling out your bullshit and part disciplinary all at the same time. It was amazing, really, 29 years old and you were still getting the “you better not act out” look from her. What were you, eight?

“I mean that lovely Dr. Reid. You’re always so mean to him.”

“He starts it.”

Okay, maybe you were eight.

“Y/N.”

The warning tone in her voice was all you needed to keep your mouth shut.

“All I’m saying is I don’t want another call from JJ saying you’ve gotten locked in an interrogation room and almost got arrested for assaulting a FBI agent.”

“Okay that was one time!” you said, exasperated, “Granted, it wasn’t my finest hour. But still. It’s not like I’m that bad all the time.”

“Really?” your mom looked at you, all knowingly, “What about that one time at JJ’s housewarming party?”

“I swear I didn’t glue his shoes to the floor!”

In your defense, that had been Derek Morgan, back when he was still working in the FBI, prior to his resignation. Of course though, no one believed that he had done it, apparently including your mother.

“Whether you did it or not, that’s not the point. You would’ve done it given the opportunity.”

You couldn’t deny that.

“Just don’t stress JJ out any more than she is. She said when the two of you are fighting it’s like trying to corral two feisty chihuahuas.”

You sighed, defeated.

“I’ll try to be on my best behavior mom.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you’d arrived at your designated floor and the metal doors slid open to reveal your sister and of course, Spencer.

Spencer Reid, the biggest nemesis of your entire life.

He was absolutely infuriating.

Tall, imposing, three PhDs, IQ of 187, Doctor Spencer Reid. That’s right, he wasn’t just Agent Reid, he was Dr. Reid. It was eye roll inducing.

He was a know-it-all, quite literally. If anyone said something even the slightest bit wrong, he didn’t hesitate to correct them. A person could breathe wrong and he’d probably correct that.

He constantly spewed facts. That was annoying enough in itself. You had no idea how JJ put up with it. But then again she was best friends with the guy. That blew your mind enough in itself.

If he wasn’t so annoying, he might actually be attractive. With a stature of over six feet, he was lean but without being a beanpole. His light brown curls always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and/or never taken a brush to his hair. His eyes were definitely interesting though. You could never tell if they were brown, green or maybe even hazel.

Not that you’d been paying that close of attention. Nor did you care.

He had significantly more facial hair than the last time you’d seen him. Not a bad look for him, you had to give him that.

JJ once told you that a college class he’d taught for two weeks was filled with nothing but young girls auditing his course. She said it had confused Spencer. It confused you too cause you didn’t see how he was that attractive. He was kinda cute, if you liked the whole snobby, genius who doesn’t brush his hair, smartass type.

Oddly enough, you’d known him for half your life, yet couldn’t recall how or when you started hating him. It just seems like it had been that way all along, when in fact, it hadn’t.

“Mom! Y/N!” JJ exclaimed, grinning wide.

You felt a burst of happiness in your chest. You’d missed your sister. Despite the 11 year age difference, you guys were close growing up.

You were still a baby when your older sister Rosalyn had committed suicide, so you didn’t remember much about her, sadly. It was really hard on JJ as she was the one to find her. But as she’d told you much later, you’d helped her grieve. Reliving memories and keeping Rosalyn’s memory alive in sharing stories with you helped her heal after such a traumatic situation. It was often that you’d wished you’d had the chance to know your oldest sister, but with her death came an impenetrable close bond between you and JJ.

JJ immediately wrapped her arms around your mother, hugging her tight. You gave a nod of your head, your arms too full to be able to hug her at the moment.

“I’ll just go put these in the briefing room,” you said.

You turned, aiming to head through the glass doors of the BAU’s entrance, but instead ran right into Spencer.

“Here, I got it,” he took several of the boxes out of your arms so you could see properly again, “If only to save you from injuring anyone else.”

“My knight in shining armor,” you muttered sarcastically.

“Watch where you’re going next time.”

“You watch where you’re going. Besides, I didn’t need your help,” you retorted.

“Obviously, you did,” Spencer mumbled, following you through the doors.

You hadn’t even made it all the way through the entrance when you heard your mom and JJ sigh in unison. You heard JJ’s words loud and clear, as well.

“They’re already bickering less than five minutes in. Must be a new record.”

It kinda was. Usually, the two of you managed to avoid each other until the inevitable crossing of paths occurred. Today, though, you both had started in, right off the bat.

You placed the numerous arrays of desserts on the round table, knowing by tomorrow they’d pretty much all be gone.

“You’re welcome for the help,” Spencer snarked, setting down the few containers he’d carried.

You couldn’t help it, you rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t ask for it. So there’s no reason to thank you.”

“It’s the polite thing to do. Oh, wait. I forgot you don’t know how to be polite. My bad.”

You glared at him, the hatred stirring in your gut.

“I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure to see you again, Y/N, but it hasn’t,” Spencer said.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go greet your mother who actually deserves and appreciates my kindness.”

“Kindness, my ass,” you muttered as he walked away.

He turned, almost to the door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you smiled in a fake, sweet matter.

He scoffed, turning and walking away.

Only when his back was turned did your fake demeanor drop and you stuck your tongue out at him.

This man would be the death of you yet.

•

“Penelope just got us a case. Luckily, it’s right here in our backyard so you can just sit in while we work. But please try to control your mouth.”

“JJ, I’m almost 30 years old,” you replied.

“Yes, but you still have a sharp tongue.”

“I promise not to make a scene, cause any trouble or be in the way. I know you have to work Jayj.”

After a round of greetings and hugs from the team and promises to stay longer when she returned from her business seminar, your mom had dashed off, leaving you at the BAU.

You looked up to see Emily Prentiss, JJ’s friend and boss motioning for her to join them in the briefing room.

“The team has to be debriefed about this case. Are you going to be okay here?”

You spun back and forth in her desk chair, motioning to the book you’d brought to read.

“I’ll be fine. Go work,” you shooed her.

JJ bounded off and up the stairs to the meeting and you picked up your book, ready to be entranced by the wonderful fantasy world of your book, far away from your reality.

“Why do people read that garbage? It does nothing but fills a person’s head with nonsense. It’s stupid and a waste of time. Although, now that I think of it, that’s probably a perfect fit for you.”

You peered up over the edge of your book.

You’d just gotten to a good part in your book. Your heroine was just getting ready to destroy the enemy and his lair, saving her love interest from the clutches of evil. It was a shame you couldn’t throw Spencer in the cage that your heroine was saving her lover from. Now that would make the book perfect.

“I’m reading. If you don’t mind.”

“Well it offends me. At least read something good. War and Peace is a good recommendation. Good story. I read it at breakfast last weekend,” Spencer said.

You turned up your nose. Leave it to Spencer to brag about his ability to read 20,000 words a minute and offer atrocious book recommendations in the same sentence. That in itself was offensive enough to you.

“This is why you don’t get dates, isn’t it?” you snipped.

He ignored the quip.

“I’m supposed to ask you for help with the case.”

Now this was interesting. You raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think I want to help you?”

“You do realize the entire world doesn’t revolve around you, right?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed, “There’s kids that are going missing.”

That sobered you quickly. You dropped any anger you had at him, for the moment, realizing how serious the matter was.

“How? What’s happening?”

“Four kids have gone missing. We can’t figure out how or why. They haven’t shown up yet, so we’re hopeful that they’re still alive,” Spencer said, lips narrowed into a thin line.

“What do you need my help for then?”

“Because to understand what happened to them, we need to profile these kids.”

•

“Okay so we know from his parents, six year old Erik Yates was incredibly shy,” JJ said, looking at the whiteboard where the pictures of the four missing children were hung.

“He wouldn’t have talked to his own school teacher, let alone a stranger,” David Rossi said.

“But his best friend, Carlos Hoffman also went missing with him. They were having a sleepover, so he’d been at Erik’s house,” Emily added.

“And Carlos was the more outgoing of the two, wasn’t he?” you asked.

“Yup,” Tara said, flipping through her notes, “According to the parents, wherever Carlos went Erik was always close behind. So if they encountered a stranger, if Carlos was willing to go, Erik would likely follow.”

“I don’t know about that,” you piped in, “I’ve seen friendships like that in my class. Even if the kid is quiet, if they know something is wrong, they either say something to their friend or they just don’t do it period. I find it hard to believe that Erik would go along with someone he wasn’t comfortable with.”

“Says the one that’s not a profiler,” Spencer mumbled from where he was standing, examining the evidence board.

JJ shot him a look, before returning to the conversation. You pretended not to hear that one and for once, bit your tongue. You wouldn’t accomplish anything by arguing with Spencer at the moment.

“So let’s go back to the top,” Matt said, “Mrs. Yates went to the door and there was someone there either selling something or had an excuse made up for the unsub to guilt trip money out of her. She leaves to get her purse. The kids are in the living room playing. Then suddenly, by the time she gets back, all three are gone.”

“That’s how her story goes,” Luke said, looking through interview notes.

“What about the other children?” you asked, “How were they taken?”

“One was kidnapped at the park, the other at the grocery store,” Spencer answered.

“What if it’s someone familiar with their routines?” you asked.

You weren’t anywhere close to being a profiler, but you knew enough from JJ to sort of get by in this conversation.

“A lot of my kids and their families have strict routines. Usually because it benefits the child and/or they have other children that they keep on a schedule too. Wouldn’t that mean that it’s someone that they know?”

“It could,” Emily said, “But unfortunately that doesn’t narrow down much because the unsub could also just be stalking these families before the kidnapping. The unsub could potentially be a complete stranger to them.”

“Have you asked the parents of the children if they could think of anyone who could do this? Is there anyone that might overlap with these families?” you inquired.

JJ had opened her mouth to answer you, but of course, Spencer had to add his two cents.

“Are you an idiot? Of course, we did,” Spencer snapped, “That’s always the first thing we do.”

You bristled. Even when working together, he couldn’t be civil. He had the nerve to try and insult you and make you feel stupid, even though all you were trying to do was help.

“I’m not an idiot, Spencer,” you grit out.

“Oh really? You sure do act like one sometimes,” he retorted, writing something on the board.

Your defenses snapped back into place and you were ready to shoot back a remark when JJ interrupted you.

“Hey, hey, you guys. Quit it before I have to send you both into separate corners for timeout. We’re all on the same team here, trying to accomplish the same thing. Let’s just focus.”

“Matt, Dave, JJ, I want you to go and reinterview the parents. Y/N has a point. We need to make absolutely sure there’s no one in these families lives that connect with one another,” Emily ordered.

“Luke, Tara; both of you go to the schools. See if there’s been any strangers lurking around. We can’t rule out a sexual predator just yet, but it would help vastly if we could.”

“Penelope, you and I are going to work on a deep dive of these families.”

Garcia’s face scrunched at Emily’s order; she hated diving into people’s personal lives, but unfortunately it sometimes came with the job.

“We’re going to make sure that these parents aren’t holding back any secrets that could possibly help us.”

Emily turned towards you and Spencer next.

“Spence, I want you to start on a geo profile, see if we can figure out the vicinity of the unsub’s hunting grounds. Maybe we might even be able to find where he’s holding them.”

“On it.”

Spencer was already grabbing a map, spreading it across the round table.

“Y/N, I want you to help him.”

Spencer’s head snapped up.

“Hell no. Emily please-”

She held up her hand.

“I don’t want to hear it. That’s an order. If you disobey, I will put you behind a desk for a month.”

He relented, but you could tell he wasn’t happy about it. Not like you were pleased at all by it either.

“Try not to burn the room down while you’re working,” she instructed, walking out to meet Garcia in her lair.

Once she left, Spencer spun towards you.

“Let’s get one thing clear. You’re not to bother me while I work. You stay out of my way. I don’t need your help, nor do I want it. I can do my work just fine without you. I’ve been doing it for 15 years,” he snapped.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Spencer. Even I can tell when your IQ gets slashed to 60.”

“That’s the best you got, Y/N? I didn’t realize they let bimbos into the FBI. Oh wait...that’s right. I’m the one that’s the actual agent here. What is it you do again?”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher. You know that, you dumbass or else I wouldn’t be here helping you.”

“Oh, guess there’s no sleeping to the top in that field. Although, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Your fists clenched. Spencer made you mad like no other could. Not even JJ could ever make you this mad.

“Just sit down and shut up while the adults work, okay?” he sneered at you.

“I’m not a child!”

You crossed your arms defensively. You weren’t about to let him get in all the insults. Ignoring him never worked, he was too obnoxious. So you just played it like he did, by slinging insults like dodgeballs at him.

“Well if you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like a child!” he threw back.

His eyes were blazing, his cheeks gone pink from his anger.

“Funny because you act more immature than my kindergartners.”

“WILL YOU TWO CAN IT AND GET TO WORK?!”

You both jumped at the sound of Garcia yelling from the bullpen. She made the motion that she’d be keeping her eyes on you two. You threw one more scowl Spencer’s way before flopping down on the sofa on the other side of the room.

This week was going to last an eternity.

•

Two days passed with no luck on finding an unsub, but they’d managed to put a profile together based on what little they did know.

The entire team was worried and on edge. Of course, that made the situation between you and Spencer even more volatile.

“Are you sure you’re an actual qualified agent? All you do is stand in front of a room full of police or your team and say smart things and gesture with your hands,” you mimicked Spencer, doing exactly what he was just doing earlier while they gave the profile.

“I do not look like that! You look like a baby dinosaur who doesn’t know how to walk,” he jeered.

“Yes, you do. All I’m saying is these civil service exams must be really easy to pass nowadays, huh?” you smirked.

“You know I’d ask if you could really be any more infuriating, but I’m afraid you’d take that as a challenge,” Spencer huffed, “Besides I’m supposed to be “nice” to you, since you’ve been so helpful.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you grinned mischievously, “I’ve been what?”

“I’m just quoting what Emily said. In my opinion you’ve been more like a pain in my ass,” he mumbled, looking through one of the case files.

“Oh sure because without me, would you’ve figured out that the unsub is a woman?”

“Probably. Don’t pat yourself on the back, sweetheart. You’re no match for us real profilers, Y/N.”

“I may not be, but you’ve met your match with me, pretty boy,” the nickname falling from your lips with deep sarcasm, “You can’t help but fight with me. For some reason I get under your skin and frankly, I enjoy it. It’s nice to know you can actually squirm, Spencer Reid.”

His lips pursed and he was about to speak when the phone rang. He answered it, putting it on speaker. Garcia’s excited voice came through it.

“Reid, gather the team. You won’t believe what I’ve found.”

•

“So it turns out, one of our families did have a secret. Although, it was something we weren’t even looking for,” Penelope said.

“What’s that Garcia?” Tara asked.

“The family of the first missing child: Daisy Rowe, had a nanny once. Her name is Kali Dye.”

Garcia hit the remote button to pull up the woman’s picture on the big screen at the front of the room.

“What does she have to do with our case?” Luke asked.

She stared at him, exasperated.

“If I could finish what I was saying, you’d know,” Penelope griped.

“Okay, okay,” Luke chuckled, “Carry on.”

You lived for Luke and Penelope’s playful banter. It was like the complete opposite of you and Spencer. They liked each other at the end of the day—not to mention everyone knew deep down they were definitely attracted to one another. Their banter was flirty. Yours and Spencer’s was anything but.

“As I was saying,” Penelope continued, “Kali was the nanny to the Rowe family back in 2016 when Daisy was only two years old. There was an incident where apparently she turned her back on little Daisy playing in the backyard. Daisy got too near the pool and almost drowned. She was in the hospital for a few days afterwards. The parents were obviously furious. I’m guessing Mrs. Rowe told all her friends about it because according to my research, Kali’s nannying career was basically ruined.”

“So you think this is an act of revenge? Did she nanny for any of the other kids she kidnapped?” Emily asked.

“No, that’s where it gets weird. She seems to have no connection to these other children,” Garcia said.

“Well we know who our unsub most likely is,” JJ said, “But how are we going to find out where she and the kids are?”

“I checked for that. There’s no significant places that she would take them, her old family house isn’t even in the state and besides it’s been sold years ago,” Penelope answered.

Emily’s phone rang as the team continued to throw around ideas of where to find Kali.

“Prentiss.”

You watched Emily’s face quickly change expressions, from neutral to shock, to worry, back to businesslike.

“Okay, bring her to Quantico. We’ll need to interview her.”

Emily hung up, turning to the team.

“The second child kidnapped, Eden Jenson just showed up at a police station in D.C. She managed to get away and ran for help. We need to interview her, but she hasn’t spoken yet. The chief of the police station is having one of his detectives drive here so we can interview her,” Emily filled the rest of the team in.

“I’ll talk to her. I’m pretty good at getting kids to talk,” Spencer said.

“Actually, I think we should let Y/N do it,” JJ said, looking at Emily.

“What?! She has no experience interviewing a witness, much less a victim!” Spencer exclaimed.

“I worked in art therapy when I was getting my degree as a teacher. I still use some in my class, plus I’m a teacher,” you said defiantly, “I know how to talk to kids.”

“I agree with JJ,” Emily said, “But Spencer, sit in with her just in case you need to intervene.”

You were sure he was going to do plenty of that.

•

An hour later, you and Spencer were sitting in front of a little, terrified Eden. Her—what you assumed were once neat—blonde pigtails were in all types of disarray. Pieces stood up everywhere while other strands came loose, hanging around her face. She was clutching her bunny stuffie, which you figured had been with her when she was kidnapped.

She had refused to talk to anyone, shrinking away frightfully at any imposing adults. You had to restrain yourself from literally pushing Spencer out the door when she shrunk even more into herself when she saw Spencer’s tall frame.

She’d been previously asked if she was hungry or thirsty in which she barely nodded. Now, she sat a bit less rigidly as she ate her Goldfish crackers and sipped on her juice box.

“Eden, my name is Y/N and this is my…friend, Spencer.”

You had to admit, you had a rough time getting that one out.

“We just want to talk to you, okay?” you said.

The little girl just stared back at you, wide eyed.

“Do you like to color?” you asked.

Still no response.

You pulled out some paper and a pack of crayons from a bin next to the desk. You pushed them across towards her.

“Could you draw something for us?”

It took a moment of Eden staring at the items before she opened the box and picked up a crayon.

“Do you mind if we ask you some questions while you color?”

You didn’t expect an answer, so you weren’t surprised when none came.

“Are you six years old? Six is a fun age. Are you in kindergarten or first grade?”

Eden looked up at you, from underneath her lashes, just briefly, before returning to drawing.

“I’m a kindergarten teacher myself. I’m used to seeing kids your age all the time. It’s spring break though and I miss my kids terribly. Do you miss going to school?”

Spencer shifted in his seat. You knew time was a delicate thing right now, but you were trying to get her to trust you.

“Eden?”

She looked up again. If she was surprised to hear Spencer speak for the first time, she didn’t show it.

“Could you describe the place you were at?”

Fear flashed in her eyes and she dropped her crayon, hugging tightly to her bunny.

You glared at Spencer.

“Just keep drawing, Eden. Okay? We’ll be right back,” you said, standing up, your hand a death grip on his arm.

Once the two of you had stepped out of the room and the door was closed behind you, you whirled on him.

“How can you be so stupid? I thought you were supposed to be a genius!”

“Y/N, you know we’re running on limited time to find those kids. We don’t know if Kali will hurt them or not!”

“I realize that. I’m trying to make her comfortable enough to talk about it.”

“Avoiding it doesn’t seem to be helping either,” he grimaced, hands on his hips.

“You saw what happened when you brought it up! She was terrified!”

“When dealing with a traumatized child you should tell them information about the situation they were in. It’s best they learn it from a trusted adult. Besides, it’s most likely they want to talk about it, but just don’t know how to bring it up.”

“And how would you know all of this, doctor?”

“Because contrary to your beliefs about me, I actually know how to do my job and how to do it well. I’ve dealt with things like this many times before. 60% of adults report being traumatized in childhood. 26% of children in the United States alone will witness or experience a traumatic event before the age of four.”

You blinked, unable to process so much information at once.

“Are you even human?”

“Are you?” Spencer shot back, eyes narrowed.

“You know, with all things considered, I’d thought you’d gotten the idea that I really hate you.” you sneered.

“Really? And here I thought that was your version of flirting,” he retaliated, sarcastically.

“Moron,” you muttered under your breath.

“Now, if you’re through calling me names, I’ve got work to do,” he said, reaching behind you for the doorknob.

“Wait,” you grabbed his arm, “Just let me try again first? Please? If I get stuck or need you, I’ll let you know.”

It was some of the most civil words you’d said to him in a long time. But you didn’t want to give up on this little girl. You wanted to help her and prove to Spencer and yourself if you were being honest, that you could do it.

He must’ve noticed your serious tone and pleading eyes because he relented. He nodded and you turned to go back in.

Eden was waiting for you when you returned, back to clutching her bunny.

“Don’t you want to finish your picture?” you asked, sitting down in front of her.

She pushed it across to you.

“Oh are you done?”

She nodded.

You picked up the picture, noticing four stick figures. Two seemed to be girls, two seemed to be boys. They looked like they could represent all four missing kids.

“Are these you and your friends?” you asked gently.

She didn’t say anything for a beat, then came a soft, timid voice.

“They aren’t my friends...at least not until a few days ago.”

“My friends here, they found out that you didn’t know these other three children. Is that right?”

Eden nodded again.

“Do you know the woman who took you?”

“No,” she said, equally as quiet as before.

“You’re doing a great job, Eden,” you smiled at her, hoping to encourage her, “Just a few more questions, okay?”

Another nod.

“Can you describe where you were?”

“I...I don’t know,” her voice trembled, as if she were going to cry.

You heard the door open up behind you and you turned to see Spencer. He gave you a terse shake of his head, as if telling you now was not the time to snap at him.

“Eden?” Spencer came around to her side and crouched by her, “You remember me, right? I’m Spencer.”

She nodded hesitantly.

“I want to try to help you help Miss Y/N here. To tell her what the place looked like that you were at.”

“But I don’t remember,” Eden said, frowning.

“I think you do. You know how when you’re afraid, you hide?” Spencer asked gently.

Eden nodded her answer.

“Well, that’s kinda what your brain is doing. It’s scared, so you think you can’t remember. What I want to do is have you to close your eyes and think back to before you were taken.”

“No, I’m scared,” Eden whimpered, hugging the stuffie.

“It’ll be okay. I’m right here,” he offered her his hand, which she took reluctantly, “I’ll be right here the entire time. If things get too scary, just squeeze my hand and we can stop. Alright?”

“Alright.”

She closed her eyes, listening to Spencer’s voice.

You were amazed at how soft and gentle he was with her. It was like seeing all of his razor sharp edges he displayed around you, smoothed out. You couldn’t remember if you’d ever heard him like this.

“Just focus on the sound of my voice,” Spencer whispered, “You were playing at the park. What were you doing?”

“Playing on the swing with my bunny,” she said.

“Okay, that’s good Eden, you’re doing wonderful. What do you hear?”

“Lots of kids playing. They’re very loud.”

“What happens next?”

“There’s a lady behind me. She asks if I would like to play in the sandbox with her. I told her yes but I didn’t want to get bunny dirty.”

Eden is trembling now and you eye Spencer warily. He holds his free hand up and you don’t say anything, just yet.

“Very good Eden. Did you go play in the sandbox?”

“No. She took my hand and led me away from the swings. I asked her where she’s going because the sandbox was the other way.”

“Do you want to stop, Eden?” Spencer asked.

“N-No. I a big girl like mommy always says.”

“Okay. What happened then, sweetheart?”

“She grabbed me and put her hand over my mouth. I tried screaming for my mommy, but I couldn’t. She took me to a car.”

“Can you remember what the car looked like?”

“Um, blue. It was blue. It had a lot of doors. It was long too.”

Spencer looked like he realized what she was describing.

“Did the middle door slide open and closed?”

She nodded, her eyes still closed.

“It was big inside with lots of seats. That’s all I saw before she covered my eyes.”

It sounded like an SUV or family van.

“When you were in the car, did you ride for a really long time? Or a short time?”

“A short time.”

You jotted the note down.

“One last question honey. Do you remember anything about the room you were in? What did it look like?”

“Like...like my bedroom. Only much dirtier. And old looking. There’s...there’s flowers on the wall. There’s a lot of toys, but I don’t want to play. I want to go home. Me and my friends are so scared. She’s coming back, she's coming back!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay! I’m right here.”

Eden’s eyes snapped open and he enveloped her in his arms, holding her tightly as she trembled.

She didn’t let go of him until her parents arrived.

•

After kicking the information over to Garcia and her being the goddess she is at finding even the most hidden information, she found the house.

The team had found her car, registered to Kali, but with a false last name. From there, Garcia looked for any run down buildings or homes for rent within 10 to 15 minutes of that park. The team agreed that Kali wouldn’t have bought a house for the simple reason of too much work. She didn’t seem to be that dedicated to a well thought out plan. That was when Garcia discovered an old house rented under the name of Kali Rowe, the same last name of the family she had been a nanny for.

You stayed behind while the team went out to rescue the children and hopefully bring Kali Dye into custody.

They did.

All four kids were now safely reunited with their parents and Kali had been arrested and hopefully was going to get the help she needed.

Since you hadn’t been there, JJ had filled you in afterwards when everybody had gotten back. You were sitting next to one another in the briefing room, talking, while everything settled down.

Kali Dye had been so distraught over the loss and destruction of her nannying career. Apparently at one point, she had been a wonderful nanny. What had happened with Daisy, truly was an accident. Whether she had had a mental breakdown or suffered from an unknown or untreated mental illness beforehand, they didn’t know. But she soon became desperate to prove she was a good nanny.

She kidnapped Daisy first, to prove her point. Then three other children that she’d followed, learning their schedules.

She had taken good care of them, at least in her mind. In reality, she hadn’t hurt them or touched them one bit. She fed them, gave them all attention and all the toys they wanted, to play with.

It was a sad situation, really. But you were glad that the families had a happy ending and their children were back safely in their homes tonight.

“You did good little sis,” JJ smiled, “Keep it up and you may just have to think about switching careers.”

“No thanks,” you chuckled, “I’m happy teaching kids, not seeing them in life threatening situations. I don’t have the heart for that.”

“Spence said you did really well getting Eden to open up,” she said.

“I’m surprised he actually knows how to compliment a person, let alone me,” you scoffed.

“Y/N. Come on. What’s your deal with him? This has been going on for years now.”

“I don’t know. I just can’t stand him.”

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” JJ said, “He’s a good guy. Besides, you used to have a crush on him when you were younger.”

“Ew, did I?”

You wrinkled your nose, trying to remember. JJ had joined the BAU when you were only 14. A lot had happened in high school, let alone the 15 years since she’d first joined. You didn’t visit her very often because of school and all of your other extracurricular activities, so you hadn’t met the team until about a year after she started.

“You don’t mean the summer after my freshman year, do you?” you asked, “Cause back then he was a cute little dweeb and it lasted like two seconds anyway. I had a case of raging hormones to the point I had a crush on just about anything male with two legs.”

You rolled your eyes, disgusted at the fact she’d even think that you’d have a crush on Spencer. Although deep down, deep, deep, deep down, a little part of you knew that she’d hit the nail on the head.

“Why do you hate him though? He’s my best friend. I love him and I want you two to get along.”

You snorted.

“Yeah, I know you love him. Remember, you told me that you told him that you’ve always loved him? That he was your first love?”

You bit your lip, trying hard to keep the jealous edge out of your tone. This is what you’d tried hard to avoid all these years. You hated that you felt like this but you’d been covering up your true feelings for him and the situation, with anger all these years. If you kept yourself at a distance, you were less likely to get hurt.

How wrong you were.

“Is that what this is about? Because I told Spence I loved him?”

“No.”

Maybe.

“Y/N.”

She gave you the same look that your mother had given you in the elevator just days before.

“Jeez, you’ve got mom’s “look” down pat,” you mumbled.

“Please tell me the truth. Is my confession why you hate him?”

Her eyes pleaded with you and you couldn’t help but cave. She was your sister and your best friend and you knew she cared.

“No. I don’t know, maybe partially. But I disliked him way before that anyway. He’s just a know-it-all smartass, that annoys the shit out of me and is just like every other guy to fall head over heels in love with Jennifer Jareau.”

You grimaced, “For a guy that has an IQ of 187, he sure doesn’t know how to be different from other guys.”

“Okay hold up,” JJ held up her hands, “First of all, he is not head over heels in love with me.”

“JJ, please. You’re not an idiot.”

“I’m serious. He may have been once, but he’s not anymore. We’re best friends and that’s it. Besides, we worked out that mess over a year ago. He’s even dated since then.”

“The kid actually dates? I’m shocked,” you said, putting a hand on your chest in mock surprise.

JJ ignored your antics, continuing on.

“Second. He’s actually a really great guy, Y/N. He’s a real sweetheart, really. It’s just a side of him that you don’t see.”

“Yeah like the dark side of the moon,” you muttered.

“Just give him a chance and try to be nice? You know what mom always said. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Besides, if you want to go for him, that’s fine.”

You laughed outright at that. As if that would happen.

“On that note, I think I’m gonna head back to your place,” you said standing.

“I have to stay a little later to finish up some work. Can you get home okay on your own?”

You assured her you could and you grabbed your purse.

“Y/N?” she called, as you were about to the glass doors.

“Yeah?”

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

•

If you thought you were gonna get a reprieve after that uncomfortable conversation, you were sorely mistaken.

The moment you stepped out of the BAU, you saw Spencer standing, waiting for the elevator, his hands clutching the strap of his tan satchel as he waited.

“Ah, there she is. The woman who saved the day,” he quipped sarcastically.

“Fuck off Reid. I’m not in the mood.”

“You know, I’m actually shocked that you’re good at something besides bitching.”

You ignored him, your teeth clenching.

“I’m surprised you held your tongue as long as you did earlier. Bet that’s a record for you.”

The elevator doors opened and you got on without a word, Spencer following you.

“What? No comebacks? Amazing. Has Spencer Reid actually won for once?”

You whirled on him, dropping your purse to the elevator floor in the process.

“No because you’re full of shit. You’re the most annoying, stubborn ass, infuriating, egocentric, smart aleck in a fancy suit I’ve ever met!”

His eyes narrowed and his mouth hardened. He pulled his satchel over his head, dropping it too, to the floor. He pushed the emergency button of the elevator with such anger, it was amazing that he didn’t break it. The elevator suddenly came to an abrupt halt.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” you screeched.

Your body was thrumming with anger. You could and likely would pummel him at any second.

“You’re not leaving this elevator until you tell me what the fuck your problem is,” Spencer glared.

“My problem?” you huffed.

“Yes because I have to deal with you jumping down my throat every single time I see you. You’re the most stuck up, spoiled, self centered, bitchy little brat I’ve had to deal with!”

“Ha! You sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

“You know what I think your problem is?” he challenged.

“Go ahead, try me. I’d love to hear.”

“I think, you don’t know how to deal with how you’re really feeling. So you hide it under anger. You lash out every time your feelings threaten to surface. It’s become a defense mechanism. It’s all you know. You fight with me because it’s the only way to protect yourself; you throw words as your daggers. Simply because you can’t get me out of your mind. I push you to limits you don’t want to think about. You may swear and declare that you hate me but in reality, you’d be thrilled if I took you right up against this elevator wall.”

His voice grew deeper with every word that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Are you profiling me? Cause that’s one hell of a reach.”

“Is it though? You wanna know how I figure that? You told me the other day that I met my match. That I can’t help but fight with you because you get under my skin. Well you were right. I do enjoy it and I think you do too. Because it turns you on. It does the same thing to me. You get under my skin yet at the same time all I can think about is how I want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

“You think I’m gonna fall for that shit from just another guy who’s crazy about JJ?” you sneered.

For the first time, he actually looked just the tiniest bit surprised.

“You think I have feelings for JJ? If I had feelings for her, do you honestly think I’d spend all my time and attention on you?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“JJ isn’t the one that occupies my brain, no matter what I try to do, Y/N,” he said through gritted teeth.

His face was mere inches away from yours now. Close enough to see an array of scattered freckles on his face. A few under one eye, a tiny one on the side of his nose, one on his forehead.

His stubble had gotten heavier in the last few days, becoming more scruff than stubble. His lips were naturally plump, an asset that would be the envy of any woman. They were also a natural shade of dark pink, maybe even leaning towards red.

Anger heated his eyes. Or was it desire? You wondered if you looked the same way. Right now, they looked more green in the brighter light in the elevator, but you could still see rings of brown around the edges of his eyes. They were also filled with mischief as if he were up for a challenge.

“You really think you’re going to distract me by putting your tongue in my mouth and getting my panties wet?” you hissed.

“Is that what you want?”

A smirk formed on his lips. He was definitely challenging you.

Your legs were trembling now. Although if you were to admit it, you weren’t entirely sure if it was from anger or arousal.

You pressed your lips together, refusing to say anything, almost afraid what would come out of your mouth. He had you cornered up against the wall now.

“Maybe I should just find out for myself,” he said, propping his hands on either side of the wall by your head, “Make you moan in my mouth while I finger you.”

The anger that was coursing your veins earlier had definitely now turned into desire. Your stomach churned with it. You could feel his body mere inches from yours and the heat from it was making your entire body temperature feel that much higher.

“It’s not like I haven’t imagined making you moan my name,” he whispered, his voice gravelly, his tongue moving out over his lips in a quick swipe.

Your breathing had become shallow and you were throbbing with need. Before you could think of what you were doing, you were already unbuttoning your jeans.

“For once in your life I wish you’d shut up and just do it,” you grunted.

He grabbed your face roughly with both hands, his lips colliding with yours. They were hot and rough against yours, this kiss so hungry and animalistic that it was unreal.

His body was pressed against yours as he pressed you against the cool, metal wall. You could feel his arousal pressed against your thigh and you unwittingly moaned into his mouth. You had a difficult time wrapping your head around the fact that you’d gotten him so hard.

Then again, you were having a hard time wrapping your mind around anything that didn’t involve him.

His tongue moved with yours, ironically increasing your desire, making you wetter. Just like you’d voiced earlier. Damn, the guy sure knew what he was doing.

He pulled your jeans roughly down your legs until they were enough out of the way that he was satisfied. His lips attacked your jaw, then neck, being anything but gentle, but it was working you up more than anything.

Your hands gripped his arms, your teeth bearing down into your bottom lip, resisting the urge to give in to what he wanted: hearing you moan.

He pulled away from you making you suddenly desperate for his lips on your skin again. He pried your hands away from him and held them against the wall, his hips pressing into yours.

His suit pants were a lot thinner than your jeans, so you could feel his erection pressing into you, dangerously close to your throbbing core where all of a sudden, you wanted him the most.

Spencer’s fingers ghosted over the fabric of your underwear, causing you to inhale sharply. It felt good and you wanted more.

You reached for his hand, trying to push it against your core, but he pulled it away, shaking his head.

“No. This is all you’re getting until you admit it.”

His finger trailed up the center of your panties, having just enough pressure to slightly feel his touch. You groaned at his teasing. If your past years of banter had been foreplay then you were more than ready for him to have you.

“Admit what?”

“That you want this,” Spencer stated simply.

His fingertip swirled lightly over the fabric, just above your clit. Light enough that you didn’t get any real friction from the touch and you bucked your hips, desperate to feel it.

“I think it’s fucking obvious,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.”

His smirk was wolfish. You knew he wasn’t going to give in unless you did what he said.

“I want this,” you groaned.

“What’s that?” he tipped his head to the side, “Can’t hear you.”

“I want this,” you said, a notch louder, gripping his wrist.

“This?”

His fingers dipped into your underwear and his thumb pressed hard against your clit.

“Ah, fuck yes,” you moaned.

He grinned, his finger dipping into your wet warmth.

“Seems like my tongue in your mouth did indeed make you wet,” he chuckled lowly, pulling your underwear off with his other hand.

His fingers teased you as you writhed and moaned, clawing at the elevator wall behind you. He had this amazing way of rubbing his knuckles against your walls as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

“Holy shit, fuck Spencer,” you whined.

You were so turned on, you hardly had any recognition of what was tumbling out of your mouth. It sure seemed to please Spencer, though.

He kept you on your toes though, slowing his fingers just when you thought you were reaching the brink of your orgasm, twisting them so gradually, it was almost painfully pleasant. You swore your eyes almost rolled back in your head when his fingers curled inward in his direction, catching that sweet spot at just the right angle.

He was kissing you as you moaned appreciatively in his mouth. His hands were quite literally magical.

His fingers finally sped up, his thumb focusing all its attention on your clit. You could feel your release quickly approaching and you were ready to succumb to it. You wanted Spencer Reid to make you cum so hard you’d be begging for more.

He did just that.

Your high hit you as you released on his fingers. Your eyes screwed shut, your head banging against the wall. You actually think you stopped breathing for a short second before air rushed back into your lungs and you released a long moan.

“Oh my god, Spencer,” you groaned, reaching for the waistband of his pants.

He’d given you one hell of an orgasm and here you were, ready to beg for more. Especially if they came while he was buried to the hilt inside you.

“That was hot as hell,” he muttered, kissing you again, “It’s sexy seeing you spend all your energy on an orgasm instead of yelling at me. It’s healthier for your body, too.”

He smirked, his teeth pulling on your lower lip gently before pulling away. His hands were working with yours to push his pants down and his boxers too.

“Are you willing to admit you want me to fuck you against this wall now?” he growled.

“Yes, yes. Fuck yes, please.”

Man, if he wanted you to be his bitch ages ago, he probably should’ve just fucked you. One orgasm at his hands and you had turned into a writhing, begging and moaning heap.

But still, you couldn’t help but wonder if he could make you feel so good with his hands, that it would most likely be ten times as amazing with his dick.

He lifted you up, holding you against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed into you. You felt yourself stretching in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time and you couldn’t hold it back; a long, low moan of gratification left your lips.You hated to admit it, but he felt fucking fantastic inside of you.

By his own confirming groan, you could tell he felt the same way as you. At the back of your mind you couldn’t help but wonder why this hadn’t happened years ago.

His hips rocked against yours, slowly at first as his mouth found yours. He was as ravenous for you as you were for him.

Your fingers dug into his back as his thrusts became faster and harder. He was quite literally fucking you into this metal wall and you were loving every second of it.

Your emitted moans were coming every few seconds with every slap of your skin against his. His own grunts and groans came from deep in his throat, making you even hotter.

“S-Spencer,” you stuttered, pulling his face back to yours.

You have him a brief kiss before smirking up at him.

“I’m the spoiled little brat that’s got you moaning like a little bitch,” you panted.

Your words made him groan as he gripped your sides. He must have excellent control because he managed to get a hold of himself, slowing his hips to where he was tantalizingly pulling out of you and pushing back in.

“Still hate me, Y/N?”

“Right now, yes,” you groaned, trying to pull him deeper within you, wanting the previous speed and depth back.

“Now?”

“Ye- ahhh,” a breathy moan came from you as he resumed his harsher and faster thrusts.

“I don’t hate you,” you groaned, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

Maybe voiced thoughts during sex were the truth because you actually didn’t hate him. Especially right now.

“Fuck, Y/N, yes baby,” he groaned.

He was close to his peak, you could tell. His fingers were on your clit, circling furiously. He was going to make sure you got your orgasm, before he got his. Who knew he was actually so decent?

Your whimpers, moans and groans were rising in pitch. You halfway hoped no one could hear, but at the same time didn’t care. Let the whole building hear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Spencer, I’m coming, I’m-”

With that, the coil of pleasure that had been building up snapped like a broken rubber band, shooting through your entire body.

You may have screeched too, you’re not entirely sure. You were completely lost to the bliss of your orgasm and even more so when he came apart not long after you. If you had thought he was attractive before, he was a hundred times more sexy when he was orgasming above you, all caused by you.

Your movements slowed, your chests both heaving. He held onto you carefully, as if he was afraid to set you down just yet. Probably a good idea considering you felt like you’d lost all function in your legs.

You laughed incredulously, unable to believe what had just happened. That had simultaneously been the craziest yet hottest thing you’d ever done.

Spencer’s smirk was replaced with a more shy, happy smile. It was a better look than the scowl he’d worn for you for so long.

It was like the moment that first orgasm hit you, all the anger, all the hatred, all the negative feelings you’d felt towards him drained from your body. You didn’t have the willpower or the desire to hate him anymore. Not that you ever really had.

“I meant what I said,” you said quietly.

“What’s that? You said a lot of things,” he chuckled.

“That I don’t hate you.”

He took a few moments in silence, parting from you and gently setting your feet on the floor again. He took his time getting decent again, as well. You worried at your bottom lip as you did the same, nervous that you’d said the wrong thing.

“So I was right? About the defensive mechanism and everything?”

“Yeah,” you nodded somberly, “I horribly misjudged you; thinking you were stuck up, full of yourself, better than anyone else, the kind of guy that was like all the others and in love with my sister.”

“If anything, I would think what just happened would prove more than anything that my sights are set on you.”

He had a point.

“Why did you hate me though?”

“I was thrown off by your reaction to me. I thought you were a self entitled, spoiled brat and that you thought you were better than me. Seems like we both vastly misjudged one another.”

“It’s kinda a good thing though,” you said.

Spencer looked at you, baffled.

“It is?”

“Well yeah, cause if none of that happened then that wouldn’t have happened either,” you gestured to the place where moments before the two of you had been a tangle of limbs.

“Good point,” he chuckled.

“Uh, Spencer?”

“Hmm?” he looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“You might want to get the elevator moving again.”

“Oh! Right.”

He laughed, hitting the emergency button to restart the elevator.

“I apologize for giving you so much grief though. I’d do anything to make it up to you,” you said.

“How about letting me take you out then? You’re still here for a few more days, aren’t you?” he asked.

You smiled.

“I think I can make all the time in my schedule for you, Spencer.”

His answering smile was enough to make you smile in return.

Oddly enough, the elevator had gone down and back up without stopping, returning to the floor the BAU was on.

“That’s weird,” Spencer mumbled.

The doors parted to JJ waiting to get on.

“Hey, what are you guys still doing here? I thought you left an hour ago.”

Huh, so it’d been an hour.

She got on the elevator, standing between the two of you.

“Elevator issues,” Spencer answered, before you could think of what to say.

“So you’ve been stuck in the elevator together this entire time?” JJ asked.

“Yup,” you answered.

“I guess it’s a miracle you two didn’t tear each other apart then,” she muttered, hitting the button for the ground floor.

Yeah, there might’ve been some tearing involved.

Behind her back, you and Spencer shared a secret smile.

TAG LIST: @dreatine @reid-187 @groovyreid @reidslibra @suvikamahes98blr @fuckthealarm @whatspunispun @iamburdened @cindywayne @thomasfoockinshelby @tinyminy88 @theitcaramelchick @missprettyboy @hushlilbabydoll @sammy-jo1977 @theonlyone-meeeee @haileymorelikestupid @lemonypink @multifandommandy @teamkiall @redbullchick @ifeelloved @one-sweet-gubler @nanocoool @delightfullyspeedyearthquake @unsteadyimagines @ughitsbaby @inkwiet @pennythetechgoddess @capt-engr-ssa @sixx-sic-sixx @spencersdolore @reidsstudies @disney-dreams-world @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore @andiebeaword @cupcake525 @be-the-bravest @gretaamyk @likelovers @hopebaker

3K notes · View notes

mysingularitybts · 3 years

Text

Will You Marry Me? || M. YG

Pairing: Min Yoongi x OC

Genre: Idol!au, romance

Warnings: none

Word Count: ~2.5k

The sun was barely peeking out from the horizon, it was too early and yet here I was waking up. It was automatic no matter how many hours I slept I was bound to rise with the sun. I laid on the bed, stretching my tense muscles, waiting for my brain to turn on. Relaxing and sinking on the bed again, I carefully peeled the bed sheets beside me to reveal my boyfriend's face. He had the bed sheet's imprinted all over his puffy face. It all made him look even cuter than he usually is.

I debated if I should wake him or not, but knowing he was going to wake up soon I got closer to him brushing his hair away from his face and proceeding to kiss all over his face. Feeling the soft pecks his eyes slowly blinked in an attempt to get rid of the sleepiness.

"Merry Christmas Yoongi," I whispered halting my attack.

Yoongi took his time stretching, yawning, and scrunching his face before responding a soft, "Merry Christmas, Yun."

Laying on his back, he opened his arms, knowing I'd want to cuddle him before we had to get up. It was a habit we had to talk about how we were feeling that day and about our plans for the day. There wasn't much to do today it was Christmas after all, the only things allowed to do was be lazy and open presents.

Alluring me to stay in bed for longer Yoongi kissed my lips very well knowing he was my weakness. It felt like we spent hours whispering sweet nothings as if scared someone would hear when in reality, we were the only ones in the whole apartment. Yoongi's hands almost lulled me to sleep again as he caressed my hair.

"Remember, we're going over to Hobi's for the Christmas party," Yoongi told me in between kisses.

"Stop thinking about Hobi while I kiss you," I laughed, pulling away, "He's not the one marrying you."

"From what I recall, I'm not marrying you either," he quickly responded, eyes narrowing in question and lips forming its natural pout.

He had a point, but it's only because he hasn't asked! We've talked about marriage before and it's something we both want to do we just don't know when. I know I'm ready to take the next step we've been in this relationship for about five years, we live together, we're basically a married couple already and that's fine I'm happy with what we have. But I would love to marry him officially, have a ceremony, say our vows to each other, and most importantly, call him my husband, the love of my life.

Sitting up on the bed, I straddled him, holding his shoulders and getting close to his face and asked, "Min Yoongi, will you marry me?"

Yoongi's eyes widened for a second before going back to their natural shape, "No."

"Why do you keep saying no?" I whined, slumping down in his chest.

Yup, it wasn't the first time I had asked. In fact, it's been a month since I first asked, and he keeps saying no. Every time he'd say dumb excuses as to why he wouldn't marry me by now it was more like a joke to see what silly thing he'd come up with.

"I'm too young to get married," he explained with a whine while grabbing hold of my thighs and flipping us over.

"Yoongs you're 29," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Exactly, I'm a baby!" he exclaimed, burying his head on my neck.

"At what age will you consider saying yes?" I sighed, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"35," he said, the sound coming out muffled.

"That's a long time by then we would have been dating for ten years," I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back to look at his face.

"So?" Yoongi shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm gonna keep asking in between in case you change your mind."

After an hour of waking up I finally stood from the bed and went into the kitchen to get breakfast started. I turned on the coffee maker first and prepared our preferred cups to pour it in. Just as I placed Yoongi's cup on the counter, he emerged from the room with a new set of pajamas and damp hair.

"You should dry your hair don't want you getting sick," I mentioned over my shoulder while whisking together the ingredients to make pancake batter.

Cold hands landing on my hips made me jump, "Yoongs your hands are freezing."

"Sorry," he lightly chuckled behind me, "In that case you should put on a pair of pants too."

"You should know by now I'm a rebel I do what I want," I sassily said, turning to look at him.

Yoongi was looking at me with a blank face, "You forgot to do laundry, didn't you?"

"Yes," I admitted with a sheepish smile.

"Alright, let me get my coffee and I'll dry it," he sighed letting go of me.

I thought I was alone when I felt a harsh sting to my backside, "Ow Yoongi that hurt!"

"That's not what you said the other day," he yelled from the hallway.

"Yoongi!" I swear this man is so inappropriate sometimes.

After breakfast we stayed in the living room and exchanged our Christmas gifts. It was honestly a very relaxing morning between the two of us and I couldn't be happier. We watched old Christmas movies and drank hot chocolate to get even more into the Christmas spirit. Somewhere in the early afternoon we crashed and napped on the sofa while 'Home Alone' played in the background.

"Yun...Yun...Yun," I heard Yoongi's soothing voice calling me and shaking my arm.

"Five more minutes," I mumbled, hiding my face in one of the cushions.

"Come on, wake up we have to get ready for Hobi's party," he said, rubbing my arm soothingly.

"On one condition," I pouted, lifting my head.

"What's that?"

"Marry me?" I asked, a smile sneaking past my lips.

"Ugh, I can't, I already promised this girl in a fan meet," he groaned, pulling me by my arms so I'd sit up.

A girl can only try. I don't want to be that girl who keeps insisting her boyfriend to marry her, but like I love this man so much I want to make it official! If he would've told me in the beginning, he didn't believe in marriage, I would've prepared myself and accepted it. Sometimes it makes me question if he isn't sure about us, luckily, I know him well enough to know he loves me just as much as I love him. I mean marriage is a huge step, and between my job and his career as an idol it can get tough. I understand he wants to have a more stable life before taking this step and possibly starting a family.

Feeling well rested, I got ready for tonight's party. Yoongi has been telling me about this party for the past month apparently Hoseok wanted everyone there because he has a surprise for everyone, I think he's finally going to introduce us to his girlfriend.

With my make up done and my hair curled I put on my red dress I bought it solely for this occasion. Yoongi helped me pick it out in the store there were so many good choices and at the end, I was in between two dresses. I had no choice but to ask for his help. With one long glance at each he ended up picking with the red one, he made a good decision because I looked stunning in this color.

"Yoongi are you ready?" I yelled while slipping into my heels.

He was in the other room because he insists I kicked him out of ours and that is a lie. I simply told him to get out of the way because he was hogging the mirror and I needed to do my makeup. The mirror he was using has the best lighting.

"Yes," he muttered, stepping into the room. He stopped in his tracks taking in how I looked, "You look beautiful."

"Beautiful enough to marry me?" I jested, shooting him a flirty smile.

"More like too beautiful for me to marry you," he grinned, walking over and pecking my lips.

"Don't be acting cute," I pouted, melting at his words, "I love you."

"I love you too Yun," he murmured, kissing me again.

When he pulled away, he had red all over his lips. Giggling, I grabbed a makeup wipe from my makeup bag and brought it up to his lips to wipe off any lipstick.

"There we go perfect once again."

Thanking me he grabbed my hand and off we went to Hobi's house. He didn't even let go of it on the drive. I'd spontaneously squeeze his hand tightly to see if it bothered him, but due to my lack of strength, he barely felt it, in turn he squeezed mine making me wince.

"Ow, stop hurting me," I whined, tapping on his hand so he'd let go.

"I barely did anything besides you wanted to hurt me first," he argued yet his hand was still on mine and I didn't dare let go.

"No, I wasn't," I defended myself, "It was an experiment to test my strength."

"In that case you have the strength of a toddler," Yoongi deadpanned.

"I know," I huffed, there was no denying that fact.

Once parked in front of Hoseok's house Yoongi opened the door for me and together we went to the front door. Hoseok opened the door with a huge smile and ushered us in.

"Sooyun, it's been so long I missed you!" he cheerfully said, pulling me into a hug.

"Yesterday was so long ago, my sunshine, the sky was so glum without you," I laughed as he rocked us side to side.

"I'm so glad you're here I want to introduce you to someone," Hobi excitedly said, dragging me with me. Before he pulled me away, I grabbed Yoongi's hand, so he'd follow us.

I was right Hobi wanted us to meet his girlfriend, Soojin. She was really sweet and nice I could totally see why Hobi likes her. We talked for a long while getting to know each other from my peripheral I saw Hobi constantly looking over in our direction and smiling happily that we got along. It was cute how he wanted us all to get along.

The night was filled with drinks, food, and lively chatter. Not soon after Yoongi and I got there the rest of the boys started filing in with their significant others. Something I didn't know was that the boys did a secret Santa amongst themselves, so it was a real treat seeing them exchange gifts and sweet words.

It was 2 am when we left the party. Hoseok and Taehyung were still hyped up, I just know they were going to collapse soon.

"Did you have fun?" Yoongi asked, briefly looking in my direction. We were in the car on our way home, music playing on the speakers at a low volume.

"I did, I'm exhausted though. I can't keep up with Hobi," I chuckled lightly, shaking my head.

"Tell me about it," he agreed.

"I can't wait to get to bed," I told him, kissing the back of his hand.

"We're almost there," he gently squeezed my hand, "Can you get my phone from my jacket pocket?"

"Sure," I nodded, turning in my seat to get the jacket he threw to the back seat.

After grabbing it from the back, I straightened in the seat and searched through the many pockets of the jacket. In the last pocket where the phone was supposed to be I found a small black velvet box. Opening it there was a beautiful diamond ring staring back at me. It had everything I've ever wanted on a ring it was much like the ones I had saved on my Pinterest page.

"Yoongi..." I barely spoke above a whisper.

Why was this in his pocket? Did it mean what I thought it meant? Did I ruin a surprise?

"What?" He asked with a side smile.

"What is this?"

"A ring for you," he answered nonchalantly.

"For what?" I insisted, determined to find the answer I wanted.

"To marry me," Yoongi lovingly added.

"Don't joke with me Yoongi," I pleaded, hoping this wasn't some sick joke.

"I'm not, I'm serious," he insisted.

"Wh-what? Pull the car over," I ordered him, I needed for him to tell me this was real, eye to eye.

"Okay," Nodding, he pulled into a fast-food parking lot.

"This is serious? This isn't because I keep asking, right? If you don't want to marry me, that's fine and I'll understand. You don't have to feel forced to do this," I felt guilty a part of me couldn't help but think this was because I kept asking him. It started with me being serious, but it's more of a joke now. Of course, I want to marry him that much remains true, but not if he doesn't want to.

"Yun, I'm as serious as can be. I've been thinking about it for a while now," he admitted, taking his seatbelt off and turning in his seat, "I wanted to surprise you and I know that if I did anything overly romantic besides our dates, you'd be on to me," he finished explaining.

"Oh." My mind was processing everything that happened in the last 5 minutes. The thing that I wanted most was happening and I couldn't believe it. The love of my life asked me (kind of) to marry him and I said 'Oh.' Way to go Sooyun.

"So, what do you say? Will you marry me? Spend the rest of our lives together until we're old and gray?" he asked, a nervous look in his handsome face.

Tears streamed down my face and with a vigorous nod I accepted his proposal, "I will."

"Don't cry or I'll take it back," he jokingly threatened, taking the ring out of the box and slipping it on my ring finger.

"I love you," I sobbed despite his words.

"I love you too," he warmly replied, cupping my cheeks and kissing my waiting lips.

"Let's get home so I can kiss you and hug you properly," I told him after our kiss.

"Your wish is my command," he chuckled, pulling out of the parking lot.

And that is how my wonderful boyfriend now fiancé proposed in front of a McDonald's, not very romantic yet surprising and I wouldn't have it any other way. I loved this man, and it didn't matter if he proposed with a ring pop because I would've agreed in a heartbeat. I'm sure there was a long time to go until we had the ceremony but this was enough for me.

72 notes · View notes

achaoticeternal · 4 years

Text

THIS IS ME TRYING

AVENGERS X READER (tony stark x daughter!reader, platonic peter parker x reader) masterlist // taglist

Request: @big-galaxy-chaos “Hey so I see that you also need requests as much as I do 😚 so here is mine! So it's Peter x stark!reader angst. Where Tony is afraid of becoming like his father but in reality, he is worst than him. He favors Peter more than her. Even though she is smarter than her own father, and won tons of awards and shit. Tony doesn't realize what he lost until the reader is gone. Btw the relationship between the reader and Peter is platonic! Also, everyone is oblivious to how she is feeling. Just pure angst”

Summary: Dads and daughters are supposed to have a beautiful relationship. But you could never be the song he always wanted. Word Count: 2.5K A/N: Based on the song this is me trying by Taylor Swift. Reader and Peter are both 18+; takes place after Thanos and Tony lives. Warnings: Heavy angst, cursing, self destructive behaviors, mentions death

“Mr. Stark, I’ve been working on the chemical formula of my webbing and I’m pretty sure that I’ve completely perfected it,” Peter talked while walking with your father to the lab.

“That’s great because I’ve been working on your web-shooters. Now, they can shoot up to 200 yards in length and the error rate of them getting jammed is less than one percent.”

Tony rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder as they left the room together. Neither of them acknowledges you on the couch, reading another novel involving quantum physics. But you’re used to the cold shoulder your father has given you since he first met Peter Parker. You’re used to the way he’s turned you away all your life, justifying his choice by saying he’s protecting you.

You knew that he feared to become his father. Pepper explained that to you when you were a child and you couldn’t leave your room until Tony’s lady of the night let. Or as you and Pepper called it at the time “taking out the trash”.

Maybe that was when you became more interested in the mathematics and science you found in the book and the workshop over good ole bonding time with dear old dad. If he wanted to neglect the time and opportunity to raise you, you would at least make sure to put his money and name to good use for your own personal benefit. And in the back of your mind, you knew that part of you was doing this to earn the attention and love you desired from your father.

Tony just saw it as taking an early interest in your future. So he didn’t stop you when you preferred to sit with tutors over playdates, draw out designs for engines and inventions instead of scribbling in coloring books, or even reading through scientific theories over watching Disney movies. He didn’t think it was strange, because that’s what he did at your age. Hell, by the time you were 10 you had won three first-place national science fair ribbons, third place in the national spelling bee, and began developing a prototype to turn the emissions from cars back into breathable oxygen.

Everyone noticed your brain, and how much you had achieved now at 18 years old. You held 2 Bachelor’s in Mechanical Engineering and Organic Chemistry from MIT and a Master’s in Astrophysics from Georgia Tech. And you were now planning out when you wanted to go to Law school and earn your doctorate. But you were living at the compound now, taking a gap year.

When you went away for school, you learned from others how normal life was for everyone else. You met kids who were the first in their family to go to college or were looking for opportunities outside of the small towns they came from. When you came home from your second semester at MIT, you told Tony about all this and he created the September Foundation in order to fund the projects and inventions those kids were creating. It was another punch in the gut to you, because you realized that you would never be enough for Tony.

If you were enough, he would have passed the mantle of Iron Man onto someone else after he almost lost you and Pepper to the Mandarin. If you were enough, he wouldn’t have enlisted Peter to help him in his fight against Captain America. If you were enough, he wouldn’t have gone into space for a final fight. If you were enough, Morgan wouldn’t be in the other room watching cartoons. And if Tony acknowledged you, just even a little but, maybe you wouldn’t be trying so hard to impress him and the world.

“Ms. Stark, your package has arrived. Shall I send it over to the labs?” F.R.I.D.A.Y echoed into the room.

“No, send it over to my personal workshop. In fact, send all of TS-2008 to my personal workshop.”

“Of course, miss.”

“Oh, and F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

“Yes, miss?”

“Please stop referring to me as ‘Ms. Stark’, (Y/N) is fine.”

“Alright, CASS, reboot the system diagnostics and run test C-24,” you yawned as you asked your personal AI system. The personal AI system you built for yourself, bu yourself - no help from Tony at all.

“Systems are checked out, shall I launch the test?”

“Go for it,” you groaned and took to Advil for your poundingheadachee. It was now two in the morning after another long night of coding, calibrating, testing, and perfecting the project you’ve been working on the past two years.

When you were younger, you tried to replicate the Iron Man suit, but your father quickly discovered the helmet and nearly perfected arc reactor you’d created in his lab. He trashed all of it and told you never to attempt to create the suit again. He said you were better than that, that you had more potential than pretending to be a superhero. You realized as you grew older that he didn’t care if you were trying to become a hero or not; but that you were copying his work. His precious Iron Man that he took months to perfect only took a week for his child to solve.

Dear old dad couldn’t let you have things the easy way. So instead after SHIELD fell and Tony began working to finish wiping out HYDRA, you began working on your own original model suit. Now it was almost ready to showcase to the world.

“Test C-24:successful. Shall I continue to run diagnostics to watch the processing and reaction time of TS-2008?”

“Yes, CASS. Run virtual simulations L-29, O-400, and T-38. Let me know when the trials have finished running and whether or not they were successful or not.”

“Yes, Ms. (Y/N),”

You pushed away from your desk and left your workshop. Before you knew it, you were in the kitchen pouring yourself another cup of coffee. You had been through 3 pots already tonight and no one noticed. Guess that was the nice thing about being Tony’s kid. Everyone else acknowledge your accomplishments and paid no mind to your destructive tendencies. In fact, maybe you’d celebrate tonight and snag a bottle of champagne from the extravagant wine fridge next to the dishwasher. You’d done it plenty of nights before when you wanted to drown out and numb the pain in your heart.

“(Y/N)? Why are you awake? And why are you holding a bottle of champagne?”

Ah, Peter... of course he would be spending the weekend at the compound. It’s not likely he has a perfectly good and happy home back in Queens with a guardian who loves him very much and would give the world to him. Guess that’s something May and your Father.

“Hello, Perfect Parker”

“You know I’ve never understood why you call me that, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Of course it doesn’t make sense from your end of the looking glass.Why are you up?” You tried so hard not scowl or be too rude. Peter had tattled to TOny before about you having a ‘bad attitude’ towards him.

“I believe I asked you that first.”

“That you did, but if you want an answer out of me, you’ll have to answer first.”

“I couldn’t sleep. thought I would get myself a glass of water. You?”

“I’m getting wasted, just like all my potential,” You faked a smile and started peeling the gold wrapping off of the cork of the bottle.

“Don’t say that, everyone knows how talented and brilliant you are,” He sighed while grabbing himself a glass and walking over to the fridge, “You’re a Stark”

“Tell that to Dad, because you’ll always be more of a Stark than I’ll ever be,” You huffed as you pulled a corkscrew out of a drawer near you.

“That doesn’t make any sense, (Y/N), are you sure you haven’t been drinking already? Because you sound delirious. Maybe you should spend some time outside of your bedroom, maybe even get out of the compound. When was the last time you left to go somewhere?”

“Thanks for the concern Parker, but I’ve been able to hold my own for at least fifteen years now. And I know I don’t leave here a lot because I don’t have the opportunity too. If there’s a private event, either Pepper attends with Tony or Spider-man makes an appearance with Iron Man. I’m just surprised that there aren’t rumors across the media wondering ‘Is Spider-Man the lost of the Iron Man, Tony Stark?” You waved your hand in the air to match the dramatic tone.

“Haha, you’re so funny,” He took a sip out of your water, “People know you exist”

“Yeah, maybe if they do a quick Google shirt. But I’m not offended, I know that I just live in your shadow. But I’m used to it,” Your poured the alcohol into a glass and began to sip from it, relief flooding through you.

“Okay , I get it. You’re just in another one of your dramatic moods, maybe you should just go to bed before you say or do something stupid,” he took a step towards you.

“Don’t I always?”

“Always what?”

“Say or do something stupid?”

He halted and shook his head, “That’s not what I meant, (Y/N), I-”

“No, that’s exactly what you meant, Parker,” You brushed past him and stormed into the living room, “You don’t understand how lucky you are.”

He came stomping after you, “Oh, so you’re feeling brave, huh? Well you just sound like an idiot. I’m not just some lucky kid! I’ve lost my parents, my Uncle was killed in front of my face, and I disappeared from existence! The only people who care for me are Aunt May and Tony.”

You turned to face him, face completely red, tears threatening to spill, “Well at least you have Tony, because I don’t! I’ve just run around all my life trying to be perfect, be easy for him to deal with, live up to his and everybody's expectations! But I’m not good enough, I’ve never been good enough, and I’ll never be good enough. I’m just Tony Stark’s bastard child who built herself from the ground up without the slightest bit of help from her father!”

“(Y/N)...”

“No, don’t you ‘(Y/N)’ me. You’ve gotten everything you wanted from my father since day one. I never had that. You didn’t have to work to really make your own suite, you didn’t have to endure a lifetime of pain because of his arrogant ass, YOU didn’t have to wonder where Tony was on your graduation day for MIT - his alma mater - because he attended your fucking high school graduation instead!”

“What the hell is going on?” Tony yelled from the opposite end of the room. Pepper stood behind him and you could hear other door creaking open to here the events down the hall, “Not only are you two fighting in the living room and woke up half the compound, but you woke up Morgan and now she’s crying in her room because you two are screaming at each other.”

“Well boo-fucking-hoo, poor Morgan woke up in the middle of the night,” you mumbled to yourself.

“I just came to get a glass of water,” Peter attempted to defend himself.

And from Tony and Pepper’s angle, he did look to be more innocent. He had a glass of water in his hand and was completely cool. While you stood opposite of him; a bottle of booze in one had, dark circles under your eyes, a tear stained face, and looking to be in a mad frenzy.

“(Y/N), explain yourself,” Tony spoke sternly.

You took a deep breath in and wiped away fresh tears with your sleeve, “No, I don’t have to.”

“Excuse me,” your father marched across the room, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight but-”

“What’s gotten into me? Do you even listen to the bullshit that comes out of your mouth? No, of course you do, because you like listening to yourself talk more than you’ll listen to me. So talking to you is as fucking useless as talking to a deaf man!”

Peter and Tony now stood stunned at you and your sudden tantrum, but you knew it had been coming, you had always known. You knew one day you were going to explode, and it just happened to be tonight.

“I get it, I’m not precious Peter, or your beautiful Morgan. I’m just your bastard child from some broad you met on Malibu Beach. Even though I’m just a kid, I’ve always been your competition, a threat to you and your name. And even after every nearly life-ending event, I thought things would change - that you’d finally love me. But that never happened not even after Extremis infected not just Pepper’s body, but my own! And now I’m dying, I’m fucking dying, dad. I’m running out of time and trying to do everything I can. I go to school and get these diplomas and certificates to impress you. I invent and build thing to get your attention. I do it all because I still desire your validation and I’m running out of time,” you fall to your knees, everything becoming to much, “this is me trying, just like I have been all my life- but it’s still not enough.”

The room went silent. Only sobs echoed around the room as champagne poured out the bottle, staining the carpet. Neither Tony or Peter knew what to say or what to do. How could they begin to comfort the crying girl on the floor, or fix everything that ha occured over a lifetime.

Tony finally knelt down, “(Y/N), you know I never meant for any of this to happen, for you to ever feel like this. I’ve always been so scared of becoming your grandfather... I thought I was doing right by never pushing you, I guess it just never clicked.”

“Oh yeah, is that why you pushed me away and found Peter? And then when you realized you had messed up and forgot about your first daughter, you had another one in order to make things up?” You raised to head and shoulder up first, then finally rose back onto your two feet, “well congratulations, you’re worse than Howard Stark. And I hope you’re proud, Dad.”

With that, you left the living room. You couldn’t deal with in anymore that night, maybe ever again. Because when Tony came to check on you the next morning, you were missing. Only a note by your bedside remained as the only proof you had even lived in the room.

I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

if you would like to request a work, click here

to join my taglist, click the link at the top of the post

388 notes · View notes

whirlybirdwhat · 3 years

Text

crown the king (with bloody flowers) - chapter 29

Hanahaki au drabble series, in which Luffy is in love with the sea. Ao3

chapter 29 - crocuses - crocus

“Breathe in.”

The boy in front of him does.

“Breathe out.”

The boy in front of him barely does, his chest shaking, a cough itching out of his throat. There’s a rattling in there, around his lungs, like something petal-soft blooming at the bottom.

Crocus frowns, lines etching across his face in ways they hadn’t since his captain’s time.

When Shank’s had crossed back over Reverse Mountain, he hadn’t believed it.

He said the same thing Roger said! Shanks had grinned, chattering to Crocus like he was still an apprentice and not an emperor in the making. I can’t wait to tell Rayleigh - imagine his face!

A boy, like their captain? Like the man who looked at the world and decided to turn it upside down as he breathed his last? Like the man who smiled like thunder and fought like the devil? Like the man who valued adventure and his friends over anything else?

Like Roger who-

“I want to be - “

Well.

There really was no describing what Roger’s dream was.

No one else was like him.

(No one else coughed flowers as he fought gods, tyrants, the sea itself. No one else laugh and let the petals fall, let his body weaken as he made one last - not quite desperate - reach for the end.

No one else coughed flowers on the execution stage, and let them fly with the wind like a challenge to the world.)

But Monkey D. Luffy sits on a bench before Crocus with a grin smeared in blood and the sun high behind him, and well -

Crocus can almost believe it.

The kid fought an island whale. Crocus can’t remember Roger doing that.

(The kid smiled as he did it, and painted a straw hat (if poorly) on Laboon’s head, matching his own. Its Roger’s hat, he knows. It makes him smile whenever he looks at Laboon.

The straw hat - always a promise.)

The kid choked as he did it. Crocus does remember Roger doing that.

“No doctors on the crew?” He directs his question to the navigator, who stands idly by their captain as Crocus runs through the checkup they had requested.

The navigator - Nami, he believes her name is - shakes her head. “No. Just me - and I’m not particularly good at medicine either, not for the injuries these idiots get and - well.” She waves her hand at the petals fluttering around the ground, swept up by the sea breeze. “You know.”

He knows.

Crocus turns back to the kid, who’s eyes are chasing after seagulls flying around Laboon rather than the person currently giving him an exam. Crocus bonks him on the head to get his attention. “Hey! Brat!”

Luffy looks over and cocks his head, giggling slightly. “Shishishi! Flower Man!”

Crocus gives him a look. “When did you first start having symptoms?”

(He already knows the answer.)

“After I ate my devil fruit!”

(Shanks came back over the Red Line, regret in every feature and hat no longer adorning his head.)

“And when was that?”

(Still…)

“Ah! When I was seven.”

Crocus nods. He’s fourteen then, now. Still young and baby faced, not even old enough to be let into bars. “How often would you say your chest hurts?”

The kid goes quiet and still at that, shifting a glance at his crew who haven’t stopped glancing over like a mother wolf over her young since Crocus started this whole exam. “… Every day.”

“And your throat?”

“I dunno.”

Crocus gives him another look. Too bad the kids seems to be the only one unfazed by it and bursts out laughing.  

(It’s just another similarity to Roger, who laughed when Crocus glared at him, even as he lay bedridden and sick.)

Nami, thankfully, cuts in. “He gets worse after he falls into the sea and we can’t fish him out right away-“

“Hey!”

“Luffy! Quiet! Anyway - He gets worse then, and after a rough fight. We haven’t had too many storms yet, but I’m guessing them too.” Nami finishes, giving Luffy her own look as he brushes petals from his face.

Luffy is… He’s like Roger, in all the ways that might matter. He seems to be chasing something bigger than himself, with friends and freedom and adventure held before all else. He has a dream and a curse and a smile - but he’s not like Roger.

Crocus knows this as fact, now.

(Roger asked him to leave Laboon. Luffy would never do that.)

(Roger’s illness never fluctuated. Just got worse and worse as his poor reputation soared higher into infamy. Steady and horrible and unable to be cured. Luffy’s is like the tide, like the thing he loves above all else. Always changing.)

It means he can’t do much for him.

Luffy isn’t going to listen to him, so he turns to Nami. “Keep him dry when you can, and keep to liquids after a dip in the ocean. Get your chef to cook foods to help with blood loss, and try to find a doctor when you can.”

Nami nods, serious and stern as Luffy protests that they need to find a musician first.

Crocus will leave them to it. He’s had enough of chasing after musicians and cures for now.

Instead, he watches them leave, watches Luffy laugh and wave and smile like Crocus’s captain did before him. A crown of straw adorns his head and the bright red does well to hide the blood stains. He’s only fourteen, but he’s already managed to put together a crew that will rival any other.

Crocus is oddly proud.

“Heh. That boy…”

(As Luffy’s crew boards his ship, Crocus pulls him away for a moment.

“Kid,” he says, sternly, because this is Shanks’ bet and this kid is strong. “You’ve got three years - less if you keep setting out like this.” He’s made these estimates enough time with Roger, even if he fell to the blade in the end. He knows what he’s doing.

Luffy looks up at him, and clutches at his tank. “I know.” 

The last pirate to come through here - a Portgas D. Ace - had only been 17. The rookies just keep getting younger but - there’s a desperation in Luffy’s eyes. A knowing. A steadiness in the face of his death.

There’s a pause before Luffy grins brighter and younger than Roger ever had. “But I’m the man who will become King of the Pirates! I can’t stop now!”

Of course.)

Luffy sails off, and the flowers in the water hail victory rather than death.

Crocus has always liked crocuses.

Crocus: a purple and white flower that means cheerfulness, youth, abuse not, impatience, pleasures of hope. Due to its early blooming in difficult areas, it has come to be a sign of hope - spring will always come.

#op #one piece #whirlywhat #whirlywrites #hanahaki #hanahaki au #rbs > likes! tho both appreciated #opfic #crown the king #luffy #monkey d. luffy #nami #crocus #roger #gold roger #gol d. roger #cries im so tired #this chapter made me soft and happyy and sad

27 notes · View notes

emy-loves-you · 3 years

Text

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 10

Protective Snek meets Tired Boi (With Flowers!)

Chapter 9 | Masterlist | Chapter 11

Warnings: crying, mentions of sex, mentions of lying and mistrust

(Jan 2nd)

V- (10:20 AM) Hey Pat, what do you want for your birthday?

P- (10:21 AM) I don’t need anything big, Kiddo. Just another drawing from you would be amazing :)

V- (10:21 AM) Is there nothing that you would be happy with me buying you?

P- (10:22 AM) Well, I like flowers!

L- (10:22 AM) No you don’t. None of us have gardening skills and you cry every time they wilt.

P- (10:22 AM) I still like them! We’ll just have to try harder this time!

Virgil thought for a few minutes before smirking. He exited the chat and opened up a chat with Janus and Remus.

V- (10:23 AM) Do either of you have the staff contacts from that charity event 2 months ago?

J- (10:23 AM) Perhaps

Re- (10:23 AM) Y the hell do you want them?

V- (10:24 AM) Do you remember the flowers that they were selling? I want to contact whoever they bought them from.

J- (10:24 AM) You mean like the one that Remus bought for me?

V- (10:25 AM) Yes, but less obscene colors.

Re- (10:25 AM) Wait let me guess

Re- (10:26 AM) “Princey’s” birthday was in July and “Lo” doesn’t seem like the flower type, so this is for “Pat,” isn’t it?

V- (10:26 AM) Do you have the fucking contact or not?

J- (10:27 AM) Even better. I have the address

V- (10:27 AM) Why the fuck do you have the address?

J- (10:27 AM) Remus TOTALLY didn’t break the original flower as soon as we got home.

Re- (10:28 AM) HEY! I tripped on YOUR stupid rug and it happened to end up crushed underneath me!

J- (10:28 AM) LEAVE THE RUG OUT OF THIS!

Virgil chuckled, eventually breaking up their argument so he could get the phone number and address. Once he had it, he called the shop and ordered a custom-made bouquet. They told him that it would be ready for pick-up in 2 weeks. He turned back to his crush’s chat.

V- (10:29 AM) Just finished ordering your gift.

P- (10:29 AM) What is it?!

V- (10:30 AM) It’s a surprise! Oh, and do you still have the vase that your chocolate bouquet was in?

P- (10:30 AM) Yeah, why?

V- (10:30 AM) You may wanna have it empty on your birthday :)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(January 16th)

“So, where are we going?” Remus asked, chugging the rest of his Pepsi.

“To get Virgil’s flowers, darling. We’ve been over this.” Janus replied, adjusting his rearview mirror. Virgil laid in the back, fast asleep. Janus sighed. Virgil never got enough sleep, in his opinion. It was difficult to get Virgil fully asleep by 4 AM, and even then he was usually awake by 9 AM. Ever since he met his new “crushes,” Virgil had been getting better with his sleeping habits ( “Lo’s been trying to rope me into their sleeping schedule,” Virgil had admitted with a blush ); but he still didn’t sleep enough, in Janus’ humble opinion.

Speaking of crushes, Janus focused his eyes on the empty road as he thought about the three men who had stolen his best friend's heart. Pat, Lo, and Princey, Virgil called them. Not much to work with in terms of name, and no physical characteristics either. Janus was halfway convinced to stalk them (he knew where they lived, after all) but the thought of Virgil hating him for it shut up those thoughts immediately. Virgil already dealt with a ton of Janus bullshit without complaint, the least he could do is honor Virgil’s wish to keep his crushes anonymous. Even though Janus had no physical description to work off of, Virgil's offhand comments were enough for Janus to paint a decent picture of them.

"Princey," the first one that Virgil met. Extremely dramatic, probably light-headed and egotistical. The one that Janus ordered a katana for. A fucking katana. Why would he want a katana of all things? And those nicknames. His nicknames for Virgil were worse than Remus’, and that’s saying something. Though he was kind to Virgil in their interactions; at least, that’s what Virgil told him. Janus would have to keep a close eye on this one.

“Pat,” the one they were going to pick up flowers for. The so-called “Dad Friend” of the group. Called Virgil “Kiddo.” Mother-henned the shit out of him. Even though Virgil was their Sugar Daddy, Janus wouldn’t be surprised if they called Pat “Daddy” in bed. On the other hand, some of the things that Virgil said spoke otherwise. Pat’s love of stuffed animals, his goofy puns, his opinion against swearing; he sounded like a child in an adult body. An oxymoron, and someone that Janus will also have to keep an eye on.

And “Lo.” Possibly the one that Janus trusted the least out of the trio. Extremely serious. Chocolate addict. Has a fucking sleep schedule for his boyfriends. Probably a control freak. Works part-time at the library. Goes to the local college. More interested in space than the world around him. Probably even more egotistical than Princey. Spends the majority of his time arguing with others or chastising Virgil for spending money on them. Most likely to upset Virgil. One that Janus would definitely be keeping an eye on.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. He would not let them hurt Virgil. And if they somehow did, well…

Some of Father’s old associates could still prove useful. They at least knew how to hide a body. Or three.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(January 17th)

Janus triple-checked the address, making sure that he was at the right house. Virgil had needed a safe way to ship these flowers to Pat’s house without Pat finding out OR one of his crushes seeing his face. So, Janus agreed to be his delivery boy. It made sense; Deceit wore the most makeup AND he hissed every other line, so it was near impossible to be recognized out-of-costume. And if Janus got a good look at Virgil’s crushes… well, Virgil wasn’t here now, was he? Janus set the bouquet on the middle of the porch; far enough for the person to not accidentally knock it over on their way outside, but close enough to where it would be noticed and not accidentally fall off the edge. He tapped the door three times with the back of his knuckles and quickly turned around, making a beeline for his car. He intended on getting a glimpse of the man’s face as he drove away, hopefully seeing enough to be able to spot him off the college roster-

“Wait!” Janus stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t expect him to be that fast. There was a moment of silence before Janus heard a sigh. “You’re not Virgil, are you?”

He smirked. “Yes, I’m definitely Virgil. I just decided to knock on your door and increase the chances of you seeing me when I could’ve just texted me.”

The man sighed again. “You must be Janus, then. I assume that since you arrived specifically when Patton wouldn’t be home today, you came to drop off his birthday present.” There was a slight pause, probably meant for Janus to respond. Suddenly. There was a soft “Oh.” Janus couldn’t take it anymore; he turned around and his jaw dropped.

The man was tall, taller than any of the Dark Sides. He had dark brown hair, brushed neatly out of his face. He wore a pair of square glasses, which perfectly framed his dark blue eyes. He wore a black button-up shirt and dark wash jeans. A navy blue tie hung loosely around his neck. But what caught Janus’ attention was the look of pure adoration on his face as he looked at the flowers on the porch. His face was so open and kind, something that Janus never expected him to look like. Is this the look that Janus gave Remus when they were alone? If so, Janus now understood why Virgil didn’t want to be in their relationship. Just the look on Lo’s face was enough to make Janus feel excluded from their relationship. Suddenly, the adoration turned to a more mischievous look. “That’s why he wanted Patton to clean out that vase,” he said fondly, before shaking his head. “Do I even want to know how much Virgil spent on this?”

“Nope.” Janus made sure to keep his voice nonchalant, not showing any sign of weakness. He watched curiously as Logan did the same, schooling his expression before looking up at Janus. His eyes briefly flickered over to Janus’ scar, but other than that he paid no mind to it. Janus felt something rise within him; whether respect or irritation, he couldn’t tell. “Now’s the time where I must ask: what are your intentions with Virgil?” He made sure to keep an even tone, not wanting to influence Lo’s response.

Lo blinked, looking almost surprised, before his eyes dropped back to the flowers. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “On one hand, Virgil is an amazing person that I’ve now known for several months. I know that the others have wanted to ask him to join our relationship for a while. On the other hand, we know very little about him. Unless Virgil inherited this money, there’s no possible way that his only profession is commissioning art. What else has he lied about? How can I trust him, much less love him, if I don’t know when he’s lying to me?”

Janus slowly raised his left hand, using his right to cover his heart. “My name is Janus Williams. I swear to you my full honesty. Ask me anything that you don’t believe other than Virgil’s profession, and I will answer to the best of my ability.”

Lo rubbed a hand against his face- fuck, the guy was actually crying. “That’s the problem. I want to believe him; I want to read his texts and not feel even the slightest bit of skepticism. I want to eagerly accept him into our relationship, no questions asked. But I can’t!” He looked back up at Janus, the look in his eyes something that will pierce Janus’ soul for a long time. “I’ve spent the past 8 years taking care of my boyfriends. I can’t have Virgil hurt them, accidentally or on purpose! I will do anything to keep them safe, even if it means keeping Virgil away.”

Janus sighed, pitying the man in front of him. “Would you like some advice, Lo?” At Lo’s nod, he turned to walk away. “Virgil has no intention of ever harming you. He originally lied to you so that he wouldn’t get hurt or used. He’s never had to tell anyone this secret, and he’s never been one to easily trust others. I know you’ve already waited a long time, but please, be patient. He’ll come to you when he’s ready, I swear.” And with that, Janus got in his car and drove away. Once he got to the nearest available parking spot (located at a sickeningly sweet bakery) he pulled out his phone to text Virgil.

J- (2:12 PM) Package delivered

V- (2:12 PM) Thanks, man. Did they see you?

Janus paused. Should he tell Virgil about their encounter? Something told him that Lo wouldn’t mention their interaction to Virgil. If he did, then Janus would come clean. If not…

J- (2:13 PM) No, Virgil. The secret identities of your boy toys are safe.

V- (2:13 PM) Cool. I’ll let them know that it’s there.

And with that, Janus drove back home, where he can watch shitty romcoms and hopefully forget about the tired look in Lo’s eyes.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

P- (5:04 PM) Oh my gosh, I love these Kiddo!

R- (5:04 PM) What did he get you?

P- (5:05 PM) [*Photo Attachment*]

[The photo shows the light blue vase that Patton’s chocolate bouquet was in. The vase was filled with beautiful glass roses. They were mainly clear, with the tips of each petal either red, navy blue, sky blue, or violet.]

V- (5:05 PM) Now you can have flowers that'll never die. Happy Birthday, Pat.

P- (5:06 PM) Thank you SO much, Virgil!

V- (5:06 PM) :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

#sanders sides fic #useless gays #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders

47 notes · View notes

pixiegrl · 3 years

Text

I'll Give You The Best Years

Luke and Ashton get their backyard wedding

Hello hello everyone. I’m back with Part 29 (WHAT) of Lingerie Sos. Originally, this was supposed to be part 3 of what was a three part series. As you can see, the series has evolved since September, but this was always the build up for the series. Luke and Ashton get married. They deserve a happy ending. As always, thanks to Amanda for the constant love and support I really love you and thank you for being my friend even when my brain is being not great. Please enjoy this little slice into Lashton’s life

on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29889180

Luke’s been sitting at the vanity table for the last 30 minutes. They’re supposed to be getting ready to get married. Ashton’s downstairs, trying to wrangle Petunia, Moose, South, Duke and Penny (Sierra and KayKay’s dog) into their own little floral collars. They’ve set up the deck chairs and a pseudo altar outside to make the wedding look official. Ashton’s already wearing his dress shirt and pants. Everything else is ready to go, wedding ready to start. By all means, Luke should be ready. However, they are not.

Luke’s sitting at the vanity table, squeezing their fingers into the edge of the bench and trying to breath. It’s really hitting them that they’re getting married. Luke’s logically known this the whole time, but it suddenly feels all too real that it’s happening. That once Luke walks down the aisle and Calum says the words, Luke and Ashton will be married. They’ll be bound together. It’s everything Luke’s ever wanted, but it doesn’t make them any less nervous to be taking such a big step.

Luke’s barely started their makeup. There’s foundation on and that’s where Luke had frozen and stopped. They already have their jewelry on, small little star earrings to go with the clip Luke’s already put in their curls, heart charm necklace sitting in the hollow of their throat. Luke’s already put the dress on, lingerie peeking out. There’s just one last step to finishing their makeup and then they can put on their heels and finally go downstairs.

Luke’s just...having a moment. It’s suddenly hitting them that they’re getting married. Luke’s never considering marrying anyone else, it’s always been Ashton. Sure, Luke dated other people before and such, but ever since they realized they liked boys too, it’s always been Ashton Luke pictured marrying. Luke’s family has always considered Ashton part of their family and vice versa with the Irwins. When Luke had told their family that Ashton proposed, no one ever said they were too young or that it was too soon. It’s almost as if everyone else just knew that marriage was the next natural step for them. That as soon as Luke and Ashton had announced they were together, everyone just placed bets on when, not if, they would get married. Michael used to call them an old married couple all the time, even before they were together. Luke’s thought more concretely about marrying Ashton practically since they officially became partners, pictured a whole life with Ashton, living out their dreams and growing old together. It’s just finally hitting Luke that it’s happening. They’re going to walk downstairs and officially marry Ashton and that’s it. The rest of their lives begin, which has always been their dream. Luke’s just...having a moment to process all of that.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Lu?” Michael asks, voice hesitant.

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in? You’re supposed to be done here,” Michael says. Luke mumbles some answer that must be close enough to yes for Michael. Luke glances up, sees Michael entering the room. He looks nice, wearing the black lace crop top, red silk bra underneath matching the red plaid miniskirt, black fishnets, and combat boots, smudgy black eyeliner around his eyes. Michael looks soft and punk and Luke’s trying to focus on him, map the way Michael looks while he crosses the room, so Luke doesn’t have to focus on their panic.

“Hey,” Michael says, face worried as he sits on the vanity bench next to Luke. He wraps an arm around Luke, pulling them close to his body. Luke curls into Michael, taking deep breaths.

“Hey,” they whisper back softly. Luke’s happy they haven’t gotten to their makeup yet as they rub their face into Michael’s shoulder.

“What’s the matter?”

“Just nervous.”

“What about?”

“Everything. I’m 24, Ashton’s 26. Are we moving too fast Mikey? Should we wait? Is it too soon?”

“Lu, you and Ashton are perfect for each other. You’re so perfect for each other it’s actually sickening. You guys are soulmates. It’s so clear that you two love each other so completely I’ve never seen two people so wonderfully matched. Ashton would walk to the ends of the Earth for you and you would do the same for him. Do you love him?”

“With my whole heart.”

“And do you want to spend the rest of your life with him?”

“Obviously.”

“Then why wait? Seems silly to waste any time when you’re sure,” Michael says. Luke glances up at Michael.

“You think?”

“I know. You two are perfect together. Might as well make it official,” Michael says. He takes Luke’s face in his hands, kissing their forehead. Luke giggles, tightness in their chest loosening at the reassurance.

“Thanks Michael.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I think it’s time to put your makeup on. You’re supposed to be getting married. Can’t keep the groom waiting,” Michael says, bopping Luke’s nose. They laugh, batting Michael’s hand away. Michael sticks his tongue out.

It’s easy after that for Luke to put the powder on, the champagne eyeshadow, blue eyeliner, pink lipstick, painting their cheeks and collarbone with highlighter. Luke smiles at Michael in the mirror when Michael steals a tube of red lipstick to use, pressing a red lipped kiss to Luke’s shoulder, marking it. Luke laughs, giddy and happy. Michael smiles back, bumping his shoulder against Luke’s. Luke can hear music filtering through the bedroom door, the sounds of Ashton laughing with Sierra and KayKay, dogs barking.

“Are you ready?” Michael asks.

“Yeah.”

“Let me tell everyone so they can get ready and then I’ll come back for you,” Michael says. Luke nods, watching in the mirror as Michael leaves. Luke stands, taking a deep breath and smoothing the skirt of their dress out. Luke grabs their heels, sliding their feet into them and taking one final look in the mirror.

Luke has to admit they look good. The dress is off the shoulder and a sheer, champagne colored fabric, covered in blue and silver stars. There’s a slit in the long flowing tulle skirt, just high enough to see the top of Luke’s stockings, the line of the blue garter belt. The corset style top frames the pale blue satin bra and panty set Luke’s wearing, matching the blue heels. They tried to get all the proper wedding things. The dress is something new, the lingerie and heels something blue, the sparkly star clips in Luke’s curls borrowed from KayKay for that piece and the heart charm necklace and bracelet something old. Luke feels perfect, every inch of them ready to get married.

“Everyone’s ready Luke,” Michael says, popping his head into the door. Luke smiles, turning to Michael.

“Okay. I’m ready,” Luke says, holding their hand out to Michael. He grins taking it, pulling Luke close and linking their elbows. Michael pulls out the bouquet of blue and purple hydrangeas from behind his back, giving them to Luke. They take them, grasping them with both hands.

“Let’s get you a husband,” Michael says, voice soft and tender. Luke smiles, letting Michael lead the way down the stairs.

It’s only once Luke hits the bottom of the stairs, letting Michael guide them both to the open sliding door that leads to the backyard that they think they might cry. The atlar they’ve crafted for the day sits next to the pool, weather warm enough for them to do this outdoors. They’ve dragged some of the chairs that usually sit around the table on their deck for Sierra, KayKay and Michael to use so that they are in front of the altar. It’s simple and full of love. Calum’s standing at the makeshift arch they’ve created from flowers, papers in hand, grinning. Someone’s managed to convince the dogs to sit still by the chairs, even though KayKay’s holding Penny in their arms, grinning. Luke’s trying to take it all in, squeezing Michael’s arm, but as soon as their eyes land on Ashton, it’s all they can focus on.

He’s standing next to Calum in his suit pants and a red shirt, hair perfectly styled back. Ashton’s dimples are creasing his cheeks and his eyes light up when he sees Luke standing in the doorway. He makes an aborted movement to reach a hand out to Luke, hand hovering midair for Luke to join him. Luke knows him well enough to see the slight shake to Ashton’s hand, the way he swallows looking at Luke standing there. Luke’s relieved they’re doing this now, in front of their friends, can get the nerves and anxieties and fear out of the way now so no one starts crying in front of their families later. Luke can already feel the tears at the back of their eyes, the overwhelming certainty that this is everything Luke’s ever wanted.

“Aren’t you supposed to have music to walk down the aisle to?” Michael teases. Luke stifles a laugh into the flowers, mood broken by Michael’s grin, face lit up. Sierra answers the question by pulling her phone out and playing Best Years. It’s strange, hearing their own voice played back to them, lightening the mood as the rest of the guys laugh. It’s as good as any song to walk down the aisle to, just another addition to their makeshift day of love, a special personal touch.

Michael takes the first step forward, Luke following suit as they cross the short distance from the sliding door to the altar. It’s over faster than Luke was expecting, Ashton within reach, fingertips brushing against Luke’s when Luke reaches out to take their hand, ground themselves in the moment. Ashton’s hand is warm to the touch, a little shaky in Luke’s grip, but his smile is pure and full of open adoration.

“Let me give you away,” Michael says, tugging Luke back to him lightly. Michael pulls Luke into his arms, wrapping them into a hug, pressing a soft kiss to their cheek. Luke wraps their free arm around Michael’s shoulders, squeezing lightly.

“Love you Lu,” Michael whispers into Luke’s ear. Luke whispers it back, feels the tears prickling at the corner of their eyes, lump in their throat. Michael pulls back, eyes twinkling with happiness and love. He takes the flowers from Luke, blowing him a kiss as he goes back to sit in one of the chairs.

Ashton waits no time, grabbing onto Luke’s free hand and pulling Luke in front of him to stand. Luke interlaces their fingers, letting Ashton rub his thumb along the back of their hands, smile watery. Luke can already feel the tears threatening to spill over, staring into Ashton’s hazel golden eyes.

“Beloved pets and the people who drove them here. We are gathered here today to watch Luke and Ashton get married. They’ve been in love since they met and Michael and I have had to suffer through years of them mooning over each other before they got it together. If there was ever a case for soulmates, it would be these two. As long as they stop making out on the tour bus, I’m happy to marry them into domestic bliss to live out their old married couple days. Now, I believe Ashton and Luke have a few words to say,” Calum says. Luke’s somewhere between laughing at Calum and anxious at hearing what Ashton has to say, how he could possibly sum up their love.

“Lu, sweetheart, I spent ages trying to wrap my head around what I wanted to say to sum up our love. I can’t possibly do that, but I’m going to try. I’ve known you were it for me the moment you smiled at me the first day of band practice. You used to take my hand backstage before shows and squeeze it, claiming it was for you even though I knew you were doing it because I was nervous. You’ve always been able to read me, known exactly what I needed and how to help me. No matter how good or how bad I’m doing, you’ve always known what to do, what I need. You’ve never backed down from challenging me to be the best version of myself. I want to spend the rest of my life seeing you smile, hearing you laugh. I’ve watched you grow so much over the last year and I’m so happy and blessed to be a part of it, to be a part of your life. You make me feel unbelievably loved and wonderful everyday. You’ve allowed me to grow as a person too, to be the person you need in your life. I want to spend the rest of my life doing the same for you. I’m honored that you’ve chosen to have me in your life in this way. I love you in more ways than I can put into words. I just...I love you and I can’t wait to be your husband,” Ashton says. His eyes are watering and he’s holding his hands out for Luke’s. Luke takes them, swallowing down on their own tears, trying to hold on long enough to say their own vows.

“I’m not sure how I can possibly top what you’ve already said, but I’m going to try. Ash, darling, it’s silly and cliche, but I had a crush on you since the day at the movie theater. I thought I would never see you again, but then you walked into band practice as our new drummer and I knew it was fate pushing us together. It took us a while to get here, but I’ve loved you for so long and I love you so much it comes as easily as breathing to me. You’ve always made me feel cherished and special. No matter how bad I get, the mood I’m in, you’ve always been there for you. You know what to say to make me feel better and even when it’s hard, you never back down from trying. I’ve never felt anything but loved when I’m with you. You’ve helped me to explore myself, to become more comfortable in the person I am. You’re my rock, my support system, my love. I can’t put it all into words how much I love and cherish you, how happy I am to have you in my life, to have you as my person. I promise to love you forever and ever with every part of my being. I want to share every moment with you. I love you,” Luke says, choking out the last words, vision blurred from the tears they know are falling. Ashton’s no better, tears fully running down his cheeks, smiling around it as he wipes his eyes. He leans over, wiping at Luke’s cheeks, pressing a soft kiss to each. Luke grabs his wrists, squeezing lightly before letting go.

“I think this is where you exchange rings,” Calum prompts. Luke glances at him, sees the tears at the corner of Calum’s eyes. Luke laughs, a little wet, vision blurred at the corners from the tears. Ashton laughs, wiping his eyes. He digs into his pocket, pulling out the ring box. He pops it open, displaying the two golden bands inside. Luke holds their hand out, letting Ashton slide the ring onto their left hand. Luke does the same, taking out the matching ring and sliding it onto Ashton’s rings. Ashton slides the box back into his pocket, hands shaking as he takes Luke’s hands in his.

“By other power vested in me and this minister license I got online from the state of California, I now pronounce you married. I know you’re going to kiss whether or not I give you permission, so you may now kiss,” Calum says, waving his hand, eyes crinkled with a smile. Ashton wastes no time, pulling Luke to him, one hand cupping their jaw, the other wrapped around their waist. Ashton presses a sloppy kiss to Luke’s lips, grinning too hard for it to land and noses bumping. Luke laughs, digging their fingers into Ashton’s hair and smiling into the kiss, letting Ashton dip them backwards slightly. Michael wolf whistles, Sierra and KayKay laughing over dogs barking. Luke pulls back, gazing into Ashton’s eyes.

“I love you,” Luke whispers.

“Forever and ever,” Ashton whispers back, swooping in for another kiss.

“Break it up you crazy kids. I want food,” Michael laughs. Luke grins, lets Ashton right them again on the ground, fingers interlaced. It feels freeing, standing here with Ashton, knowing that he’s Luke’s husband, that it’s real and official and true.

Ashton doesn’t let Luke get caught in their head for long, pulling them back into the kitchen. Ashton ordered dinner for tonight, some simple dish of chicken and pasta, so Calum would have something to eat and it would be less work for Ashton to do, since all he had to do was heat it up. Ashton goes about the kitchen, taking the sauce off the stove and taking the chicken out of the oven. Luke helps, grabbing the pasta to start mixing it with the sauce. It’s an easy dance after that, dishing out the food onto the plates and pouring out water for everyone to drink.

“It’s a free for all. You get to grab your own dishes,” Ashton says, waving his arms once everything has been plated.

“I’m writing a bad review. Terrible services,” Michael says, laughing with Ashton flips him the bird. They all grab their plates, carrying everything outside to the table they’ve set up, dragging the chairs back around the table. They all sit down, conversation flowing easily around their meal, Ashton ribbing Michael and Calum about being the next couple to get engaged now.

“Wait! We brought dessert,” KayKay says once they finish eating, taking Sierra’s hand and tugging her inside to the kitchen. Michael follows after them, clearly going to help them grab the dishes, shooing Ashton when he tries to follow them to help. There’s the vague sound of cabinets banging, Ashton wincing at the idea that they’re messing up his kitchen, Calum giggling.

“Our gift to you,” Sierra says, coming back out. She’s holding a beautiful cake in her hands, two layers covered in white icing and delicate blue flowers. She places it on the table, smiling. Luke blinks back tears, overwhelmed by love, reaching out to pull Sierra and KayKay into a hug, kissing them both on the cheek. Michael produces the knife, handing it over to Ashton. They go through the tradition, cutting the cake and feeding each other a bite of it around their smiles. Luke thinks their cakes might never stop hurting from how much they’re smiling today, brimming over with love and happiness.

At some point, Michael manages to find a speaker for them to hook a phone up to for music. Sierra demands Ashton and Luke get to have a first dance, like she isn’t gazing at KayKay for the same reason. It doesn’t take much to convince Ashton anyway, grabbing Michael’s phone and pulling up a song. He grabs Luke’s hand, pulling them into his arms, hand around their waist and holding onto their hand as the opening notes of Can’t Help Falling In Love play through the speaker.

“I can’t believe you trust me not to step on your feet,” Ashton whispers, face pressed against Luke’s cheek. Luke smiles, lets Ashton spin them lightly.

“I’m the one in heels. If anything you should be worried about me,” Luke says, stumbling a little when Ashton takes a step forward, forcing Luke to step back in surprise to keep up.

“We should take dance lessons before the big wedding,” Ashton chuckles, dodging Luke’s misstep, feet bumping against each other. Luke giggles as they spin their way through a dance, small steps contained to avoid injury. The song fades out, Ashton pulling Luke into a kiss, fingers tangled into Luke’s curls. The next song comes on, something more upbeat and Michael cuts in, pulling Luke into their own dance, Calum dragging Ashton away. It’s easy and fun, letting their small group of friends pull them into silly, easy dancing, dogs running around at their heels, begging to be included. Luke picks Petunia up, dancing around with her, pressing a kiss to her head when she snuffles in confusion, accepting the affection.

Eventually, it starts to get darker outside, sun setting and painting the world in reds and purples and oranges, swirls of colors against a darkening sky. It makes the world feel special, magical, on fire. They start to gather everything up, taking the plates and leftover food into the kitchen. Luke takes the opportunity to kick their heels off, leave them on the stairs to take some of the pressure off their feet from standing all day.

Ashton shows Sierra and KayKay to the door, thanking them for coming, pressing kisses to their cheeks and petting Penny goodbye. Calum’s trying to wrangle South and Moose out the door, while Michael holds Duke in one arm. He’s got Petunia’s leash in the other, trying to hold her bag over his shoulder. Since Luke and Ashton are going on a mini honeymoon tomorrow night, they wanted Petunia to stay with the guys while they were out. She doesn’t seem to mind, sniffing at Michael’s legs and wagging her tail.

Michael leans over, pressing a kiss to Luke’s cheek.

“Congrats Lu. Always knew if it was any of us, it would be you two. Soulmates and all,” he says. The smile creases the corner of his eyes, making him look soft and young. Luke smiles back, pressing kisses to Michael’s cheeks in response, trying to hold back their tears. They help Michael to the door, Calum grabbing the bag and helping to the car.

Ashton closes the door behind them, turning to face Luke and grinning, interlacing their fingers.

“We deserve leftover cake,” he says, tugging on Luke to take him to the kitchen. Ashton makes his way over to the cake, leaving Luke in the entryway.

Ashton pops the top off the cake container, opening up the drawer to grab two forks from it. He holds one out to Luke, grinning. Luke crosses the kitchen threshold, hand on the counter to push themselves up to sit on the edge and take pressure off their feet. Ashton reads Luke’s body language, grabbing hold of Luke’s waist and lifting them up easily, setting them on the edge. Luke smiles, soft and sleepy, shifting back lightly and grabbing the fork from Ashton. It feels illicit, taking forkfuls from the cake itself, letting Ashton feed some of it to them and vice versa.

Luke sits on the countertop, swinging their stockinged feet back and forth, stabbing the cake with a fork and taking a bite. Ashton’s slumped against the counter, elbow touching Luke’s thigh, as he takes another bite of the cake. His shirt is unbuttoned halfway down his chest, curls falling in his face. He catches Luke staring, tilting his head up, reaching out for Luke. They meet him halfway, ducking their head to press a kiss to Ashton’s lips. Ashton smiles into it, capturing Luke’s left hand in his and running his finger over Luke’s wedding band.

“I love you,” Luke whispers into the space between them when they separate. Luke grabs onto Ashton’s left hand, tracing patterns into his palm, running their fingertips along Ashton’s matching band. Ashton lifts Luke’s hand to his lips, kissing the back of their hand. Luke giggles. Ashton drops the fork on the cake tray. Luke follows suit, grabbing onto Ashton’s hands.

“I love you darling,” Ashton whispers back. Luke tugs Ashton between their legs, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, letting Ashton run his hands up their thighs, squeezing lightly. Luke drapes their arms around Ashton’s shoulders squeezing. They still have to clean up, put the cake away, get ready for their honeymoon trip tomorrow. But right here, wrapped up in Ashton’s arms, trading kisses in the kitchen, Luke doesn’t want to go anywhere else. It’s sweet and it’s perfect, kissing Ashton, whispering words of love and affection, declarations to have and to hold on their lips. Luke’s never been happier, more sure of themselves. This is where they’re meant to be forever, wrapped up in Ashton’s love forevermore.

#5 seconds of summer #lashton #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #lingerie sos #lingerie luke series #its a wedding!#theyre getting married!#its sappy and soft and sweet and maybe!#i love these two!#my writing

8 notes · View notes

suchdan-veryphil · 4 years

Text

Goodnight, Solos - A Dad!Ben Solo Imagine

Request: Can we get an imagine where Ben has trouble with his and the reader’s toddler and the bedtime routine? Maybe it’s the first time he does it bc the reader is pregnant with their second child and is on bedrest? Their toddler gives him a hard time and just doesn’t wanna go to bed?

Fluff!!!

Word Count: 1,928

Trigger Warning: Swearing maybe?

A/N: I am absolute Adam Driver Trash. Ben Solo deserved better.

---------

“Ben, are you sure that you’ve got her?” As you sat up against the backboard of the bed, your 7-month-pregnant belly protruded from the covers. The doctor had put you on bed rest, insisting that since your toddler had been born 7 weeks early, that you were at high risk for early labor with your ever-growing baby.

Your husband put his dirty clothes in the hamper before he nodded his head and looked at you. “Not to be an ass, but I literally single-handedly took down a handful of Palpatine’s assholes. I think I can give our two-year-old a bath and read her a story before bed.”

A deep breath ran through your body as you tried not to take offense to what he was saying. “Yea, well if you end up needing help, call me over.”

“I will not.”

“Need help or call me over?”

“Both.” Ben turned around and kissed you on your forehead before he turned on his heels and walked out the door and down the hall towards your toddler’s room.

“Reina, it’s time to take your bath. It’s almost bedtime.”

Looking back at the 6′3″ man was a pair of (y/e/c) that reflected yours, and a head full of messy, curly, midnight hair that was definitely her father’s. “Daddy, not yet.”

“Yes, yet. C’mon, wookie.” Ben had a way of making things sound stern, but not rude or mean. His voice was deep and sultry, but his tone was gentle and empathetic.

“Can I do the bubbles?” her voice was the stereotypical voice of a toddler who knew how to make her father give her what she wants, accompanied by the slightest tilt of the head. She smiled at him, making her chubby cheeks turn light pink.

In that moment, Ben knew that everything he had faced leading up to this point in his life was so that he could be the best father possible for this child and the one on the way.

“Yes, you can do the bubbles. Let’s go.” Ben held his arms out, and they were soon holding your two-year-old tightly, carrying her into the bathroom. He ran the water and plugged the tub. “Reina, come do the bubbles!”

Reina ran to the cabinet by the sink and pulled out the container of the bubble bath and used all of her 29-month-old strength to pop the top off and run towards the bathtub. With no thought, she turned the container on a 180-degree angle, dumping a good majority of the bottle into the tub. Ben quickly grabbed it, struggling to grip it well enough to turn it back over before he plopped it into the sink.

“Bubbles, Daddy!” Reina giggled and put her hands in the running water as the bubbles began to form in the water.

“Yes, lots of bubbles, wookie. Now you gotta take off your clothes?” Ben was grateful that you weren’t able to hear him questioning your two-year-old daughter on how to take a bath.

“Yes and then I jump in the bubbles!” Reina squealed as she undressed and then ran out of the bathroom.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“On a mission!”

“Reina, you’re not wearing clothes, come here!” Ben stood and used the length of his legs to stride quickly towards the naked child that was running through the house.

“Catch me, Daddy!”

Reina ran past Ben and into her bedroom. “Daddy, my wanna put my Rey doll to the bath!” Ben stood there for a moment, confused as to what she was trying to say. “Rey doll in my bath!”

Ben shook his head as he realized what she was saying. “Yea, sure. Let’s just get in the tub, Reina.” He leaned over and scooped her up before he walked her back into the bathroom and put her in the tub before he turned the water off.

Reina looked up at her father and smiled as she grabbed fists full of bubbles, and squeezing as they floated into the air, made their way back down and landed on various surfaces. “Daddy, can you use the force to blow the bubbles around?”

As the Solo boy took a washcloth and made it soapy, he smirked a little and shook his head. “I cannot. But watch this,” and with that, he took a deep breath in and blew into a large hill of bubbles, causing them to fly everywhere and causing the toddler to go into a fit of giggles and laughter. Ben couldn’t help but also chuckle as he continued to bathe the child that taught him a kind of love that he never thought he would know.

The rest of bathtime was pretty smooth if a mess of bubbles on the floor, counter, sink, and Ben was still considered smooth. Ben sat with Reina on her bedroom floor, wrapped in a towel that was made to look like a uniform from the Rebellion. Y/N bought it as a joke, and Ben didn’t find it very funny at first. Only when Reina decided she loved it did he come around.

As soon as he ran the brush through her hair, she whined. “Ow! Daddy that hurted!”

“It hurt?”

“Yea, I want momma to brush it. Can you go get her?”

Ben frowned and gave her a small squeeze. “Momma can’t leave the bed, remember? She has to stay in bed so that she can keep your baby sibling safe and sound.”

“Then we don’t have to brush my hair.” Reina pouted and gave him a teary-eyed expression that pulled at his heartstrings in a way that only her mother had been able to do before.

“Yes, we do, wookie. I’ll try to be more gentle. I promise.” And he was. He had combed through her hair in small sections and in small strokes. This caused the chore to take about four times as long as it should have, but the job was done and there were no more tears, which is what he cared about.

“All done, kid. Where are your pajamas?”

“Top.”

Ben collected any random pair of bottoms and a top before he turned around to find his daughter opening the drawers on her crafting desk with her towel still wrapped around her.

“What’re you doin’? It’s bedtime. Come get dressed.”

“Not yet! I wanna color you a pitcher!”

Ben took a deep breath, not because he was frustrated but because he didn’t know how to get through to the toddler. He finally understood when y/n said: “she’s just like you, stuck in her ways.”

“Tomorrow morning, the first thing we can do is make a picture but now you need put your clothes on so we can lay down and go to bed.”

“Daddy, a story first. Momma always reads me a story.”

“Yes, we’ll read a story but not until you’re dressed.”

Ben had come a long way. If you had come from another galaxy and had heard of the late Kylo Ren, and then met your Ben, you never would have put two and two together. Ben was kind, and he was learning patience. It wasn’t easy for him. There were many days when you two had started dating where you could see his temper come out, but he truly was working on it.

Then the day you told him you were pregnant with your lovely Reina, he really began to hold himself accountable for his actions. He wanted to be the dad he never imagined himself being and giving your daughter a life full of love, trust, and lack of fear and anger.

He held the pajamas up in his hands as he waited for Reina to close her drawers and make her way over to where he stood.

“I can do it.” Her arms reached up and stretched as if she would ever be able to reach any object held over her father’s head. Ben chuckled at the sight, and just to tease her a little, he reached them up higher.

“Are you sure?” Another chuckle escaped his lips as she started to jump up in an attempt to get taller.

“I’m gonna tell momma! My want my pajamas!” The small girl had a stern voice that she had undeniably learned from her father. Ben knelt down and helped her step into her underwear, pants, and lastly her shirt.

“Don’t tell the big boss on me, you know that look she’ll give me. Ben then made a serious face, imitating the one you give when you have to discipline Reina.

With a giggle, Reina lifted her tiny finger to her lips in a shushing motion. “Okay, daddy. Let’s play a game!”

“No no no, let’s read a book and go to bed!” Ben said trying to match the toddler’s enthusiasm as he lifted her up and brought her over to the shelves of books by the window.

The shelves were packed with all kinds of books. Comics, coloring books, books on animals, books on the universe, but Reina’s favorite was “Goodnight Moon”, so it was no surprise when her hand went straight to it. She slid it off of the shelf and held it tightly in her hands.

“This one, Daddy.”

“You got it Wookie.” Ben kissed the side of her head and smiled as he lowered her into her bed shaped like an X-wing.

“Daddy, lay with me?”

“I don’t think I’ll fit in the bed with you, kid.”

“Make you fit! Come here!” Reina moved over all the way to the wall and patted the bed beside her.

Ben watched and tried to analyze whether or not he would fit on the bed. With a light, sigh, he decided that it didn’t matter. As he flicked the lights off, Reina’s star projector night light lit up and covered the ceiling with stars. As he laid down, he pulled the blankets over the two of them and took the book gently from her hands.

“Ok, get comfy.” Ben cleared his throat and opened the book. Reina cuddled into her father with her head on his chest and her arm over his abdomen. Ben smiled lightly to himself as he began to read.

“In the great green room, there was a telephone...” Ben rested his head on Reina’s and continued to read in a slow, soothing voice.

It was only when Ben was half-way through the book that their baby girl had fallen asleep, but he continued to read aloud as if she were still listening.

You had already been waiting for almost two and a half hours waiting for Ben to come back to bed. You knew Reina could be tough to get to sleep, but she had never taken this long before. Getting out of bed, you slid into your slippers and waddled your way down the hall to Reina’s room.

You were met with a dark room covered in stars and the sight of your Ben and Reina Solo cuddled up together, Ben’s stomach holding “Goodnight Moon”.

His cheek was rested on her head and her arms were wrapped around his body. You could feel your heart swell with love as you took the sight in. Ben Solo had come a long way since his battle with Palpatine, and even if he still felt a struggle, you knew that he had changed forever, for the absolute best.

You took one last glance and smiled as you slowly backed out of the bedroom and closed the door, leaving it open a crack. Before walking away, you glanced in and bit your lip. “Goodnight, Solos.”

#ben solo #ben solo x reader #kylo ren imagines #star wars fic #star wars imagine #star wars #ben solo deserved better #ben solo imagine #adam driver imagine #adam driver fic #adam driver

244 notes · View notes

eventidespirits · 3 years

Text

Adam Allistair Freemont

Aliases: Edwin Lockhart, William Silva, Francis LaRue, Everett Brighton, James Fenwick

Apparent Age: "29"

Birthday: August 11th, 1897

Death Day: December 19th, 1926

Species: Vampire (Siren Bloodline)/Bloodbound Spirit

Gender: Cis Man

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality: Primarily Heterosexual

Occupation: Photographer

Residence: Santa Marta, California; Morgan Kendrick's Psychic Realm

Universe: Primarily original lore but also Vampire the Masquerade where he's a Camarilla Toreador who defected to the Sabbat.

Appearance:

Height: 6'0

Build: Tall and lanky with angular shoulders and long limbs. He has a trim, lightly muscled physique with long delicate fingers and soft hands.

Eye Color: Luminous Yellow/Gold with slitted cat-like pupils and a darker, amber band around the edges.

Hair Color/Texture: Black, 1b hair texture. Just long enough for the ends to brush against his shoulders. Partially brushed back and parted to the right but a significant amount of his hair ends up falling into his face.

Face: Angular with a square jaw and high cheekbones. He has a mostly straight nose with a slight convex curve to the bridge. He has deep set eyes with heavy lids and dark circles and usually looks somewhat sleepy but in a strangely sensual way. Defined lips that are usually curved into a sadistic little smirk. He's quite attractive but in a way that feels vaguely dangerous or even predatory.

Distinguishing Characteristics: Adam has bright golden eyes with slitted cat-like pupils. He also has a rather large, jagged scar on his back, located between his shoulder blades. I'd include his *other* distinguishing characteristic but that's kinda NSFW ;)

Posture/Body Language: Confident, even arrogant, chin up, shoulders back but not in a way that looks particularly stiff. His body language is generally relaxed and easy, bringing to mind a big cat at rest -- there's always something about the way he moves that implies a predatory nature laying beneath his cool, collected surface. Adam walks with clear purpose and long, smooth strides and always knows how to make an entrance.

Voice: Soft and smooth with a deep timbre and confident inflection. Adam's voice is somewhat like poisoned honey or arsenic laced velvet -- smooth and sweet but with something slightly off.

Clothing Style: Adam prefers dark colors -- burgundy, blood red, black, charcoal, rich deep browns and the ocassional pop of gold or cream or a white dress shirt. He wears primarily expensive, tailored button downs made from things like silk, velvet or very high thread count cotton with the sleeves rolled up and the top three (or four) buttons undone. Sometimes with brocade, floral or striped patterns. If it's cooler out, he'll wear a black blazer or something similar. When it comes to pants, it's almost entirely black or charcoal tailored pants or pitch black jeans. He usually wears very few accessories -- a nice watch, a belt, a silver and garnet ring and a pendant on a thin silver or gold chain. Generally wearing pointed toe oxfords or other dress shoes. When it comes to outerwear, Adam generally prefers things like wool coats and the ocassional leather jacket (always real leather, too) (to get a better idea, check out his [Pinterest Board]

Skills

Social: Manipulation, Lying, Gaslighting, Flirting, Proper Etiquette, Public Speaking, Blame Shifting, Negging, Seduction

Physical: knife combat, some hand to hand combat, basic combat training (circa 1914), long range firearms/sniping, Ballroom Dancing, Fencing, Horseback riding, the carnal arts

Talents: Photography, Drawing, Poetry, Lying, Being an Asshole, Manipulation, Painting, Seduction, Sex

Knowledges: Fluent in French & Italian, Masters in Psychology (circa 1926), Photo Development (wet plate, autochrome, modern methods), some basic knowledge of financial law and property law

Hobbies: Photography, writing, breaking pretty girls, avoiding his deep-seated psychological issues, general hedonism

Special: Emotional Influence, Telepathy, Emotional Transference, Enhanced Stamina, Enhanced Strength, "Immortality", Enhanced Senses (esp sight), minor regeneration, sweet blood, emotional radar/supernatural empathy, hypnosis/mind control

Psyche

Strengths: Charismatic, quick-thinking, clever, good at understanding the thought processes of others, empathetic, deeply romantic, treats service workers well, dedicated, generally calm, high emotional intelligence, has critical thinking skills, polite*, can be incredibly sweet, adaptable, pays a lot of attention to his partners in bed, passionate, artistic, creative, protective

Weaknesses: selfish, self-absorbed, arrogant, manipulative, almost completley lacks compassion, disdain for basically everyone around him, dishonest, has a horrible temper, needs constant attention and praise, has a massive inferiority/superiority complex, overconfident, easily susceptible to flattery, deep-seated intimacy issues, can't stand being wrong, terrified of vulnerability, paranoid, detached from his own emotions/denies his own humanity, callous, sadistic, can be incredibly rude, actually a bit of a coward, condescending, possessive, jealous and generally kind of a dick.

Fears: genuine intimacy, abandonment/loneliness,true death, being buried alive

Goals: To finally create the perfect art piece (i.e., break someone in just the right way -- he's not even sure what this MEANS, he's just sure he'll "know" when he finally does it), to just enjoy his immortality.

Personality: On the surface, Adam seems likable enough -- at least, at first. He's incredibly charming and thoughtful, often anticipating people's wants before they're even able to articulate them, witty, intelligent and seemingly very polite...

But beneath that surface lurks a spoiled rich kid who learned early on in life that having money, being good looking and charming meant he could get away with almost anything. Adam is self-absorbed and arrogant and almost everything he does is a carefully crafted performance intended to get people on his side and manipulate them into doing what he wants.

Beneath even that, which he desperately tries to ignore, is a little boy who was spoiled by his mother and entirely ignored by his (largely absent) father -- a young man who was traumatized by being forced to fight in WWI and who is full of deep-seated fears and insecurities.

To make up for this, Adam is often sadistic towards the people around him -- but in that way where it's difficult to tell that he's actually being cruel until one looks back at the conversation.

He has difficulty genuinely connecting to others because of those insecurities and instead uses his powers as a Siren to make the people around him love and adore him-- no matter how badly he treats them.

Life

Best Memory: Being gifted his first camera, meeting his Maker.

Worst Memory: Somewhere between when he almost died during WWI and his actual death...

Biggest Achievement: Getting his Masters

Prized Possession: Silver and Garnet ring gifted to him by his Maker, his first camera, his black 2020 Ferrari Portofino (with the red leather interior), (he also has an engraved custom sniper rifle but a friend picked the model and shit for me and I cannot remember what it is for the life of me)

Favorite Color: Red, Gold

Favorite Food:

-Mortal Food: Partial to anything rich and flavorful, prefers food that's not pointlessly ostentatious (nothing coated in gold leaf, that's absurd), dry red wines, Italian Cream Cake, Eggs Benedict, Crepes Suzette

-Blood: Blood taken in the heat of the throes of passion from someone that's truly and deeply in love with and obsessed with him...

Favorite Scents: Blood, Gasoline, Cloves, Cinnamon, Resin, YSL Nuit, roses, vanilla, rain, the sharp smell of a cloudless winter night

Favorite Songs: Winter, 1st Movement - Vivaldi, Raindrops - Chopin, La Vie En Rose - Edith Piaf

Can't Leave Home Without: At least one knife somewhere on his person.

Birthplace: San Francisco, California

Childhood: Adam is the only child out of six in his family to survive to adulthood with four older siblings who had either in infancy, had been stillborn or died of tuberculosis when Adam was still too young to remember them. He had one younger sibling, a sister named Mary who was killed in an accident at the age of 6 when Adam was 8 years old. His parents were already a little bit older by the time he was born and his father was the owner of an incredibly lucrative railroad line and had profited greatly from the Gold Rush as well as owning multiple properties in San Francisco and neighboring Santa Marta...

Due to the loss of her other children, Adam's mother doted on him -- giving into his every whim, supplying him with the best education she could and basically just spoiling the ever loving fuck out of him. His father, on the other hand, was always busy with work and when he was home, had nothing but criticism for Adam who desperately tried to gain his approval to no avail.

Adolescence: Adam developed a passion for photography as a teenager and discovered that being good-looking, clever and rich meant he could get away with A LOT more than most people and also meant that he rarely heard "no" and accepted it as an answer even less often (though he rarely resorted to force to get his way, relying instead on bribery, flattery, blackmail and implied threats). All of this gave him quite an interest in psychology and he intended to become a clinical psychologist. During his adolescence, Adam would have a great many girlfriends and despite being a selfish and manipulative little shit, was actually not the world's worst boyfriend and no hint of the violent temper and genuine sadism he'd develop after being Changed.

Adulthood: Adam's education would be interrupted by the outbreak of WWI,which if asked he will describe as "incredibly distasteful and personally inconvenient." He was a skilled marksman and sniper but was otherwise unremarkable -- much to his father's disdain. After nearly dying in one of the trenches of France after taking a grievous bayonet wound in the last few months of the war, Adam would be sent back from the frontlines and would shortly begin work on continuing his education...

However -- despite the fact that he would complete all seven years necessary to get his degree, Adam's interest in becoming an actual psychologist wouldn't ever come to fruition. In 1925, he would meet Amelia Madeleine Smith -- an unbelievably beautiful and charming socialite from Santa Marta who would see Adam's potential as a source of money and influence for the Nightingale Court of Northern California. She would spend the next year carefully grooming him to become her protege -- manipulating him much in the same way he would later manipulate the women he dates as a vampire -- using emotional transference, mind control and mundane manipulation to cause him to fall madly in love with her... In December of 1925, Amelia would finally perform the ritual of transformation on him and bring Adam over into the world of the Supernatural.

Unfortunately for Adam, his Change would take nearly two weeks to complete -- two weeks spent in absolute agony beyond anything he'd experienced before. Amelia, believing the most important first step for a newly born vampire is to break their bonds to humanity would kidnap his mother during this change and leave her for him to kill upon waking. Adam would remain with Amelia (who used her bond as Adam's maker to control most of his actions and her abilities as a Siren to continue to influence his emotions) until 1980 when she was killed by a member of the Bram Park Wolf Pack in Santa Marta, leaving Adam behind. During this period, Adam would end up being "taken in" by a bonded pair of Stryza -- Camille Belikova and Lucy DeSantos and would act as their primary draw for new playthings.

Recent: Adam met Morgan Kendrick at the Velvet Box goth club in Santa Marta when Morgan was twenty two years old and would sweep her off her feet, intending to make her into his "masterpiece"... Three years into this relationship, Adam would finally Change Morgan, which would break the initial control he had over her and result in her, in a fit of rage, completely draining him and through a magical fluke, causing his spirit to become bonded/fused with her blood...

Recently, Adam's presence has disappeared from Morgan's psyche due to the machinations of Miss Belikova and her wife -- though it appears that the two of them are still inextricably linked in a way beyond the usual bond between Maker and Fledgling.

Relationships

Family: Lawrence Freemont (Father; Deceased), Anne Freemont (Mother; Deceased), Mary Freemont (Sister; Deceased)

Lovers: Amelia Smith (Maker; Deceased), Morgan Kendrick (Fledgling, Ex, Soulbond), Many other unnamed girls.

Friends: Camille Belikova, Lucille DeSantos, Jonathan Andreason

Enemies: Morgan Kendrick, the Bram Park Wolfpack

Acquaintances: Miranda Cortez (Queen of the Nightingale Court of Santa Marta)

Income: Moderately Wealthy

Vehicles: 2020 Ferrari Portofino

Residences: Penthouse Apartment in Vista Rosa, a small Victorian row house in Val Del Mar and a 1br/1ba apartment in Park Verde (all located in Santa Marta)

#about: Adam #Adam Freemont #character profile

0 notes